Thunderbird Sanctuary
Lucien followed Newt and Stanley, Apparating to the base of a towering mountain.
BOOM!
A dull roll of thunder crashed from the sky, and heavy, dark clouds loomed closer to the mountain's peak.
Newt tilted his head upward, sniffing the air delicately, parsing the scents around him. "The thunder and lightning are coming every five seconds now, and there's more moisture in the air. The timing's about right—mating season for the thunderbirds should be over."
Stanley nodded beside him. "Yup, this window between mating and egg-laying is when thunderbirds are easiest to approach."
Lucien listened quietly from behind, soaking it all in. This was a rare chance to learn. As the saying goes, read a thousand books, travel a thousand miles. Meeting new people—and creatures—on a journey like this was its own kind of education.
SCREECH!
A sharp, piercing cry cut through the thunder, echoing down from the mountain's peak.
Newt and Stanley reacted instantly, wands at the ready. That was a thunderbird's call—a sign one was swooping in fast.
Lucien pulled out his wand too, but he wasn't nervous. If anything, he was curious, even excited. Thanks to the unicorn's blessing, he understood the meaning behind that cry: "Old friend, you're here!"
A second, softer call followed, closer now.
Newt's face lit up with recognition, and he lowered his wand.
A massive shadow swept overhead, illuminated by a flash of lightning. A huge figure landed about fifty feet away, kicking up a gust of wind so strong it nearly knocked them over.
It was a thunderbird, a magnificent creature with three pairs of wings. Its wingspan was massive, with golden feathers on its back and pristine white ones on its underbelly. Its tail feathers shimmered with a metallic sheen. Most striking of all was the crown of golden feathers encircling its head, glowing like a solar corona. Its eyes were sharp and alive, crackling with the energy of a storm.
"Frank, old pal, it's been a while!" Newt said with a grin, stepping forward to greet the thunderbird.
Frank, the thunderbird, shuffled closer, lowering his proud head to nuzzle Newt's outstretched hand.
Lucien's memory clicked. Oh, right—this is the thunderbird who drenched New York in obliviation rain years ago.
Thunderbirds lived long lives, often a hundred to two hundred years, and Frank was clearly in his prime. That crown of feathers? A sign of serious strength. The king of this region's thunderbirds, maybe?
SCREECH!
Frank let out a gentle call, rubbing his head against Newt's chest.
Newt listened to the sound, tilting his head thoughtfully. "Alright, buddy, where do you want to take me?"
The thunderbird chirped again. Newt started to interpret, but then he glanced at Lucien, realizing he had a better option.
Lucien caught the look and stepped up. "Mr. Newt, Frank says he wants you to check on his mate. She's up on the mountain."
"Thanks, Lucien," Newt said with a nod.
"No problem."
Stanley's eyebrows shot up, his face a mix of shock and curiosity. Wait, Newt's asking this kid about magical creatures?
And this boy, who looked barely twelve or thirteen, had actually understood what the thunderbird meant? Stanley knew enough about thunderbirds to recognize that Lucien's translation matched Frank's behavior and calls, but to be that precise? It seemed impossible.
Stanley started to take Lucien seriously, recalling what Newt had said before they set out: the kid had a real gift for magical creatures. Is this boy Newt's grandson or something? But no, he'd met Newt's actual grandson before, and this wasn't him. Plus, they didn't even look alike.
SCREECH!
Frank let out a joyful cry. "Kid, you can understand me?"
Lucien didn't mind the "kid" comment—Frank was decades old, after all. He nodded. "Yup. Anything else you want to say? Need our help with something?"
Frank flapped his wings excitedly, careful not to knock anyone over, and stepped closer to Lucien. "My mate's laying eggs, but it's taking longer than usual this time. Since you and Newt are here, can you check on her?"
"No problem, hang on," Lucien said, relaying the request to Newt and Stanley.
Newt took it in stride—he'd seen Lucien's knack for communicating with creatures firsthand, back in the Forbidden Forest when he'd earned the unicorn's blessing. Stanley, though? He was floored. All he saw was Frank squawking, and somehow Lucien translated it like it was nothing. Is this kid for real?
"Stanley, let's move," Newt called, snapping him out of his daze.
"Oh, right! Straight to the peak. I've got plenty of supplies—should be enough," Stanley replied, shaking his head.
To save time, Frank didn't hesitate. He let Lucien, Newt, and Stanley climb onto his back. With a mighty flap of his wings, they were airborne.
The wind roared past, and in just a few breaths, they reached a nest at the mountain's peak. Thunderbirds were massive, so their homes were built in high mountain caves.
SCREECH—
A faint, pained cry drifted from the cave.
Frank answered with an anxious call of his own, landing at the cave's entrance. Lucien and the others hopped off.
Deep inside, the cave was lined with soft, dry branches and leaves. A female thunderbird lay there, smaller than Frank by a couple of sizes, her feathers even whiter.
"Don't worry, we're here to help," Lucien said softly, calming her.
Frank chirped in agreement, backing him up.
---
Meanwhile, in a dense forest nearby, a group of poachers led by a brown-haired man was packing up their gear, finalizing their plans.
"Sherry, make it quick—one shot, one kill," the man, Alastair, said gravely to a striking woman with black hair and red lips.
Sherry stretched lazily, her curves catching the light. "Relax, Alastair. You know I've got this," she said with a playful smirk, tapping his chest.
Alastair's eyes narrowed. "Your success decides whether we win or lose. I don't like failure."
Sherry shrugged off the threat, swaying her hips as she sauntered toward the trees. "Yeah, yeah. Let the hunt begin."
With that, she vanished into the forest.
A black widow spider scuttled silently through the grass.
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