The thing that settled onto his hand had the appearance of a large falcon – until you looked again, and realised it was an elaborate construction made of brass, with wings made of metal and a dizzying complexity of spinning gear mills inside its body.

It folded its wings neatly and locked eyes with Hawkeye, uttering a lower, self-satisfied cry. He looked uncertain for a second, then made a shrill, whistling reply. The mechanical bird half-opened its wings and looked at Hawkeye, who nodded.

Elletra’s mouth fell open.

“You speak Hawk?”

He had the decency to look a little embarrassed.

“It’s,” he hesistated, “a family thing. Did you think they called me Hawkeye without a good reason?”

“No, but I thought the emphasis was on the “eye” part!"

He shrugged, suppressing a smile.

“I’m going to take this message somewhere… a bit quieter. You coming?”