Thornfalcon (The ARC Legacy Book 1)

by Matthew W. Harrill

Chiara turned her head back, facing the ceiling. “Who are you girl, to be present in the company of angels?”

  “My name's Samantha. I'm gonna get you out.”

  Chiara reached into a sewn pouch on her dress, just above where the rubble ended, withdrawing a thin length of what appeared to be twine. “I have a gift for you. To remind you that you're special. Hold out your hand.”

  Samantha did as bidden, expecting the old lady hand her the twine.

  Instead, in what seemed a final effort, Chiara grabbed her wrist in an iron grip, pulling Samantha closer. Chiara then began to hum, a soothing melody like waves lapping at the shore. She wrapped the cord three times, four times about Samantha's wrist, tying it off in such a way that only cutting the cord would remove it.

  Samantha pulled back, staring at the material. It was dark, and appeared to have no weight at all. Golden flecks shone in the light from outside. Raising it close, Samantha smelled lemon and spices on the cord.

  “It's beautiful.”

  “It is Byssus. The soul of the sea. I give it to people that need my help. It brings good fortune to outcasts, people in need. You are such. I pray that you find your fortune, so that all humankind can benefit.”

  “I need help. We're here rescuing people.”

  Chiara took a shallow breath, her eyes remaining closed. For a moment she didn't move. Then her eyes opened a crack and in a whisper she said, “You need this. Before the end you will see the truth.” Chiara turned her head to look at the body of her daughter. “No more will be spun.”

  “No more spun? What do you mean? Chiara?”

  The old lady's face remained frozen in the stare, eyes unblinking.

  “Samantha,” Io said, turning her to him. “She's gone.”

  Chapter Ten

  Samantha sat in silence, the noise of rubble a distant distraction as she held the hand of the old lady who had gifted her as the last gesture of her life. But what did it mean?

  Out of respect, Samantha composed the body, closing Chiara's eyes and placing her hands folded across her lap.

  “She's with her daughter,” Io said. “There's nothing more to be done here.”

  “Who are you?” Samantha wondered aloud. “Those things she said about helping her on.”

  “I do not remember,” Io replied. “Perhaps she just knew it to be her time and was glad not to be alone. To see her granddaughter safe was her last wish in life.”

  “Was it?” Samantha murmured, examining the twine on her wrist. It weighed nothing. The material was so smooth on her skin it nearly disappeared.

  “Sammy,” called Charlotte. “Can we get the injured out now?”

  “There are no injured here. Just the dead. Head wounds and massive internal haemorrhaging if I were to guess.” Sparing one tearful glance for the departed, Samantha wormed her way back through the gap in the rubble to the outside.

  A few steps out, her legs turned to jelly. Samantha collapsed onto the ground, a cloud of dust billowing out either side of her. The sun was rising now, its rays turning the bracelet a radiant golden hue, the sparkles within holding her attention.

  “You okay?” Clare asked.

  About then, the rescue effort intensified, people swarming everywhere through the ruined Dubrovnik streets. Sirens wailed all around.

  “She was ready to die,” Samantha murmured. “She accepted it. But, what happened to the baby?”

  “Local paramedics,” Jim provided. “Look, people appreciate our efforts but they're starting to ask questions; in the daylight, we aren't faceless rescuers in the dark. There's nothing down here to indicate what happened. Be it mountain imps or the weather, we need to get to that mountainside.”

  “I said I'd make sure the baby was looked after,” Samantha protested.

  “And she will be.”

  “Her name is Evangelina.”

  Clare put her arm around Samantha's shoulders. “The little girl is safe. That's all that we can do for now. You've done so much good tonight. You're exhausted. One more stop then you can all get some rest.”

  On an impulse, Samantha said, “We will have an extra passenger.” She pointed at Io, who stood gazing at the sun.

  “I don't think that's a good idea. Who is he? Who is he, really?”

  “I've no idea,” Samantha replied, still mesmerised by the golden bracelet, “but I trust him. He saved my life and found those people by staring at a wall. Doesn't that intrigue you?”

