Chapter Six
It is the day. It is the day of sorrow, the day of the broken gate and the hungry fire. I can feel it in the air. The cold taste of metal is on my tongue, and the smell of death curdles in my nose. The sky is bleak and grey. Today is the day.
She carefully rolled up the scroll and stowed it away in her bag. The unnatural silence made shivers run up her spine. No birds sang, nor dogs barked. The animals knew something was wrong. Her muscles were tensed; her breathing was fast and shallow. If she could pull this off today, it would take a load off her back.
A flock of sparrows hurried past Samira's window. Quickly she shifted forms. No good, no good! they twittered in her mind. She dived into the open air, her talons opening, and lunged into the flock. A tiny, shrieking mass of feathers struggled to free itself from her claw.
Perching on the windowsill, the falcon held the sparrow up in one claw while she stood on the other. I will not eat you, unless you become disagreeable.
You are disagreeable, you dirty, nasty beast! Dirty! Nasty! YAAAAAAAK!
Stupid sparrows. They seldom spoke in full sentences, and when the occasion called for it, they were usually insults.
Silence. I won't harm you. Now tell me, what have you seen that is making you so hysterical?
YAAAAAAAAAAK! Giant! Nasty!
Excuse me?
They roar and scream! Roar! Scream! Giant! Nasty! Many men! Flying! YAAAAAAAAAAAK!
Men? In the sky?
Yes! In the giant, nasty screaming things! Many wings, many wings! No good!
So, it was true. It was finally upon them. A shudder went through the falcon's body, fear flooding her.
YAAAAAAAAAAAK! You are not holding to your oath, nasty beast! Let me free! YAAAAAAAAAAK!
I suppose I shall, or I think I will get a headache.
Serves you right!
The falcon released the sparrow from her iron grip. The little brown bird flapped furiously to join its fellows, who were twittering concernedly among themselves in a nearby tree.
She chuckled to herself –sparrows were just impossible- and hopped back inside the window. But as Samira dressed, she stowed all ten silver daggers away in her clothes: at her wrists, ankles, in her pockets and concealed inside her cloak. She was not the best fighter for reasons already mentioned, but the daggers could come in handy nonetheless.
Breakfast was scrambled eggs, a recipe in the cookbook that Samira had unearthed from the deep recesses of the highest kitchen cabinet. But her mind was not on the food in front of her. It was on the preparations that would need to be made. They would need to pack. Samira couldn't just say, "You're going to Egypt, get packing." That would make no sense. So she would have to pack for them. How tedious.
Seto left for work, but as it was a Saturday, Mokuba stayed home. The tension and silence was too great for Samira, she was too restless to sit still, but too jumpy to play her oud or cook something.
"Mokuba, would you like to go get some ice cream?" asked Samira, poking her head into Mokuba's room. He was sitting on the floor in a bored fashion, reading a comic book.
"Yeah!" he said, discarding the comic and jumping to his feet.
Soon Mokuba was trotting down Fifth Avenue with an ice cream cone in one hand, the falcon coasting above. He sat down on a park bench and began to slurp up the ice cream enthusiastically. The falcon perched in a nearby tree, gripping the branch more tightly than usual. Fear hung in the air like a sickly perfume. The slightest noises made the falcon twitch. She felt tired, but could not close her eyes. The time was too near.
Suddenly the voice of the little sparrow that she had interrogated that morning shrieked shrilly, both in her mind and through the air. The falcon fell off of the branch. She caught herself just in time, and turned the fall into a dive. Pushing off of the ground, the falcon folded her wings close to her body and swerved sharply, toward the source of the shriek. The flock of sparrows, a small inkblot on the blue canvas of the sky, was in a terrified frenzy. Lunging into the cluster of birds, she reached out and snatched the sparrow from the air.
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAK! Not you again! Not now!
Calm down. What is going on?
The monsters! The giants! Nasty! Metal! Scream! They are here! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAK!
Here? In the city?
They approach! Closing in! Dive from the sky they do, like you nasty beasts they are!
Twice I could have eaten you now, yet I spared you. Do not call me a nasty beast.
'Poligize! Don't hurt! The metal giants are coming! They will come to the city! Run! Must—go—run… The sparrow struggled fruitlessly to free itself from the falcon's hold. She swooped back down to the park, landing in a tree.
I see nothing. When will they be here?
Soon! The monsters come with many thunderings! Very fast, faster than you na— you big birds! Any moment, any moment!
"Hey! You let go of that poor little sparrow!" cried the brown-haired girl that the falcon had seen at the coffee shop with the pharaoh a week ago. She took a swing with her purse at the branch where the falcon and her quarry were perched.
"Wait! Téa! Stop!" shouted Mokuba, jumping from the bench.
What a wonderful meeting at the park, thought the falcon as she released the sparrow. It zoomed high off into the sky, alarmed by Téa's attack.
The falcon stayed put on the branch. She gave Téa a shrill warning and flapped her wings.
"But that mean bird was going to kill the sparrow!" protested Téa as Mokuba tugged her arm.
A smaller girl with long, brown hair came to stand beside Téa to observe the falcon. "Everything has to eat, you know," she said in a quiet voice. The falcon supported this statement with a trill. The bird pushed off from the branch and alighted on the back of the park bench.
"It's kind of cute, don't you think?" said the girl, tilting her head to one side as she regarded the falcon.
Mokuba didn't really know what to say.
"Humph. I'm glad I saved that sparrow," grumbled Téa.
"Far from it, lady," said the falcon dryly. "I let it go."
"Eek!" shouted the two girls together. Mokuba laughed, but looked a little worried. He shot the falcon a quizzical glance.
And then the noise. It tore through the air, almost too low for the humans to hear. It vibrated through the ground and through their bones. Mokuba clenched his teeth as his eyes watered painfully. "What was that?" said the girl.
"Téa! Serenity! Mokuba!" The shout came from the entrance to the park. Two boys were dashing toward them. The falcon recognized them from the coffee shop. "We were going to the park, and that boom-"
"Sounded like a sonic boom," said Tristan.
"Hah! Sounded like a bomb to me," said Joey.
The cold fear pierced the falcon's heart. It was finally happening.
Screams erupted from beyond the park. "What's going on?" said Téa worriedly, taking a step back.
And then the humming. Loud and low, like a swarm of angry bees. Columns of smoke rose to cloud the sky, and the screams grew louder. And then the most terrible sight of all… hundreds of planes, filling the sky to blot out the sun. The humming gained intensity, making the very leaves on the trees quiver.
Red jets of light —laser guns— connected with buildings, shattering the metal and glass on contact. The deafening sounds of screeching metal and breaking glass rent the air. Téa, Tristan, Joey, Serenity and Mokuba were crouched to the ground, hands over their ears. The falcon cowered underneath the park bench.
Mokuba's eyes suddenly grew wide with fright. "Seto!" He tried to get to his feet, but a sudden shock wave knocked him right over.
Someone grabbed his hand and hauled him to his feet. It was Samira. "Let's go," she said solemnly.
"Hey, where did that girl come from?" exclaimed Tristan. "What in the-"
"Where are you going?" cried Téa. "Wait!"
"It's dangerous!" pleaded Serenity.
Mokuba stopped, looked back, and fell over. "Ugh. We have to save Seto!" The two faded into the dust and chaos.
"This is crazy!" shouted Joey over the din. "If we stay in the same place, we're gonna get blasted! We have to get out of here!"
"Yugi's house is the closest," said Tristan.
"Let's go," Téa said firmly. And they were off, stumbling when the ground shook, and dodging bits of rubble.