Read Online The Eye of the Falcon by Michelle Paver - Free Book Online Page A

ghostly children. “Something’s wrong with me,” he blurted out. “I can see ghosts.”
    Akastos set down his beaker and looked at him.
    â€œIt’s horrible, I hate it!” cried Hylas. “I never know when I’m going to see them—and when I do, my head hurts.” He touched the scar on his temple. “Why is it happening? Why me? I never could before!” He appealed to Akastos, the wisest man he knew.
    But all the wanderer said was, “You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.”
    Hylas blinked. “I—I’m trying to find Pirra.”
    â€œWho? Oh, I remember, your girl.”
    Hylas flushed. “She’s not my girl, we’re just friends.”
    Akastos snorted. “You’re what, nearly fourteen? You expect me to believe that?”
    Hylas’ flush deepened. “I don’t care what you believe,” he said crossly. “She’s somewhere called Taka Zimi, it’s high on Mount Dikti, but I don’t know where.”
    â€œStop stirring, it’s ready,” said Akastos.
    The wine was strong, the porridge delicious, and Hylas forgot about being annoyed and ate two bowlfuls, then scraped the pot. Feeling pleasantly giddy and beautifully warm, he mustered his courage. “What about you?”
    â€œWhat about me?” said Akastos without looking up.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?”
    He could see Akastos deciding how much to tell him. “I’m trying to find some people I used to know who hate the Crows as much as I do.”
    The Crows. In his mind, Hylas saw their black rawhide armor and their harsh faces smeared with ash. Out loud he said, “Are the Crows here on Keftiu?”
    â€œIf not yet, then soon.”
    â€œWhy would they come here?”
    â€œWork it out, Flea. After what’s happened, Keftiu is the weakest it’s been in years. The Crows are bound to invade, it’s what they do.” His tone was bitter. Long ago, the Crows had invaded his homeland. He’d fought alongside the rightful High Chieftain, and they might have won, if Outsiders from the mountains had fought with them. But the Outsiders had refused, and because of that, the High Chieftain had been killed, Koronos had seized Mycenae, and Akastos had lost his farm and fled.
    A gust of wind burst open the door, letting in a blast of snow. Akastos slammed the door shut and Hylas wedged it with a piece of wood. When he sat down again, he was shaking. That felt like a message from the Crows: Wherever you are, we will find you.
    All winter, he’d tried not to think about them, but now in his mind he saw Koronos, their lizard-eyed leader. He saw Telamon, who’d been his own best friend until he’d turned his back on friendship and sided with his terrible grandfather, Koronos. He saw Koronos’ murderous spawn: Pharax, Alekto, and Kreon. And he remembered the terrible night when the Crows had attacked his camp, killing his dog and separating him from Issi.
    Thinking of it made him dizzy and sick, and he clutched his upper arm, where the Crows’ black obsidian arrowhead had dug into his flesh.
    â€œSo now, Flea,” said Akastos, wrenching him back from the past. “Once again you just happen to cross my path. All I know about you is that you may or may not be the Outsider in the Oracle. It’s time to tell me who you really are.”
    â€œWh-what do you mean?” stammered Hylas. “You know who I am, I’m—”
    â€œWhere do you come from? Why do our paths keep crossing? Who were your parents?”
    â€œI don’t know,” said Hylas. “That’s the truth. I never knew my father, I don’t know anything about him.”
    Akastos gave him a long, searching stare. “What about your mother?”
    â€œAll I remember is she had dark hair and she told me to look after Issi. She left us on Mount Lykas when we were little, wrapped in a