Mirela’s back claw caught William’s right cheek, opening a deep gash. He roared in pain and dropped to his knees, hands pressed to his face. For one horrible moment he couldn’t see out of his right eye. He blinked hard and his vision returned. He could see the blood dripping from between his fingers to fall to the stone floor. “Mirela, calm down, stop! You can’t get out!” It was Christoffer’s voice. Holding his face, William looked up to see the falcon darting across the ceiling. She hit the roof, dropped a few feet, caught herself and went careening into a wall. Christoffer ran to him. William had dropped to the ground close enough to the bars that the boy was able to reach through them and touch his shoulder. “Did she get your eye?” he asked, voice grim. “She’s panicked.” As Christoffer spoke, Mirela streaked between two of the bars, on a collision course with the wall. Christoffer leapt to his feet with inhuman quickness and snatched the falcon from the air. Her claws caught him once across the chest before he got her under control.
