“Still falling for that, huh?” She shook her head. “See you in Thelantis.”
With a downstroke of her wings, she fluttered into the treetops, leaving him standing open mouthed on the road, his dagger still quivering in the dirt.
That night, Twig took first watch, perched high in a fir tree. But down on the ground, Nox couldn’t sleep. He gingerly tossed another log onto the fire and then scurried back as the flames leaped up.
They’d camped in the lee of a large boulder that lurched out of the ground. The fir tree sprouted atop the rock, its massive roots wrapped around it like a kraken gripping a ship’s prow in its tentacles. Beneath the boulder, Gussie and Ellie curled in the warmth of their wings, sound asleep.
Nox held the blue gem in his hand, turning it slowly so that it caught the firelight. This little rock was the key to changing his life. It was the opportunity he’d been looking for, for years, and he was having difficulty believing it had finally come. But first, he had to make it back to Thelantis, back to the Talon, to deliver the stone and claim his reward.
If you do this, Nox, my boy, the Talon had said that night, if you steal this unstealable thing and bring it back to me, I will give you whatever you desire. Coin, promotions, the life of any who’ve wronged you. A seat in my inner circle if you want …
Anything at all? Nox had replied.
If you bring me the Stoneslayer’s gem, lad, you’ve only to name your prize and it’s yours.
And so Nox had. He’d given voice to the one desire he had above all others, the one so impossible he’d never spoken it aloud until that moment. The Talon had been shocked, but he thought it over, and finally, they’d touched wingtips on it—an unbreakable bargain struck.
Nox’s feathers shivered, thinking of all he had to gain when he made it home. Of how his life would change forever.
But there was a lot of ground between here and there … and a lot of people who’d cut off his wings just to steal this rock.
He sighed and lay back on the cushion of his feathers, knowing he needed to force himself to sleep. He rolled over, trying to get comfortable.
Only to find a pair of eyes glowing at him.
Nox sucked in a breath, frozen to the spot, his wings twitching with the instinct to fly. The two lights gleaming in the underbrush were pale silvery blue, like stars. Was it a wolf? A bear?
But as he stared, more lights began to glow. They winked on all around the campsite, along the tree branches overhead and across the underside of their rock shelter. Nox gasped.
He whirled at the sound of fluttering wings and saw Twig landing on silent feet, his finger pressed to his lips. The glowing beads of light were so numerous and bright now that they shone on his face like moonlight.
“What are they?” whispered Nox.
Twig nudged Gussie with his foot. The girl woke with a groan. “My watch already?”
“Shhh,” warned Twig.
Beside Gussie, Ellie woke at once and exhaled softly in wonder. “What in the sky are those?”
Twig smiled. “Moonmoths. Or their chrysalises anyway. They must be hatching.”
“Moonmoths are real?” asked Ellie. “I thought they were just a figure of speech. You know: Don’t go chasing moonmoths.”
Nox had heard that phrase plenty of times. It meant don’t go chasing foolish hopes, pretty promises that were more likely to lead you off a cliff than to your destination.
“They’re extremely rare,” said Gussie. “By the sky, I’ve never heard of so many in one place! This is a major scientific discov—”
“Shh!” said Twig again, scowling at her. “Stop talking and just look.”
Nox pushed himself on tiptoe to peer closer at one of the chrysalises. It hung by a delicate silken thread, suspended from the bark like a curled-up rose petal with veins of gold. It shone like a tiny, extraordinary lamp. He could just make out the dark form of the moth’s body inside.
He pulled back as a crack suddenly shot over the casing and several thin, spindly legs pried their way free, pulling the rest of the moth through. The body was dark blue and furry, the black eyes large, glinting with intelligence. Wings the width of Nox’s hand glowed silvery blue, the same color as the full moon. Unlike his feathered wings, the moth’s were leaflike and thin, each membrane so fine it seemed a wonder they didn’t tear from the smallest movement. Long tails shot out from their lower curves, the ends slightly feathery. The moth shook itself, glittering dust raining down as it did.
“Incredible,” breathed Ellie, raising her hand to catch the dust on her palm. It glowed faintly on her skin before fading.
