Wingborn

by Becca Lusher

  Eleven

  Tests

  25th Sun

  “IS THAT YOU, MHYSRA?”

  Exiting the servant’s stairway, Mhysra froze, cursing herself for forgetting that her mother’s office was at this end of the house. Until now it hadn’t mattered. Besides, it was still early on the morning after the ball – most people would still be abed. Or most normal people, anyway.

  “We must talk.”

  Knowing that she had no other choice, Mhysra walked into her mother’s gloomy study. Never a big room, it was made smaller by stacks of papers on the shelves, desk, chairs and floor. Despite its haphazard appearance it was all meticulously ordered. Lady Kilpapan would tolerate nothing less.

  “Sit down.” Her mother indicated the chair in front of the desk. As Mhysra shifted a stack of papers, the countess eyed her critically. “You intend to visit the eyries?”

  Perching carefully on the cleared seat, Mhysra raised her chin. “I see Cumulo every day,” she said, folding her hands in her lap. “And fly whenever I can.”

  Lady Kilpapan narrowed her eyes at Mhysra’s flying breeches. “Do you always visit the eyries dressed like that?”

  Mhysra licked her lips, thinking fast. “The eyries are dusty in the summer. It would be a shame to get my riding dress dirty when no one is there to see me.” Inspiration struck and she plucked at her worn shirt. “No one minds if these old things of Kilai’s get messy.”

  Lady Kilpapan studied her daughter’s outfit. “When you say that no one sees you dressed so scandalously, that’s not quite true, is it?”

  Mhysra’s heart thumped, but she tried not to let her unease show. She was so close, surely she wouldn’t be discovered now. There was only a month of the selection school left.

  “The eyries are always full of Riders, and even if they aren’t everyone assumes that they will be. You endanger your reputation every time you step outside dressed so. Endanger the reputation of the entire family. Have you no care for your sister?”

  Relief collided with anger as Mhysra’s heart pounded. So they were back to this. “I have yet to be recognised, mother. I do not believe the risk is so very great.”

  “Since you were raised in Wrentheria, I shall let your naivety pass. From now on, you will wear a riding costume whenever you go to the eyries or you shall not go at all. Is that clear?”

  Mhysra stared at the wall over her mother’s shoulder, not daring to open her mouth lest she succumb to the urge to make some things of her own clear.

  “Mhysra?” her mother repeated, voice hard. “Your aunt raised you to be wilful and your father has done nothing to curb these tendencies in you, but I will not stand for it. I asked you a question and I expect to be answered. You will wear a riding costume when you visit the eyries, is that clear?”

  Gritting her teeth, she muttered, “Yes, my lady.”

  “Good.” Lady Kilpapan nodded stiffly. Mhysra shifted on her uncomfortable chair, awaiting the dismissal she prayed would come – before her rein on her temper slipped.

  Picking up a quill, Lady Kilpapan straightened the ruffled edges. “We must seem strict after Wrentheria, especially when you have set your heart on something. If you had been raised in the city you would have immediately accepted our answer, if you had dared ask at all. This is not entirely your fault. You are not yet used to our ways. However, as your parents it is our right to make decisions about your future without explanation. But perhaps we should have made the effort nonetheless.”

  Mhysra watched her mother’s neat hands – always controlled, always still – fidget about her desk, straightening papers, aligning ledgers, shifting quills and ink pots. Her mother was nervous. It was not a comforting realisation.

  “To you, a child raised to be independent and wilful, a life in the Rift Riders must seem a natural choice for a girl who has spent so much time amongst miryhls. Why shouldn’t you join? Your brother did and he’s the heir.” When Mhysra stared at her, surprised, Lady Kilpapan smiled. “I understand your thoughts, Mhysra, but you do not understand mine.

  “As I’m sure you will recall, your father was not keen for Kilai to follow this path. He wanted his heir to learn the workings of the earldom and the family business. Kilai was to unite our assets into one, re-forging the name of Kilpapan. But patriotic duty is important and Kilai’s noble intentions could not be denied. True, there is no other son to follow him, but we have two daughters, and the families of Kilpapan and Wrentherin have no shortage of intelligence.

