The Last Singer (The Falcon Chronicles Book 1) Page 2

  Circe’s unique white and black markings were visible against the fading sky. She gained altitude but circled overhead, waiting. A quick flick of my fingers sent her off hunting.

  As she soared, my heart lifted. I jammed on my glove and leaped onto the nearest boulder, then the next—even higher. The steep climb led to a ridge of granite folds. My secret place where I brought my joys and my sorrows.

  I crouched and clutched my jacket tighter as the chilled mountain breeze dropped the temperature. My light clothing offered little protection against the penetrating cold. Any other time I’d have followed the urge to abandon my rocky perch, but not today.

  From my favorite spot at the top of the world, the drowning sun sent a fan of color into the sky. A ribbon of light rippled toward me across the gray ocean. Below in the tiny harbor, abandoned fishing boats tugged at their moorings as the men trudged home to moss-covered cottages. On the wharf, two mangy dogs growled and wrangled over a discarded fish head. Lights glowed from the cottage where Calia's family lived. It had been my second home for much of my childhood. I'd miss it, and everything else that felt normal and comforting.

  I knew the view by heart, but I wanted—needed—to sear it into my brain. This was my home—until tomorrow. I’d always known the time would come when I’d have to go to Hypor City, but it still felt unexpected, abrupt, and harsh. The thought of spending five years in an enclosed environment, without the sounds of birds, the smell of dewy grass, and the sight of sheltering trees, brought tears to my eyes. Tomorrow everything would change.

  Circe’s screech ripped the silence as she swooped into view. Her furious squawks were accompanied by an odd buzzing—unnatural, but somehow familiar.

  I stood and scanned the sky. Nothing appeared in the gathering dusk. Instinctively, I shut my eyes, allowing my sound sense to follow the buzzing vibration and mentally chart its course. It was approaching. Fast.

  I extended my arm and whistled. Circe descended, but didn’t land. She continued to circle, shrieking fiercely.

  The buzzing grew louder, harsher, grating my ears.

  A strong instinct to hide sent me scrambling down the steep rocky trail toward the cover of the forest. From the lowest rock, I jumped to the ground and then raced into the trees toward an angled jag of granite. I pushed through a hawthorn hedge but Circe’s piercing scream stopped me mid stride. I retraced my steps. Thorns snagged my clothes and hair. I burst into the clearing and searched the sky.

  The raptor floated aloft, her talons extended for battle with an unseen foe.

  Then I saw it. A watcher drone.

  I remembered Jarryd’s description of the ones being built in his lab.

  An inverted bowl propped above three vertical legs that attached to a circular ring. Shaped like a lander, solar tiles covered the surface. Three rotors and several antennas protruded from the lower loop. Employed to patrol and protect the city, Jarryd had said. But why was it here? Ninety miles from Hypor?

  The drone lost altitude, spun, then hovered a few feet above me. It remained stationary as two protrusions emerged from its underside and swiveled toward me. Circe squealed and attacked. I whistled for her to return to me, but she continued her assault. Unable to anticipate the rotors, her feathers flew in all directions. Eventually, she faltered and veered away but the drone gave chase.

  I found a rock to throw but my aim was off. I let out a long, high-pitched yell and stretched my arms helplessly into the air toward it. “Go away! Leave her alone!”

  The drone reeled back as if pushed by an unseen force. End over end, it receded into the darkening sky, finally toppling into the ocean.

  Circe dived toward me.

  I lifted my arm. She landed but continued restlessly clenching and releasing her talons.

  “Are you hurt?” I hummed softly to settle her, then fingered her back and wings, checking for injuries. A few missing feathers but otherwise unharmed.

  “Good girl. You must have damaged it.” I stroked her breast and sighed while she watched with dark fathomless eyes. “That drone makes me even more leery of going to Hypor City tomorrow.”

  I jolted when Jarryd’s voice rent the air.

  “Bryn…na. Bryn…na. Where are you? Dinner's ready.” He emerged into the clearing with his usual easy gait. “Hurry up, I’m hungry.”

