At that same moment, a crow circled overhead, crying and cawing until we both gave it our attention. Then, with a great flourish, it swooped down to land beside Sage on the railing. And before either of us could blink, the bird’s black feathers and beak faded away. A shape grew in its place, a shimmering shadow that transformed like liquid silver until finally, a lovely young woman sat on the railing, legs crossed at the ankles. With a slender waist and long hair the same color as the raven, her voice sounded like wind rushing through the trees.
It was Elspeth. My daughter. Wearing the same vexing grin I saw on all the local teenagers. Her human features were growing more pronounced with each passing year.
“A fine entrance,” I said.
Then movement on the green below caught her eye. In an instant her posture changed, her fingers curved into talons and her breathing slowed. The wild, untamed stance of the Hunt caught me by surprise.
My daughter was growing up. Much faster than I had expected.
Chapter 5
Invitation in Hand
Thane:
We flew through the silver doors of home, fair and square, with an invitation in hand. We soared through night skies, never tired, never weary, always knowing that somewhere up ahead, that exotic land called Ticonderoga Falls waited. Eager as newborn fawns testing wobbly legs, we followed the wind currents down and ever down, my blood-brother, River, and me. I knew that I should have stopped to pay my respects to Ash of the Blackmoor clan, for this land truly belonged to him. Though he was kin, there’d be a high price to pay if I broke the clan rules so early.
But I had plenty to do on this journey and following rules wasn’t part of it.
I had to explore the wilderness, all of it, on my own first. Had to figure out what I really thought. I wanted to know if all those tales told around the fires of home were true or not. So it wasn’t until River and I set foot atop that high mount, resting our wings for the first time in near a full day, that we took in all that belonged to our cousin, Ash.
There we stood, wing to wing like the brothers-in-skin that we were, scanning the valley from riverbed to cloud-scraped peaks, both of our mouths hanging open in amazement. Then, while the sun colored the afternoon sky, we sniffed the air, prowled the wood and changed our skins to mimic the myriad creatures that lumbered through the forest.
Bear. Coyote. Mountain lion.
And all the while, we smelled the humans, just far enough away that we couldn’t see them. I knew they were all tucked away and safe, hidden behind wooden doors and closed windows, all scattered throughout the village.
We had been invited to the Hunt, yet I hungered for more.
So, I cast one arm toward the east and one toward the west.
“Choose,” I said.
River stared at me like I had lost my mind. He didn’t know my plans. No one did, yet.
“Let’s fly the perimeter boundary of his land, then come back here before the sun ends her journey.”
He grinned. “Aye, and we’ll see all that Cousin Ash has. We’ll be that much more ready for the Hunt.”
I nodded.
“West,” he said and we both knew that he wanted to fly away from the harsh rays of the sun. No matter to me. I’d be happy flying into fire itself, to get what I wanted. We both soared off then, our wings always brushing up against that bright silver edge of Ash’s territory, clearly marked by magic for intruders to see—just like a wolf sprays urine on trees and rocks to warn other packs away. We passed over trees beyond counting, plus two rivers, then soared through a narrow mountain pass until we saw the beginnings of the village, a cluster of wooden houses here and there. All neat and tidy, with root gardens and fruit trees, metal vehicles that growled when they rolled over rivers of black tar. All the human dwellings thrummed with dreams, both the waking and the sleeping sort.
For the first time in five seasons, the hunger in me felt like a good thing.
Trees rushed past, a mere wingspan below us, and the sound of the river called, sweet as song. An ache burned in my gut and I realized, with each beat of my wings, that both my brother and I were searching for prey.
We hadn’t meant to do it, but couldn’t stop ourselves, nonetheless.
And now the scent was growing stronger. Man-flesh, somewhere nearby.
“There!” River said, pulling me to a steady halt and pointing down.
My brother always has been a good tracker.
It was almost right below us—a human male. Pushing his way through the brown-shadowed pines, hiking over a twisted wood-chip trail, all by himself and tired of it by now.
My heart quickened and I slid my tongue along my bottom lip.
The human had so many dreams—worlds within worlds—all spinning about him like copper circles, wheels and spirals, glowing like sparks, like fire.
I nodded at River and we sailed to the forest floor, silent as the wind, our skin and wings blending perfectly with the dappled shadows. Together we landed with a soft thump, one on either side of the path, watching him through a wall of black oak and coulter pine.
The human stopped, hands on his hips, sweat staining his shirt. “What was that?” he called out, head cocked. “Is someone there?”
An unnatural quiet fell upon the wood—it always does when we hunt. All the birds and animals hold still, even the wind refuses to blow.
I could have sung an incantation, dropped the human to his knees with a single chanted word.