The bird sensed the threat and stared, seemingly transfixed. The man squinted; he was aware of a rush of anticipation, and his finger tightened on the trigger.Before he could shoot, however, a familiar female voice blasted the silence of the moor with the subtlety of canonfire."Papa!" Her voice was petulant and frantic. "Papa, where have you been?" she wailed. "I need you."He lowered the rifle before briefly considering shooting himself in the head. The hawk had taken refuge in a crevice seconds before. "What dire emergency is it this time, Flora? Another pimple on the chin? Another unpaid bill come back to haunt you?""Oh, Papa." She clumped up beside him with her hand on her chest to control her breathing. "The most dreadful thing has happened. The most ominous, the most awful—the prediction has come true."He removed a handkerchief from his tweed jacket and dabbed his upper lip. "Prediction?""I told you, but as usual you ignored me. Black Mag predicted that she was coming back, and it's true.""Black Mag?" His handsome face hardened.
