Lord of the Wings Read Online Free Page A

Dr. Smoot’s property not enclosed by the fence around his house. It would be silent until noon today, but it still captivated the children. And beyond the Fun Fair was the field in which Randall had erected the Maize Maze—a giant ten-acre cornstalk maze. He’d originally hoped to plant the world’s largest cornstalk maze, but upon learning that the current record-holding maze was over forty acres, he’d decided to start small and work up to world domination in the all-important maze race.
    Then, shortly after we passed the maze, the children’s excitement reached a fever pitch when the zoo gates loomed into sight in the distance. Or maybe it wasn’t the zoo gates that excited them but the figure standing in front of them—a tall figure in a homespun gray cloak. His hood was pulled over his face, but as we drew closer you could imagine you caught a flash of the piercing eyes beneath. He carried a staff as tall as he was, with a carved raven at the top, and around his shoulders swirled half a dozen ravens.
    â€œCool,” “awesome,” and “wow,” were the small boys’ verdicts.
    The birds banked and soared around the figure, occasionally landing on his arms or his shoulders. And as I watched, one soared over its head and unleashed a spatter of droppings on his hood. The figure didn’t seem to notice, but then perhaps that was the reason he was wearing the hood pulled up to cover his head so completely.
    â€œIs that Gandalf?” Mason whispered.
    â€œNo,” Jamie said. “It’s Great-grandfather. He owns the zoo.”
    But even Josh and Jamie were slightly cowed by Grandfather’s imposing figure in his unfamiliar garb. Our four charges scrambled out of the van and went to stand at a respectful distance from Grandfather. He waited while all the vans and cars emptied out and the children and chaperones gathered around him. The sooty black ravens all settled on his arms and shoulders and stared at the children as if studying them.
    From time to time, the ravens would utter harsh cries and, occasionally, recognizable words.
    â€œNevermore!” exclaimed one who was sitting on Grandfather’s shoulder.
    â€œNevermore!” agreed one who was trying to perch on his head.
    â€œDoom! Doom!” croaked another.
    â€œRoom service,” chimed in a fourth. Grandfather, who rather enjoyed the first three ravens, scowled at the fourth and shook his staff at it.
    When the circle of children and chaperones was complete, Grandfather glanced up slightly, and seeing no wings directly overhead, he pushed the hood back, dislodging two of the ravens.
    â€œGreetings, mortal children,” he intoned. “Are you ready to visit the Creatures of the Night?”
    Enthusiastic cheers greeted this. Mrs. Shiffley stepped forward.
    â€œBefore we get started, I want everybody to remember that we’re guests here,” she began.
    Some of the children fidgeted, while others put on the sort of ostentatiously obedient and attentive faces that marked them in my eyes as potential troublemakers in need of watching.
    â€œI think all of you know Dr. Montgomery Blake, the very famous zoologist and environmentalist who owns the Caerphilly Zoo,” Mrs. Shiffley went on. “I want you to be quiet and listen to him. Anyone who misbehaves will be sent back here to wait in the parking lot while the rest of the class finishes the tour.”
    A hushed and anxious silence followed her words. Then Grandfather stepped forward.
    â€œDon’t worry,” he said. “We won’t be sending anyone back to the parking lot.”
    A few cheers greeted this statement. Mrs. Shiffley frowned.
    â€œWe’ll feed anyone who misbehaves to the hyenas!”
    Loud cheers, especially from the children who seemed most likely to become hyena bait if Grandfather were serious.
    â€œLet me tell you about our new exhibit, the Creatures of the Night,”