Wingborn

by Becca Lusher

  Twenty Two

  The Thaw

  24th Winter Rains

  “I DON’T THINK this is a good idea,” Mhysra warned, watching Mouse lurch to the windowsill.

  “If I want to walk again, I have to walk,” Mouse panted, waving away Derrain’s help. White lines were etched at the corners of his mouth, but no one mentioned them.

  After almost a month in the infirmary, fighting off infections as well as the damage of the puncture wounds, Mouse had spent most of the last two moons hobbling around on crutches. The healers still worked with him when the rest of the first-years did their physical training. Thanks to them, Mouse would eventually be able to walk without a stick, but only if he was sensible. And patient. Since this was Mouse, Mhysra didn’t hold out much hope. Especially as he’d decided to forego his crutches entirely this morning.

  “Ready to try?” Derrain asked, pushing the others aside.

  Mouse stared at the empty floor between himself and Derrain, head bobbing as he calculated the distance: about twelve feet. “Yes. It’ll be easy.”

  Hugging his crutches, Corin snorted, but held her peace. The fall had changed Mouse. He was quieter now, more self-contained and grim, and far more determined. His friends had learned to support him in silence, since he didn’t listen to objections. Nor did he want pity or advice. He was going to walk without a limp and that was final.

  “All right.” Taking a deep breath, Mouse moved, his friends wincing with each step. After eight feet, he hissed and wobbled. “Blast it,” he growled, grabbing Dhori’s arm. “I hate this.”

  “Eight feet is better than none,” Mhysra said soothingly. “And you walked. It’s a start.”

  He looked at her. She shut up.

  “A limp isn’t so bad. Look at Captain Myran,” Greig pointed out, as one or other of them had done daily since the accident.

  “Myran was already a captain when he gained his limp,” Mouse growled. “I’m not even allowed on a miryhl. If things stay this way, I’d have been better off breaking my neck.”

  An uneasy silence fell and Mhysra hunched her shoulders, her guilt over Mouse’s injuries growing with every bitter day that he struggled to walk again.

  “Cheer up,” Derrain ordered, squeezing Mhysra’s arm sympathetically. “It’s your first go without crutches. Don’t give up yet. Even miryhls have to learn to fly.”

  “Is da poor ickle cwipple feeling sowwy for himself?” a mocking voice cooed.

  Bovei and three of Willym’s favourite students lounged in the corridor behind them. Eyeing Mouse’s bent leg and the crutches Corin held, Bovei smirked. “Poor baby.”

  “Got something to say, lordling?” Greig demanded, squaring up the them. Though he might have lacked his uncle’s intimidating full height and width, Derrain didn’t, and the pair of them effectively shielded Mouse from unfriendly eyes.

  Bovei looked Greig up and down and raised his eyebrows at Derrain. “Farm boys. So uncouth.” He sniffed exaggeratedly. “Can anybody else smell something? Has someone been sleeping with the pigs again?” His friends tittered.

  Mhysra put her elbow on Derrain’s shoulder and leant casually against him. “I didn’t know you shared a dormitory with Fredkhen’s boys, Derry.”

  The tips of Bovei’s ears went red, but he swiftly rallied. “And who’s been sleeping in yours?” he sneered. “Everyone knows why girls really want to join the Riders. What’s the matter, wouldn’t anyone take you in Nimbys?”

  Derrain tensed, but Mhysra laughed, pleased to have deflected Bovei’s poison.

  Greig smiled. “Funny you should show such an interest since it’s your bed I’ve been hearing about. But then, one must always strive to please one’s lieutenant. In whatever way he desires. Especially when one’s marks are suffering.”

  One of the boys choked, while Bovei balled his fists. “What are you implying, farm boy?”

  “I think you know, lordling,” Greig sneered.

  Derrain unfolded his arms slowly, smiling as Bovei watched his big fists flex and bunch. “I think the whole citadel knows.”

