Free Sword Quest by Nancy Yi Fan

wish.’”
    Winger paused as memory flooded his brain. He spoke rapidly. “I had just mastered Avish when thearchaeopteryxes attacked my tribe. They wanted to know about Avish. My father refused to tell them and fought to the death. They killed my mother and my sister. I wanted to die with them, but an archaeopteryx enslaved me for my harp music and forced me to live on.” Winger swallowed and recovered. “I am glad that knowing Avish can help us now.”
    The companions sat and stared at the marks Wind-voice and Winger had drawn in the dirt. Could they truly be clues to the location of the sword?
    “It’s not much help, even if it is a clue,” Stormac said at last. “Are you sure that’s it, Wind-voice? I mean, you only got a glimpse of the thing.”
    “I—I think so,” Wind-voice said doubtfully. But another memory was tugging at his mind. “There was a messenger. He said—he told the emperor that a knight, Sir Rattle-bones, would be bringing another gem from across the sea. A red one. He was carrying it then. He was supposed to be crossing the desert with it.”
    “The desert?” Fleydur said sharply, looking up. “The only way from the desert into the archaeopteryx territory is across the river that we just crossed.”
    The four of them looked at one another.
    “I could go search for Rattle-bones,” Wind-voice said. “If I could find him—if I could get that gem, maybe itwould tell us something more about the hero’s sword. Winger, can you teach me Avish? I’ve never had a chance to learn since I became a slave. I know learning things like this will help me in the future.”
    “Sure!” Winger said eagerly. “I’ll come along and teach you as we go. Maybe you’ll learn enough to read any clues that come our way.”
    “If there even is another clue,” Stormac said skeptically. He shrugged. “The written old language makes my head ache. It’s the type of thing that overlords care about, not common folk. Wielding a staff—that’s the life for me.”
    “But if you learned Avish, no one could deceive you,” Winger objected. He turned to the eagle.
    “I’ll come,” Fleydur said. “You’ll need me. I know the desert lands. I can help you search.”
    All three looked at Stormac. He scowled at them.
    “I’m not even sure I believe all this,” he grumbled. “Languages and clues! Legends and stories! We’d be better off doing something more practical. But…I’ll come. We’ve got to fight against these archaeopteryxes somehow. I suppose a wild quest is no more than I deserve.”
    “Deserve?” Winger asked. Too late he noticed Wind-voice shaking his head at him. The woodpecker had notseen the look of bitter shame on Stormac’s face.
    “What do you mean?” Wind-voice asked softly. “We’re all victims of the archaeopteryxes, one way or another. Why should you deserve to suffer any more than we do?”
    Stormac was silent. “You don’t have to answer,” Wind-voice said. “If you don’t want to tell us…”
    “No.” Stormac sighed. “I’ll tell you. I’m just afraid…” He picked up his staff in his claws and began to stroke the smooth wood. “Do you know of the Three Clans? The crows, the mynas, and the ravens? We stood out against the archaeopteryxes until our territory was overrun. We had two choices: flee into the wilderness or surrender. Some of us made a bargain. In exchange for our lives and a scant measure of freedom, we’d serve in the archaeopteryx army. I…I left what remained of my own clan, after we’d starved for nearly a week, just for the promise of regular meals. I sold my allegiance for seed and worms, for strawberries and nuts. My job was simply following the archaeopteryxes and carrying their supplies. No harm, I thought. How wrong I was.”
    Stormac’s voice broke, and he took a deep breath. “Can I ever forgive myself, my foolish self?” he asked in a choked voice. “I followed the archaeopteryxes on my firstmission. They overran a small village