Free Shadow Spell by Nora Roberts Page A

branch, folded their wings, and stared down like golden gods.
    â€œWill you trust me with your camera, Tom?”
    â€œOh, sure. I wanted to get some pictures of Taylor with the hawk. With . . . Roibeard?”
    â€œAnd I will. You turn, back to them, look over your left shoulder there, Taylor.” Though Roibeard would answer without, Connor laid a bit of chicken on the glove.
    â€œGross.”
    â€œNot to the bird.”
    Connor angled himself. “Just lift your arm, as you did the first time. Hold it steady.”
    â€œWhatever,” Taylor mumbled, but obeyed.
    And the hawk, fierce grace in flight, swooped down, wings spread, eyes brilliant, and landed on the boy’s arm.
    Gobbled the chicken. Stood, stared into Taylor’s eyes.
    Knowing the moment well, Connor captured the stunned wonder, the sheer joy on the boy’s face.
    â€œWow! Wow! Dad, Dad, did you see that?”
    â€œYeah. He won’t . . .” Tom looked at Connor. “That beak.”
    â€œNot to worry, I promise you. Just hold there a minute, Taylor.”
    He took another shot, one he imagined would sit on some mantel or desk back in America, of the boy and the hawk staring into each other’s eyes. “Now you, Tom.”
    He repeated the process, snapped the picture, listened to his clients talk to each other in amazed tones.
    â€œYou’ve seen nothing yet,” Connor promised. “Let’s move into the woods a bit. You’ll all have a dance.”
    It never got old for him, never became ordinary. The flight of the hawk, the soar and swoop through the trees always, always enchanted him. Today, the absolute thrill of the boy and his father added more.
    The damp air, fat as a soaked sponge, the flickers of light filtering through the trees, the swirl of the oncoming autumn made it all a fine day, in Connor’s opinion, to tromp around the wood following the hawks.
    â€œCan I come back?” Taylor walked back to the gates of the school with Roibeard on his arm. “I mean, just to see them. They’re really cool, especially Roibeard.”
    â€œYou can, sure. They’d be pleased with a bit of company.”
    â€œWe’ll do it again before we leave,” his father promised.
    â€œI’d rather do this than the horseback riding.”
    â€œOh, you’ll enjoy that as well, I wager.” Connor led them inside at an unhurried pace. “It’s pleasant to walk the woods on the back of a good horse—a different perspective of things. And they’ve fine guides at the stables.”
    â€œDo you ride?” Tom asked him.
    â€œI do, yes. Though not as often as I might like. The best, of course, is hawking on horseback.”
    â€œOh man! Can I do that?”
    â€œThat’s not in the brochure, Taylor.”
    â€œIt’s true,” Connor said as he gently transferred Roibeard to a perch. “It’s not on the regular menu, so to speak. I’m just going to settle things up with your da if you want to go out, have another look at the hawks.”
    â€œYeah, okay.” He studied Roibeard another moment with eyes filled with love. “Thanks. Thanks, Connor. That was awesome.”
    â€œYou’re more than welcome.” He transferred William as Taylor ran out. “I didn’t want to say in front of the boy, but I might be able to arrange for him to have what we’d call a hawk ride. I’d need to check if Meara can lead your family—she’s a hawker as well as one of the guides at the stables. And if you’d be interested.”
    â€œI haven’t seen Taylor this excited about anything but computer games and music for months. If you can make it happen, that would be great.”
    â€œI’ll see what I can do, if you give me a minute or two.”
    He leaned a hip on the desk when Tom stepped out, took out his phone. “Ah, Meara, my darling, I’ve a special