A FALCON TURNED SLOWLY IN the cold air, its arcs becoming wider and higher with each pass it made over the corpse.
It rose above the cobbled lanes and leaning houses and flew north, past the bare trees whose roots cracked the sidewalks on most of Lichport’s crumbling streets. It could see the river in the distance ahead. Then, as though it had changed its mind, the bird banked, and flew back the way it had come. It circled once more far above...