House of Vultures by Maggie Claire

Author:Maggie Claire [Claire, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, dark fantasy, post apocalyptic, Dystopian, survival stories, social family issues, dragons mythical creatures
Publisher: World Castle Publishing, LLC
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

The song of a lark wakes me as the sweet sound resonates through my makeshift bedroom. The first thing my bleary eyes notice is the rock ceiling a foot from my head. I am outside. I have left the House of Vultures. The events of the previous day flood back to me. Shimmying out of my hiding place, I rush to Panther, hoping he fared as well during the night.

“‘Bout time, Mynah,” he mutters as I uncover the hollow tree where I had left him. “I’ve been awake for an hour needing to take a—”

“I don’t need to know the details,” I interject as I pull him out of the trunk, back to standing on solid ground. Spotting a small bush that appears to have fruit on its limbs, I hurry away from Panther. “Do what you need to do, and I’ll get breakfast. Just stay close enough to shout if trouble comes.”

The raspberries stain my hands as my overeager fingers pinch their flesh. The juices dribble down my knuckles, and when I taste it, I groan at the pleasure of its sweetness. My stomach garbles its delight as I scarf down my portion, too hungry to wait for Panther. When I finish, I wander farther away from the River Sangre, letting my mind drift with the water’s rushing murmurs.

A crack of a twig on my left startles me into awareness. Then I hear the distinct sound of footsteps hustling through the brush on my right. Slowly circling, I inspect the forest for any visible signs of danger, but I see nothing. The forest is alive with noises, and I suspect there is communication here that I simply cannot understand. A rattled hiss like that of a large cat, a soft coo like a bird, the clicking beetle’s alarm signals, and many more animalistic noises envelope me. They’re not animal though, I’d bet. The calls are mimicked, mere imitations of the real sound. It’s like they are made with human voices. This far south, it could only mean one of two things: the nameless unchosen or the Minor Houses.

“I’m not here to hurt any of you. I’m just passing through this land.” I announce, feeling foolish for speaking without seeing my intended audience. I raise my hands over my head in a sign of good faith. “I have a few weapons on my person, but I am not drawing them. I am not hunting nameless or the Minor Houses.”

“You’re not alone either,” a female voice answers me from high in the trees. “You failed to share that in your explanations.”

“My travelling companion will follow my wishes. You have nothing to fear from me. I am simply—”

“We’ve heard that before from your kind. There are those among the Major Houses that hunt us despite their well wishes and empty promises. Your words mean nothing to us,” another voice cries, this one a male sitting low to the ground on my left side.

“I cannot atone for actions that are not my own.

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