  His earlier words still stung, but I couldn’t contain my news. “Guess what I saw up there?” I pointed toward the sky. My gesture sent Circe aloft.

  “What?” Hands on hips, his head cocked to one side. His mouth held its perpetual grin. “You look like you’ve just wrestled a bear.”

  I pulled a thorn from my jacket and brushed back my hair. It wouldn’t make much difference, but I felt better. “You missed it. A drone was right here.” I pointed to the space above my head. “Like the ones you told me about. You must have heard the buzzing on your way here.”

  He scanned the sky. “That’s impossible. They only have a short range. Besides, they’re restricted to the city. Are you sure it wasn’t a bird?”

  Sometimes brothers were just irritating. This was one of them.

  “Birds don't have antennas. It was definitely a drone.” I crossed my arms trying to appear more imposing. It was silly because Jarryd had four inches on me and his muscled build made my slim body puny in comparison.

  He gave me the once over then laughed. “Okay, okay. I believe you.” He glanced up as he shrugged. “Let’s go. Mother’s waiting and I could eat a brick.”

  As he strode away, I gave the heavens one final glance. No drones, just the moon’s full disc commanding the dark sky.

  An icy cold snaked over my skin. The moon was a threat of a different kind. A harbinger of a nightmare I couldn’t escape.

  4

  A Celebration

  Jarryd’s longer strides stretched his lead. Close to home, he slowed, waiting for me to catch up.

  “What’s got you so quiet? Are you still worried about tomorrow?”

  “A little.” I didn’t mention the full moon and my nightmares.

  “You'll soon get used to living in a domed city. I did.”

  My brother had worked as an engineer on Hypor for three years. He came home on work breaks but further travel was restricted. My father rarely spoke about the city and my mother never left our island. Jarryd was my only source of off-island information.

  He patted my shoulder in brotherly fashion. “Follow the rules and you'll be fine. Your supervisor will watch you for a while to make sure you fit, but after that, it's easy.”

  What did he mean by fit? I curbed my worries and focused on his next words.

  “Once you get settled, I'll take you to the recpod. They have a bunch of stuff to do there including rock climbing and an obstacle course. The activities mimic the ones in the games.”

  Rock climbing was Jarryd's thing, but an obstacle course sounded like fun. “What games?”

  “It's called Steepchase. There's a monthly contest—kind of a trial run—and every twelve months there's the final competition. Training is crucial and experience helps. I enter the time trials almost every month. Only those with the best times compete in the final games. The winner of Steepchase can ask for almost any concession, even reduced work duty.”

  “You mean if you win you can leave Hypor City?” I liked the idea.

  “I don’t think anyone has left the city. The winners I’ve heard about opted for promotions and longer work breaks. Besides, Hypor provides for all your needs so there’s no reason why anyone would want to leave.”

  Except if you want freedom, I mumbled to myself.

  “What did you say?”

  “I wonder if females are allowed to participate in the games?” I knew that women had restrictions on Hypor. It was another one of my objections to going. Equality was something I’d taken for granted growing up. Some of the city’s rules were oppressive.

  Jarryd seemed oblivious to the implications of my question when he answered.

  “A woman co
mpeted in the last two games. She was as big as some of the men. She didn’t win, of course. As far as I know, only men have won.”

  I grimaced, but he’d already turned for home.

  “Don’t worry, Bryn. I’ve made some good friends while training. You can too.”

  I hoped that was true. Because Father was a councilor and owned our island, the village children always treated me differently.

  As a child, Calia was my closest friend, but our relationship changed when we became teenagers. My desire was to become a healer like Mother and stay on the island until I could travel. An impossibility, I discovered as I grew older.

  Calia yearned to leave the island. She was certain she was made for bigger things and dreamed of becoming someone important in Hypor City.

  As teenagers, we weren’t as tight, but I still missed her when she left for Hypor three months ago. I hoped to see her. A familiar face would be welcome in a strange city.

