Drift: River of Falcons Book 1

Choices

They raced diagonally across a bed of dead roses, clambered over another stone wall that had begun to tumble down, and ran into the forest, pushing through high ferns and whortleberries and stopping only when they reached a small open patch of grass in the middle of a thick stand of hemlock trees.

"Catch your breath," Ubi said between pants. "Then we'll head for deeper forest." He was leaning over, his hands on his knees, but Drift was not as badly out of breath. She glanced around the tiny clearing. It was so peaceful that she found it hard to believe they were being chased. Golden-yellow buttercups bloomed in the grass and an orange Fritillary butterfly circled lazily from blossom to blossom. She turned toward Ubi. "Not the forest. We need to go back to check on my grandmother."

Ubi shrugged. "If you think you can defeat Magus again. Can you?" He eyed her suspiciously. "Was that even you back there?"

Drift shook her head. "Someone spoke in my ear and told me what to do, and I think he did most of the work. Summer helped with the vines, though. Did you see her blue butterfly?"

"Good," Ubi said. "That means she probably got away and we don't have to go back."

"I want to be sure," Drift said.

"You said you got a sending telling you what to do. Who was it from?"

"It sounded like this boy I met recently. I don't know his name."

"Is he an apprentice?"

"Yes," Drift said.

"Then why'd he help you instead of Magus?"

Drift shrugged.

"I know who he was. There's only one apprentice who helps people," Ubi said. He looked around, then added, "The forest is thickest to the east. Come on."

"I'm not going to abandon my grandmother!"

"Is she really your—"

"I don't see what that has to do with it."

"You don't look alike," Ubi said.

"I need to go back and make sure she—"

"If she got away," Ubi interrupted, "she'll expect you to meet her at home, right? She's probably half way there by now. Why would she stay in Magus's back yard?" He flashed her a reassuring smile.

Drift bit her lip.

"Look," Ubi said, "if we go back to the Palace, they'll catch us for sure. Why don't you just contact her with a sending?"

"I don't know how."

Ubi looked incredulous. "You were raised by a witch," he said. "Didn't she teach you her tricks?"

"Only how to cure people when they're sick and take care of animals and things like that."

"That's too bad," Ubi said. "It really is."

*

Vultan paused, a far-away look in his eyes. He was sitting at an ebony table in his private suite of rooms, a partially eaten breakfast before him, while a gaunt, black-cloaked servant stood waiting at a respectful distance.

"Master?" the servant asked after several moments had elapsed. "Did you want me to clear your breakfast dishes?"

"Shh," Vultan hissed.

The servant stood silently.

Vultan looked up. "What are you waiting for?" he snapped.

"But you didn't tell me whether you wanted me to clear your dishes, Master. I, I did not wish to disturb you."