Chapter Two
Seto sat at a table by himself at a coffee shop near his workplace, sipping tea and glancing over the morning paper disdainfully. Wars, tax deficits and angry senators. Boooooooring.
He looked up over the newspaper and almost laughed. The falcon was splashing and sunning herself in the fountain on the café patio, and throwing the usual pigeon residents into fits. They hooted angrily at the falcon from trees nearby, but warily kept their distance.
Shaking his head, Seto went back to the paper.
The falcon stretched and took off into the air. The pigeons shrieked and rose in a frantic flock to flap over to the restaurant across the street, where it was safer.
But then there was a silver, 100 mph streak that whizzed right into the frenzied cloud of birds, scattering them as they screamed enraged calls of pigeon fury.
The silver smudge on the skyline darted out of the flock and glided into a tree that shaded Seto's table.
Curiously, he looked up into the tree.
Yuck, he thought.
The falcon was holding the bloody corpse of a pigeon down with one talon as she tore at its meat with her sharp beak. In two minutes, she had completely stripped the body of flesh, until it was a bloodstained skeleton. She let it drop to the base of the tree and land in the woodchips.
She swallowed and blinked contentedly at Seto.
He raised his eyebrows slightly and resumed reading.
So that was what she had meant by "I'm hungry". She had planned to murder a pigeon. Sheesh.
But he couldn't help but admire the way that she had dived right into the flock and caught her dinner in less than ten seconds. And in Seto's opinion, Domino City had a serious pigeon overpopulation problem. We could do with a few less of those cooing terrors around here anyway, he thought.
"Hey Seto!"
He looked up, and saw Mokuba running down the sidewalk toward him, dragging a huge briefcase along with him.
"Hello, Mokuba."
Mokuba sat down in the chair across from his brother, out of breath.
"I called Meryl's cell and she said you'd gone out for a break, and so I figured you'd be here," he explained.
"Who's Meryl?"
"Meryl Renzawa? Your secretary?"
"…Oh…"
"Why do you keep glancing at that tree?" Mokuba followed Seto's gaze. "Oh wow, a falcon! I've never seen one of those before. Look, it's not scared, it's just sitting there."
The falcon looked curiously down at Mokuba. She made a purring "brrrip" noise, as if to say, "whatever", and closed her eyes.
Mokuba grinned.
The waiter trotted up to their table. "Something for you, young sir?"
"Can I have a Coke?"
"Very good, sir," said the waiter, bowing himself away.
Mokuba noticed his brother's look of distaste. "What's wrong?"
"They are such suck-ups over here," said Seto disgustedly.
His little brother laughed.
The falcon was watching them from under half-closed eyelids. She wondered what "suck-up" meant.
Soon the sucking-up waiter returned with Mokuba's Coke, and Mokuba jabbered away to Seto about school. Seto was only half listening, because he was watching several people out of the corner of his eye, who had just come into the café. The very sight of them made his stomach clench.
Mokuba sipped his drink, then set it down hard on the table. "You're not listening to me," he pointed out flatly. "What's eating you?"
"Them," Seto growled, jerking his head toward the table of people he'd been watching.
His little brother twisted around in his chair.
"That's— hey, it's Yugi!" Mokuba exclaimed. He got up and dashed over to Yugi, Joey, Tristan and Téa's table.
The sight of Mokuba chatting with them made Seto's blood boil. Partly because he didn't really like any of them, and partly because he was jealous.
Seto had no friends. Well, Mokuba was his friend, but he was also his brother, so that didn't really count.
But what about Yugi? Said the nasty little inner voice in the back of his head. You gave him that card at Battle City so that he could beat Marik, didn't you? And you two have helped each other out before. And the Pharaoh and the Sorcerer were friends.
Shut up, argued Seto. That's Ishizu talking. Although he knew that Ishizu had helped him at Battle City by lending him Obelisk, and she had led him to do something that the normal Seto never would have done: help Yugi duel. But as helpful as Ishizu might have been, she still gave him the creeps. Seto thought Ishizu was extremely weird. She was always following him around, like a stalker, and badgering him about his destiny. Not that Seto believed he had a destiny.
A stalker, he thought, chuckling inwardly. That pretty much described Ishizu.
Wow, two laughs in one day. That was something of a record.
The falcon was awake and screeching. He looked up into the tree. She was staring at Yugi's table, a clearly surprised look in her golden eyes.