  “Unless you know something I don't, all I see is a man suffering from amnesia who found some people by luck. We can alert the local services to care for him.”

  Samantha folded her arms. “If he stays, I stay. I'm not that enamoured of ARC that I want to go back.”

  “Boss,” Mitch warned, “we're starting to draw attention. It's time for a discreet exit.” He pointed along the boulevard where two men in brown military uniform were talking to some of the survivors.

  “Well, that's gonna get no answers if we're all in jail.”

  “Maybe they will thank you.”

  “Once they find out who we are it's only a matter of time. We move, now. Sammy your stray can come but we drop him off at the first medical that's not filled with military.”

  The team wormed their way through the destroyed city to the pickup point. Carrot was already in the air, unnoticed; the Huey was one of many helicopters circling Dubrovnik. As they gathered, more and more people began to watch them, some pointing, faces angry bordering on hostile. A group of military began to approach as the wind whipped up under the force of a descending helicopter.

  The Huey dropped to a metre above the rubble, hovering as Carrot masterfully played the controls. The growing crowd started to press in.

  Samantha pulled Io up behind her, straining at his weight. 'Sit' she mouthed at him indicating the seat opposite her.

  The rest of the team piled aboard behind Io, Mitch giving the thumbs up to Carrot, who pulled the Huey out of danger and into the morning sky.

  “What's all that about?” Clare asked as they all donned headsets. “Those people weren't just responding to your landing. They looked like they knew something by the looks on their faces. Something about us.”

  “It's Rockwell. Aeon Fall have been releasing information about ARC and not being shy about it. Their media guy, the crazy looking one with the black hair. He's doing interviews! The Council are all over the internet and you're now part of that, Clare. Here people might be in a disaster but they still have cell phones. Like it or not, this little team's the face of the rescue effort, or the public face of those responsible depending on what you want to believe. Who's our new companion?”

  “Nobody knows.”

  “And you thought bringing a guy on board without knowing anything about him is a wise decision? Boss, I might be tempted to question your judgment.”

  “If it wasn't for the fact that I extended you the same courtesy all those years back,” Clare answered. “Sammy trusts him and has a rapport. He saved a baby girl by pure luck. I don't feel he's a threat. The moment that feeling changes, he's off the boat.”

  “Get us up within range of the scar in the mountainside. Circle around it. There's nothing else in that city for us but trouble. We've done all that we can through the night.”

  Samantha watched Io as the team flew into the sky, studying his face. His hair and beard were silver before their time. It was as if he had undergone a sudden shock. His face still held the slightest vestige of youth. No wrinkles marred his face or his forehead. She feared to have a conversation with him since the whole team could hear, yet she couldn't help herself.

  “Anything? Any memories?”

  Io blinked, frowning as he concentrated. His face fell. “Nothing. Only those fractions of my name. Io. It's familiar.”

  Samantha listened, saying nothing. Fully aware that once she opened up to someone it was full-on information disclosure, she feared to say any more in front of a team she barely knew, despite enduring a harrowing night together. Io's
apparent innocence was alluring to Samantha. There weren't many innocents in her life.

  “There,” Io pointed as the helicopter circled into view of the massive scar where once a mountainside had been.

  “Bang on,” Jim agreed. “Look at that spot near the top. It's circular.”

  “That's not regular,” Charlotte countered. “How can you have a circular impact imprinted in the rock face after a mountainside falls away?”

  “Unless whatever hit did so with such impact it pierced the surface and lodged in the rock beneath. We need to get down there. Carrot, can you set us down on the top?”

  “You got it, Jim.”

  Carrot found what was to Samantha a suitably precarious perch for the Huey, a surface of rubble midway between a white stone building and a small knoll with a cross atop a remote shrine. Behind them, the land fell on a shallow slope, the stunted bushes providing a carpet of green all the way up to the distant mountains. It was a huge contrast to the ruination below and to the south, the city crushed by fallen rocks.

