Taken By Turquoise

Chapter 1

Soundtrack for Episode:

Would it be too risky to eat him?

Desert sun beat on Rincón, warming her chocolate brown feathers almost to the point of discomfort. It was an unusually hot day for spring in the Sonoran desert, and after five hours of selling at the market, her patience was waning. She stared at the tiny grey and brown sparrow flitting around her gemstone display and tried not to grind her beak in frustration.

The Prime Rule prevented birds from killing one another for purposes of food or entertainment, and larger birds from killing smaller ones for any reason other than self-defense. Even here, where laws were suggestions at best, she didn't dare kill and eat the supremely irritating sparrow. It would be bad for business, at the very least, and at the very worst she would die at the talons of a vigilante mob. So she banished the fantasy and refocused on her customer.

"My mate, see, she's super picky. Do these gemstones come in pink? She loves pink."

Rincón resisted a snort, "That gemstone is turquoise, sir. It comes in blue and green."

"What about purple?"

"No. Again, just blue and green."

"And you don't have anything else pink or purple?"

"My mine produces three gemstones. Peridot, which is green, quartz, which is clear or white, and turquoise, which as I already mentioned is blue or green. That's it. You'll have to look elsewhere for pink and purple."

The sparrow huffed, "You're the only one here with gemstones today."

"That does make it more challenging."

"Does anyone else come to the market with better colors? I can come back tomorrow."

Rincón bit back a hiss. She deliberately came to sell at the market on Thursdays, because that was Picante's day off. The roadrunner represented a much larger mining operation than Rincón, and Rincón hated competing when she was almost guaranteed to lose.

She was most certainly not going to tell the sparrow that Picante sold purple amethyst.

"Not to my knowledge. If you want a hatching gift for your mate, these are your choices."

The sparrow continued deliberating and Rincón looked around, restless. She was the only specialty vendor today. There was usually an Acorn Woodpecker who sold novelty cactus carvings, but she had a nest of new chicks to feed. Past the entrance of the shallow cave that composed the market, Rincón could see the typical crowd of vendors-Harris's Hawks like herself offering bodyguard and hunting services, one Bald Eagle who specialized in construction, American Kestrels waiting to send messages, various House Sparrows and Gamble's Quail offering fruit and other plants, and a whole flock of Woodhouse's Scrub-Jays waiting to share local news and gossip. Some stood over blankets of wares, a few carried small baskets or packs, and others perched on the craggy walls of the cave.

It had been a quiet day at the market, but that was normal for spring. Many birds were busy rearing chicks this time of year. Food was also more plentiful, meaning less individuals relied on the market to sustain them. Come summer it would be harder for those with a trade, like Rincón, to find time both to practice their craft and find enough food to survive. The market would be full then, and hopefully business would be better.