There were no offerings tonight. Her quarry had his own falcons to feed. Zongor gazed with envy across the river into the aviary, where the aged wizard introduced the younglings to his raptors. A gray curtain of clouds at the edge of the sky encroached on the dwindling light. Soon, there would be rain.
All day, Ytrios had ridden behind Zongor’s eyes, wanting to watch Charlot every minute. Again and again, she’d protested that she must find food or she would be too weak to fly, but Ytrios would not relent. Only when the three humans had disappeared into the red tower could she steal time to hunt, and the day was nearly gone.
Worse, there was almost no prey to be had. All she could manage to kill was a juvenile squirrel, far too small to sate her. A long and hungry night loomed ahead of her as she perched high in the boughs of a silver fir, spying across the river.
Within the tower, directed the boy and girl. Zongor watched with keen interest as they offered each bird a morsel of fish in greeting. How hungry she was! Part of her wanted to fly over there, spread her glorious wings and demand tribute, but it was a foolish thought. The other raptors would surely tear her to pieces.
There were many birds in the aviary, and they all seemed happy for the wizard’s return. One by one, she watched each of them fly down to perch on the wizard’s leather glove, and he spoke with each, from the great eagle-owl down to the lowliest starling. If she had not seen the eagle-owl chattering away with her own eyes she never would have believed it. They were the most recalcitrant of the strix.
Besides the eagle-owl and four rainbow-winged starlings, there was a gorgeous female harrier with gray-black plumage, and a pair of mated goshawks. When Charlot introduced his falcons, Zongor straightened on her perch, appraising each. There were two young female peregrines. One was young, the other’s breast banding was defined enough that she must be nearly three. Next came a much older male merlin, who had a stately blue-gray black and a pronounced mustache. They were well-fed and in high spirits, and the merlin’s plumage was particularly well groomed. She suspected his opinion of himself was rather high.
How his tune would change if she were there! Gyrfalcons were the greatest of the falco! Yet, surely she looked a mess after days of pursuit. She had an urge to preen herself but she did not want to look away from the aviary.
As she spied, three loquacious ravens capered endlessly, trying to steal the spotlight. They had none of the reservation of the falcons. One even perched shamelessly on the boy’s shoulder, trying to distract him so the others could steal from his basket!
Zongor clicked her beak, appalled at the congenial corvids. How did they all share a roost? All those proud, territorial birds gathered in one place. There ought to be nothing left of that aviary but feathers and blood. Perhaps a lone survivor, pecked half dead and missing an eye. Zongor would have thought they were ensorcelled, but she’d seen those with their wills broken by sorcery. These birds were far too lively to be bewitched.
As she pondered the strange situation, the fourth raptor flew in, just ahead of the rain, and her breath caught. He was a red brown gyrfalcon, already large for a male, but not yet fully grown. His banding was incomplete, but she could see it would be glorious. In the aviary lights, he seemed to have a golden sheen around him. How sharp his eyes looked, how proudly he held his head!
The other birds all chattered with acclaim for his return. Tied to his left talon was a small copper tube. Deftly, the bird bent and undid the leather thong with his beak, presenting the tube to the wizard. Charlot clapped his hands with delight and spoke with the gyrfalcon at length. She could see the whole aviary leaning close to hear his tale. How she wished she could hear them!
When the tale was through, each of the children presented the returning hero with a generous chunk of pike. They said their goodbyes and disappeared through the door. As they departed, the light in the aviary faded away, leaving her peering at the darkness for a last glimpse of the gorgeous hierofalcon.
Behind her eyes, she could feel Ytrios, and she clicked her beak with distaste. She did not want to share this, yet she had no choice. He wanted her to fly over to the island, to spy out more of the wizard’s defenses, but she adamantly refused.
There was no telling how high those wards projected, their complexity far beyond her understanding. Even if she could fly above their reach, if they wanted, those birds could tear her to shreds. She could perhaps take two of the falcons, but certainly not three. She didn’t like the look of that eagle-owl one bit. Small wonder she’d had such a hard time hunting! By themselves, that cast of falcons would have wiped out everything larger than a vole for leagues in any direction.
