goats, and standing together in a herd like them as well. They were grazing, completely oblivious to her presence.
Saekrae did not pause to wonder what they were. She singled out one that was on the edge of the group, hovered above it for a while to pinpoint her target, and then dropped out of the sky like a stone. She hit the animal directly in the back, her talons shattering its spine before they hooked themselves into its flesh, and then she swooped straight up again, carrying it with her. The weight of it dragged her down and she lurched in the air, struggling to keep hold of it. It was heavier than she had expected. She held on grimly to the dying animal and turned back toward the valley.
She made it after an exhausting and unpleasant journey, and shot back over the mountaintop very gratefully. She reached the nest and dumped the now-dead animal in the bottom, and then settled down on a branch beside it and folded her wings.
The chicks had hatched by now, all three of them, and were already on their paws and alert. Two of them were grey and brown like herself—one male, one female. The third was black. The fine downy fluff on its front half was grey over black skin, and its hindquarters had jet-black fur. Its big heavy-lidded eyes were silver, and its beak and forelegs were also black. It fell on the prey almost instantly, tearing at it with its beak, and its siblings were quick to join in. Saekrae tore into the animal’s flank and began to eat . . . there was plenty for all of them. The animal had a lot of meat on it; evidently it had been well fed out on the plains. Its flesh was tender and had a rich flavour, and Saekrae could feel her strength returning with every beakful.
Once she had eaten and the chicks had had their fill, she settled down to sleep with her wing spread over them to protect them. A hard time was beginning for her, but she was not afraid. She could find food now, and there was plenty of it. Everything would be all right.
The chicks grew well. The black one was the strongest of the three, and the most vigorous. Its voice was loudest and it had the best appetite. It was more than happy to bully its siblings, too, and take the best share of the food Saekrae brought. She did nothing to stop it. It was always the way for one chick to be stronger than the others.
She did not give the chicks names, either. Chicks as young as they were rarely all survived to a year old, and it was bad luck to name them too soon.
Saekrae persisted in trying to find food within the valley for a time, but rarely found anything, and in the end she took to going out onto the plains to hunt. It was a good strategy. There was always prey to be found there: big, rich, good-tasting prey. She quickly regained her health and strength, and the chicks thrived. They grew and strengthened, their babyish fluff slowly giving way to proper fur and feathers. The black chick’s unusually coloured coat showed no sign of changing; its coarsening fur remained black, and the feathers on its front half were metallic silver. The pointed tufts of feathers that grew over its ears proclaimed it to be male, and Saekrae had no doubt that he would be a powerful adult some day. But it would be a long time before he or his siblings were completely independent. Still, Saekrae had no doubt that with this new source of food she could rear them to adulthood.
And then, quite suddenly, it wasn’t there any more. She flew over the plains again, headed for the spot where the prey always gathered, and it wasn’t there. When she ranged further she still found nothing. The landscape began to change: there were patches of trees here and there, and strange outcrops of rock poking up out of the soil. They were oddly shaped and did not look like any rocks she had seen before. Plants grew here that she did not recognise. But there was no food. Eventually, hungry and exhausted, she was forced to fly back. Griffins were not built for long-distance flying, and if she went on she would be too tired to get back to the valley.