Page 28 of Jude

The eagle let out another soft, resonant call, remaining still by my side.

Why was I still alive? Why did I survive when my parents hadn’t?

An agonizing grief burrowed into me as I stared into the blackness of the valley.

Yet as I gazed into those fierce amber eyes, the crushing terror of my isolation began to lift just a fraction.

It felt like a tiny piece of heaven’s protection flew down to sit in the tree with me.

For nine hours, through the pitch-black freezing rain, that bird stayed on the limb.

Its massive frame blocked the worst of the mountain wind from my face while I wept for my parents.

As the first gray streaks of dawn illuminated the flooded valley, the Bonelli’s hawk-eagle stretched its neck and unleashed a piercing cry that echoed across the water.

A hundred yards away, a red motorized rescue zodiac rounded the bend, the crew chief steering the boat toward the sound of the bird’s call.

‘Over there!’ a man shouted, pointing his flashlight at our tree. ‘There’s a child on the branch!’

The rescuers maneuvered the rubber hull close to the trunk.

I dropped straight into the extended arms of a volunteer paramedic, the thick canvas of his life vest scraping my cheek.

As the motor puttered into reverse, I turned my head to watch the great bird launch from the bough, its powerful muscles propelling it into the morning sky.

In flight, it formed an imposing silhouette, its long wings and tail fanning out against the backdrop of the clouds.

It showed off a deep blackish coloration across its back, a rich pale belly, and striking whitish plume feathers that caught the early sun from below.

‘Guarda quello,’ the paramedic muttered, wiping the river water from his brow as he stared upward. ‘That’s an aquila del Bonelli. It’s rare to see one in this valley. What a magnificent creature.’

‘That was my friend,’ I whispered, clutching the dry blanket they wrapped around my shoulders as the boat sped away toward the safety of the high ground.

While my heart ached for my parents, I held on to the inexplicable, winged comfort from my long-gone winged protector.

SOFIA, Present Day

I woke with a start at the knock on my door, my mind whirling as I jolted from my nightmare.

My chest was heaving, still rocked by the vivid, terrifying dream, one that always visited me when I was either very tired or under great stress.

‘Sofia, you OK?’

I shook my head, befuddled, struggling to make sense of where I was.

It took more knocking and the timbred burr calling my name one more time for me to knife up in bed.

I took a deep breath in, reorienting myself.

Light spilled through a crack between the thick curtains, telling me it was morning.

Glancing around me, I remembered I was in Jude’s mother’s house.

I was not at the mercy of Luisa and the Compagni capos.

I was safe.

‘Talk to me, Sofia, I heard you screaming,’ came Jude’s rasp, and I lurched, realizing I hadn’t yet responded to him.