“Hmm,” said Nox, trying to look bored. “They’re all right.”
“All right?” said Gussie, rolling her eyes. She reached for a chrysalis. “Don’t pretend like you’re not fascinated, Nox. This will be an amazing specimen for—ouch!”
Twig slapped her hand. “Hands. Off.” He placed himself between her and the chrysalises, arms crossed, jaw jutting.
“There’s hundreds of them!” Gussie protested. “I just want one to study. D’you know what the Entomological Society will pay for one? Nox, back me up. You appreciate a payday, at least.”
Nox watched a newly hatched moonmoth struggle to free itself from its chrysalis, spindly legs grappling with the membrane. Carefully, he reached up and slipped one finger inside, pulling it open so the creature could escape. “Leave them, Gus,” he said softly.
“Fine, fine,” sighed Gussie. “Such a scientific waste, though.”
These creatures looked too … sacred to be bottled or pinned down. Not that he’d ever say a thing like that aloud. It sounded foolish. Dreamy. More like something the Sparrow girl would say.
He glanced at Ellie and caught her staring at him with an amused expression, as if she could read his thoughts. Face warm, he scowled and looked away.
All around, with a sound that reminded Nox of a hand sifting through a basket of seashells, chrysalises were cracking open, moonmoths wriggling out and unfurling their fresh, damp wings. The forest shivered with gleaming new life. Paper-thin wings tested the air, silver dust sprinkling the loam.
The four kids stood utterly silent. Nox had never seen anything so beautiful or strange as this little glen filled with living stars.
A few brave moths took to the air first, fluttering about like dancing candle flames. As if emboldened by their siblings’ first flights, more soon followed, and then the air was full of them. A torrent of moonmoths fluttered all around the trees. One landed on Nox’s arm, its delicate legs tickling his skin. When it lifted away, the movement was effortless.
Nearly all the moths had emerged now. In a swirl of bright wings, the creatures began to gather in the air, forming a spiraling cloud of light that twisted upward. Higher and higher the moths flew, the great column of them rising into the treetops.
Ellie, as if caught in a trance, spread her wings and took flight in pursuit, closely followed by Twig.
“Hey! Come back!” Nox said. But they only flew higher, as if they couldn’t even hear him. “What are you—Gussie, you too?”
The Falcon girl launched upward, wings flapping lazily as she followed the cloud of moths, a hazy look in her eyes.
Nox felt the strange, alluring tug of the moths, as if they were whispering, Follow, follow … But he resisted. This was ridiculous. The whole thing was starting to make him uneasy.
But someone had to make sure those idiots didn’t fly off into the night.
So despite the wrench of pain it sent splintering from his still-healing wound, Nox took off after the others. His dark wings stroked the air with barely a rustle.
They rose through the forest canopy amid the flurry of moths, in a fine rain of silver dust. It was like some mystical ceremony, one that made Nox’s stomach twist with apprehension even as its weird beauty drew him onward and upward.
It was magical, which might have been another way of saying wonderful to anyone else. But to Nox, the word was dangerous. Foolis
h. Impossible. It was the kind of word he avoided. He didn’t like things he couldn’t understand, riddles that had more secrets than answers, pieces that didn’t belong in the practical puzzle of reality.
Ellie, to his lack of surprise, followed the moths right through the trees into the open sky above the forest. Her wings stirred the treetops, lifting her higher, aiming for the stars.
Until Nox grabbed her hand and pulled her back.
He, Gussie, and Twig stood on the highest, slim branch of an oak, heads above the trees, but Ellie struggled against him, trying to pull free, completely entranced.
“Wake up, Sparrow,” Nox said firmly. “Don’t go chasing moonmoths, remember?”
Ellie blinked. Slowly, she sank down, to stand beside him on the branch. “But … where are they going?”
The moths soared upward, nearly blending into the stars. The farther away they got, the more they looked like a faint silver cloud drifting across the night sky. And still even Nox’s wings twitched, longing to follow them, though he resisted the urge. So the whole don’t go chasing moonmoths thing wasn’t just a turn of phrase, he reckoned. How easy it would be to simply trail after them into that dark, dangerous sky, forgetting every care, every worry, every painful memory … up until the moment a gargol sank its claws into you.