  “Your sister, whether you are aware of it or not, has spent the last three years learning about the earldom from your father. This is why she has yet to marry. In time she will make the match she deserves, but she will still be a Kilpapan and the earldom will always have her to rely on. She knows her duty.

  “And you, my youngest, have your own duties to attend to.” When Mhysra opened her mouth to state that her duty was to Cumulo, her mother held up a hand. “You are a Kilpapan, Mhysra, and your duty is to the family. Many daughters marry to fulfil that duty, as will you, but you will also learn about the business. When I retire, you will succeed me.”

  Mhysra blinked. “You wish me to go into trade? To deal with men daily? To spend months on skyships with them in the middle of nowhere? And this would be different to a life in the Riders how?”

  The quill in her mother’s hand snapped. “Let me be blunt, daughter, your life is with your family. If you wish to keep Cumulo, you will accept this. If you persist in this foolishness, I will send him back to Wrentheria. Or,” she added when Mhysra opened her mouth, “to Aquila. You say they are short of miryhls. They will not turn him away.”

  Mhysra’s nails dug into her palms as she fought the urge to correct her mother. To do so would reveal her secrets. After this conversation, she realised she didn’t dare. True, she didn’t believe anyone would ever succeed in taking Cumulo away from her, but she couldn’t risk them trying. He might get hurt and she would never forgive herself.

  Eyeing her daughter’s tight expression, Lady Kilpapan nodded in satisfaction. “Life aboard a skyship differs greatly from the Rift Riders. Yes, some families view a life in trade as demeaning, but their fortunes are fading. Their power wanes and they will soon sink beneath the clouds like the setting sun. Those of intelligence know trade is the only way forward, so your reputation will not suffer. Merchant skyships, unlike the Rift Riders, have always had a place for women. True, that has only recently expanded from the galley to the crew, but there are female captains now. There is no shame for a woman in a fleet. Especially not in mine.

  “My ships have very strict rules,” she continued firmly. “There are no romances. Life is too close upon a skyship to allow for such complications. Our fleet is not alone in maintaining this standard, so it is deemed eminently respectable for a young woman.

  “Life in the Rift Riders is not. How can it be when women have only just been readmitted? Who knows what measures will be put in place to watch over them? As for Aquila, to keep so many young men and women in close quarters away from the guiding and restraining influence of society is asking for trouble. It does not matter how chaste or well behaved they are, rumours will fly faster than any miryhl. So many young persons from all tiers of life are bound to have an adverse affect on the morals of the entire group.” The countess sniffed, as if the prospect of such a diverse mixture was unpleasant to her. “What might be acceptable for dock workers or the middle classes will never be acceptable for you.

  “You are a Wrentherin and a Kilpapan,” she reiterated, as if Mhysra could ever forget. “Your lineage is noble and your bloodline impeccable – your reputation must remain pure. It will not be wasted on the eyries. Your father and I will not allow you to throw everything away so foolishly. Your place is in Nimbys, learning about the fleet until you marry or I begin your apprenticeship. That is the duty you bleat so earnestly about. This is the life you were born to. The sooner you accept that, the happier we all will be.”

  Mhysra stared at the counte
ss, barely able to take in what she had just been told. This was the life they had planned for her, these people who abandoned her to be raised at Wrentheria. Part of her was pleased that they had such faith in her, but she also knew this wasn’t a choice based on any knowledge of her wants, wishes or abilities. She could be as dumb as dirt and they would still force her into this. Because Kilai wasn’t here. Her brother had been granted his freedom, so his sisters had to pay the price.

  No.

  However, she was not so foolish as to say that, no matter how much the word scrabbled inside her, trying to force its way out. Instead she rose from her chair and curtsied. “You do me too much honour, my lady.”

  Lady Kilpapan smiled. “You are learning, child. In time you will be fit to take my place.”

  Mhysra felt sick. “May I be excused?”

