Sarabande: River of Falcons Book 4

11. Low Tide

In the delta, the river widened and met a host of sandbars that were awash with foaming white ocean waves. Here Jasper's heron flapped to the front of the little flock and he said in Falconspeak (since it is virtually impossible to speak in any other language when in the form of a bird), "Demonstrabo viam. Nos ver ad Graminis de Grande Mare," and so forth, the meaning being, roughly, "I will show you the way. We need to land in the Great Salt Marsh and walk from there, or else they will see us." Then he turned toward the west and led them over a broad area of salt grass broken only by the occasional hummock of a little tree-covered island.

They landed on a rocky island, beneath the protective branches of a huge old oak tree. "This was once a seaport," Jasper said, pointing around them. "The sea has risen and turned most of it to marsh, but you can find stone foundations where there used to be buildings."

"It smells like sulfur," June complained. "Sorcery?"

"No, it's just how the marsh smells at low tide," Jasper said. "Let's walk around to the other side of this oak. You'll be able to see them from there. See that? They've got several of those towers set up along the shore. And boats, too. Magus is trying to create some sort of triangulation of forces using the towers along with one of the boats, which is carrying a wooden board with runes carved on it."

Drift eyed the scene with interest. The low shoreline of the marsh met the sea in the distance, and she could see several roughly built structures standing up out of the marsh next to the shore. She could also see the canvas sails of the boat. It was bobbing up and down in the waves. She did not envy whoever was having to sail it. "What are the runes?" she asked Jasper.

"I'm not exactly sure," he said. "I was never able to get a good look at— Watch out!"

A huge dark-winged vulture was soaring overhead. Drift spotted it a moment after Jasper had, and she recognized it at once as Nautilus, who took the form of a Condor. A half-dozen smaller vultures were following her. The flock flew straight over, unaware that Drift, June and Jasper were hiding down below. As the vultures reached the shore, they glided to a landing near one of the makeshift towers, where they were met by a dozen dark-cloaked figures.

"You warned me that Nautilus and her inner circle were working with the sorcerers," June commented. "But it's still a shock to see them together like that. How many do they make in total? They must outnumber us by at least three to one."

Drift shook her head. "More like six to one, I'd say. There are only three of us, and I count nearly twenty people down there."

"I meant in total," June said, "not just here. How badly outnumbered would we be if they were to attack the Palace? We're so few in number."

"With all their apprentices and guards? More like ten to one," Drift replied, "but they aren't going to attack today. What's that?"

A strange chanting had arisen, carried toward them on the sea breeze.

"An invocation of some kind," June said.

"What spirits are they invoking?" Jasper asked.

"It might not be spirits," Drift said as she listened. "They might be a calling some creature. Huh. Whatever it is, it sprays a lot of water. Could it really be...?"

"Yes, it's whales," Jasper said. "Will you look at that!"

The spouting of whales seemed to be converging on the boat. Then all was quiet for some time. Finally the spouting started again in a ring around the boat.

"They must be sending them down to the wreck," June said. "I wonder how they're commanding them?"

"We better go see," Drift said. "Maybe we can interfere with their spells somehow. Come on." She shimmered into the form of a Great Blue Heron once again.