Chapter 20

We caught up with the others outside the bird-of-prey arena and immediately began listing our new morphs.

"Ferdie did a good job," I said. "He's got loads more than I have. Scorpion, armadillo – loads! God knows what he'll do with them all!"

"Big up, bruvver! An armadillo! That sounds wicked!" shrieked Asha.

"Asha and I did quite well ourselves, actually," said Philip rather pompously. "Asha got a hyena morph for battle, and I got a musk ox, which is like a big buffalo, and a wolverine."

"A wolverine?" asked Ferdie, smirking. "Isn't that like, something out of X-Men?"

"A wolverine is a type of bear," retorted Philip. "Very slick, very powerful, with fantastically sharp claws."

"Sounds good," I said. "I also got a leopard morph and Flawless got a lynx."

I suddenly realised I was referring to Ferdie as Flawless. Hmm.

"Oh, we got some of them mountain animals too, didn't we Philip?" piped up Asha.

"Yep," said Philip. "Asha heregot a reindeer morph andI got an Ibex, which is like a large, wild goat. Both very tough and sure-footed. The reindeer will be a good morph for travelling, actually – apparently in the wild they can trek hundreds of miles across the tundra. And they live in the Arctic, so it'll be a good cold weather morph."

"Good planning. Flawless managed to get us into the medical centre, so we both acquired a pretty good stag morph, which should be valuable."

"Neat," said Asha.

I smiled. We'd done a good job. Time to head for our flight morphs, one of which was soon to become a favourite of mine.

The bird-of-prey arena was a big, open air patch of grass with seating on three of the four sides. Hutch-like enclosures stood at the front of the space, where the birds were kept when they were being shown. A display had evidently just finished – crowds of people were leaving their seats and making their way to the front of the arena, where the falconry staff were letting people have a close up view of the birds. Some of the adults and older kids were allowed to gently stroke them.

"Here's our chance," I said to the others. I tried to keep my voice down, but, with the number of little kids around, no one could hear us, or bothered to listen to us anyway.

We pushed our way to the front of the crowd and examined the little plates giving information about the birds.

"Well, we've got a choice of lanner falcon, British merlin, buzzard, northern goshawk,ospreyand hobby," I said. "There's also a barn own ("isn't he beautiful!" breathed Asha) which I think we should all acquire for when it gets dark."

"I want that merlin!" said Asha. "It looks so cute!"

"Well, maybe we should all get the same," said Philip. "Different types of birds of prey all flying together might attract attention."

"I don't think we should be flying together," I said, "unless we're crows. This card says that raptors – birds of prey – hardly ever fly in groups even if they are of the same species. We can morph different ones if we like. It wouldn't make any difference. You can have your merlin," I smiled at Asha, who beamed.

We began to gather, like eager tourists, round the member of staff holding our favourite bird. Ferdie knew the girl with the hobby, and had no problem into getting to the front of the queue to acquire the bird (and chat up the girl, I noticed). I had read the sign for the hobby. A speedy and graceful falcon, this bird was famous for its spectacular and daring aerial displays. Kind of an ideal morph for Ferdie, I mused.

Asha was trying to acquire the merlin, sticking her hand over the heads of people in an effort to touch the bird. She had to try several attempts – acquisition requires continuous contact, and Ashas' hand kept getting brushed away by visitors.

Philip had chosen the buzzard. Like Philip himself, the buzzard was a powerful and magnificent bird, rich brown in colour with creamy feathers on its stomach.

I went for the lanner falcon. According to the sign, it was mid-sized bird, exceptionally manoeuvrable in flight, their tactics of ambush and surprise making them popular birds to watch – it was almost as if they had a personality.

When we had all acquired our favourite bird, we moved on to the barn owl.

"You're right, Asha," I said, looking at the owls' beautiful heart shaped face. "He is gorgeous." Under the watchful eye of the falconer, I gently reached out and stroked its soft feathers. Then, unbeknown to the falconer, I concentrated on the owl and began to acquire it.

"Super bird," said the falconer, a young woman dressed in khaki trousers and a vest top, a thick falconry glove on her arm. "Those feathers are so soft that when the owl flies, it is completely silent. The prey never hears a thing." She smiled in admiration at the owl as the others acquired it too.