A small whirlwind appeared in the center of the sky. The wind sucked in clouds and soon developed into a spiral of bright colors-glowing rose red, soft golden yellow, lush spring green, vivid peacock blue, and elegant violet. The colors seemed alive, moving, mixing, and changing. Sparkles glistened from the whirlwind as it picked up speed, like small stars dancing in the dark. The winds grew stronger and stronger, strong enough to blow the crows and ravens right off the ground. They struggled, flapped, and yelled. But they were sucked into the whirlpool of colors and never seen again.

Strangely, the wind did nothing to the woodbirds or the theater members. They stood still, watching the wonder unfold before their eyes.

But Turnatt didn’t get the title of tyrant for nothing. He was a sly hawk. Seeing the wind grow stronger, he sneaked away from the battleground and into a cave. He didn’t realize that in this cave huddled the red and the blue. Fortunately for the woodbirds in the cave, the hawk didn’t venture very far inside. He stayed in the entrance, observing the sky and the cardinals’ camp.

Suddenly a streak of forked lightning lit up the whole forest. An earsplitting roll of thunder followed, a sound that vibrated along the grounds and made the tall trees shake. When the lightning faded away into the misty air, there hovered an enormous white bird holding a gleaming sword. Swordbird!

The bird had flashing eyes and a light-built frame. He seemed like a gigantic dove at first sight, with dark orbs, a red bill, and scarlet feet. Yet he was different from a dove. He had the gentleness and grace of a swan, the nobility and speed of an eagle, though he was three times larger than the two added together. His wingspan resembled a pale spread of clouds, fanning above the forest.

Swordbird’s dazzling sword looked like a sleek silver dragon, and the Leasorn embedded on the hilt was the dragon’s eye. The “dragon” sparkled with a myriad of rich, colorful ripples that intertwined with the red rays from the gem in Aska’s beak.

Through the glare of the Leasorn light, Aska could see the guardian of peace, Swordbird. Her heart swelled with joy. Swordbird, she thought, you’re really here. Swordbird smiled at her, and she beamed back.

Glenagh’s beak fell open in awe. He quickly adjusted his spectacles in order to have an even clearer look at the white bird. That lean, muscular figure, that magnificent sword, and those feathers of shimmering whiteness. Precisely like the descriptions in the Old Scripture, thought Glenagh, amazed.

Skylion, Flame-back, and the rest of the woodbirds and the theater birds thought of all the Swordbird stories Glenagh had told them before. It was hard to believe that Swordbird-the wonderful, holy Swordbird from those tales-was truly here.

After playing the interlude, Cody and the singers began the second verse of the song.

Turnatt, crouching in the cave, almost fainted from fear. This was the second time in his life he had seen Swordbird. He tried to back away, but his legs didn’t work. So he leaned against the mouth of the cave, peering at the sky. Aha! He saw a blue jay on one of the camp trees, with a shining thing in her beak. It must be that thing that made Swordbird appear! If I wrest it away, Swordbird will vanish, Turnatt thought. He was just about to rush out to Aska but hesitated. Swordbird will probably kill me if I go out. I’d better remain hidden here.

In the darkness Turnatt couldn’t see the other birds in the cave, but they could see him, silhouetted against the light from the entrance. They held their breath. Some of the birds who were able to walk carefully picked up some spears, waiting for an opportune moment to throw them at Turnatt.

Swordbird spread his wings even wider and headed for the cave. Turnatt shrank back. Just at that moment he heard a whistling noise behind him, the sound of something being thrown. The next thing he knew, a sharp spear struck his rear end, and several others brushed by. Without thinking, he leaped forward, almost flying into Swordbird.

Swordbird waved his sword and pointed it at Turnatt. Turnatt dipped his head to avoid its shiny beams. He heard Swordbird talking to him in his mind.

You, hawk! The last time I saw you, you were enslaving birds at the Waterthorn. I blinded your left eye and gave you a chance to give up vice. But you threw it away. You came to Stone-Run, built Fortress Glooming, stole more eggs, and caught more woodbirds. Now your day of doom has come!

“No! No! Mercy, Swordbird!” Turnatt begged, bowing down before the terrifying white bird. But his single yellow eye darted cunningly about. Swordbird frowned and shook his head but lowered his sword a little. Turnatt seized his chance. He leaped up from the ground and, flapping his wings furiously, rushed at Aska.

Aska wasn’t afraid. She held the Leasorn higher as she took out her saber and pointed it at Turnatt. Cody leaped forward, ready to defend her.

But before Turnatt got close, the sword of Swordbird sparkled with brilliance. Turnatt instantly burst into flame. A screech of horror came from the ball of fire as it dropped to the ground.

“Turnatt’s dead! Turnatt’s dead!” the woodbirds cheered.

Swordbird came low, hovering above their heads. He smiled and spoke to them in their minds.

Turnatt is no more. Enjoy freedom and peace again. Peace is wonderful; freedom is sacred. As long as there is peace and freedom, there is tomorrow. Farewell, friends.

I will always watch over you.

Swordbird beat his immense wings, flying higher and higher until he was no more than a white spot in the gray sky. The woodbirds and theater birds flew after him for a while, waving and calling good-bye.

Gradually the sky turned blue, and a rainbow hung in the air, a rainbow that promised peace.