  “Of course.” Lady Kilpapan nodded graciously. “You will wish to change before your morning lessons with your sister.”

  Taking deep breaths, Mhysra walked from the room, when every instinct screamed to run to Cumulo, to let him soothe her and remind her of all that was good in the world. Mindful of her mother’s threats, however, she returned to her room and picked out her most expensive – and despised – riding dress, pulling it on over her uniform. Only then did she leave.

  Derrain’s eyebrows rose when he saw her. “Did the Midsummer ball turn you into a proper lady?”

  Conscious that her mother’s office overlooked the mews where he stood waiting, Mhysra forced a smile. “How droll you are, Derrain. Will you accompany me to the eyries?”

  Staring at her as though she’d grown a second head, he looked back at the house. When he saw the countess watching them from the window, he sucked in a breath and hurriedly offered his arm. “If you’ll do me the honour, my lady.”

  Tucking her arm through his, she ducked her head and dragged him away from the house. “Quickly, Derry, if you don’t mind. I can’t bear it here another moment.”

  As soon as they were out of her mother’s sight, Derry wrapped an arm about her shoulders. “Does she know?”

  “Not yet,” she whispered, leaning against his chest, grateful for his strength.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not yet,” she repeated, anger stirring at the memory. “I couldn’t without screaming.”

  He tightened his grip. “Let’s go see Cumulo. And be thankful that she leaves tomorrow.”

  Wiping her sleeve across her eyes, she took his arm again and matched his swift pace. “I thank Maegla for that,” she whispered. “Every single day.”

  32nd Sun

  “YOU ARE ONE of the luckiest people I know.”

  Blinking, Mhysra looked up from preening Cumulo. Corin leant against an empty perch beside them, eyes closed, basking in a shaft of sunlight.

  At the silence, her friend opened her bright eyes and smiled. “Well, you are.”

  Mhysra shook her head and returned to work. “I have advantages, but I’m not lucky.”

  “Why not?” Corin asked, watching the Riders arrive for their patrol. It was Starday and, despite being a free day for most, Rider duty never stopped. However, when Theryn didn’t appear she lost interest. “Look what you have.” She waved an arm, which Cumulo seized in his beak.

  “Cue,” Mhysra warned, and he let go with a snort. “Sorry.”

  Corin grinned. “Serves me right for waving it in his face, eh, Cue?”

  Though fond of his reputation for being too arrogant to acknowledge lesser mortals, Cumulo occasionally condescended to notice certain people. Of Mhysra’s new friends his favourites were definitely Dhori and Corin, so he gave a regal nod.

  Mhysra poked him and glared at Corin. “Don’t encourage him. All the attention he’s had since we arrived has gone to his head. He’ll think himself a god next.”

  “He didn’t hurt me,” Corin protested on the miryhl’s behalf.

  “But he might have.”

  Cumulo crackled his beak, swinging his head around to nudge her. “I’m not an idiot,” he grumbled softly enough for only her to hear.

  “Be more tolerant,” she chided. “You can’t be grouchy when we’re Riders. Other people will need to touch you from time to time.”

  “Not if they thump me in the face,” he muttered, and she tickled his crest.

  “Just be careful, please.”

  “I’m always careful.” Turning away, he stuck his head under his wing to sulk.

  Corin watched the exchange with a smile. “Lucky.”

  “What? Because I’ve been tied to this grump my whole life?” She yanked out a bent feather and stumbled as the reflexive twitch of Cumulo’s wing knocked her sideways. “Believe me, there are nicer miryhls out there. I’ve met them.”

  “Lucky,” Corin said again. “You had a dream childhood. And whatever you say about Cue, I know you don’t mean it. If he was that bad half the Riders wouldn’t have tried stealing him away.”

  Cumulo’s head came up and he puffed out his chest. When he nudged Mhysra, fishing for compliments, she gave him a shove. “They only want him for his looks. And yes, growing up at Wrentheria was a dream – I’m not disputing that. But that’s where I was born, and Cumulo’s part of that.”

