The Eye of the Falcon by Michelle Paver Read Free Book Online Page A

brandishing weapons, they glared at each other.
    â€œThis is stupid !” panted Hylas. “There’s enough for both of us!”
    The Keftian scowled and shook his pitchfork. For all he knew, Hylas was threatening to gut him like a pig.
    With his knife, Hylas pointed at a pig leg, then at his own chest. “That one for me and that one”—he pointed at the other—“for you.”
    With a snarl, the Keftian stood his ground.
    To prove his good faith, Hylas tossed over his waterskin. “Have a drink. It’s milk.” He uttered ug-ug noises, then pulled imaginary teats, made the ffft-ffft sound of milk hitting a pail, and bleated like a goat.
    Fear and hunger warred in the Keftian’s face. Without taking his eyes off Hylas, he snatched the waterskin and sniffed. He took a gulp.
    â€œ Ug-ug ,” urged Hylas as he slowly sheathed his knife.
    The Keftian set down the waterskin and stared at him.
    Hylas laid his axe on the floor, then raised his hands, palms outward. “See? No weapons.”
    A long, taut silence. Still with his eyes on Hylas, the Keftian propped his pitchfork against the wall. Then he put his fist to his forehead, bowed—and broke into a grin.
    Some time later, after they’d eaten their fill and made rope slings to carry their pig’s legs, Hylas and the Keftian went outside and gazed at the mountains.
    Keftian mountains were nothing like the ones where Hylas had grown up. Lykonian mountains were jagged, but Keftian peaks were rounded; they made Hylas think of gods lying on their backs and staring at the sky.
    â€œ Dikti ,” said the Keftian, pointing at the top of the highest mountain. “ Taka Zimi, Dikti .”
    â€œThat’s the mountain’s name?” said Hylas. “Dikti?”
    The Keftian nodded. “ Taka Zimi. Dikti .”
    Hylas put his fist to his forehead and bowed. “Thank you.”
    The Keftian indicated that he intended to stay in the farmhouse, and after more bowing, Hylas headed off.
    He hadn’t gone far when the Keftian called to him again. “ Rauko! ” he shouted. Then he stamped one foot, raised both outstretched arms to his ears, and pointed forward. “ Rauko, rauko! ”
    Puzzled, Hylas shook his head. What do you mean ?
    The Keftian did it again. When Hylas still didn’t understand, the Keftian gave up and bowed. That looked suspiciously like Good luck, you’re going to need it —and as Hylas headed for the mountains, he sensed that he’d been given a warning.
    They say there’s Plague up that way, Gorgo had told him, and some monster stalking the forest .
    Was that what the Keftian had been trying to tell him? Beware of monsters ?

    Hylas encountered no monsters, but as he climbed higher, every hut and farmhouse bore the marks of Plague.
    He wondered if Pirra had been with her mother when she’d died. Pirra had hated her mother, but how would she feel now? Hylas had never known his own mother, who’d left him and Issi on Mount Lykas when they were little, and he’d envied Pirra hers. She’d always found that hard to understand.
    He found a trail that followed a stream up a gully, and came to a grove of ash-crusted olive trees. Near one, he found a muddy wallow, and at about the height of his head, a patch of bark rubbed off the trunk. What creature had done this? A bear would have left claw marks, but there were none. A deer? Hylas didn’t know any that big.
    A monster?
    At the head of the gully, he made out a derelict farm: a dung heap, a stone cistern, a mud-brick hut. From thirty paces, the white handprint on the door of the hut shouted “Plague.”
    But the stream looked clear, and its banks were thick with willows; Hylas even spotted a few patches of green grass. It was such a relief to see green after the endless gray that he took this as a good omen, and kneeled to refill his waterskin.
    He stiffened. Beside his knee was a hoof