Chapter 4

A Chapter by Peregrinator7

“How long before the sedative wears off?” Morgan asked the official next to her.

The man checked his watch. “In three… two… one...”

Instead of the captive waking up in groggy confusion, she woke up with a start. Her head jerked up, and not immediately looking at the interrogators, she scanned the room with the precision of a hawk. The room wasn’t very detailed; it was only a bricked gray room with a table and three chairs set up in the center. Morgan and the official sat on one side, and the captive on the other. Finally the captive noticed the two people across from her, and jumped a foot. Calmly, Morgan started the interrogation, noting the captive’s attention.

“What is your name?”

The captive looked at her intently in a disturbing way. “Is your name Morgan?”

“What is your name?” Morgan repeated, this time her voice on edge.

The captive squinted. “Is your name Morgan?”

“If you tell me your name, I’ll say mine,” Morgan said, raising her eyebrows.

It seemed to take a long time for the sentence to register. Finally, the captive said in a hushed tone, “Mandy Gardner.”

Morgan seemed to relax a little. “Yes, my name is Morgan,” she sighed.

Mandy seemed taken aback. “Wait a minute…” She raised an eyebrow. “Is that… next to you…” For no reason, Mandy started to laugh hysterically. But before Morgan could calm her down, the laugh changed into a mysterious kek kek kek sound. The official next to Morgan gave her a questioning look. “Isn’t that the alarm call of a peregrine falcon?”

Morgan wanted to ask him how he knew that, but, in sudden realization, she replied, “Why… yes. It is.”

Then the face of the captive began to change. At first her nose started to elongate, then fuse with her mouth. The rest of the process disappeared under the table. The ropes on Mandy’s chair went slack.

Except Mandy wasn’t there anymore.

Mandy had turned into a peregrine falcon.

I had woken up in a dull gray room and two people in front of me. I didn’t really have much recollection of what happened earlier, but once the person across from me had told me her name, I went beserk. I was so freaked out I started laughing hysterically. Then the change happened. My brain was screaming escape! escape! to me, so I tried. The official next to Morgan dialed a number. I flew around the room, screaming in peregrine falcon, when the door opened. I darted over to a gap, but the door closed too quickly. A teenager (not much older than me) with tousled blue and green hair that covered his eyes came in. He wore a thick leather glove on his left hand and held a large fishing net in the other. I didn’t like the fact he had a net. I screeched and attempted to fly across the room, but he was too quick. The net came over me, and the next thing I knew was that the kid had strapped bands to my legs and strips to the bands (anklets and jesses, he called them) and was holding me on his hand in what seemed to be his dorm room. I knew what everything around was and that it wouldn’t harm me, and I knew I couldn’t escape him, so I just sat there quietly, mainly staring out the window watching rain fall. After a long time (I didn’t keep track) the kid tied me to a flat perch. I was very, very bored. I longed to talk with this kid, but for some reason, I couldn’t turn back to a human. I saw a book on a shelf I was reading before this whole mess happened. Knowing that I only needed to draw the kid’s attention, I flew towards the book and called. The kid looked up from a book he was reading and sighed. “You didn’t know I can talk to you.” His lips never moved, but I could hear his voice in my head.

I was a little surprised, but I tried thinking what I wanted to tell him. “Me bored,” I managed to say.

“Book?” he asked.

“Uh… ‘Falconer’s Knot’,” I replied, naming the book’s title.

“My name’s Max, by the way.”

Max crossed the room and picked the book off the shelf. He placed it near the perch and opened it to the title page. Not saying another word, he strolled back to his chair and continued reading.

The next day, Max perched an osprey next to me. I didn’t really care, although I noticed the osprey had bright, neon-green eyes. That was peculiar. Ospreys have yellow eyes, not green. Over the next week, Max would place the osprey next to me on a different perch. Looking back, I now realize that if Wilson was really an osprey instead of a slated Seahawk griffin and I was a pure peregrine falcon instead of a human trapped as one, we would have been bating madly away from each other. But the last day of the week, when Max put the osprey in its normal spot, it began to grow. Hard, armor-like scales in greens, blues and browns replaced the downy white-and-brown body feathers. Lion paws and tail grew. The only characteristics of an osprey that remained were more textured head feathers, talons, wings and those neon-green eyes.

