Only when she awoke properly did she realise that it came from outside. It was morning. The light was seeping coldly through her windows – and something terrible was happening. Abren tumbled from her bed and tore out on to the balcony. And there beneath her on the river, in the grey morning light, a pair of swans were locked in battle. It was they who were doing the screaming. Their necks were knotted in mortal combat, and the bigger swan was winning. It was flapping at the younger one, churning up the waters as it tried to get on top of it. Tried to drown the younger swan by biting it and holding it down. And the younger swan was fighting bravely, but it was losing. The bigger swan was screaming in triumph, but the younger swan was screaming for help. And Abren cried in answer, ‘I’m coming! I’m coming! OH, I’M COMING!’ She tore down through the house without bothering to get dressed. Why the two swans were fighting, she didn’t know. All she knew was that the younger swan was screaming for her.