  Jarryd continued speaking. “Last year's Steepchase winner was promoted to the Premier’s personal guard. They went to Nuvega.” He spoke the name like it was a precious gem.

  “What's Nuvega?”

  “A friend told me it’s another city, far away and full of excitement—unlike Hypor.”

  “Another city?” I was puzzled. “I didn't know there was another floating city.”

  “It's not on water. It's on another island, much larger than ours. Can you believe it?” His eyes widened.

  “A city on land?” I mirrored his wonder, envisioning a replica of our island, with forests and rocks, green and lush, unlike the metallic domes of Hypor. “I’d love to see that. Maybe if I win Steepchase I could ask to go.”

  “Don't get your hopes up. You have to be really skilled to win Steepchase. It’s a tough game and participants can get hurt.”

  The path split. I veered right.

  Jarryd continued toward home. “Don’t be too long.”

  “I won’t.” I whistled to Circe and headed for the mews.

  Inside, the Father’s falcon nestled into its feathers. Circe’s dark eyes watched me. Could she sense that this would be our last time together? At least for a while.

  While it was comforting to know that Father’s falcon keeper, Roddy, would care for her, the thought of losing her daily companionship pulled at my heart. Our bond was deeper than bird and keeper.

  On the path home, an unlucky chestnut got the brunt of my frustration as I kicked it into the woods. If only there was a way to remain on the island, with Mother and Circe. But I knew it was impossible. Rules were rules, as Father often said, and taking a job in Hypor City at eighteen was one of them.

  My heart took another hit when I reached home.

  The windows glowed with a soft yellow light. A familiar hint of mint wafted from the open door. As I entered, Mother placed steaming bowls of vegetables on the table. Despite her failing sight, she sensed my presence. I basked in the love and warmth of her smile. Something else I’d miss.

  “Happy birthday, my sweet one.” Her hug was warm, her kiss light on my cheek.

  “Oh, I forgot. Happy birthday, Bryn.” Jarryd gave me a one-armed hug. “But why only three plates on the table?”

  “Father said to wish you a happy birthday, Brynna,” said Mother. “Unfortunately, he had to go back to the city. Council business.”

  My father’s absence felt like a slap. My cheeks burned with anger.

  Eighteenth birthdays were an important rite of passage—an entry into adulthood. It hurt that family and friends had enthusiastically celebrated Jarryd’s eighteenth but Father wouldn’t be here for mine. He had even given a short speech at Calia’s small party a few months ago before she left for the city.

  “He’s never around lately. He has time for his falcon but not my birthday.” I didn’t try to disguise the peevish tone in my voice.

  Mother calmed my disappointment by rubbing my shoulders and then guided me to a chair festooned with scarlet ribbons and sprigs of rosemary.

  Jarryd joined me at the table. “Too bad he’s not here. We hoped to ask if he knew about any drone testing.”

  “What drones…what do you mean?” A well-masked vibration of fear hummed through Mother's question.

  “Bryn saw a drone out near the rock fold, or at least says she did.” He heaped potatoes into the last empty spot on his plate, missing the dagger look I threw at him.

  “Are you sure it was a drone?” Mother’s face was inscrutable when she turned to me.

  “Yes, I saw it.” I sent Jarryd another scathing glance, but he remained focused on his food. “And it made the same noise we heard this morning.”

  “What?” Jarryd stabbed a potato but left it dangling on his fork. “You never told me about that.”

  I didn’t appreciate his annoyance, nor understand it. “No need to get angry. I didn’t link the sounds until after we spoke.”

  Jarryd looked from me to Mother and back to me again. “Where were you this morning when you heard it?”

  “In the greenhouse. We couldn’t see anything but we heard the buzzing several times,” I replied.

  Jarryd’s brow furrowed. “Is that true, Mother?”

  I jumped to my feet. “What’s wrong with you? Why would I lie?” I moved to Mother’s side, regretting my words when I saw her wringing her hands. She didn’t like arguments.