  If looks could kill…

  Going for the final push, Mhysra raised her eyebrows. “Got a problem with that, lordling?”

  Too angry for words, but not brave enough to take on Derrain, Bovei spat at their feet and marched off, taking his friends with him.

  “He’s not very happy with us,” Corin said sadly.

  Greig shrugged. “Willym’ll kiss it better.” The friends grinned.

  Except for Mouse. “I can look after myself,” he growled. “I don’t need you protecting me.”

  Despite his antagonism, Greig chuckled. “But it was fun. Taking out the rubbish was my main chore back home. I’m good at it.”

  “I used to chase rats off the ship when I was a cabin boy,” Derrain said, stretching his arms over his head. “It’s good to stay in practise.”

  “I don’t need your help,” Mouse snapped.

  “Who said we did it for you?” Greig retorted, taking the crutches from Corin and shoving them at him. “Maybe we got fed up of him poisoning our air.”

  “I could have dealt with him,” Mouse insisted stubbornly.

  Derrain shook his head. “It isn’t fair to keep all the fun for yourself. We deserve some too.”

  Clenching his jaw, Mouse manoeuvred his crutches into place. “If it makes you happy.”

  Grabbing hold of Corin, Greig waltzed her down the hallway. “Nothing makes me happier than meeting Lord Twit and his twittering lordlings. It adds something to my day.”

  “Arsenic?” Mhysra enquired, and Mouse actually cracked a smile. There was hope yet.

  Somewhere high overhead a bell began to ring, causing Corin to stop. She yelped as Greig tripped over her and they collided with the wall, collapsing in a graceless heap.

  It was Starday, so the bell meant only one thing: time to fly.

  Corin and Greig hastily untangled themselves and raced off, but Mhysra waited while Dhori and Derrain exchanged glances over the glum Mouse’s head. Derrain raised his eyebrows. Dhori shook his head, jerking it to the right. Derrain shrugged.

  “Come on, Mouse,” Dhori said eventually. “I’ll walk with you to the healers.”

  Mouse narrowed his eyes. “I don’t need a nursemaid.”

  Derrain grinned. “We know you don’t, but maybe Dhori does. He took an embarrassing knock yesterday. It hurts to sit down.”

  Mhysra bit her lip as the unflappable Dhori scowled, only to blank his expression when Mouse looked worriedly at him. “Really?”

  “A little tender,” he mumbled. “Care to keep me company while I see the healers?”

  “I can do that,” Mouse agreed with a hint of his old bounce.

  Derrain winked at Mhysra. “See, it’s not always about you, Mouse.”

  Leaning into his crutches, Mouse raised his hand to make a rude gesture.

  Shaking his head, Derrain sighed. “I am so unappreciated.”

  “Aye,” Mhysra agreed, patting his arm “You’re a regular martyr to your miracles.”

  “I know,” he murmured modestly. “But still, I try.”

  THE EYRIES BUSTLED with students as Mhysra scooped up her harness and slipped between the miryhls. Cumulo’s eyes were bright as he dipped his head at her approach.

  “Feeling impatient?” she asked, buckling the straps of his bridle.

  “I thought the snow would never end,” he grumbled, shivering at the weight of the saddle. “I’ve forgotten how to fly.”

  “Hardly,” she snorted, tightening the girths. “You’ve been out every day, just not with me.”

  “I’ve forgotten how to fly with you then. I’ll try not to drop you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Hurry up.” He nudged her. “I want to beat the rush.”

  Excited at the chance to fly again, Mhysra double-checked all the buckles and straps, worried she might have missed something in her haste. “All right?” she asked, making Cumulo look again when he snappe
d that it was fine. Finally satisfied, she stepped onto his lowered wing and swung astride.

  “At last,” he growled, leaping up to the nearest hatch before she had a chance to tuck her legs up or gather the reins.

  “Cue!” she complained.

