“They’re too big to be falcons-they’re bigger than hawks, bigger than golden eagles. “They can’t be falcons.” Betty’s little white twins, usually either capering, suckling, or sleeping, now huddled mute beneath their mother’s round belly. Jennsen finally crouched to comfort her brown goat, Betty, pressing up against her skirts. Richard cast the pebbles back down the hardpan trail.
“Last couple of years…” Jennsen wondered aloud.Īlmost against her will, Kahlan found herself recalling the stories they’d heard, the rumors, the whispered assertions. Everyone agrees, though, that they never saw the races before then.” People we’ve spoken with say they began appearing only in the last year or two, depending on who’s telling the story. “I’d never seen them before, either, until I came down here. “I’ve often watched hawks and falcons and such,” she said at last, “but I’ve never seen any birds of prey that hunt at night, other than owls-and these aren’t owls.”Īs Richard watched the races, he idly gathered small pebbles from the crumbling jut of rock beside him, rattling them in a loose fist. Jennsen, standing to the far side of Richard, watched in astonishment. As dark as those mountains, as implacable, as perilous, the flight of five pursued the departing light. The searing heat, though, had not been the worst of it.īeyond those desolate lowlands, the dying light silhouetted a remote rim of mountains, making them look as if they had been charred black by the furnace of the underworld itself. That brother now lay a hard day’s travel to the west in a place so naked to the burning sun that few people ever ventured there. Kahlan expected that as Richard watched them he was thinking of the half brother that until just recently he hadn’t known existed. One, wings stretched wide, let out a piercing scream as it banked into a tight gliding turn, circling once in assessment of the five people below before stroking its powerful wings to catch its departing comrades in their swift journey west. Just then, two more of the huge birds shot by right overhead. In the gathering gloom of dusk, his familiar tall, powerful contour seemed as if it were no more than an apparition made of shadows. A last fleeting glimmer of amber light played across his golden cape as he let the sword drop back in place. Lightly grasping the silver pommel with two fingers, Richard lifted his sword a few inches, checking that it was clear in its scabbard. Kahlan briefly scanned the dark jumble of rock, but she didn’t see any others. He g estured over his shoulder without turning to look. That was what he’d been watching as the rest of them waited in uneasy silence. “You knew they were there, didn’t you?” Kahlan asked in a hushed tone as she leaned closer.Īgainst the darkening sky, she could just make out the shapes of three black-tipped races taking to wing, beginning their nightly hunt. To Tom Doherty, always a champion in the struggle of good against evil If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify the publisher at: us./piracy. You may not copy, reproduce or upload this e-book, other than to read it on one of your personal devices.Ĭopyright infringement is against the law. You may not print or post this e-book, or make this e-book publicly available in any way. This e-book is for your personal use only.
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