Suddenly the bird glided off of her branch and alighted on the back of Seto's chair. He shot her a furtive, warning glare. The falcon calmly met his scorching gaze. "Who is that?" she whispered, jerking her head toward the table where Mokuba was chatting.
Seto ducked behind his newspaper. "Are you insane?" he hissed. "I can't just be talking to a falcon sitting on the back of my chair in broad daylight!"
"Can, and are," she replied sassily. "Who is that boy? The short one?"
"That's Yugi Moto, and if you don't mind, I'd like to leave him out of this conversation."
"I do mind. Is that the Millennium Puzzle around his neck?"
Seto quickly checked over the rim of his newspaper to make sure no one was looking. No one was.
"Yes," he whispered. "Why do you care?"
"It's my business to care," she returned serenely.
"Whatever." Seto went back to his paper and tried to ignore the falcon.
She gave him a despairing look and flew back up into her perch.
The falcon studied Yugi carefully. So this was the Pharaoh's reincarnation. A bit of a disappointment; in her opinion. He was a shrimp.
Yes, he had the same hair, the same face, and the Puzzle hung around his neck. But he seemed very different… he was a mere child!
She flew over to a tree nearer to their table to get a closer look.
Yugi/The Pharaoh was accompanied by three youths who looked to be several years younger than Seto. They were all considerably taller than Yugi. The female had shoulder-length brown hair and blue eyes. The slightly taller boy had brown hair and brown eyes, and the other had shaggy blond hair that the falcon considered quite unattractive. Who cuts his hair? she thought disgustedly.
"— you going for summer vacation?" the girl was saying.
"I don't know," replied Yugi. "I'll probably just be hanging around Domino City."
"I can't believe there's only less than a month of school left," commented Mokuba.
"Me neither," agreed Yugi. "I can't say I'll miss it."
"Hey, look, there's that falcon again," Mokuba said, pointing at the tree.
"Where?"
"Huh?"
"What's a falcon?" said the boy with the raggedy haircut.
What an idiot, she thought, looking down at him derisively.
"It's that bird up there, Joey," explained the taller boy.
"It's been hanging around all morning," Mokuba said.
This Yugi boy has a very strange taste in friends, noted the falcon.
"I'll probably be polishing my dueling skills," said Joey. "Not that they need polishing," he added boastfully.
The girl laughed at him. "Sure, Joey."
"What? I'm pretty good."
Blech. I'm going for a fly. There's too much hot air around here. She glided up, up into the cotton-ball sky, over a skyscraper, and came to perch on a lamppost.
Peculiar. What's this piece of metal for, I wonder? thought the falcon.
She watched strange, brightly colored contraptions on wheels zoom by on the street. That kid, a duelist? If he's a duelist, I'm a vulture. Hah. I'd like to see how they duel down here.
A sudden chill that had nothing to do with the air went through her. Are you sure? Whispered a light breeze in her ear. You would like to see a duel?
Forgive me.
Anyhow, they do not use dark magic anymore. These humans use pieces of paper and holograms, which is a thing of machines.
Machines and cards? What has the noble art of dueling become?
It was never noble, my daughter. Now you must forget about this and put your mind to the task at hand.
Yes, father.
Good. Now return to your priest. The time will come soon, my daughter.
How soon?
Be prepared for the worst. That is all I know. Who knows what can happen in this contorted world of machines and metal?
That is true, but…
Yes?
I want to get this over with, father. I am not looking forward to the Time-Cleft. I would just like to spend some time on Earth, without having to save it.
I understand. Have heart, my child. Your brother and sister will arrive soon. Be patient and keep to your task. You have done well so far, but make sure not to be too…
Too what?
…Impulsive. That was always your weak spot. Do not worry, daughter. I have faith in you.
Thank you, father.
I will see you soon.
Good-bye.
The falcon shook herself, fanning her wings out, and caught a warm updraft, which she coasted upward into the sky. She glided around for a while until she spotted the café where Seto and Yugi were. The falcon folded herself into a dive and plummeted earthward. Her heart beat like a drum in her small ribcage, and adrenaline rushed through her bloodstream. How she loved diving! The wind whistled past her, caressing her feathers.
She pulled up two feet above the café patio, causing a waiter to jump and nearly drop the tray he was bearing.
