“Is this the only room?” Ray said when Ahel showed him where he’d be staying.

The two of them had shared a late dinner and were only now getting ready for bed. Ray had decided he would be staying for a few days, not just one night.

“Yes, there is only one room in my house,” she answered indifferently, not giving an emotional reaction to his question.

The room was so tiny that the entire place could be encompassed by a single glance through the door. This really is tiny, Ray thought. 

But to Ahel, it was a comfortable, cosy space.

He didn’t complain half as much as she thought he would. He just gazed around the room he’d be staying in before he said, “Your home is small, and this room is tiny; so is the bed.” It was obvious from the tone of his voice that he was disappointed. He looked around the room once more before his eyes fell on Ahel’s bed.

Ahel followed his gaze. She heard him mumble, “So I really don’t have much of a choice…” As strange as the situation was to him, it seemed that Ray had accepted it. Something feels odd, Ahel thought as she nodded to him when he looked at her. The strangest sense of déjá vu had just come over her.

“If there’s only one bed, then is there only one blanket?” Ray asked blandly, with a passive expression on his face. It seemed like an honest question.

Ahel could see he was starting to look doubtful about their sleeping arrangements. She glanced at him and said, “I may only have one room and one bed, but I do have two blankets. Just relax. Everything is sorted.”

Ray gave a nod and the tense lines on his face eased. “Then I think I’ll head to bed.”

“That’s fine,” Ahel replied.

After the brief, awkward conversation, Ray closed the bedroom door.

Ahel stood staring at it for a while, then went to the closet and took down the extra blanket. She carried it back to the small living room and sat down on the sofa. She tossed the blanket over her legs, then stretched out. Thankfully, the sofa was big enough for her to lay down comfortably, even though her toes hung ever so slightly over the edge.

She heaved a sigh as she relaxed against the deceptively soft material. Perhaps it was because she was exhausted, or perhaps it was because the sofa was softer than she remembered, but she was soon enveloped by the dark embrace of sleep.

***

The house was silent. The only sound was Ahel’s deep, sleepy breathing. Then there was a squeak. It was loud enough in the stillness of the house to wake her. It was the sound of mattress springs straining under the weight of a much heavier body than hers. She had bought a good mattress, but a good mattress only went so far when it came to weight.

Ahel’s eyes flew open at the sound. Her previously relaxed body tensed, and she quietened her breathing. What is that?

Now wide awake, she strained her ears to hear where the sound was coming from, and more importantly, what it was. She realised it was the sound of Ray getting out of bed, followed closely by the sound of something clicking as it unlocked. It sounded like Ray had opened the bedroom window.

What is he up to? Ahel found it suspicious that he would wake up and simply decide to open a window. She went motionless as she listened; then she heard a loud screech, like the sound of something tearing. Her heart started thudding her chest, but she couldn’t help but feel a little curious.

She was still confused by what the hell he would do when he was supposed to be asleep, and then she heard the click again. The first click must have been when he opened the window, now he must have closed it.

There was a brief moment of silence, and then the same squeaking sound that had woken Ahel started again. It sounded like he had gone back to bed. She couldn’t just ignore all the strange sounds. She wanted to find out what was happening.

If he had gotten hot, there would have been the squeak of him getting up, the click of him opening the window and then the squeak of him getting back into bed. There wouldn’t have been that awful screeching sound as well. What the hell was that?

It sounded like one of those small flutes falconers often used to call their hawks. But as curious as she was, Ahel didn’t feel like getting up to go check. She clapped her hands over her ears and groaned, but try as she might, she couldn’t go back to sleep.

***

Ray lay awake waiting for Ahel to go to sleep. Once the house fell silent, he slowly sat up. The mattress made a ridiculous squeaking sound, but it was so soft an ordinary person wouldn’t hear it if they were sound asleep.

He got out the bed, which fit him surprisingly well, and carefully looked around the room. Once he was certain there was nothing unusual, he walked carefully to the other side of the room towards the window. He cautiously lifted the latch, trying his hardest not to make a noise. Once the cool night air touched his face, he stuck his hand into his pants pocket and took out a small whistle. It was an instrument usually used for training hawks. He blew into it, listening to the familiar screeching sound. Then he waited.

When the sound of the flute had rung to silence, a brilliant hawk flew into the room, twisting and turning like an arrow loosed from a bow. It had recognized the sound and came at its master’s call.

It did a few elegant laps around the room, obviously looking for a place to land. Ray reached out and tapped the windowsill.

The bird looped around in the air and sailed down to the perch on the sill. It was perfectly trained, highly obedient, and the picture of a perfect predator. Its sharp claws and hooked beak glimmered threateningly in the moonlight.

Ray reached out and ran his finger over the bird’s chest. By the way it was subtly flapping its wings and the small noises it was making, it was enjoying the attention. Content for the moment, with the hawk sitting in the windowsill beside him, Ray stared out the window into the night.