  “So what’s not lucky about turning old enough just in time for the proclamation?” Corin asked slyly, picking up a feather from the floor and stroking it straight.

  “That had nothing to do with me,” Mhysra protested as Cumulo hopped onto a low perch, putting his legs at waist level. “And you’re here too. Does that make you lucky?”

  “I’ve always been lucky,” Corin agreed, blowing the feather into the air. “Just not as lucky as you. Can I help?”

  Knowing she wasn’t going to win this argument, Mhysra handed her friend a cloth. “Use this on his talons. I’ll do his legs – the oil needs to be applied by hand and it stinks.”

  “Wow.” Corin bent to study Cumulo’s huge talons. Despite needing a clean the golden claws glinted, the edges sharp and deadly. “Remind me never to offend a miryhl.”

  Cumulo chuckled and shifted his feet, while Mhysra poured oil into her palm and rubbed it between her hands. “Good advice. Most calm down once they’re bonded, but there are always ones with short tempers.”

  “Like people,” Corin agreed, oiling the cloth and setting to work. Dust and grime smeared away as she rubbed in small circles, revealing the translucent shine beneath. “Is this right?”

  Cumulo arched his neck and nodded.

  “You’re a natural,” Mhysra agreed, tugging loose feathers from where they were caught on the rough skin of Cumulo’s legs and cursing when they stuck to her sticky fingers.

  Coming to her rescue, Corin also removed some fluff from her braid. “Thanks for letting me help.”

  “It’s good practise. For you and Cue. He needs to get used to being tended by others.”

  Cumulo made a sound of protest and engulfed her under a wing, tucking her head and shoulders against his side.

  Chuckling, Corin pulled her free. “I never knew how much care they needed. You hear stories about them talking, being created by Maegla and being as intelligent as us and all, so I always assumed they could look after themselves.”

  “Of course they can,” Mhysra said, while Cumulo squawked at the slight. “Like any wild eagle, miryhls are perfectly capable of looking after themselves. But the rigours of Rider work mean they deserve extra care. Like horsats and pyreflies. Besides I like looking after him and it’s a good way to strengthen the bond.

  “As Lieutenant Lyrai says –” Mhysra cleared her throat and adopted a lecturing tone, “ – the form of a weapon is only half its strength. Without care the edge dulls and it will let you down in a thousand ways. A miryhl is a Rider’s first and most formidable weapon.” The bird gave another disgruntled squawk, and she chuckled. “Not that Cumulo would let me down, but oiling his claws every half-moon helps prevent cracks and keeps them strong. Preening the parts he can’t reach easily also makes h
im more comfortable. They’re just little things here and there, but they add up.”

  “I’d never have thought of these things on my own,” Corin said admiringly, shaking her head as she moved onto Cumulo’s left foot. “You’re a useful girl to have around.”

  “Not all of us think so.” Lieutenant Stirla chuckled as they both jumped, startled to find him behind them “Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing.” He lounged against a perch, a bridle draped over his shoulder. Across the aisle, Atyrn ruffled her feathers in preparation for being taken out. She gave them a regal nod, looking glossier than ever, eyes bright, beak shining.

  “All the miryhls are grateful Lady Mhysra showed up,” Stirla continued. “Cumulo likes to talk, so no Rider gets any peace these days. It’s all nag, nag, nag. Preen me, bathe me, oil me, feed me more.”

  Mhysra hid her face against Cumulo and mumbled something apologetic about baby miryhls and demanding natures.

  The lieutenant chuckled. “It’s a good thing, mostly, and it does help with the bond. I know my Atyrn appreciates the extra attention.” He crossed to his miryhl and she crooned in welcome.

  Corin sighed wistfully. “I don’t know if I can wait another month.”

  “It’ll pass quickly,” Stirla promised, slipping the bridle over Atyrn’s beak. “You’ve already waited six moons. Not that any of you know enough to pick a miryhl yet. Most pairs muddle along and by the end of their time at Aquila they’re familiar enough. No one gets a perfect match right off, except those two.”

