The Girl and The Falcon

Prologue

Just after two in the morning, as the clock tower tolled through the muffling fog, a thin bolt of blue slashed through the air and created a seven-foot tear in the sky of pulsing, humming current. A young woman reached through the sparking blue electricity and pulled the doorway apart like thin curtains. She stumbled out of the doorway’s black void and onto the sidewalk, steadying herself as she clutched her stomach.

            “Well that sucked,” she muttered.

            The girl took a deep breath and pressed her trembling hands to her cheeks. She glanced quickly up and down the street, her dark brown eyes adjusting to the bright lamplight. If the girl hadn’t just stepped out from another dimension, she might have been mistaken for a local college student. Her smooth black hair curved under her chin in the front, accented by one silver earring dangling from her left ear. Her long dark purple sweater was tied tight at the waist, her black pants tucked into knee-high boots. She pulled out a small bronze pocket watch. Right on time.

            The girl looked back through the doorway, into the darkness. No you can’t come, she thought, you’ll get us both killed. But the small blackbird flew out of the electric doorway and onto the girl’s shoulder anyway. Fine. She said. I just hope he doesn’t wake up.

            She took in the dim glow of the streetlights, the brick and glass structures, the refuse plastered to the dirty roads. A gust of wind sent leaves and paper cartwheeling over the sidewalk; a plastic yellow wrapper stuck to the toe of her black leather boot.

            This is worse than East Aynar, she thought as she shook the wrapper off her foot. She crossed the road quickly, avoiding the two approaching bright lights. When the fast-moving vehicle made a loud noise, the blackbird flapped his wings and flew up into the air, then quickly swooped down to her shoulder again.

The girl inhaled deeply and shook her head. Her eyes swept the wall near the store she’d been searching for, taking in the clumps of homeless men and women wrapped in layers of ragged clothing and torn plastic bags.

            Do you see him? She asked the blackbird as they walked by the different people: an old woman with a nest of white hair and an arm thrown over her eyes; a middle-aged man with his stubbly chin tucked into the neck of his jacket. And then, there he was, the young man they were searching for. He’d propped himself against a concrete corner, his hair a mess of dirty blonde, a thin scar etched across his right cheek.

            She reached a hand out to the young man’s face, then stopped, her normally masked face crumpled with emotion. He looks worse than I expected.Do you think we could send him help somehow?

            You know what you’re here to do, the blackbird said. So do it.

            It’s just that it’s so cold…

            The blackbird flew over to the wall. Give him the Stone now.

            Fine. The girl sighed and reached a hand inside her sweater, now covered with a thin layer of mist. She pulled out a leather pouch, dyed red with golberry, and tugged at the long black drawstring. She stood for a moment trying to figure out a way to slip the cord over the young homeless man’s head without waking him up, but he smelled so strongly of alcohol that she decided she didn’t have to worry. She gently lifted his head from the concrete wall, slipped the black cord around his neck, and tucked the pouch underneath his jacket.

            This is insane, isn’t it? The girl stepped back and surveyed the sleeping man. It’s so weird to see him in person. She ran her hands over her sweater. What does he say about me?

When the sleeping man grumbled and moved his eyes under their lids, the girl leapt to the side with a practiced agility and pressed her slim body against the adjacent wall. The homeless man stayed asleep, so she crouched next to him once more. She wanted to give him a hot drink or some food, but knew she couldn’t.

That was too close, said the blackbird. You’re already going to be in enough trouble with Temryn.

You don’t have to remind me. The girl shook her head and shivered as she crossed the street, looking around to make sure no one saw her. This place feels dead, she said. Let’s go home.

She stood before the crack of sky that marked the entrance into their world. Do you think he’ll know what to do with it?

            Depends on the visions you send. The blackbird shifted his weight from one foot to the other and preened his feathers. But you can do it.

            And you think she’ll accept it?

            She’ll have to, the blackbird said. Or we’re doomed.

            The girl looked at the blackbird on her shoulder, her face grim. Well, you’re a ray of sunshine, aren’t you? She sighed. Then she stepped between the two blue lines and put her hands up near the top, preparing to close it.

            I’m glad you came, she said. I might have woken him up. 

            The blackbird glanced at the girl. You could have died.

            She looked away. I know.

            Then she reached her hand above her and swept it down, erasing the electric blue line and sealing off the world behind them.