  “I’m sorry.” Jarryd flashed a dimpled smile. “It’s just that I can’t understand why drones would be here, so far from Hypor City.”

  Mother accepted his apology but still seemed shaken. “It’s Brynna’s birthday. Let’s forget about drones and eat.” Her worried eyes met my questioning ones.

  I was certain she knew more. She shook her head when I started to speak.

  Intent on his dinner, my brother missed the exchange. “Is there cake?” Nothing affected his appetite.

  I couldn’t hide my smirk and gave a piggy snort as I returned to my seat.

  He sent me the sibling’s ‘I’ll get you for that’ look then laughed.

  “There will be cake but only after Brynna finishes her meal.” Mother’s rule of dinner then dessert was ironclad.

  In the silence, my thoughts returned to the drone. I watched Mother walk to the kitchen. Did she know something? What would cause her to look so worried? My concerned gaze lifted to hers when she returned but she was smiling.

  “Make a wish.” She set the birthday cake on the table in front of me.

  I puffed out the flames. There were only three candles but I smiled in appreciation. I knew she’d made them herself with wax from her beehives.

  “What did you wish for?” prompted Jarryd as he leaned forward. “You can whisper it to me.”

  “Not telling,” I replied. “It’s a secret.”

  While he downed a second helping of cake, I opened my birthday gifts.

  Father's was a rare printed history of Hypor and the Rising. I knew the stories by heart. I’d seen the videos produced by the council describing the melting of the ice caps and the rising seas.

  As the climate warmed, politicians argued interminably about responsibility and strategy, but none could agree. Envisioning an impending tragedy, ten wealthy families formed a consortium and built the floating city of Hypor. The best minds of the age were invited to contribute their knowledge and skills in preparation for what was to come.

  Around the globe, millions lost their lives in the watery onslaught as the seas rose. Salt water devastated the land. Later came unexpected earthquakes and tsunamis, killing many more. It was a time of desolation. Survivors clustered on pockets of higher land. Our small island was all that was left of Father’s family’s extensive land holdings. As one of the ten founding families of Hypor City we survived, as did the floating city.

  The second gift was from Mother. The package contained three ultramarine-blue, hooded, floor-length jubas, and two pairs of black slippers, all beautifully detailed with Mother’s fine needlework. I forced a smile to disguise my disdain. I preferred my u
sual tunic, tights and boots, but jubas were mandatory dress for women in the city.

  After the Rising, the council had a crazy idea about promoting population growth, protecting women, and encouraging them to focus on child rearing and home making. Even now, women were mandated to take jobs that involved home-craft or child care. After completing their work duty, many married, had children and remained on Hypor.

  There were few other employment options for women. Fortunately, my talent for languages, Mother’s careful tutoring and Father’s influence ensured my exemption from traditional women’s jobs. I was assigned a position as a translator, but I still had to wear a juba.

  “Thank you, Mother.” I tried for sincerity. She hadn’t made the silly rule about jubas, although I suspected Father’s ancestors were probably involved in the decision a hundred years ago.

  “Nice dresses.” Jarryd’s toothy grin confirmed his sarcasm.

  I searched my brain for a cutting reply when he pulled a small parcel from his pocket.

  “Now don't get all mushy.” He placed the wrapped packet on the table beside me. “Happy eighteenth, Bryn.”

  The string slipped off easily to reveal an intricately carved obsidian miniature depicting a bird. I could tell by the curve of its beak that it was a falcon. The sculpture sat inside a silver ring that swung from a fine chain. I slipped it over my head and pressed it to my chest. Just when I wanted to be mad at him, he’d done something nice and unexpected.

  “Oh, Jarryd.” I blinked away tears.

  “Something to remind you of home when you're not here.” Emotion welled in his voice but he hid it in a cough.

  “Thank you.” I jumped up and wound my arms around his neck. “You're the best brother.”

  “Okay, okay. Just remember that the next time I tease you.” He laughed off his embarrassment. “Now, since Father's not here, you and Mother can entertain me.” He wasn't musical but loved to hear us sing.