Cairo emerged from the water at the base of Clifftop where a narrow inlet led beneath a hood of rock. Twelve stopped Lazarus in the shadowy waters, slinging a rope round a boulder.

Above them, birds circled the gigantic rock, landing and blasting off in thousands of chaotic patterns. Erin continued to watch them, amazed by the lack of collisions and accidents. The noise was incredible— a squawking, scraping, beating, hungry din echoed around inside the small cave.

"Now what?" asked Twelve.

"Now," Cairo said. "We climb."

Erin lent backwards, staring up at the spiralling heights.

She stumbled, unbalanced.

Twelve put out a long arm to steady her.

"But it's so high."

"Yes," Twelve added. "How are we supposed to—?"

Cairo looked appalled.

"Do you really expect Bavorski Beetlestone, Governor of this fair isle and one true ruler of the Endless Blue, to fly down and treat with you here, on the docks of Clifftop, like some common pirate?"

"That would be most beneficial," Twelve said.

Erin wondered just what sort of bird Bavorski Beetlestone could be. A giant eagle? A mighty sea hawk? A wise old owl? Perhaps he wasn't a bird at all.

Cairo snapped his beak. "Follow me, scarecrow."

Erin turned to Twelve. Could Bavorski Beetlestone be one of Twelve's sisters? One of her scarecrows from Coldharbour Farm?

The penguin hopped expertly from one rock to the next, slowly ascending. He shimmied along a thin escarpment that ran around the belly of Clifftop, disappearing from sight.

"I can't go that way," Jack said, holding out his frayed hands. "Send down a basket or a rope and I'll happily meet you up there."

"Don't worry, Jack," said Erin. "You stay here. Twelve and I have got this."

Twelve didn't look convinced.

Erin bounded after the penguin, clutching the wet rocks as she rose above Twelve's head, working her way along the tiny ledge. Twelve made short work of the first few metres, her long limbs lifting her quickly until she caught up with Erin.

Ahead, Cairo hoisted himself up onto a second level filled with nesting birds.

Twelve and Erin peered over the edge.

An albatross screeched at the top of her voice making Erin's foot slip. She hung for a moment by one hand, her skin rippling with fright. Twelve grabbed her by the waist and launched her up.

The albatross retreated to her nest, snapping angrily, her wings spread wide.

"Don't mind her," Cairo insisted, waving the albatross away. "Noisy so-and-so."

Erin picked herself up and looked out to sea.

They were about fifty metres up now. A small clutch of wind had gathered, something that was barely noticeable at sea level.

Twelve joined her, towering over the nesting birds who tightened themselves over their precious eggs.

"How much further?" Twelve asked.

"Are you tired?" Cairo asked, mockingly. "We're only a fraction of the way up. You can sleep when you're dead. That's what my mother used to tell me!"

"I don't sleep," Twelve told him.

"Well, that's nice," Cairo said indifferently. "Perhaps you're dead already."

They climbed again. Round and round and round Clifftop they spun, gripping onto sharp rocks and slippery ledges that hung precariously over the increasingly distant sea.

As they reached another plateau, about halfway up, Erin turned to Twelve.

"I cannot go on," she said. "I don't know how the penguin does it."

"It's mind over matter," Cairo barked. "By all rights I should not be able to climb this high, but here I am, climbing. Go figure."

Something occurred to Erin.

"You're a flightless bird."

"Someone's read a book," Cairo replied, sarcastically.

"Seems a little barbaric to make a flightless bird guide us to the top. Why not use one that can fly? That would be far more sensible."

Cairo was already making his way to the next ledge.

"Sensible," he scoffed. "Just because I am not best suited for a job, does not mean that I cannot fulfil it."

Cairo spun on his flippers and hauled himself yet higher.

"We're an equal opportunities community here."

Twelve dropped down.

"Climb on my back," she said to Erin. "I cannot carry you up, as I need both hands, but if you can hold on tight, I think we can make it."

Erin slid her exhausted arms around Twelve's neck and dug her knees into the stiff beams of her back, her feet resting on the scarecrow's hips.

"Do you think that Bavorski Beetlestone is one of your sisters?" Erin whispered, contemplating the idea more and more the further they climbed.

