Strange Noises Fiction by Rachel Greenham

“What are you doing here?”

That’s Ateis’s voice, up on deck, calling me into wakefulness with the incongruity of what she just said. I’m in my bunk, and it’s very early in the morning.

“You’re not supposed to be here!”

Who’s she talking to? I think, sluggishly. I look around. Sleeping forms, but there’s Sam waking up as well. We look at each other, then she turns herself over and starts opening the forward hatch from the inside, quietly. I get up and move aft to the cabin door, then look back at Sam as she stands up slowly through the hatch, then squats down again.

“Clear,” she whispers. “You need to see this.” She puts her finger over her mouth in a ‘shh’ gesture and stands up again and starts to lift herself through the hatch.

I open the cabin door and go up the steps into the cockpit. Ateis isn’t alone up here, I’m relieved to see. Demele has the tiller, with the twins on either side of her. They don’t look perturbed, only curious.

“Who are you talking to, Ateis?” Sam asks. She’s using that tone of voice that people use with children when they already know the answer.

“Look.” She points at the roof of the cabin over my head.

I get the rest of the way out and turn quietly to look. It’s a beautiful, large, white-breasted falcon.

A gyre falcon. Oh shit.

“He just landed a little while ago,” the Demele says.

“He shouldn’t be here, he’s too far south,” Ateis informs me.

Sam is moving slowly aft, around the cabin roof. The bird is watching her, stepping away to keep on the other side of the roof from her until Sam steps down into the cockpit. “Is this the same one?” she whispers to me.

“Don’t know. Same species definitely.”

“Once is just a coincidence. Twice and I seriously get the feeling someone’s trying to get our attention. Especially as it’s so far out of its range.”

“Why now?”

“First time we’ve been outside the Satthei’s influence since Denhall?” Sam speculates. I sigh. “Message like this probably couldn’t penetrate her shields, you know? I’m more interested in who, or what, sent it. Gyrefalcon himself wasn’t a magic user.”

“What is it? What’s going on?” Asuti asks loudly, suddenly emerging from the cabin. The falcon takes off, alarmed, and heads away north-north-east, flying low over the waves.

“He’s going home,” Ateis says.

“He’s not going to make it,” Sam replies. “They live on the coast. He needs a thermal to get height so he can cross between islands.”

We’re nowhere near any islands.

“Sorry,” Asuti says, and climbs out of the cockpit and goes forward to sit against the mast, as if to sulk.

I look at Sam, sensing her already looking at me. I know what she’s thinking.

She nods.

“Ready about!” I yell. “Stand by for jibe.”

“What?” the Demele objects.

Asuti starts making her way back along the side of the boat to the cockpit. Sam’s untying the tiller while I do the same for the main sheet and start tightening it, pulling the sail in so when we put our stern across the wind it doesn’t slam across with too much force. The jib will look after itself; it’s on a runner.

Everyone’s in the cockpit. “About we go!” I call, and turn the boat. The boom swings across hard above our heads and steadies, caught by its stay line. I start letting it out again and the boat picks up speed, following the course taken by the gyre falcon.