Falcons
an excerpt

They weren't attacked that night by any unwanted thieves. They set up camp in the trees, not too far away from the cliff, and the night passed with nothing alarming happening at all.
The next morning, four hours after setting off again, they saw the first signs that they had arrived – farms. They were almost at the big city.
They couldn't stick to the cliffs anymore once they found the farms. They went along the farm fences and continued in their original direction until they reached the city gates.
They were large, but not intimidating – in the sense of them being Lincrest's city gates. It was what lie beyond those gates that scared him. They were still quite a distance from downtown, but just the fact that when they passed these gates they'd be within the same walls as Lucian sent chills up his spine.
One of the gate guards raised a strange clear crystal.
“Hold up your left hands,” he ordered, and they did so. Austen and the other former thieves were allowed in without a problem, but with Nat – who was a citizen of Dracenia, not Lincrest – he asked where she was from. She was allowed in, anyways, since the two shared the great gulf of Dwyer. (Austen thought that it wasn't fair that Lincrest allowed her in so easily, while he had to sneak past the guards to get into Dracenia.)
As they stepped past the gates, Austen looked nervously around him, trying to find somebody who looked suspicious.
“Recognize anyone?” he whispered in Blake's ear.
Blake shook his head. “I'll keep an eye out, though.”
“Thanks,” murmured Austen. He turned to everybody else. “You keep an eye out too.”
They all nodded. He turned and motioned for them to follow him to Bea Palace and the great Falcon Rock.
It was all the way on the opposite side of the city, on the beach. It would take a couple of hours to get there on foot. They had to go slowly, because there could be untrustworthy people in any direction. However, Austen didn't recognize anybody, and that was probably a good thing.
They found another restaurant half an hour later and peeked through the window for a long time before going in.
They found a table at the very far corner and sat there in silence for a long time, not daring to move even though there was nobody dangerous-looking in sight yet.
Austen kept glancing out the window. After he did so for the fifteenth time, he sighed.
“I suppose we should eat something,” he said. It was the first time someone spoke in almost fifteen minutes.
There were a few halfhearted nods.
He glanced out the window again. There was a large group coming down the street, but he didn't recognize any of them.
“Place your orders now,” he told them, still not taking his eyes off of that group.
“We'll just take what we get,” said Sam.
He nodded, eyes still fixed on them, and stood up.
“I'll go with you,” said Blake quickly, also noticing the group.
“Thanks,” Austen murmured.
Before they went to the counter, he saw one of the members of that group turn and look directly at him. Her mistake. It was Jale.
“Someone stand by the door,” he whispered, meeting her gaze for a moment. She suddenly realized that she had foiled the plan and looked away quickly.
Two of the Falcons went to stand guard by the door.
They went to the front counter in silence, and Austen still glanced over his shoulder at the window.
“They're following us,” he whispered.
Blake nodded. “They'll just lose again,” he said simply.
“I wouldn't be so sure,” Austen said in a low voice.
They didn't order anything big. They didn't have time to eat anything big, because they had to get out of here as soon as possible, with the thieves hanging around outside the window.
They returned to the table again, where everybody was tense once more.
The thieves were still standing there.
“What are they waiting for?” Nat whispered.
Austen shrugged. “They're probably waiting until one of us looks away.”
At this point the whole group were staring cautiously at the thieves.
“They should have a name, too,” said Nat. “To refer to them as simply thieves doesn't sound evil enough.”
“Vultures,” said Sam, smiling. Jale turned to look at her – as if she had heard – and Sam grinned and waved at her cheerfully.
They all liked that nickname, and from that moment on they referred to them as the Vultures.
When lunch was ready, someone else went to bring the trays. The Vultures were still outside the window.
“They want us to drop our guard,” said Sam. She snorted and winked at Jale. “Not gonna happen.”
“You're gonna tick them off,” Blake warned her.
“Oh, I don't care,” Sam replied, smirking at Jale in a daring sort of way. “She can bring it on.”
“But–”
Quick as a dart, she turned to look at him. “Don't argue with me,” she said quietly. “What we have to do is get rid of them as soon as possible. It'll be so much easier to make it to the palace if Jale and her dogs aren't following us.”
He opened his mouth to argue, thought for a moment, and closed it again.
“She's right,” Austen said suddenly. He turned to Sam. “But I bet there's a safer and cleverer way to get rid of them than to annoy her into a fight in a public restaurant.”
She scowled and looked away. That, Austen realized, was the first time he argued with Sam and she decided he was right.
He turned to the window again. Jale was staring at him now. “What does she want?”
Jale turned, said something to her friends, and walked to the door of the restaurant alone. Immediately the Falcons were alert again. They put down their silverware, pushed away the plates, and stood up.
She strode across the restaurant, ignoring their defensive positions, and stopped right in front of Austen.
“Tell them to sit down,” she said quietly. “I'm not going to hurt you.”
Austen did nothing. “What do you want?” he growled.
The maid narrowed her eyes at him. “You're making a mistake,” she said softly yet menacingly. “I know what you're trying to do. It will do nothing but put you in more troubles.”
“What are we planning to do, then?” asked Austen coolly.
She glared. Her gray eyes were icier than usual. “You're going to tell the queen,” she said softly. “It's the only thing left for you to do. The police won't believe you.” She smiled softly. “I made sure of that.”
“Do you know how stupid that was?” he asked.
“How, then?”
“You're giving us only one option. You're sending us straight to the palace.”
Jale was silent for a moment. “This could end so simply,” she said at last. “If you would just go back to the hotel, and bring her–” she jerked her head towards Nat, “bring her with you, this would be so much easier.”