“No one knows where they go,” said Gussie. “That’s the big mystery of moonmoths, and it’s why they’re so rare. You’ll only ever see a live one when it emerges from its chrysalis. Once they fly off into the night, they’re never seen again. Those who tried to follow them ended up, well …”
She didn’t have to finish that sentence.
Nox peered into the dark but found only stars. The glowing creatures may as well have melted into the sky like smoke.
For several minutes, no one spoke. Twig’s cheeks were damp with tears he didn’t seem to know were there.
“Well,” said Nox at last. “That was fun. Back to bed.”
“Your shoulder!” Ellie said. “You flew all the way up here—”
“It’s fine.” He shrugged, then immediately regretted the movement as a spasm of pain shot across his chest. “Mostly, anyway.”
He waited until Gussie and Ellie had flown down, just to be sure neither would turn around and try to chase the moths again. Then he turned to Twig.
“Want me to finish your watch?”
“No. I couldn’t sleep now anyway. Not after that.”
“Just don’t go after them, okay? A gargol would snap you like a, well, twig, skinny as you are.”
Back on the ground, Nox found Gussie already fast asleep, spread haphazardly across the leaves.
“Wow,” he said. “She was tired.”
“Mmmtired,” said Ellie. “Mmmhmm.”
“What?” Nox turned around to see the Sparrow girl yawning, her hand fumbling for a tree to support herself. Her eyes were half lidded, her freckled wings dragging on the ground.
“Jusssleeepy … Nox …”
She collapsed beside Gussie and began to snore, one hand flung wide, the other over her face.
Nox stared. He slapped a hand to his neck, feeling the bite of a mosquito, then knelt beside Ellie’s and Gussie’s prone forms.
“Are you two messing with me?” he asked. “Because thasssnot … thasss …”
His tongue thickened in his mouth. His thoughts began to swim. A wave of sleepiness overwhelmed him and he swayed. The world tilted around him, his head slamming into the ground and his wings going limp, unfurled on the leaves. Nox had the wits to raise the hand he’d slapped the mosquito with.
Only it wasn’t a mosquito on his fingers. It was a tiny, feathered dart.
Nox dropped it with a vague feeling of horror, then yawned.
“Oh … thasssnot … so good …” he sighed, and then he fell deeply, terribly asleep.
“We’re missing one.”
“The general said bring back three—and we got three.”
Ellie worked her tongue, her mouth gritty and dry. The voices above her sounded wobbly, and she really had to pee. Also, there was something hard jabbing into her back, but she was only distantly aware of it. A soft, relaxed feeling spread through her, as if she were floating in a calm pond.
“But the little orange-headed one—”
“I swear, Tholomew, if you bring it up one more time, I’ll knock you so hard your nose’ll never pop rightways out again. It’d be an improvement on your overall look, anyway.”
“Well, now you’re just being mean, Bratton. And I did see an orange-headed one when they dropped that skunk bomb on us. Went blazing past me like a fire demon, he did.”
One of the voices got louder, as if the speaker were walking toward her. “I am not tramping all’s over this forest for some fire demon.” Something prodded Ellie’s hip—a boot, she reckoned. “Why’re the brats still out? How much gumroot did you dose ’em with, you axe-brained lump?”
Gumroot. She remembered the herb from her studies with the Linden healer. It was powerful stuff. Its leaf was an effective pain reliever, while the root could be sleep-inducing in concentrated amounts. The guards—she still wasn’t sure how many there were—must have sneaked up on the campsite while they were in the treetops, and drugged the kids with darts when they’d landed.
But Twig had gotten away. Who else could be the orange-haired fire demon the soldier meant?
Not that he could be much help against full-grown soldiers. No, there was nothing for it now but to be hauled away and thrown in prison forever. Stealing was one thing; stealing from a top-ranking general and bombing his fortress with pepper-and-skunk spray no doubt carried a life sentence.
