We followed a flagstone path that led away from the main house towards a row of outbuildings. Some of them looked like stables. As we drew closer the long, pale face of a horse appeared.
‘This is Shadowfax,’ Nick said, stopping to stroke the horse’s nose.
‘You really are a
‘They’ll be asleep,’ he said. ‘Keep your voice low.’
Inside the shed was darkness, a strong smell of animal waste and an odd, expectant silence. Then a flapping just over my left shoulder. Light began to grow. I could see Nick’s hand in the corner of the room, adjusting a dimmer switch. I was being watched by ten pairs of soft, black eyes.
I’d stepped back against the door. Too quickly. I’d startled them. They jumped, squawked, flapped and grumbled.
‘Are you OK?’ asked Nick, frowning at me. ‘Sorry, should I have warned you?’
‘What are they?’ I asked, my eyes flicking from one creature to the next, taking in that they were all tethered to their perches. I still wasn’t moving from the door.
‘Peregrine falcons,’ Nick replied, approaching the nearest bird. The creature bent its head towards Nick’s outstretched hand, as though it would nuzzle against him. Or bite. Nick pulled out of reach before either could happen.
The birds differed slightly in size but were identical in colouring. The feathers on their backs and upper wings were the colour of rain-drenched slate. Those on their breasts were cream and cinnamon, dappled with black. ‘Fastest creatures on the planet,’ said Nick. ‘Haldir, this is Laura.’
The falcon looked at me. Its eyes were black, rimmed with yellow. I’d seen people with less intelligence in their eyes.
‘I thought that was the cheetah,’ I said. The falcon hadn’t taken its eyes off me.
‘Cheetah, shmeetah,’ said Nick, lifting his fingers towards the bird again, pulling them out of reach as the bird ducked its head. ‘The cheetah can run at seventy miles an hour for a couple of minutes. Peregrines have been recorded diving at two hundred miles per hour.’
At the far end of the shed, on a separate, raised perch, a bird that I was pretty certain was an owl jumped and spread its wings, as though clamouring for attention.
‘Well, I would be impressed, but isn’t that just the same as falling?’ I said. ‘If you’re high enough, don’t you just gather speed ad infinitum?’
Nick held out his arm and the falcon stepped on to it. ‘The essential difference between freefall and a controlled dive is that a peregrine can pull himself out of a dive in two seconds.’
I took a step closer to them both. ‘Will he let me touch him?’ I asked. The bird looked at me as if to say,
‘He’s a bit jumpy,’ said Nick. ‘Even I have to watch myself. Leah will, though.’ He put his arm back to the perch and the falcon graciously stepped down.
‘Put this on.’ Nick was holding out a long leather glove. I pulled it on over my right hand. It stretched halfway up my arm. Then Nick raised my arm until it was horizontal and led me further into the shed until we were both surrounded by intense black eyes. He lifted the owl from her perch and put her gently down on my outstretched arm. She was almost entirely white except that the feathers on her back and wings were the colour you might see if a tortoiseshell cat was turning slowly to gold.
‘She weighs nothing,’ I said, lifting my arm a fraction. She gave a little jump and shook her wing feathers.
‘She’s really just a pet,’ Nick replied. ‘A barn owl. Owls aren’t much good for hunting. I fly her sometimes, just for fun.’
‘And these birds hunt for you?’ I asked. ‘They actually catch food that you eat?’
‘More than I can eat. That’s why Liz comes in handy. You should come out with me one day.’
‘Do you fly them every day?’
‘In the season, yes.’
‘How do you find time to work?’ I asked.
‘I’m a GP,’ he said. ‘We work part time and get paid a fortune. Don’t you read the papers?’
Leah turned her head to look directly at me. There was something a bit eerie about the way her head could move independently of her body. Nick reached out and ran his hand lightly over her crown. As his hand left her, she seemed to stretch up towards him.
‘Never thought I’d hear one of you admit it,’ I said.
‘Oh, I’m always honest about the small things,’ he said. ‘That way the big lies tend to go unnoticed. You weren’t too sure when you came in, were you?’
‘Not really,’ I said. ‘A bird very like these attacked me yesterday.’
‘Where?’
‘A couple of miles from here. Not far out of town. I was out running. I thought I might lose my eyes at one point. It was a bit freaky.’
‘Describe it for me,’ he said.
As best I could, from memory, I described the bird that had flown at me the day before. I gave a rough idea of its wingspan, the colour of its feathers. ‘Bigger than these,’ I finished, looking carefully at the falcons. ‘And with different feathers underneath.’
‘Sounds like a buzzard,’ said Nick.
‘Are they known for rowdy behaviour?’
‘Well, funnily enough, it’s not unheard of,’ he replied. ‘Especially in the summer when they’ve got young in the nests. This time of year, though, it is unusual. I can only imagine it had been kept in captivity at some point and became used to humans providing food.’
The birds sensed the commotion before we heard it. One second they were relaxed, getting used to our presence, maybe even enjoying the unexpected company, the next there was a massive ruffling of feathers, excited jumping around and frantic squawking. Nick gave the door a worried glance before reaching out to take Leah from me. He put her back on her perch, spoke softly to the others and led me to the door.
‘You there, Nick?’ called a man’s voice. I stayed in the shed. I’d recognized that voice.
‘We’re here,’ called Nick. ‘What’s up?’
‘There’s a dog in with the yows down at Tydes End,’ said the voice I knew. ‘Causing fuckin’ mayhem, according to Sam.’
Nick sucked in a deep breath. ‘Shit,’ he said. ‘It’s too bloody dark. We’ll need lights.’
‘Got ’em. John’s taken the truck down. I said we’d follow.’
Nick turned to me. I had no choice but to step outside. Two men had approached. One was a tall dark-haired man in his late forties who looked as though he ate too much red meat. The other was smaller and slimmer, with silver hair and narrow-set eyes. He was the man called Jim whom Liz had pointed out earlier. He was also the farmer-bully who’d turned me out of the scary woods the previous day.
‘Laura, can you make your way back to the house?’ Nick said. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’
I sensed Jim hadn’t recognized me. The day before, I’d been in jogging clothes, my hair pulled back and dark with sweat, no make-up. Dressed for a party I looked very different. ‘Of course,’ I replied. ‘Everything all right?’
‘There’s a dog worrying the sheep a couple of fields along,’ said Nick. ‘They’re all in lamb so it’s pretty serious. Half the flock could miscarry if we don’t get it out of there. Back soon.’
He patted my shoulder and was off, stopping only to unlock the last shed in the row and pull something that looked a lot like a shotgun out of it. Then he and the other two men disappeared over a fence and across the field.
Jessica walked on, further into the forest, and gradually became aware that the light was changing. The trees were no longer black and silver in the moonlight but a pale shade of gold. They were gleaming all around her, glowing brightly as though reflecting back sunshine. She looked up. As each tree reached the midnight-blue sky, the gold trunks splintered into a glittering cobweb of branches. And tiny pieces of gold were drifting down from above. At first Jessica thought they were falling leaves, but as one landed on her outstretched arm she realized it was snowing.