  Mhysra and Cumulo snorted in unison. “Right off?” she contested. “We’ve been paired for sixteen years. We grew up together. We’re not a match, we’re family.”

  “You make that sound like a bad thing,” Stirla chuckled, slipping Atyrn’s saddle into place.

  “Do you have brothers, sir?”

  “No.”

  “Sisters?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Then you’ll know why it isn’t always a good thing.”

  Laughing, he secured the two girths tightly. “Even if you had the worst sibling relationship in history, you’d still have a better partnership than half the Riders. But I only have to watch you to know it’s far better than that. I hope you’re taking notes, Corin.” Winking, he slapped his saddle and sent Atyrn outside. “Enjoy your Starday, students.”

  They said goodbye and Mhysra finished oiling Cumulo’s legs, before wiping her hands clean.

  Corin leaned back against the rail again, shaking her head.

  “What?” Mhysra asked, packing up her kit.

  Corin’s lips quirked up. “Lucky.”

  Hefting her stuff towards the tack room, Mhysra smiled as she watched Cumulo preen in the sunshine. Perhaps, though she wasn’t about to admit it, Corin had a point.

  9th Fledgling

  LYRAI WAS IN a contemplative mood as the exams approached. Out of his nine students, he had some doubts about Naelyn, Devane and Mouse, but was mostly proud of his group. Jermyn and Dhori were naturally gifted, while the rest worked hard. It boded well for the future and he carried his good mood away from the morning session into the dining room.

  “What are you so happy about?” Stirla grumbled, a pile of paperwork at his elbow. Never one to work when he could be having fun, he ended each moon with a two-foot stack and a bad temper. At least this month he had plenty of study supervision sessions to fill to help him catch up.

  “Thinking of the future,” Lyrai replied cheerfully.

  “I hate this time of year.”

  Considering that the school exams always happened in the second quarter-moon of Fledgling, Lyrai knew he should hate it too. Five afternoons of dull prep sessions, supervising his students and taking questions – most of which he wasn’t allowed to answer. The sixth day was the written exam and the seventh was the physical. Hethanon assessed that and clerks marked the papers, leaving Lyrai and Stirla free.

  After another quarter-moon, the results were given out and the real excitement began. That was why Lyrai was so cheerful: the Choice was only twenty-one days away. Soon he’d have wings again.

  Stirla gave a surly grunt and reached for the top of his stack. “Knowing my luck my lot’ll ask questions all afternoon, leaving me no time to work. Stupid exams.”

  Lyrai shook his head, not bothering to remind Stirla about his free evenings and Stardays. Instead he finished his pastry and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Good luck with the Paperstack of Doom. See you at dinner.”

  Stirla grunted again, showing no signs of leaving. Lyrai pitied the students who had the lieutenant as a mentor. Remembering his own study sessions six years ago, he winced. No matter how often he’d been assured the exam was easy, he’d still fretted, certain that he would fail. He hadn’t, of course, and the written paper had been laughably easy, but it was no use telling the students that. It was something they had to discover for themselves.

  The real test was to survive seven months in the company of Hethanon and the tedious clerks. If a boy could do that, he’d earned the right to try his luck at Aquila. The girls too. The reward was the chance to partner one of the most wondrous creatures in existence.

  Smiling, Lyrai collected his subdued students and led them to a classroom, wondering what he would look for in his new miryhl. Twenty-one days, that was all, then he would be able to fly again. He couldn’t wait.

  14th Fledgling

  “GODS, IS IT really over?” Mouse stumbled shakily out of the room.

  Walking behind him, Mhysra wished he would shut up. When Lieutenant Stirla had told them to stop writing she’d felt pleased, certain she’d passed. The questions had been as easy as everyone said. Or so she’d assumed, until Lieutenant Lyrai took her paper away and Mouse started moaning.

  “Gods, Maegla, Gods. I’ve failed, I know I have. I know it.”

  “Enough.” Derrain hooked an arm around Mouse’s neck, muffling him under his arm. “It’s done. You can’t change it. Give it a rest, before you mutter Mhysra into apoplexy.”

