House of Vultures by Maggie Claire (read my book TXT) 📕

waters. “I cannot go anyfarther, Mynah. Please, my feet are killing me!” His eyes droopshut before his head hits the ground. I drag him along the shoreuntil I find a dead tree that is hollow at the center. Carefully Iwedge the boy into its wooden embrace. I cover the entrance withmoss and dry brush, then find a cleft of rock that will cover mefor the night. I drop underneath it to sleep with fitful,nightmarish dreams.

Chapter 8

The song of a lark wakesme as the sweet sound resonates through my makeshift bedroom. Thefirst thing my bleary eyes notice is the rock ceiling a foot frommy head. I am outside. I have left theHouse of Vultures. The events of theprevious day flood back to me. Shimmying out of my hiding place, Irush to Panther, hoping he fared as well during thenight.

“‘Bout time, Mynah,” hemutters as I uncover the hollow tree where I had left him. “I’vebeen awake for an hour needing to take a—”

“I don’t need to know thedetails,” I interject as I pull him out of the trunk, back tostanding on solid ground. Spotting a small bush that appears tohave fruit on its limbs, I hurry away from Panther. “Do what youneed to do, and I’ll get breakfast. Just stay close enough to shoutif trouble comes.”

The raspberries stain my hands as myovereager fingers pinch their flesh. The juices dribble down myknuckles, and when I taste it, I groan at the pleasure of itssweetness. My stomach garbles its delight as I scarf down myportion, too hungry to wait for Panther. When I finish, I wanderfarther away from the River Sangre, letting my mind drift with thewater’s rushing murmurs.

A crack of a twig on myleft startles me into awareness. Then I hear the distinct sound offootsteps hustling through the brush on my right. Slowly circling,I inspect the forest for any visible signs of danger, but I seenothing. The forest is alive with noises, and I suspect there iscommunication here that I simply cannot understand. A rattled hisslike that of a large cat, a soft coo like a bird, the clickingbeetle’s alarm signals, and many more animalistic noises envelopeme. They’re not animal though, I’d bet.The calls are mimicked, mere imitations of the real sound. It’slike they are made with human voices. Thisfar south, it could only mean one of two things: the namelessunchosen or the Minor Houses.

“I’m not here to hurt anyof you. I’m just passing through this land.” I announce, feelingfoolish for speaking without seeing my intended audience. I raisemy hands over my head in a sign of good faith. “I have a fewweapons on my person, but I am not drawing them. I am not huntingnameless or the Minor Houses.”

“You’re not alone either,”a female voice answers me from high in the trees. “You failed toshare that in your explanations.”

“My travelling companionwill follow my wishes. You have nothing to fear from me. I amsimply—”

“We’ve heard that beforefrom your kind. There are those among the Major Houses that hunt usdespite their well wishes and empty promises. Your words meannothing to us,” another voice cries, this one a male sitting low tothe ground on my left side.

“I cannot atone foractions that are not my own. But you have my word, none of you willbe attacked by me.” I catch a glimpse of a tiny foot draped acrossa rock near my left knee. It is covered with moss and dirt ascamouflage, and judging by its size, I suspect it is a child.Edging closer, I pretend to search the skies for the femalespeaker. When I am close enough, I pounce on the rock, grabbing thechild by the ankle. The little boy squeals as he lashes out againstme, but my hold is strong. Nothing will break my grip as Icarefully pull the boy out of his hiding place.

The tip of an arrow brushes against mynose. Another one tickles my neck. A third one lands at my feet,the tip narrowly missing the toe of my boot. I can feel many moreweapons aimed at me, and I dare not breathe in fear that they willstrike. “Let the child go,” whispers the man behind me. “We willnot ask twice.”

“I only wanted to usehim,” I explain, unwilling to relinquish my leverage. “It was theonly way I could draw you out.”

“So, now what do youintend to do?”

I twist my body toward thespeaker, gazing up into his unmasked face and the horde of othersbehind him. Nameless unchosen. Somany! I had noidea they were so populous or that they were banding together likethis. “I will let the child go,” I mumble,easing my fingers off the crying boy’s ankle. He scampers awayimmediately, climbing up into a tree to join his mother. I see histeary eyes boring his outraged stare into my forehead.

“What do you want withus?” The male that I assume is the leader of the groupinquires.

“Nothing,” I assure, myfeet frozen in place. “But you should know that there is trouble inthe northern parts of Cassé. The House of Lions has joined theHouse of Wolves, and war is coming to the House ofVultures.” Why did you tell them any ofthat? I chidemyself. You owe these people nothing. Doyou expect them to lower their guards just because you share thegossip? Stupidgirl!

Murmurs break out among the namelessas the news spreads through their ranks. “Why should we believeyou? What if it’s a trap?” Someone shouts over thenoise.

Another voice cries, “Are you fleeingthe Major House wars? Are you attempting to join the namelessranks?”

“I am merely sharing withyou what I know,” I snap, searching for a clear route of escape. “Iam not required to share my future plans with you.”

“You’re not leaving thisplace unless we allow it! Can’t you see that? There are far toomany of us for you to fight your way to freedom.” The leader aimshis arrow straight at my heart. “So why shouldn’t I just kill younow?”

“What have I done to you?”I snarl, my fingers inching towards my knife.

“Your kind have hunted thenameless as if we are wild animals! Yet we’ve done nothing todeserve it! We weren’t chosen