Chasing the Prophecy

“Nia was going to provide horses?” Aram asked, his voice a low rumble.

“Ideally, yes,” Farfalee replied. She sat near Jasher, petting the eagle that perched on her forearm. “Her first priority is to recruit enough drinlings to man a ship. After that, if possible, she will endeavor to send horses and an escort to the woods north of a hamlet called Hilloby.”

“Let’s hope she succeeds,” Drake said. “It’s a considerable walk to the Inland Sea.”

“How far to Hilloby?” Corinne wondered.

Jasher squinted at the sky, then scanned the horizon. “Maybe three days on foot.”

“Not much cover out there,” Jason observed.

“We’ll travel at night,” Jasher said. “Hide during the day.”

“The comforts of life as a fugitive,” Drake sighed. “Stumbling about in the dark without mounts.”

“It beats capture and torture,” Farfalee said shortly.

“Granted,” Drake agreed. “No need to take offense.”

“No need to emphasize obvious discomforts,” she replied. The eagle spread its wings and gave a shriek.

“You’re upsetting the bird,” Drake accused.

“I’m upsetting . . . ,” Farfalee repeated in a huff. She compressed her lips, clearly making an effort to restrain her temper.

“They can sense bossiness,” Drake warned matter-of-factly.

Jason worked to keep his expression composed. He didn’t look toward Corinne, who also seemed to be resisting her amusement.

Jasher leaned close to Farfalee. “Don’t let him get to you,” he said gently, touching her elbow.

Farfalee shrugged away from her husband’s touch. With a measured motion of her arm she sent the eagle into the sky. Many stars were now visible. The eagle soared away.

“I can’t believe it can find its way back to you,” Jason said, eyes skyward, hoping to change the subject.

“Eldrin was no amateur,” Farfalee said, her tone kinder. “He engineered this breed of eagles to be ideal messengers. Once they bond with a person, the eagles can find them no matter how separated they become.”

“The three we have are also bonded to Galloran?” Jason asked.

“And Tark, and Io, to be safe,” Farfalee said. “Once we learn what Darian has to tell us, I have but to command, and the eagles will carry the message to our friends.”

“And until you send a message, they keep returning to you,” Jason said.

“Correct. I have worked with messenger eagles for centuries. I spent many days at Mianamon’s aviary selecting the most reliable birds and prepping them. Until we need them, they should remain self-sufficient—hunt their own food, find their own shelter. They’ll return to me every couple of days.”

“An expert tracker might follow them to us,” Aram cautioned.

“Possibly,” Farfalee conceded. “But that’s a chance we have to take.”

“Jason has Ferrin’s ear,” Drake reminded everyone.

Farfalee glared at her brother. “Which is a welcome redundancy, even if the displacer might only be interested in spying on us.”

“He might be able to hear you,” Drake muttered.

“I hope he does,” Farfalee said. “I won’t trust that scoundrel until this is over and he’s done his part. And I don’t mind him hearing it.”

“He won’t hear much,” Jason said. “I keep the ear heavily bundled, deep in my bag.”

“Probably for the best,” Farfalee said.

Somewhere overhead, an eagle let out a piercing cry. Jason tilted his head back but couldn’t spot the bird in the darkening sky. He didn’t like the idea of enemies tracking them using the messenger eagles. Unfortunately, Farfalee was right—they couldn’t afford to place all their trust in Ferrin.

Drake stretched, fists extended, back arched. “What if some accident should befall you, dear sister? Would the eagles come to your seed? Are they bonded to any of the rest of us?”

“They’re also bonded to Jasher,” she replied. “They would also come to Corinne.”

“Jasher?” Drake challenged. “Jasher dies all the time! He has too many lives to spare. Why not Jason?”

“I’m allergic to eagles,” Jason joked, trying to keep out of it.

“Then why not Aram? He strikes me as a survivor.”

Aram grunted. “The survivor suggests that if we need darkness to travel, we take advantage while we have it.”

Drake extended a hand toward the half giant. “See? Forget bonding the bird to him. Why isn’t he the leader?”

“I’ve sampled that role,” Aram chuckled. “Too much responsibility. Too much accountability.”

Drake shook his head. “Mark my words, he’ll outlive us all.”

“Aram certainly has a point,” Jasher said. “We should get underway.”

“Are you the leader?” Drake asked with mock curiosity, eyes on Jasher, then glancing at Farfalee.

Jason noticed Corinne shift uncomfortably. She didn’t like conflict, and when Drake got in a mood to bother his sister, there was always plenty. At least Farfalee looked like she was trying to remain patient.

“Jasher is in charge of tactics,” Farfalee sighed. “Aram is the muscle. Jason has the ear. Corinne has her sword. You’re the pest. And I’m the leader.”

“I can live with that,” Drake said. “Leaders draw a lot of attention. The pest sometimes survives.”

“We’re all going to survive,” Farfalee affirmed.

“Not according to the oracle,” Drake reminded her.

“Maybe the casualties will be with the other group,” Aram speculated.

“That’s the spirit!” Drake praised, clapping the big warrior on the back. “Friends, if we watch Aram, we might have a chance. Dodge when he dodges. Duck when he ducks.”

“I feel a headache coming on,” Farfalee deadpanned. “Drake, why don’t you scout ahead?”

Drake glanced at Aram. “What do you say? Will I survive the assignment?”

“I give you better odds than if you keep needling your sister.”

“Good enough for me,” Drake declared, rising. “Try to keep up.”

* * *

The next three nights were spent covering as much ground as possible, with the secondary mission of finding concealment before sunrise. Aram toted his heavy sword and armor as well as the two buckets of orantium. The first day they hid in the middle of some bushes. The second day was spent in a shallow ravine. During the third day they huddled against a steep hillside.