"I don't know," Twelve replied, hauling them both up. "Bavorski Beetlestone is an awfully strange name for a scarecrow. What's wrong with her number? I think Twelve is a brilliant name. Says everything about me. I don't think I could be a Carrie or a Beth or a Nerina. Not even a Persephone. Those are human names. I'm a scarecrow. And Twelve is a scarecrow name."

Erin's grip tightened on Twelve's neck as she scampered sideways like a giant spider.

"Don't look down," she told Erin as they followed the determined, petulant penguin up and up and up.

Erin's eyes were streaming onto the shoulder of Twelve's red pirate jacket when they emerged on the windy summit of Clifftop.

The area was almost triangular. Large and mostly flat. Wind whipped viciously between three chiselled pillars that stood at each corner— a vulture perched on top of each. They peered down at Twelve and Erin with red, hungry, sore-looking eyes.

One of the vultures rustled its wings and barked, sharp and cold.

Cairo waddled between the columns and turned to face the visitors.

Erin looked around for any sign of Bavorski Beetlestone, wondering what sort of bird— or perhaps scarecrow— their leader might be.

Twelve eyed the panting penguin with interested. "Are you—?" she began.

"Heavens, no," Cairo replied, frowning. "Me? Bavorski Beetlestone? Ha! You'd like that, wouldn't you? A flightless bird, Governor of a perilously high column of rock in the middle of The Endless Blue. A devilish thought for a devil-faced scarecrow."

"What kind of a name is Bavorski Beetlestone anyway?" Erin said. "It's such a mouthful."

Twelve was nodding, but the penguin gave Erin a withering look.

"You know nothing of birds, do you?"

Erin felt her face flush. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. It's just—"

"We all have two names. Much like you humans, although we did it first," Cairo said. "But we use Bavorski Beetlestone's name in full because he is Governor of this fair isle and one true ruler of the Endless Blue. It's the law. As old as time, as ancient as Death herself."

The penguin's eyes became lost in the distance, perhaps drifting off into some primal memories, passed down through generations of chinstraps.

"So," Twelve said. "What's your full name?"

"Olaf Cairochase," he replied quickly. "Cairo for day-to-day use, you see. And up here we have Tammerin Bloodpost, Arnold Fleshmask and Horatio Bonedark."

He pointed to each vulture as he said their name.

"Blood, Flesh, and Bone," Erin whispered, smiling at the grisly sound.

"Quite so," Cairo said.

"Ah, so then, Bavorski Beetlestone is just— Beetle."

Cairo shot Erin a dark look. "Never," he said, striding towards her. "We never call him that. And you'll remember it well, young lady."

He straightened himself again, pulling his wings and belly in.

"Silence, please. Behold, Lord Bavorski Beetlestone, Governor of this fair isle and one true ruler of the Endless Blue."

The penguin swept away, disappearing theatrically behind one of the stone pillars.

A head appeared from the other side of the summit. It was not a birds head but that of a creature Erin never imagined in her wildest dreams would be at the summit of Clifftop.

It was a dog.

He had a long, elegant face and floppy ears. His body was naturally thin, white with faint dappled brown markings along each side.

As the dog emerged, a curious-looking creature could be seen riding on his back. He was also predominantly white, with feathers tipped black, and a bright orange face around a razor-sharp beak. His long, pencil-thin legs stretched all the way to the ground. He seemed to be holding them up to stop them from dragging on the dusty stone.

He was a secretary bird. Skittish and elegant.

The dog came to a rehearsed halt between the pillars and lowered himself to the ground, tail wagging happily in the dirt.

The vultures howled a distasteful noise that, in some backward corner of the world, could be considered a fanfare.

"Welcome," the secretary bird said. "I am Bavorski Beetlestone. Governor of this fair isle and one true ruler of the Endless Blue."

Erin grinned at the pomp and nonsense of the bird's entrance.

"I'm Erin, last surviving daughter of humanity and, um, steward of Coldharbour Farm. This is Twelve. She's— a scarecrow. Builder of boats and scarer of— crows."

"Yes. Terrifying," Bavorski Beetlestone said. "And what brings you, and this monster, to Clifftop?"

"Food, first. Adventure, second," Twelve said, slightly put out by the insult. "And to find those that we've lost— Erin's brother Clyde, and my sisters."

Bavorski Beetlestone slid off the dog and approached.

"Sisters?" he said. "Who ever heard of a scarecrow having sisters?"

Twelve glanced at Erin.

