PROLOGUE

With a loud thump she landed on the earth, and broke out into a run. Her feet dashed silently across the ground, making as little noise as possible. The searchlights in the watchtowers suddenly spun around to shine down into the dark jungle. A strident crack came from the distance, followed by muffled cries and the clanking of armor mail, and the barking of search dogs.

She hopped on silent feet and jumped through the foliage, not daring to look back. It was only a matter of time before they found out where she was. That was why she needed to move quickly. Mud splattered beneath her, she didn’t care about the deep footprints she was leaving in the shallow muck; it was all part of her plan.

As the shouting of the seekers grew louder, she stopped beneath a large tree. Her tracks lead into a bush. Looking back briefly, she grabbed her bow and pulled a small piece of cloth from her satchel. Retrieving an arrow from he quiver, she pierced the cloth upon the arrowhead and strung the bow. Aiming beyond the rows of trees, to a solid surface, which might be hundreds of feet away, she shot the arrow, which flew through the air like a silent bird of prey.

Not waiting to hear the confirming impact of the arrow, she turned to the tree and jumped, her legs propelling her inhumanly high into the air. She landed upon one of the branches, grabbing ahold of the slippery surface. She climbed higher, as the seekers drew near.

The barking of dogs erupted with the cries of men, and the bright light of a lantern illuminated the dark woods. They stopped beneath the tree, barking orders at one another in a Darkish tongue. The dogs sniffed the area, and quickly turned their attention to something in the distance, in the direction that she had fired the arrow.

She watched silently from her perch, as the seekers did just as she had expected. The dogs lead them away, towards the strong scent that the arrow was producing. Waiting until the noise was distant enough, she jumped down from the tree and ran in the other direction. The scent of Parthanor would keep the dogs far from her for a while.

Dashing through the wet undergrowth of the jungle, she carefully navigated the dark muddle. She had attempted escape before, always a different route. She had never been this way before, but she had memorized the maps. And if her memory served her correct, the Thalma River should be right…

There. The earth terminated into a wide, flowing stream, rich with plant life and clear, blue water. She slowly descended into the creek. It would be unwise to travel down the river, as the Torwa had sentinels posted every hundred meters and at every branch. No, she would need to cross to the other side, into Elaso country, where freedom was only a few miles away.

She carefully stepped down the slick slopes of the river’s edge. The trees on either side were spaced too far apart for her to jump, so she would need to cross the river through other means.

Trekking as deep into the water without falling into danger of being swept away, she braced herself and pulled a small device from her belt. Aiming at one of the trees across the river, she fired the hookshot, which embedded itself into the thick bark. The claws were strong enough to support her weight, so she released the extension. The hookshot yanked her from her feet and pulled her over the river and to the tree where the claw awaited. Looking down, she maneuvered the hookshot’s delicate controls to lower her to the ground.

She heard a noise and stopped. It came from the other side of the tree. Remaining motionless, she waited for it to come again. It didn’t. Brushing off her fears, she lowered herself to the ground. She retrieved the hookshot just as the noise came again, louder. She felt her heart race.

Unsheathing her knife, she silently stepped around the tree, peering over the edge. Several feet away, she saw a bird perched on a rock, tugging at the remains of a small rodent. She gave a sigh of relief. It was only a bird.

Bird or not, she needed to get by. Trying not to disturb the animal, she stepped around the tree and began to walk to the other side. Just as she was beginning to feel reassured, a stick snapped beneath her feet. She froze. The bird looked up from its meal, squawking lightly. She waited, but no noise came. The seekers probably hadn’t traced her here.

More careful than before, she continued towards her freedom. The seekers were still on the other side of the river, and it would be awhile before they found out where she had gone. She couldn’t help but feel proud of herself. This was the first time she’d successfully escaped from Romegarde. In fact, it was the first time anyone had.

Something poked her on the back of her leg. She turned around and saw the bird staring up at her. It chirped loudly. She was beginning to worry that it might attract attention to her position. Choosing to ignore it for the moment, she continued forward. It poked her in the back of her leg again and she turned around. It was still looking up at her, cocking its tawny head from side to side.

The bird was becoming a nuisance. If it didn’t leave, she might have to kill it. Too much was at stake to have it all blown away because of some stupid bird. She fingered her knife.

Suddenly, the bird hopped into the air, wings fluttering lightly. It landed on her arm, claws digging lightly into her skin. She felt stunned. What was that had this bird so attracted to her? She looked at it, at its rusty brown feathers, its jagged beak, its deep red eyes…

Its eyes…

Just as the horrible realization was coming to her, the bird jumped into the air, squawking loudly. Before she had a chance to run, her hands and legs suddenly became bound as if by some magical force, and she dropped to the earth. Already, she could hear the seekers closing in on her position. It was over. She had failed.

The light and growling of the soldiers surrounded her as she lay on her knees. The bird lowered itself to the ground, staring at her with an almost demeaning stare. She glared back. The bird seemed to smile, and it began to morph, growing larger, changing shape.

In a moment, where the bird had once stood there was now a full-grown man, wearing a black cloak and carrying a glowing staff. His bearded face was agrin, and his red eyes stared at her, through her soul. After the longest silence, he spoke, in a voice that could shake a mountain, “You are mine once again, Sirena.”