At last, Ytrios grew bored of staring through her eyes and departed, and she was relieved to be rid of him. The rain never quite made up its mind to fall. Instead, a diffuse mist drifted on the breeze, beading uncomfortably on her feathers.
Zongor squinted in the direction of the aviary, but all was obscured by fog. How comfortable the wizard’s birds must be on their roosts, out of this accursed chill! She’d seen neither hoods nor chains in the aviary. Could he really let his birds come and go as they pleased?
With a chitter of discontent, she fluffed her feathers for warmth and tried to rest. It was a long time before she could fall asleep.
* * *
“Wake,” commanded the magician.
It seemed she’d closed her eyes just a moment before. Yet, she could feel hours had elapsed. Why was Ytrios waking her in the dead of the night? Zongor squeezed her eyelids tighter, knowing it was in vain. Ytrios would nag her incessantly until she woke. But blessedly, he did not repeat himself. It was out of character, but she was simply too weary to pursue the thought.
She slipped back into sleep, her talons tightening on the slick branch beneath her. She flew beneath the cool shadow of an enormous black cloud, sailing deeper into its wonderful darkness. But there was a rumbling in the distance, the pervasive feeling that something was wrong. Understanding shot across her mind like lightning, and her eyes shot open.
That was not Ytrios!
Zongor squawked in alarm, and her heart was in a panic, thundering twenty times a second. Her mind howled for escape, but her body would not listen, her talons were locked. When she tried to beat her wings, there was no response. This was the end, the final cataplexy before death!
As she cast about for the source of the voice, her eyes locked on the glinting moon, but it was far too small. When she could make sense of the situation, she saw it was only a tiny dot of silver inlaid on a turquoise band. The ring from the dream! Her eyes followed the line of the upraised finger to the face of its forger.
Charlot! The ancient wizard stared at her from a wing’s length away! A hundred feet above the earth, the master arcanist hung in the air as steady as if he stood on granite.
YTRIOS!
Zongor howled inside for aid, but there was no reply from her master. For the first time in decades, she felt his absence. The binding between them had been severed! The flying wizard gave a curt nod, as if he could read her thoughts.
“I would talk with you alone. You may leave us, Razian” the wizard said, his voice as steady as his flight. A hoot of agreement came from two trees away as the eagle-owl took wing. Small wonder she’d been found out! She should have known better than to roost so close to the tower.
Charlot invoked a cantrip, and a silver spark glowed a few feet above them, slowly gaining strength until they were both illuminated in pearly light.
He was close enough that she could try for a shot at his eyes, if only she could move! Charlot stared at her for a few more beats. She had the uncanny feeling he could read her mind.
He snapped his fingers, and the pressure gripping her dissipated. Another bird might have fled, but she knew better. This was how Ytrios taunted his slaves, offering them the illusion of freedom, then crushing them under his boot. Instead, she stared back at him with her head high, as if she were unafraid. She waited to see what the wizard would do.
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“Wise bird. You’re smarter than the one who is using you,” Charlot offered.
How dare he try to flatter her! She saw that he could speak Wyrth with an almost native fluency. Through timing and shifts of expression, he could use the stony and immutable words of the barbarous tongue to convey subtle concepts. Seeing he would hold the upper hand in Wyrth, she switched to Yarlee, a far better language for a bird.
“He has seen all! Your tower, the children! If you destroy me, he will enact a terrible revenge! Set me free!” Zongor’s voice was shrill. It was a weak threat, and they both knew it.
“You are already free,” Charlot noted, switching easily to the high and melodious tongue of Yarlsbeth. “Fly away if you wish. I will not harm you. But I think you should hear me out first. One universality I’ve found among birds, as gloriously varied as you may be, you are all terrible negotiators. If I wished to destroy you, you must concede I could have done it already, no?”
Zongor made no move, wary of a trap. Charlot shrugged and continued.