"Well," the girl said. "There not sisters in the traditional sense, but I made each of them, so—"

"Replica's then. Nothing more," the bird decided.

"No. Not at all," Erin told him. "They're all very different, unique in their own way."

"Do not disagree with me, young lady," Bavorski Beetlestone snapped, eyeing the vultures who were shifting restlessly on their columns.

"They are my sisters," Twelve insisted. "I found one of them already. Her name is Five. She's deeply troubled. I have to find a way to help her."

"I do not care for the troubles of your hotchpotch, replica, mutant family," Bavorski Beetlestone snapped.

Twelve stiffened.

Bavorski Beetlestone turned to Erin. "And as for human beings, we'd thought you'd all gone the way of the dinosaurs. Brother, you say."

Erin's eyes widened in anticipation.

The bird shook his head. "I have waters to watch and skies to govern. Do you really think that the affairs of scarecrows and human girls would interest me? There are greater matters that require my attention than your petty squabbles."

"The Patchwork Woman," Twelve said.

"And The Blue King," Erin added.

Bavorski Beetlestone rocketed into the air and landed on the nearest pillar, knocking Bone to the ground with an agonised screech.

"What do you know of The Patchwork Woman and The Blue King?" he asked suspiciously, pacing in circles, his wings outstretched.

"Almost nothing," said Erin.

Bavorski Beetlestone laughed.

"But we do know that The Patchwork Woman is looking for a human girl."

Erin swallowed hard. "She's looking for me."

The secretary bird spun, staring at Erin. "And what does she want with you?"

"We don't know that either, but it cannot be good. She promised to grant the wickermen anything they desires, give them back their bodies, if they handed me over. They say she possesses some sort of dark magic."

"Dark magic?" Bavorski Beetlestone scoffed. "Wickermen? What in the name of the Endless Blue is one of those?"

"Our friend Jack is a wickerman," Twelve said. "He's down there in our boat. He couldn't make it up here I'm afraid. He's not really built for climbing."

Bavorski Beetlestone flicked his head suddenly and the three vultures vanished over the lip of Clifftop.

They plunged towards the sea, arching away before they hit the water and swooped beneath the rocky cavern where Jack sat waiting.

Blood, Flesh and Bone's claws bit into his arms and shoulders, tearing him into the air. Jack screamed helplessly as the earth spiralled away beneath him. He soared upwards, circling the rock until he crashed heavily on hard, cool stone.

Looking up, an angry bird stood over him.

"Jack, is it? Nice of you to join us," Bavorski Beetlestone said, kicking the metal bucket off his head. "Oh, I see. He's made of sticks and leaves and dirt. How very novel. What was the meaning of the bucket?"

Jack was reaching around helplessly for his disguise.

Twelve dragged the wickerman to his feet as Erin explained. "He was afraid you were going to eat him."

"Eat him?" Bavorski Beetlestone laughed, darkly. "We're far more likely to make a nest out of him."

The vultures, now back on the perches, croaked mercilessly.

"No," Jack said, reaching beneath the blanket for his axe. "Stay away from me."

"Oh, calm down will you," Bavorski Beetlestone said, sounding tired. "We're not going to eat you, or make you into a nest, or use you as kindling, or anything like that."

"Then why make us climb up here? Cairo said you had a request to ask of us."

The secretary bird approached. "For many years Clifftop and The Scrapers have been at war," he told her quietly. "The Blue King and his infidels rose from the ashes of the human race, claiming ownership of the Endless Blue. The sea and the sky have always belonged to the birds. We couldn't let them take it from us. And we most certainly couldn't— share it."

"Why ever not?" Erin said. "There's so much to go around."

Bavorski snapped his beak irritably.

"But times have changed," he said. "The Patchwork Woman now claims the Endless Blue for her own. We've sent spies to Boothill, those that returned have not been the same again. A strange darkness has taken them."

Erin and Twelve caught each other's eye.

"She commands monsters," the bird said. "Within and without—"

His voice trailed off, his feathers shuddering beneath the rising wind.

Bavorski paced in circles again, clearly upset. Taking a long breath, he settled himself. "I need you to take something to The Blue King."

"Something?" Erin said.

"A gift," Bavorski Beetlestone said. "A token of friendship. An alliance."

"What sort of gift?"

Bavorski Beetlestone looked down at the dog.

"Socks."