  “It's just unusual,” Jim said, peering over the edge. “From up here you can see the spread of the rock fall. It's as if the mountainside liquefied and took everything with it.”

  “What should it look like?” Samantha stood next to him, as Jim threw his arm in front of her for protection. “It just looks like a rockslide.”

  “Well, that's the thing. It might look like that.” Jim shook his head. “Boss, I wouldn't want to be here when this happened. The mountainside erupted outward and at a speed that covered the city. A simple avalanche would have been caught up in the first few buildings, and not continued nearly to the sea. Something propelled this rock much, much faster.”

  Clare looked confused. “How?”

  Jim continued to study the destruction below. “There's a fault line in the Adriatic but that's what created those islands; it wouldn't cause this sort of damage. It's not like the Pacific Northwest, yet just look at it. The rock's levelled everything as if it behaved exactly that way. Those people caught in this didn't stand a chance. The impact caused this rock to liquefy, to become superheated. Something big hit this mountainside and set it off.”

  “Sammy, I want you to take Io and get back away from the edge. Go wait up by that building. Helping the injured is one thing. You can't help here.”

  Nonplussed, Samantha answered, “Clearly. Come on.” She turned and grabbed Io, pulling him along with her.

  “Just don't go too far,” Clare cautioned.

  Trudging along the limestone path, Samantha shifted the strap of her rucksack. Nearing the building, which judging by all the chairs and tables appeared to be a restaurant, Samantha stopped to view the city below. The Adriatic stretched out to the horizon beyond. Ruined Hunters Ridge was out there somewhere.

  She pulled a Bramley apple from her bag and offered it to Io, who stood docile beside her. “Want one?”

  Taking the apple, Io turned it in his hands, examining the dark-green skin. “What do I do with it now?”

  The simple question took Samantha aback. “That rockfall really scrambled your brain, didn't it? How come you have a perfect grasp of the English language to the point of making super-profound statements yet you don't retain enough knowledge to know what an apple is or that you're supposed to eat it?”

  “I…” Io examined the apple once again, looking at her as if unsure.

  Samantha took another apple out of her bag and bit into it, the flesh firm and the sharp tang, refreshing after the hard night. It rejuvenated her.

  Watching her do this, Io copied her actions. He sighed with pleasure as he chewed the apple.

  Samantha giggled. “It's as if you've never eaten anything before.”

  Io finished the apple in several greedy bites, juice spilling into the white of his beard. “It's not a sensation I can recall.”

  Samantha smiled. “That must be amazing, feeling all these impressions for the first time and being able to process them.”

  “This is not how it happens?”

  “Of course not. Have you got memory loss, or been on a different planet?” Why didn't he know this? Samantha wondered. A little in awe, she said, “That must be amazing. Feeling all those positive sensations again as if for the first time.”

  Io held up the apple core. “This is a positive sensation?”

  He opened his mouth to eat the core and Samantha grabbed the arm. “Not that bit. More of those will grow from that part if you bury it. The core isn't good for you.”

  “Oh.” Io reached back and instead hurled the core up and over the restaurant. A collection of outraged squawks arose from where the core landed.

  “Follow me,” she said.

  Io looked back watching Charlotte winch Jim lower over the scarred slope. “What about your companions?”

  “They have their methods to find the answers. I have my own. Come on.”

  Samantha led Io around the building and down a limestone scree slope onto a lower access road. In the fresh breeze of the morning, distant herbs, thyme, rosemary, wafted in from the hillside. Nearby a radio antenna tilted at a precarious angle toward the city. Beyond them, on a shallow slope of scraggly birch and half-dead bushes, a flock of twenty-plus crows gathered—the source of the squawking.

  Samantha turned, looking back from where they had come. “You threw that apple quite a distance,” she observed.

  “My apologies,” Io replied. “Was that wrong of me?”

  “No, it was just unexpected. A good throw.” Samantha opened her bag, pulling out a brown leather-bound book. She opened it to reveal a series of geometrical patterns. “Let's see what the birds have to say to us.”

