Drift: River of Falcons Book 1

Hunters and Assassins

"Mira falca!" Arty exclaimed as he came back inside. "A huge white falcon is out there, circling us. Es hostis?"

The falcon call rang again, and the elders shifted uncomfortably. One of them reached behind him for a tall bow that had been leaning against the wall, but Alva shook her head and he put it down again.

When the falcon called a third time, Drift sat up and rubbed her eyes.

Ubi pushed between two of the seated elders and rushed to her. "Are you all right? I thought you were..."

"I'm not dead," she said, "if that's what you're asking. Where am I?"

Ubi didn't answer. He just stared at her, his eyes wet.

"What's the matter with you?" Drift demanded. "Were you crying?"

"Who me?" Ubi said. "No! But they had to revive you. It, um, took a while."

"Oh." Drift looked around the dimly lit room full of elders, and realized every one of them was staring at her. Their expressions were a mix of suspicion and surprise. "Maybe we should be going now."

"She be back from mortuus," an old woman exclaimed, making a complex warding-off sign in Drift's direction.

"Not death, torpor," Alva explained. "She was in a deep trance."

"Then why she not respond to your Kingfisher Spirit?" another elder demanded. "Quaero cur!  I demand to know why!"

"Cic, nos insistere," another elder agreed. "We must insist. Non decipient nos. Hic aliquid malum!" [Do not deceive us. This is something evil!]

"And why a white falcon?" a third exclaimed. "The Gyrfalcon, it be bad bird, malum avem, it be too strong, and non fida. Not trustable!"

Alva held up a hand. "She responded to her own Spirit-bird, rather than mine. It is best that way. It shows she is finding her potens. Her power, yes? As for the Gyrfalcon, it is a very dangerous creature, true, but these are very dangerous times."

The elders began to argue amongst themselves in rapid Lutrafama, leaving Ubi to focus on Drift. "Are you really okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm weak, but I'll live. I must've been sleeping. I had a dream."

"What was it?"

"I was a white falcon. Vultures were chasing me. They blocked the sun for a while, but I got away from them."

"I'm glad you did," Ubi said. "Promise me, please, no more magic after this?"

Drift nodded. "It didn't go very well, did it?"

"It went really well!" Arty said. He had come into the circle to join them. "You saved our village from the vines."

"I don't think your elders are going to thank me for fixing a problem I made."

"Um, actually, some of them say we should help you, but others are still talking about maximo supplicio. Sorry about that."

"What's that mean?" Ubi asked.

"Maximum punishment," Drift translated.

Arty nodded. "Probably involving a fish rack, a coil of rope, and—"

Drift held up a hand. "Spare us the details."

*

In the burnt pasture beside Summer's cottage, Sasha was staring at the face in the bark. "Who or what are you?" he demanded. "And do you work with the sorcerers?"