Drift: River of Falcons Book 1

The Next Morning

Apprentices were scurrying from breakfast to their morning lessons. The wrinkled old tortoise watched them patiently from behind a tall clump of grass. Here and there a sorcerer strode by, aloof to the apprentices brushing past him. Sorcerers were studied more thoughtfully, as if the tortoise wanted to take each one's measure.

Now and then, the tortoise's attention shifted to a bank of dark windows high on a grim stone wall. It was said that Vultan's private chambers lay within, but there was no sign of him.

Nor were there any signs of hunting parties assembling to search the valley—a regular morning ritual ever since the hunt for Drift and Ubi had commenced. The return to old routines might have pleased those who called the Keep their home, but it did not seem to please the tortoise. He shook his wrinkled head from side to side as if his worst fears were now confirmed.

A group of apprentices approached his hiding place, which was alongside their path to the practice field. However, by they time they reached his position, he had faded away.

*

June's cottage allowed the elements inside. There were missing shingles through which rain dripped onto the rusty stove, making pops and hisses when the stove was hot, and plops when it was not. One of the window openings had working shutter slats, but on the other they were missing. The wind flapped the ragged curtains, and on occasion, butterflies or even a small songbird would fly inside and circle the little room before flying back out.

June didn't mind. She was half wild herself, and secretly enjoyed the fact that the elders had exiled her to this tumbledown structure far from their village. She liked to swing the rusty-hinged door open and step out onto her porch each morning, rain or shine, in order to sip her first cup of tea while she watched the sun warm the meadow and the shadows retreat to the forest beyond.

And so it was with some surprise that she discovered her door was locked tightly from the outside when she arose to greet the new day.

She went to the front window, which was missing its shutters, and pushed the curtains aside. Boards had been nailed across the opening. She stared at them for a moment, then turned and strode to the rear of her one-room cottage to confirm what she already expected. The shutters on the rear window had been firmly fastened from outside. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, realizing that she had slept harder than usual. Had someone had put a sleep spell on her so that they could close her in without her noticing? That thought made her angrier than the boards over the windows.

She sat down on a stool to think about it. Why, she wondered, would Nautilus want me locked up? She must know I can escape. I could make vines grow through the window shutters and burst them apart. Or I could shift into something large enough to break out, like a mountain goat or bear. Or...

It was extremely unusual for someone to be able to take as many animal forms as June could. Most elders mastered only one, usually a bird of some kind, since the ability to fly made travel so much more convenient. June, however, seemed to have a gift for shifting. It was a gift she liked to keep quiet about since she suspected Nautilus and her elderly cronies felt threatened by her talent. Ironic, she thought, that I have to hide my talents just like Jasper does. In some ways Nautilus's character is not that different from Vultan's. She shook her head, then stood and felt the boards on her window again. They were heavy and well fastened.

June's thoughts revolved around Nautilus and her inner circle of elders. She knew they didn't like her. That much was obvious. The decision to bring her in had been a mistake, Nautilus had told her more than once. I guess I proved to be the antithesis of the promising understudy Nautilus had hoped for, June thought. But still, to lock me up while I'm sleeping? It seems absurd.