The Flight of the Ravenhawk by J. Edward Hackett

Author:J. Edward Hackett
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ink Smith Publsihing

Chapter 8

“Honestly, Kal, I didn’t know,” Tao urged a second time.

“I believe you.” Kal picked up the arcablade and handed it to Tao. “Thank you for your friendship.” Taking the sword, Tao half-smiled. “And loyalty.”

Tao bowed in silence, and took his place behind the Prince. Tao surrendered his hands, but Sylvara’s guards made no move.

Speaking in elven, Sylvara commanded her retinue to find the king. More guards would be coming now, and it was urgent they speak. Kal placed his hand on Sylvara’s shoulder. She took it and held it. Kalero sighed heavily, and did not speak. Looking up, he could see the spell beacon radiating outward, its circle growing larger in the distance. He had to find out. At best, it would only communicate the memories of the mission collective if they were linked or individually. At worst, it would call in the skyfleet.

Sylvara mouthed, “Go.” Then, as if by reflex, Kalero became the ravenhawk. In his mind, he spoke the true naming and found the form still etched in both memory and in his very essence. For once changed, the changed form stays with the name so changed. Unlike the gifted power of the Ancestral Wood, this power was determined, willful, and defiant. The magick came from without to alter what was within. Outstretched arms became obsidian wings. The darks wings became like folds of dark fabric. The magick echoed and reverberated on the skin. An echoing “caw” permeated the sacred grove. Parting clouds, the ravenhawk saw the expanse of moonlight giving way to the blanket of clouds obscuring its light and warmth. Wind and thermal pockets shot up from the ground, lifting and pushing Kal. Effortlessly, the ravenhawk could feel the tremble of wind, and for a short time, Kal forgot his troubles. In his thoughts, he called forth the might of the spellwind, and like a weather-worker aboard a barge, he sent forward the wind to guide flight, empowering the bird’s speed to enchanted speeds. For several hours, he hurled himself magickally into the night half suspecting another patrol, another squad of elite troops to find him and him alone. Like any hawk, the ravenhawk had tremendous eyesight. Even more, the eyes could penetrate the darkness and even gave light to where none was, a secret known to mages who wish to see in the darkness and take this form.

In the eyes of the ravenhawk, however, Kal found what he did not want to find. On the edge of the horizon and above the forest canopy of these ancient woods, the Allurian Skyfleet. Ten ships, five destroyers, and support vessels flew slowly toward Zalanthas. With a heavy heart, the ravenhawk spun around. Picking his bearing, the ravenhawk entered the mist of clouds, and once again, called the spellwind at his back and made haste to Zalanthas.

That night, when he arrived, he landed on the windowsill of the Librarian. The small man pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose, and hobbled over to him when Kal became man once more.

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