I nearly shed all my feathers looking at Wilson for the first time. When Max looked up from the book he was reading, I was screeching and bating madly away from from the griffin now in place of the osprey. “C’mon now,” Max said calmly. “Wilson’s not gonna hurt you.”

“How you be sure?” I challenged.

Just to prove his point, Max clambered onto the griffin’s back and scratched his head. Wilson let out a rumble that shook a decorative piece on the bookshelf. It scared me almost as much when Wilson talked in falcon. “He does that a lot,” he said. “It feels good.”

I relaxed a bit, but not much, still shocked that a griffin could speak falcon. Max hopped off Wilson and went to his room with that book he was reading. “I’ll give you guys some privacy.”

Wilson and I talked after that. I told him how I got stuck like a falcon and my friend, Morgan, who seemed to betray me. Wilson nodded in understanding. He and Max had been on the run for quite a while. In self-defense, Max had stabbed an official, making him and Wilson legitimate fugitives. After a quick escape and another run-in, Max and Wilson were caught. Both were sedated and brought to an interrogation room. Only Wilson revealed information about himself, but the two were put into a training program anyway. I could understand that. All I had ever wanted was an ordinary life, but I’d ended up with a mutant for a friend and trapped in a peregrine falcon’s body. I didn’t want some creepo, stalker organization like S.W.O.R.D. tracking every move I made.

After that, Wilson slept next to me in griffin form. I enjoyed his huge rumbles lulling me to sleep. It was like home, when I would put my ear up to my cat’s chest while he purred. Home, home, home…

I tucked my head between my wings and fell asleep.

The next week or two, Max would take me out to S.W.O.R.D.’s training field and fly me. I was so well behaved by then, Max cut the anklets off and just held me freehanded. In the field, he would have me dive towards a dead bird on a stick" a lure" that he swung. “Just do what the falcon in you thinks is best,” he said before I flew the first time. Then he would throw me off his hand, and I would fly up, up, up to a spot I thought would be good to dive from.

The first dive was always the most exhilarating. I would fly so far up Max would have to get binoculars to see me. Then I would dive. It’s an amazing thing, allowing yourself to be a bullet plummeting down from the sky, the wind whistling in your ears. The human in me would freak out, giving me an adrenaline rush, but that made it even more entertaining. Everything always seemed in slow-motion when I dived. Max would swing the lure, and even though he was usually amazed at how high I flew the first time, he wouldn’t let me have it. If I was a human, I would have covered my eyes in fear spotting empty ground below me. But the falcon in me would calmly swoop up like nothing was wrong, and I would try again. After a few more passes, I would hear a satisfying whump and take the successfully caught lure to the ground. It usually had a big treat on it, like part of a quail breast (quail was my favorite). Then Max would pick me up after I ate my fill and we would go back to the dorm. He would congratulate me and say it wasn’t long before I was ready.

Indeed, the day came. Some S.W.O.R.D. officials came out with clipboards, and all seemed a little reluctant. Maybe they thought that flying a human trapped as a bird with no anklets and jesses was a bad idea. I thought I could do low swoops over their heads just for kicks.

Max flew me the usual way, but I flew higher than before. The officials’ faces were drowned in shock and a twinge of admiration. I tucked my wings even farther in than I used to. One of the officials pulled a radar gun out. Apparently, my readings were impressive, because as soon as he clocked it, he showed the others. Max had me fly a little longer, but that was okay. He gave me a whole quail breast when I caught the lure. The officials were talking amongst themselves, and from the tone of their voices, they were clearly impressed. I was clearly exhausted, but it was worth it. Max wouldn’t stop beaming, even when he picked me up. “You did great,” he said. Then the official with the radar gun came up to us. “I’m sorry to be so superficial, but we need to take the bird now,” he said sympathetically. Max’s face hardened, but he handed me over anyways. “Tell Wilson goodbye for me,” I thought-shouted as I was carried away. The last thing I could see before the official put a dark hat on me (a hood) was the mixed look of disappointment and loss in Max’s face.

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© 2018 Peregrinator7

Author's Note

Like I said, this is very horribly paced. I will probably dedicate a couple more chapters to this stage in the story when I write it again. Also, Max and Mandy won't get along as well...