“I know that,” he replied. “And I decided not to a long time ago. Go away.”
She pursed her lips, but stayed where she was.
“You'll be sorry,” she said at last.
“Will I?” he asked smoothly. “Well, we'll see. Now get out.”
He saw anger flash in her eyes, almost like fire. “You'll be sorry.” Her voice began to raise. “You won't make it out of this so easily. Go tell the queen. See if she can solve your problems. Take the easy way out, and see if you survive.” She took a step forward, pointing a threatening finger at him. “But you – you'll have to make it past us first.”
And through the door burst all of the other Vultures, who apparently had been waiting to spring.
Jale almost grabbed him, but Austen was quicker this time. He ducked out of the way and took his knife from his pocket. It hadn't failed him yet, and he hoped it wouldn't – not now, not when he needed it the most.
The lady at the counter screamed and ran out the door. The cooks ran out a back exit. The building was empty.
He heard loud noises as the rest of his group battled the other thieves. He didn't have time to look and see how it was going. He kept his eyes locked on Jale's at all times, dodging blows that she aimed at his face. She was unarmed; he wasn't. It wasn't fair. He put the knife away again.
And as soon as he did, she grinned and pulled out her own. Austen yelped and dodged a stab, then another–
“Not fair!” someone shouted, and grabbed Jale's hair and pulled her away from him. Jale screamed and dropped the knife; thinking quickly, Austen stepped forward and kicked it as far away as possible.
Nat had been the one to yank Jale off of him. As soon as she let go, Jale whirled and aimed a slap at her; Nat ducked it, and punched her, hard. Jale cried out and stumbled backwards, gasping. Nat took a step forward, ready, in case she decided to strike again.
But instead Jale whirled and attacked Austen again. He dodged a slap, ducked behind the counter, and, realizing that it was not safe here, climbed on top of it, about to jump off.
Jale was already on it. She had her hands in her pockets, and was watching him calmly.
“Tough one, aren't you?” she asked at last.
Panting, he didn't reply.
“Give up yet?” asked Jale.
He narrowed his eyes. “No,” he growled.
Jale shot him a look of pure hatred and lunged at him. It took him a surprising moment of struggling to realize that she was trying to throw him off of the counter. He would not let that happen. Trying to keep his balance, he tried to throw her off instead, showing no mercy for she would offer none to him.
Not that he'd take it.
“Give up!” shouted Jale, not letting go.
“No!”
Somewhere, he heard Nat shout, “Let go of me!” It distracted him. He dropped his guard for just one second, trying to see where she was, and Jale didn't waste that second. With a sudden burst of strength, she shoved him hard, and before he knew it he had fallen onto the ground, and all the breath had been knocked out of him.
He couldn't move. He just lay there, gasping, and the world seemed to spin around him.
“Give up yet?” he heard Jale whisper in his ear, somewhere very distant. He was slowly slipping out of consciousness, and he didn't want that. He could not let his friends down again. Searching deep inside him, he found strength that he hadn't known he had, gathered it all together, opened his eyes, and lunged at her. Before he knew it, Austen had her pinned to the ground. He was weaker; he didn't care. Rest could wait till later. Now he had to show this snobby thief that she wasn't messing with that blond kid who hid in the shadows anymore. He was capable of so much more than she believed. Now was his chance to prove it. He took his knife from his pocket and pressed it against her throat.
“Back off,” he growled. “Leave my friends alone. Go far away. You're not going to win.”
He saw panic in her eyes for the first time ever. For once she had no response; all she could do was lay there. She wasn't even struggling. Perhaps she was finally realizing that he was no longer that portrait on the wall that nobody wanted to look at.
He saw her relax her shoulders. He had won for now. She would make no more moves to fight him.
Cautiously, he put his knife away and let go of her. She stood up and brushed the dust off of her skirt.
And then they stood there, looking coldly at each other.
“This isn't over,” she whispered.
“I thought not,” he told her.
“We'll be back.”
“At your own risk.” And he saw fear in her eyes.
Jale gulped and took a step back, actual tears rolling down her face. “It's not over,” she repeated. She turned to the Vultures. “Let's go.”
And she ran out the door and down the street, her followers right behind her. Trying to catch his breath, Austen watched her disappear into the distance.
He knew what this meant. It meant that he'd finally earned respect. After twelve years, these thieves finally feared him. He was worth something now. Jale would go home and tell Lucian – perhaps warn him of the Falcons' plan. They'd try to stop it. But now they'd plan their technique carefully, because he wasn't that portrait on the wall anymore. He wasn't even a thief like them anymore. He'd risen to a higher, better position than they. He was a leader now, and he was working to do something good.
He smiled softly. He'd wanted this for so long. Finally, he wasn't just one of those thieves.
He turned to look at his friends. They were all staring at him in awe. They realized the same thing.
Nat was the first to smile and pull him into a tight hug.
“Congratulations,” she whispered, and he smiled even more.
And then everyone else began to speak at once. He barely heard the comments such as “That was awesome!” The feeling of pride that he suddenly felt was so great that it was probably wrong. But it was something he deserved.
People were staring at them through the window. They were curious. These kids had been part of a fight, and yet they didn't look like criminals. They hadn't really broken anything – unless a few overturned lunch tables counted as breaking something. The crowd actually smiled to see what close friends the members of this group were.
When Nat finally let go, for some reason he wished she hadn't. But he forgot it quickly when everybody else jumped at the chance to congratulate him.
The Falcons were now a group to respect.