“Yet, instead, I will let you go. It’s not the first time, either. I could have ended you when you trespassed in my dream. I do not care what you report back to Ytrios, for I do not fear him.”
“Then, you are a fool! His power is immense!”
“So is a bear’s strength compared to a falcon’s. But what good is strength if he is on the ground and you are on the wing? In the Art, mastery triumphs over brute power, time and time again. Why do you think Ytrios has kept you on my trail for days on end without rest or time to hunt? He’s terrified, and for good reason. He cannot attack me here in my stronghold. But the reverse is not true. I will find him and destroy him.”
Charlot’s words struck home, the old man a persuasive speaker.
“I’ll tell you another thing. He has not tried to re-establish your link. Perhaps he is afraid to match wits with me but, more likely, he simply hasn’t noticed you’re gone. Pure incompetence. Look here,” Charlot said, and he held up his other hand. He wore Ytrios’ ring! She smelled the ties to Yala upon it. Somehow, he was alive and unburnt when he should have been rotting in one of Ytrios’ cells.
“I can break any binding he has set. Which brings me to my offer,” Charlot said. “Would you like to be freed of your bondage?”
Zongor blinked in surprise.
“A familiar’s bond cannot be broken!” she said.
“So I’ve heard. And perhaps, if you were a familiar, that would be true. But I suspect the arrangement between you two is somewhat less one of an arcane familiar where two beings are joined into a greater whole and more that you are his slave.”
“I AM NO SLAVE!” Zongor shrieked, flapping her wings in anger. The urge to sink her beak into those supercilious gray eyes was nearly irresistible. Yet, he showed no sign of fear, and it made her wary.
“No? Can you go where you please? Can you eat what you want? What do you get for all your hard work besides the gaudy mark of a second-rate magician on your breast?”
“I serve a great magus! It is an honor!” Zongor protested, but the words sounded hollow even as they left her beak. Another might have leapt on that point, but Charlot merely looked at her, letting her arrive at her own conclusion. How different he was from Ytrios!
“Fine, then! Call me a slave while you scheme to have me trade his chains for yours!” she hissed with a bitter lump of uncertainty in her empty stomach. If only she weren’t so hungry! It would be far easier to refute the old wizard.
The wizard flew closer to the trunk and sat on her branch. Slowly, he let his weight settle onto it, nodding when he saw it was stout enough to bear both of them. Again, he was close enough that she could attack him if she wished, but he seemed unconcerned. The silver light burned on. From this angle, it cast a deeper shadow on the crevices of his face. How old he was! He pointed to his tower.
“Did you see any chains in my aviary? My birds are all free. They may leave at any time.”
Zongor clicked her beak in disdain.
“Yet, they are pigeons, carrying your messages to and fro! No falcon would do such mundane tasks if not forced!”
“There’s nothing mundane about my tasks, and no pigeon could perform them. My falcons have seen every corner of the Arc! They can fly anywhere without fear, my protection with them always. I would never send them on a suicide mission like the one you’re on. They are my friends.”
Zongor turned her head sideways in disbelief.
“This is all a farce! You merely put on a show to gull me into taking your pact! All the food you left me, it’s all meant to ensnare me!”
“I do not make such pacts, excepting the sïthur, where it is necessity. I abhor compulsion. You were shadowing me long before I spotted you. Did you see any evidence of slavery among my companions? I saved the lives of both the wolf and the bear. Why did Ytrios send you here? Because I freed another of his slaves. I will do the same for you, if you wish it.”
“Why would you help me?”
“Three reasons. First, because it will weaken my adversary. Second, I was once a prisoner, I abhor captivity and always will. Thirdly, because you are a splendid bird and should not be beholden to a pretender.”
More flattery! It had to be a trap. Yet, as she grappled with what he had said, she found she could not deny his arguments.
“What if I refuse?”
“After Ytrios is destroyed, you will be freed from him if you survive. I hope you will be spared in that conflict, but I suspect he will expend everyone around him in a vain attempt to save himself.”