  Io stood close. Samantha could feel the warmth from his body as he leaned over her shoulder to examine the pages. “You're a very spiritual person. You have faith.”

  The statement could have been a question. Samantha didn't know how to take it. “Not in religion. Not in God. Certainly not in my family. I love Nina but Mom always doted on her. The shining star, the special one.” Samantha flicked to the next page. “Mom never gave me the time of day. It taught me faith in myself.”

  “Who's Nina?”

  The question stopped her dead. It had been years since she'd been asked that. Everybody knew whose daughter and younger sister Samantha Scott was. The sensation was refreshing. She smiled. “My sister. Far less of an inconvenience than I. Hold this please.” She handed Io the book, withdrawing two rusted metal pegs from her bag, unwinding the string most of the way before tying it off. At Io's questioning look she explained, “The circle varies in size depending on the time of day and the number of birds.”

  “You have faith in nature then?”

  Samantha paused. By the intent look on Io's face, this question was very important to him.

  “Yes, I do. It's never steered me wrong. Step back please.”

  Io complied and Samantha inserted the first peg into the limestone soil. The ground was well-drained and loose. The outer peg carved a large circle as she moved it around. When she had finished, Samantha wrapped her tools back up and stored them.

  “Now what?” Io asked.

  “Now whoever wants to read the signs holds the book and casts an object into the midst of the flock. If you're lucky the flock will settle and you'll be able to pick out shapes. It's a method of divination. Like reading tea leaves with birds. But you have to believe.”

  “That should not be a problem for me,” Io replied as he stepped into the circle and kneeled to pick up a fist-sized chunk of green-stained limestone. “I can't remember anything about myself so I don't know if I believe or not. I'm a blank parchment.”

  “That's good enough for me,” Samantha conceded. “Now is it good enough for them? Just throw the rock into their midst and try not to hit them. Let's see if they make a shape we can recognise.”

  Still watching her with those big, dark eyes, Io hurled the rock out into the field.

  The flock of crows rose in unison, squawking wit
h alarm, and flying in randomly across the field.

  “It's working,” Samantha called out, feeling exultant.

  “Then why do I feel nervous?” Io called back.

  The crows, shrieking now, flew about them, some getting so close that Samantha instinctively ducked as they tore over her head.

  “Is this supposed to happen?” Io asked, head lowered, shoulders hunched.

  “It's unpredictable,” she replied. “They'll land once they calm down.”

  But the crows weren't done. As the flock surged back and past the perplexed Io, they flew up into the air, forming a cone, the birds spiralling tighter and tighter as they neared the peak. When it seemed they could get no tighter, the flock dived straight toward Io, an arrow of black fury directly at the heart of the circle.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Get down!” Io shouted, moving toward Samantha.

  “No! Stay in the circle! You'll ruin it.” Samantha could do nothing more than duck behind Io as the crows screamed past, the circle with Io in it bisecting the shooting crows as they flew to either side. The birds regrouped as soon as they had passed, flocking over the field once more. Instead of massing for another attack, the flock settled to the ground in two arrow-shaped patterns, one inside the other. The crows watched Io with what Samantha could only describe as expectation. It was as if this was not yet over.

  “Is this a sign?” Io asked, clearly startled by the turn of events.

  Samantha stood beside him in the circle. As one, the crows turned to regard her before looking back at Io.

  “More than I've ever seen. That pattern. It's the Thornfalcon.” Samantha turned a couple of pages in the book and pointed midway down the page to a drawing where two arrows were slightly offset. The words spina vulturem were scrawled in Latin underneath.

  “There's a problem with this pattern though, Io. It's the only pattern with no explanation. The casting rarely works at all and then it's more guesswork than interpretation. There were several other signs, easier to read.” She pointed at the floor to where three feathers had settled to the ground as the last bird had passed. “Three feathers falling from one crow means you'll be forced to leave something precious behind. Your memories perhaps?”