Galdoni (Book One)

GALDONI 

Book 1 

By Cheree L. Alsop 

Copyright  2011 by Cheree L. Alsop 

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.  

Cover Design by Andy Hair 

www.ChereeAlsop.com  

Chapter One 

Free. The word burned in my mind. Above, Galdoni flew in pairs and trios past the sky-rise buildings. I fought back the urge to fly with them; it was better to have the stable ground under my feet after the world had just turned on end. 

I flexed my wings, then tucked them tight against my back so they would be less obvious to the casual observer. A mob of humans bearing signs ringed the main gate through which most of the Galdoni left; luckily, it was publicity they sought and none of the protesters bothered with the few smaller gates like the one I used. 

I looked back at the gray stone building in which I had lived my entire life. I felt a dull taint of fear and pushed it away, surprised that the emotion had survived my training. I gritted my teeth and stepped into the alley.  

The fading sunlight didn't reach the shadows that clung to the walls and refuse. I stepped around an overflowing garbage bin. The scurry of tiny claws sounded against the cement; bigger footsteps echoed it, and a tiny shriek choked off to leave the air a bit colder.  

As I made my way through the debris-littered darkness, I began to second-guess my decision to walk, but there wasn't enough room to spread my wings between the claustrophobic walls. A rusted fire escape hung crookedly down the side of one condemned building. I set a foot on the bottom rung with the thought of climbing to the top of the building so I could fly. I had just put my weight on the rung when a yell came from further down the alley. A dull thud followed. 

"No, please!" A cry close to a sob preceded another thud. 

I took a step closer to the end of the alley; it turned to the left out of sight. There was another shriek, this one full of pain. I ran toward the sound. Adrenaline pounded through my veins as I rounded the corner. I stopped short in shock. 

Three men stood around a cowering boy; a fourth man leaned against the wall with a gleam of amusement in his eyes. He toyed with something dark in his hands and nodded at one of the others. The man lifted what looked like a table leg. The boy shrank away from him, his hands raised to protect his already bruised and bloody face. When he turned, my heart slowed. Brown and white feathered wings, battered and dirty, hung from his beaten shoulders. Clumps of feathers littered the alleyway. 

My gut clenched. "Stop!" My feet moved before I knew what I was going to do. 

All four men turned and the boy shrank back against the grimy bricks of the dead-end. "Mind your own business," the furthest man spat. He pushed off from the wall, his gaze narrowing. Anticipation coursed through my veins at the promise of an opponent. Instinct took over and I sized him up without breaking stride.  

He stood at five-nine, an inch shorter than me; his frame was sparse and he walked with a swagger that told more of boast than fighting experience. The other three glanced from me back to him, awaiting orders. I wondered why they followed him because two of the three towered over six feet and the third looked like he could bench-press a bull; but still they waited for his word to take action.