Zongor drew back. He certainly would! The world whirled around her. She had been Ytrios’ bird for so long she had stopped thinking things could be any other way. She had taken for granted the shadow behind her eyes, the nagging in her ears. How long had it been since she could go where she wished, do as she pleased for more than a few hours at a time?
There was a horrid, shrinking feeling. She could not remember! Was that Ytrios’ doing or simply the passage of time? Once she must have been free, but now the thought filled her with dread. Charlot’s gray eyes were upon her. Half-blind, the old man still saw far too much.
“What has he done to me?” she lamented, and she saw pity in the old man’s eyes. She shut her eyes, tucked her head against her breast in suffering and plummeted in place. It was a long time before the wizard spoke. Despair made his words seem distant.
“Nothing that time cannot undo, though it will a long recovery. You must learn to be yourself again.”
“How can you know what it means to be a slave?” Zongor protested. The word was heavy in her mouth, a weight that threatened to drag her to the earth.
“I know,” Charlot said. There was pain buried in his voice. Faded by decades, the scar still remained. Now, she knew this was no act. His offer was true, if she had the courage to take it.
They had been speaking for a long time. The clouds had broken up and the night retreated from dawn’s advance upon the east. She stared out at the horizon. Weary as she was, she wanted the sun, wanted to be delivered from the darkness around her.
Charlot turned to the light. She looked at his unfocused stare, the feeble eyes of a man who could see so little compared to her own. She did not have to take his deal. She could take wing and leave him here on this branch. She was sure he would not stop her.
Zongor straightened her head and puffed up her breast. That was what a coward would do, flee into the arms of the tyrant. Uncertainty whirled around her like a storm, but she’d found its heart. She was resolved.
“Release me, wizard! I shall be a slave no more!” Zongor cried as she flapped her wings, feeling an urge to get ahead of the fear welling all around her as she made the choice.
Charlot spoke three runes.
You are released.
The tips of her feathers tingled as if lightning were about to strike, and the air was full of black motes, drifting away like cinders from a fire. At once, she knew the link to Ytrios was truly severed, for the world had no weight.
Without thought, she leapt from her perch, beating her wings with all her might to climb. The sun broke over the horizon as she ascended, bathing her in gold. She climbed to an incredible height and swept her eyes below as she soared. It was a new world beneath her. There were no more orders, no more masters. She could go anywhere!
Her eyes fixed on something drifting in the river below and she stooped into a dive. For a few brief seconds, she was the fastest creature alive. There was only an instant of recognition as the mallard below her sensed his doom descending, but he was far too late.
In an explosion of feathers she took him. Lifting her kill to the riverbank, she mantled with her wings as she stripped the duck to the bone. Blood ran over her tongue like the words of a song. She raised her head, tasting the first kill of the dawn.
At last, she was sated!
As she cleaned the feast from her plumage, she looked at her breast. The mark of Ytrios was gone! Her emotions were a confusing mélange. Once, she’d been so proud to bear that mark. Now, she was new again, fully herself, but the joy was not complete.
She had broken her pact, broken her word, but she had never agreed to be a slave, to be whipped across the landscape like a broken down nag. Already, she could feel it would be a long time before the matter was settled within her.
Movement caught her eye. Nearly a mile down the river, a robed figure glided through the air. The wizard! Her heart raced. What if it had all been a ruse?
She was prepared to run, but there was no need. Charlot was not looking for her. He drifted toward his tower in no particular hurry. Beneath those wild eyebrows, she could see his eyelids were heavy. She watched the hand with the turquoise ring cover his mouth as he yawned.
He’d truly freed her! She ought to fly to him and offer thanks, but she would not risk it. Surely all wizards were not as volatile as Ytrios, but why gamble? Perhaps she would return to this tower later, when she’d had her fill of flying wild and free. Maybe she would see what that hierofalcon looked like when he was fully grown…
She shook the thought from her head. She’d only just slipped one snare, she needn’t search for another!
Zongor spread her wings and climbed high into the sky. When it was all far below her, she flew north, toward the great mountains where no man could follow her.