Drift: River of Falcons Book 1

The Apprentice

Drift hitched Bellis to the wagon while Summer loaded bundles of medicines for trade. It was the day of the full moon in the middle of Culturari, the planting month, so the market would be well attended despite the rain. Summer was eager to get there by midmorning. "Keep your clothes on, my dear," she said with a wry smile as she sat in the wagon, looking down at Drift. "And stay near home. I ought to be back before dinner."

Drift watched her go with a frown. When the wagon had rumbled out of sight, she went out to the barn to feed the goats and geese, getting her sandals wet in the rain. When she came back in, she set them aside and pulled on her kalutas. Then she closed the door to the cottage and stood on the porch, looking at the grey sky above the wet trees. After a while, she nodded and flipped up the hood of her heavy felt cloak, muttered a verse in Falconchant, and stepped into the rain again. It was coming down even harder. She hoped Summer had remembered to speak over the bundles to keep the rain from soaking through.

Drift walked for a long time, following a faint deer-path that led off toward the west. Nobody lived in that direction because the land was too hilly and rocky for farming, but the land was full of wildlife, and she noted a variety of birds and animals as she walked. The rain thinned to a sprinkle, then stopped, but the clouds were thick and dark, scudding overhead, as if it ought still to be raining.

She lost the deer track but found another trail, even fainter, probably made by a fox. Soon she found herself climbing a gradual slope with boulders scattered amongst the trees. A large, flat-topped bolder caught her eye. She scrambled to the top, where she sat down on the smooth, weather-worn surface. She extracted a chunk of seed-bread from her pocket and broke off a piece.

A red-brown squirrel with a bushy tail eyed her from a nearby oak tree. She smiled and spoke its name, Aquerna, then tossed a bit of bread in its direction. It scampered down, ate hurriedly, and rushed back up to the safety of the branches.

A jay called in the distance. A pair of chickadees flitted by, bouncing from tree to tree with excited little chirps. Drift broke off another piece of bread and ate it.

The squirrel came out to the end of an overhanging branch and peered down at her. She smiled and shook her head. "Sorry, the rest is for me." She raised it to her mouth but before she could take a bite, a Black Hawk dove into the oak. As the hawk settled its wings, Drift could see that the squirrel was pinned beneath its sharp talons.

Drift jumped up and waved her arms to scare the hawk away.

It looked at her, blood dripping from its beak, and let go of the squirrel, which rolled off the limb, somersaulted awkwardly down, and hit the ground with a thump. Drift had barely registered this event when the hawk spread its wings and swooped down in front of her. As it landed, it shimmered and flashed into a dark-eyed boy a year or two older than her. He was dressed in faded black leggings, a burlap tunic belted at the waist, and a knee-length black cloak. He looked, she was startled to see, rather like the boy she had recently dreamed about; she wondered if it had been a cautionary dream or warning of some sort.

"Hi," he said with a grin. He seemed amused at her surprise.

Drift, having backed up as far as she could, stood her ground and glared at him from the far side of the boulder. "You must be an apprentice. Are they all as mean as you?"

"Worse." He squinted at her. "Huh! Looks like you should be in training, too. You obviously have power. I'm surprised they haven't caught you already."

"I'll never be an apprentice," Drift spat.

"Of course not," he said, eyeing her narrowly. "How stupid of me. You're the one I'm searching for, aren't you?" He smiled. "Princess," he added as he bent into a bow. "But you look different without your dress," he continued. "And what's under that hood? Is your hair up in a bun?"