The falcon fluttered over to the tree that shaded Seto's table. She surveyed the scene below: Seto was reading his paper but watching Mokuba out of the corner of his eye. Yugi and his pals were chattering away at their table.
By now she had perceived that Mokuba was Seto's little brother. They didn't look a thing alike.
She yawned and fluffed up her silver feathers. This was getting boring; the falcon had seen enough of this strange city for one day. She was full and sleepy, and wished that they could leave.
Mokuba went back to Seto's table.
"Come on, Mokuba, let's go," he said to his younger brother. The two strode out of the café. The falcon curiously followed them.
"So, Seto, why did you leave work?" asked Mokuba.
"I made us a million dollars richer this morning, so I figured that would be enough for one day."
"Wow."
They walked the rest of the way back to their house in silence. The falcon followed them into a small alley between two buildings. Probably a shortcut, she thought.
What neither of the brothers noticed was a hooded, dark figure trailing them, skirting the light and skulking in the shadows. The falcon watched the person interestedly. Was it the custom to have an obscure human follow you around? But there was a certain air of menace around the man, a decidedly malevolent aura in the way he crept about, keeping his head low and casting glances over his shoulder. The falcon could see that he was keeping something swathed in the front of his cloak.
Her falcon instincts kicked in. Bad, very bad! Keep away!
It could be an assassin! her mind argued.
Bad, bad, very bad.
Be quiet.
She forced down the feeling of animal panic that was rising like a flash flood in her falcon's brain. Could she warn Seto without Mokuba noticing? It seemed impossible.
She flew on, undecided, keeping an eye on the mystery man.
Suddenly he lunged out of the shadows towards the brothers; the falcon dived. She threw herself at his face, tearing at his unprotected eyes with her talons. Warm, crimson blood gushed from his mangled face, down his chin and staining the falcon's feathers. He shrieked in pain and blindly grabbed for her.
She tried to break away, but a gloved hand clamped around her neck and clenched down.
No air… the world spun before her eyes… the smell of blood seeped into her nostrils… her stomach rebelled, her brain screamed for oxygen… she felt a bone in her neck snap…
Her mind shut down and the world went black, as if someone had pulled a heavy curtain over her eyes.
Seto heard a man shout behind him, and he turned to see what the ruckus was about. There was a person swathed in black struggling to pull the falcon away from his face… something red spattered onto the pavement…
And suddenly the bird went limp, hanging from his hand like a dead rabbit.
The assassin rose mangled, bloody eye sockets to meet Seto's. Though the hooded man's eyes burned with pain, he plunged his hand into his pocket and swiftly brought out a gun.
A shot rang through the morning air like shattered glass.
"Seto!" Mokuba screamed.
But the man had missed his mark. The falcon had sunk her beak deep into his trigger hand, and blood fell in a great crimson waterfall onto the sidewalk. The gun clattered to the ground.
The falcon made a haphazard dive out of the gunman's grip. Without thinking, Seto scooped up the injured bird and ran. Mokuba dashed after his brother, and they fled down the alley to their small mansion on Coldwater Street.
They burst into the front hall.
"I'll get some towels," Mokuba panted, sprinting off to the bathroom.
Seto gingerly held the bloodstained falcon out in front of him. Soon Mokuba was back, and they made up a bed for the bird on the couch.
"Shouldn't we wash it off?" asked Mokuba.
Seto nodded. They went to the kitchen and found one of those big salad bowls. Seto filled it up with warm water and brought it into the living room.
Mokuba was sitting on the couch next to the bird. She was curled in a forlorn, limp way among the towels, her eyes tightly shut.
"Is it… alive?" Mokuba asked quietly.
As if to answer, the falcon slowly opened one golden eye.
The brothers carefully washed the falcon, wiping the blood off of her feathers. When she was clean they wrapped her in new towels. She lay contentedly on her terrycloth nest, sleeping peacefully at last.
Later in the evening, Seto was lying on his bed, reading a book.
Mokuba crept in uncertainly.
"Seto?" he said.
"Hm?"
"Who was that man back there? The one- the one with… the gun?"
Seto slowly shut his book, swiveling his gaze to his younger brother.
"An assassin, I assume," he said.
"But why did that falcon save you? I mean, they're smart, but I didn't know they were that smart…" Mokuba trailed off underneath Seto's penetrating stare.
"In case you didn't notice, that falcon is not normal," he replied. "Tomorrow when she wakes up, I think we'll get some answers."