The Nightbird - Ch. 1

His nose twitched. Something wasn't right here. Still, the Master spoke on.
"The Nightbird has ceased her songs of pleasant dreams. She's up to something. We must discover her true face. Even our darling Queen Annamarie has no idea who she could be. We must tread carefully. Something has angered the Nightbird. Listen closely," he paused and every being held it's breath. Jerick closed his scarlet eyes and he felt the chills of being watched touchy his spine. "She is the most deadly thing you will ever come across. The moment her song is altered, you can be sure that a disastrous time is upon us. Find and capture her. Kill her if you can't contain her." The entire hall inhaled as one. The Lords of Origion had never been instructed to kill before. It was against the principals of the Queen.

A soft lower pitched laugh cascaded from the balcony and each Lord reached for his weapon.

"'Kill'? You're under the impression that Miss Nightingale can be killed?" A figure stepped onto the railing, its hands on its hips. "My, won't she like this?"

"Who are you?" The Master demanded.

"Why, the Owl, kind sir." The figure stepped off the railing and wings erupted from its back. "Just a measly owl...Nothing to you big men who are running scared from a pretty little song bird. Brave men indeed." The Owl laughed.

"Jerick. Bring the one named Jerick to me, Mr. Owl." A soft feminine voice called. Jerick unsheathed his sword.

"Jerick?" The Master murmured.

"Yes, Miss Nightingale." The Owl dipped its head.

"Jericho, Jericho. The walls are tumbling in on her, Lord Jerick. Jericho! Jericho! Jericho! Jerick's coming to rescue you! Jericho!" The voice faded slightly.

"Show yourself!" The Master yelled.

"Ah, but Mr. Owl is all you'll be able to handle." Ghostly laughter rang shy and softly.

The Owl soared over the crowd and settled beside the Master He had white locks of hair with gray specks. His hair barely touched his shoulders and was jagged, with many different layers. His skin was snow white and his eyes where golden. His wings bore the same appearance as his hair and small feathers drifted from them. A ring of silver hung from the left side of his bottom lip.

"Lord Jerick, come find me." The voice taunted.

"May I?" Jerick said his eyes on the Master.

"She showed herself for you...perhaps you should..." His dull brown eyes urged him to be careful. Jerick nodded.

"No fight" The Owl exclaimed, disappointment thickening his voice as Jerick dropped his sword into the arms of a waiting servant.

"What does she want with me?" Jerick asked, his eyes meeting the Owl's.

From the shadows, deep within the maze of tunnels, a soft sigh shattered the silence. Natalie Nightingale couldn't help herself. Here she was, in the bowels of her enemy's primped up lair, and she had absolutely no thought of the Queen. Her glimpse of Jerick plagued her. Somehow, she knew his face, his name. She was certain she'd never met him. A sly little voice deep in her subconscious brought him into focus.

Her deep connection with the Owl allowed her to see and hear everything he did.

"Well?" The impatience in his voice made her smile slightly in the darkness.

"She wants you." The Owl said simply.

"I will only speak to him." She said and her voice came from a small gold bracelet around the Owl's wrist. Jerick frowned.

"Why is that?" He demanded. She paused for a moment.

"Would you like to conduct a treaty or not?" The Owl hissed in a harsh voice.

"Yes we would. But he cannot go alone. I will-," the Master began.

"No! No, no, no." Natalie yelled. "I just want him and only him!"
Jerick stared at the Owl, curiously searching his eyes. Natalie froze, certain he could sense her. His brilliant eyes widened just a fraction.

"Who are you?" He murmured. "I know you..." Her heart began to race.

"I'm Na-," The Owl covered the bracelet.

"Miss Nightingale. You mustn't reveal your identity here. It's still dangerous, love."