Mother above, I pray. We don’t stand a chance now. We need to hide and wait for it to pass, and just hope it hasn’t seen us. Peeking from around my rock, I see that Vaeril has gone further ahead, not realising I’ve stopped.
“Vaeril,” I hiss. Most humans wouldn’t be able to hear me, but I hope with his superior hearing that he will. My guess is right. He stops and turns to face me with a frown, but seeing my expression, he hurries over to me, jumping over boulders as big as the fountains back at the castle with ease.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, as soon as he reaches my side, barely out of breath and not a hair out of place despite the fact he just sprinted here. Me, on the other hand, I’m panting, my heart in my throat.
“We’re being tracked.”
His expression sharpens as he looks around us for the threat, peering past the rock to the expanse of land behind us. We’re quiet for a few seconds as I try to catch my breath and he continues to search.
“I can’t see anyone.” I’m expecting to hear frustration at me slowing him down, but instead he sounds confused and looks at me to explain further. He’s trusting what I’m saying, even though he can’t see any evidence to back up my claim.
I point up to where the bird is still scanning the area, its distinctive cry making me wince.
“It’s a bird,” he comments, as he tilts his head to examine it further. I place my hand on his arm and pull him back behind the shelter of the rock. His head instantly snaps down to where our skin is touching before he looks up to meet my eyes.
“It’s not just a bird,” I explain, urging him to understand. “It’s a tracking falcon.”
“What are you saying?” he questions with a shake of his head, and I growl in frustration.
“Before I was moved to work at the castle, I was a farm slave. The farm I worked at was a falcon breeding centre. They aren’t normal birds,” I hiss, my frustration not really aimed at him, but at the fact we might have been caught so early into our escape. “They are stronger and faster than normal birds, they are intelligent, and they almost never lose a target. See that green band on its ankle?” Vaeril leans out silently to peer at the bird again, and after a moment, he looks back at me and nods. “It’s magicked. When the bird finds its target, it records everything and sends the location to its handler.” Vaeril seems to understand the gravity of the situation now, his eyes narrowing. “If it finds us, we will never be free of it.”
He’s silent, and the only sounds I can hear are the crashing waves at the bottom of the cliffs and the plaintive cry of the falcon.
“Can it fly in the woods?”
I think back to my time at the farm, shuddering at the memories. I remember that being one of their weaknesses, they need large, flat areas to hunt. That’s never been a problem for them, though, as no one has ever got past the flat lands to the forest beyond.
“No, they’re too large. But we’ll never get there before it attacks or before they find us,” I respond, my body starting to shake from the cold for having stood still for too long. At least, that’s what I’m blaming the shaking on. The guards would be travelling on horseback, and Arhavian horses are some of the fastest in the land, they would catch up to us in no time.
A thought comes to me as I remember our escape. “Could you use your magic, the shield you used last night?”
“No, I can’t reach my magic here.” He goes silent for a moment. “How do the tracker bands work?” He’s still watching the bird above us, which is circling the area now. It may not have found us yet, but it knows something is hiding in these rocks.
It’s waiting us out, I realise, before taking a deep breath to answer the question.
“They have to be activated. The magic band is coded to the people it’s trying to find. The bird will attack, and when blood hits the band, it activates.”
He nods as if I’ve confirmed something for him and he takes a step towards me, his expression serious, but there is an excited energy about him that makes me nervous. “I have a plan.”