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“Um, Cavea?” said Hemi, and pointed up.

A bird was perched on the rim of the toilet tank, watching them. It was a parrot, and it was huge. It cawed once, gratingly.

It was absolutely beautiful, a vivid patchwork of reds, blues, and yellows. As it shuffled on its feet and eyed the travelers, several of its smaller companions swept around it in a quick aerobatic dance.

“So where’s the…” Deeba started to ask. As she spoke, several of the birds raised crests on their necks and heads. Vivid colors swung upwards into temporary tiaras, in the center of each of which was a large, bright feather shaped like a key.

The one adorning the big parrot was huge.

“Never mind,” Deeba whispered.

64

Alpha Male

Claviger’s head-feather smoothed down again, and was invisible in his plumage. Deeba stepped forward.

“Don’t bother,” the book said. “He doesn’t speak any Human.”

“Cavea, could you translate?” Deeba said. The caged bird nodded. “Parakeetus Claviger, I presume,” Deeba said, and waited for Cavea to whistle. “Pleased to meet you. Sorry to crash round yours like this. I’m sure you know about the Smog, Mr. Claviger. I want to ask if you’ll help us fight it.”

The parrot cawed, and Mr. Cavea whistled.

“He says no,” the book said.

“Who does?” said Deeba.

“Parakeetus Claviger.”

“But…why did you wait for Cavea to say it? Do you understand Bird or not?”

“Yes. But Claviger has a strong parrot accent I can’t make out.”

Deeba rolled her eyes.

“And…he says no? Claviger?”

The parrot called again, and Cavea twittered.

“Yes, he says no. He says he knows what you’re going to ask for, and we can’t have it. He says we should be ashamed of ourselves, wanting to take his crest. The males all use them to show off, and when they’re being aggressive. He says without it he won’t be a hit with the ladies. He says, uh…that the chicks dig his threads. Don’t look at me like that, Deeba, that’s what he says.”

Deeba had been feeling guilty about having to take Parakeetus Claviger’s feather. Now she felt considerably less so.

“He says that? Aggressive? Well…” She paused. She saw climbing motions in the foliage on the water tank, and looked quickly away. “We don’t want Mr. Claviger’s headgear. Is he stupid? What sort of idiots does he think we are?”

Cavea twittered.

“What?” said Hemi.

“What are you doing?” said the book.

“Why you getting angry?” said Hemi.

“Shut up,” whispered Deeba. Then, more loudly, she said, “Maybe we aren’t the idiots.”

Cavea hesitated and translated.

All the birds were squawking angrily. Claviger jumped up and down in outrage, and screeched.

Deeba didn’t wait for Cavea to translate. “Easy to say things like that from up there,” she said. “Who wants your minging feathers anyway?”

“Oh, I get it,” murmured Hemi.

Claviger must have understood from the tone of her voice. He screeched, and leapt down from the top of the tank to swing from the toilet chain, close to Deeba’s face—and below the cistern.

“Up yours,” Deeba said, and jerked her hand in a rude motion. Outraged, Parakeetus Claviger ruffled his feathers into a fight-posture. The featherkey stood up on his head.

“Alright,” Deeba said loudly. “I admit it. I’m sorry I had to diss you, but actually I do want your bling.”

The utterlings hidden in the leaves heard themselves spoken, and they burst out. They dropped on vines and flung themselves at Claviger’s head.

The birds of Claviger’s court filled the air, screaming in rage, raising their own featherkeys. Before Parakeetus Claviger could fly, Diss, the six-legged bear, grabbed him and clung on. With the sudden extra weight, the two bodies pulled the chain.

Even as they descended, Diss was pulling out the featherkey still raised on the bird’s head. Parakeetus Claviger’s cry turned into one of pain as the utterling yanked his plume.

Claviger was beating his big wings as the chain jerked at its full length, and the toilet started to flush. Diss lost its grip.

Hemi, Deeba, and Cauldron couldn’t reach the tumbling bear through the barrage of enraged