Before she could stop herself, Ellie groaned in dismay, catching the guards’ attention.
“Here we go!” said the one who’d prodded her. “Rise and shine and sing for us, you thieving little pustules.”
No point in faking it anymore. She pried open her eyes one at a time and blinked at the soldiers.
There were two of them. The nearer one, a Falcon with a full beard tied in double braids, grinned at her with crooked yellow teeth. The other one she at first mistook for two people as her eyes adjusted to the light, but no, he was just one man, so broad and tall he took up the space of two. He looked sulky, and was toying with the flinter from Gussie’s pack, trying to figure out how it worked. His sharply patterned wings marked him as a member of the Harrier clan. They were still at the campsite beneath the big rock.
“Where is it, Sparrow?” the Falcon asked. “The quicker you talk, the less we clip.”
Confused, Ellie started to ask what he meant but then she saw them: the pair of scissors in his hand.
“N-no!” she managed to gasp, trying to wriggle away as he reached for her wing. But her hands and legs were bound, and she bumped into the sharp thing behind her—Gussie’s elbow, it turned out. The other girl was still unconscious, bound behind Ellie. Nox lay above her, and as she struggled to pull her wings out of the soldier’s reach, she saw one of Nox’s dark eyes open and fix on her.
“Be still!” ordered the soldier. “You’ll not be flying for a while anyway, where you’re going. Don’t make it harder than it has to be.”
“Don’t touch me!” Ellie snarled. She kicked with her bound feet, swiping the soldier’s ankles. He fell with a shout, and the scissors sailed from his grip—impaling the soil just inches from Ellie’s nose.
While the sulky one burst into laughter, the one Ellie had kicked sprang up again and seized her left wing, forcefully expanding it and grabbing his shears.
“You’ll regret that!” he seethed. He held the blades open, high around Ellie’s primary feathers. Her blood curdled. A slight clip could hamper her flight, slowing Ellie and making her clumsy in the air. A high clip would ground her entirely. It’d be years before she could fly again. Clipped feathers didn’t grow back. You had to either pull them out—which was extremely painful—or wait till they molted. Then the new feathers could grow in, but that took months and mont
hs.
A test of courage proves the knight’s heart, she recited desperately to herself. It was one of her favorite lines from The King’s Ladder. But if this was a test, she felt she was failing it badly. She didn’t feel courageous at all—only terrified.
“Please!” she cried at last. “Don’t! He has it! The Crow boy—he’s got the gemstone!”
Now Nox’s other eye opened, and he gave her a disappointed shake of his head.
“Really?” he muttered. “Less than a minute and you crack?”
Ellie glared back. She wasn’t about to sacrifice her wings so some thief could get away with his crime.
But instead of letting go of her to search Nox, the soldier only raised the scissors a few inches higher on her wing. “We already searched the three of you. We know you haven’t got the skystone on you, so where is it?”
“I don’t know!” Ellie said, tears swimming in her eyes. “Honestly!”
“We sold it,” Nox said as calmly as if they were all sitting around the fire sharing a pot of tea.
The soldier’s grip on the scissors relaxed a bit, and Ellie released a sob of relief.
“Sold it?” the man echoed.
“Yes,” said Nox. “To a traveler on the road. A high clanner and his mates, couple of Hawks, Falcons, and an Oriole.”
Oh skies, thought Ellie. Nox was telling the soldier about Zain! He described them exactly the way Ellie had when she’d told him about the group on the road yesterday. She could picture it in horrifying detail—the soldiers chasing down her fellow Lindeners, questioning them, mentioning a certain Sparrow girl …
She opened her mouth to tell them Nox was lying … then stopped.
His lie, after all, had kept the soldier from clipping her wings, at least for now.
“They saw us with it,” said Nox. With a grunt of effort, he pushed himself onto his knees, shaking leaves and dirt from his dark wings. “And, well, I don’t have to tell you what high clans are like. You type want the shiniest of everything. So I sold it to them, cheaper than I’d have liked, but then there’s not much room for negotiation when some Hawk clan lout’s got you pinned against a tree.”
Sparrow Rising Page 8