  She jumped, not realising she’d been so obvious. “I’m not worried.”

  “Of course not,” Corin chuckled. “That’s why you’re about to dash back inside and stab Lyrai with your quill until he gives you back your paper so you can check if you spelled Aquila with two ls.”

  Mhysra stopped, eyes widening. “It has two ls?”

  Derrain and Mouse blinked. “I hope not,” Mouse whispered.

  Mhysra grinned. “Got ya.”

  Which earned her a round of quill tickling, until she protested that Corin said it and Mouse started it. Ever fair, they doled out punishment to the others and by the time they reached the streets they were all in high spirits, even Mouse.

  “Went well then?” Harlan asked, as he joined them.

  “Easy,” Derrain assured him.

  “Could have done it blindfolded,” Corin boasted.

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Dhori tempered, smiling. “Perhaps with my hands behind my back.”

  “Even you would have passed,” Mhysra assured Harlan, who narrowed his eyes.

  “Must have been easy then,” he said, smiling. “I’ll buy the drinks. You’ll need them.”

  “A toast,” Derrain agreed, his happiness revealing how worried he’d been, despite all protests to the contrary. “To the easiest exam in history!”

  The others cheered and Harlan smirked. “Well, that too, but I was thinking you need to keep up your strength and spirits up for tomorrow. Doesn’t Hethanon get his claws into you in the morning?”

  Their merriment vanished.

  “You’re always the happy one,” Corin told him bitterly.

  “So you don’t want a drink?” Harlan chuckled. “All the more for me then.”

  “Ha!” Derrain snagged his collar before he could escape. “With you buying? Who’d be stupid enough to pass that up?”

  “We won’t get another chance this century, that’s for certain,” Mouse agreed.

  “Better check your pockets for chan
ge,” Dhori advised. Cheered up, they spent the walk into town teasing Harlan and his tight-fisted ways, all thoughts of the next morning temporarily forgotten.

  15th Fledgling

  BY THE EIGHTEENTH lap, Mhysra was struggling, but at least she wasn’t the only one. In fact, she was close to the front. Derrain, Dhori and three others were still romping along at a swift pace, but they were all tall and athletic, and at that moment Mhysra hated them. However, there were only two laps left, so she pushed on to complete the first challenge, pleased not to collapse when they were finally allowed to stop.

  Which was for the best, really, seeing as Hethanon was as merciless as ever, immediately pairing them off for the exercise routines. Finding herself opposite Haelle, Mhysra smiled and started stretching, turning to her partner when two people were needed rather than one. Then they faced a timed obstacle course. No one was surprised when Dhori won, while Haelle just beat Mhysra.

  Then it was weaponry and more competitions to see how far each of them had progressed. Naelyn surprised everyone – herself included – by coming top of the girls in staffs, and placing fourth overall, with Mhysra and Haelle just behind. The top place was fiercely contested between Jermyn and Dhori. Jermyn came out the eventual winner, but only by taking advantage of a perilous pocket of ground that tripped his opponent. Corin came second in archery, beating all the girls and most of the boys too.

  It was exhausting but enjoyable, and Mhysra was pleased by how well she’d done. Thanks to Hethanon’s rigorous training, she felt she’d acquitted herself well, as had the rest of her friends. Even those near the bottom, like Mouse and Corin, were competent. For the first time her goal seemed within reach and it was likely that all her friends would make it to Aquila.

  “At last,” Corin groaned as the girls entered the officer’s bathhouse, which had been temporarily assigned to them over recent months. “I’m finished.” Stretching her arms wide, she belly-flopped into the steaming pool.

  Jumping in and letting the heat wash over her, Mhysra sighed. The hardest part was over, now the waiting began. But as she scrubbed away the sweat and laughed with her friends, she was unable to shake off the feeling that everything wasn’t quite perfect yet. Perhaps it wouldn’t be until they reached Aquila. Or until after she’d finally told her parents.

  Grimacing, she shook her head and let the warmth soothe her worries away. Their exams were done. Soon they’d be real Rift Rider students. Now that was something worth celebrating.