  “If you fall off now, you’re being stupid,” he retorted, teetering on the edge of the hatch. “Sort yourself out.”

  “Yes, my lord. Sorry, my lord. Will that do, my lord?” she grumbled, tucking her feet into place and lying along his back. “I love you, Cue, even when you’re impatient.”

  “You say that now,” he chuckled, and dropped over the edge.

  “Maegla,” Mhysra whispered, tightening her grip.

  They’d left the eyries on the waterfall side of the bridge countless times before, but this was the first time Cumulo hadn’t bothered to open his wings. Instead he used them to clamp her legs to his sides. The falls roared as they dropped parallel with them, flashing past the town in heartbeats. Then all was stone, water, clouds and the ferocious rush of the wind.

  Cumulo fell, the air rippling over his feathers and nipping at his clenched wings. Water beaded his belly and Mhysra’s face, before being snatched away. A wiser person, Mhysra suspected, would have been terrified as the Cloud Sea drew closer, darkened by the shadows of rocks just below the surface. Energy and excitement fizzed through her as she revelled in the icy rush of the wind and the stomach-clenching fear of freefall. She laughed. She was flying with Cumulo. Nothing was better than this.

  Cold seized her legs as Cumulo relaxed his wings, spreading them wide to sweep out of the dive and over the turbulent sea. A pale shape dropped past and Cumulo flapped upwards in surprise, talons raised to deal with the threat. The other miryhl opened its wings and shot beneath them, shrieking a challenge.

  “Damn mimicking magpie,” Cumulo snarled, racing in pursuit.

  Hurricane and Lyrai looked over their shoulders and sped up. The lieutenant was laughing.

  Cumulo screamed and flapped harder, rising above Hurricane to where the air was smoother. Mhysra was surprised – and delighted – to see how much her miryhl had improved. He’d also had another growth spurt over the winter and was now the slightly larger of the two.

  Hurricane glanced up, banked left, then right, searching for an updraft to rise on. Cumulo growled, ducked into the turbulence and found a surge of his own. They shot skywards.

  Lyrai looked down, grinning as he urged his miryhl on. Hurricane responded by flapping harder. Cumulo stretched out his neck and strained to match.

  Rising over the Cloud Sea, he aimed for a tree-covered spur, pulling away from Hurricane as their paths diverged. Mhysra wondered what the others were about, but trusted her Wingborn to counter. At the last moment Hurricane banked and cut back towards them.

  Too late – Cumulo was ahead.

  Mhysra whooped, laughing as they reached the trees and she felt the immediate change in temperature. Thermals. Warmer air rippled over them as Cumulo’s wings levelled out and he soared, spiralling higher with hardly a change of pace. The rush made her light-headed. Hurricane swooped underneath them then up, settling into a counter-spiral.

  Exhilarated, Cumulo called to his rival in smug miryhl-speak. Much as Mhysra adored her Wingborn, humility had never been his strongpoint. On this occasion, though, she just laughed.

  Hurricane screamed back and Lyrai grinned, raising his arm to indicate that they were returning to Aquila now. Mhysra waved her agreement, then relaxed against Cumulo, watching the other pair speed away.

  “Still love me?” Cumulo asked when they were alone.

  Smiling, she buried her face in his feathers and relished the cold, airy scent of him, tinged with a hint of sweet dust. “More than ever.”

  8th Thaw

  “COME ON,” DERRAIN urged, jittering impatiently by the door. “Hurry up.”

  “Sorry.” Mhysra tumbled out of her dormitory, tying her curls back. “I needed to change. It’s too muddy to fly in fawn breeches.” She eyed Derrain’s pointedly, but he shrugged.

  “I’ll flirt with the laundry maids later and they’ll work their magic for me.”

  Mhysra shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.” But she didn’t waste her breath; Derrain was charming and knew it. Unfortunately it was a skill that worked on both sexes, which was how he’d gained Lieutenant Stirla’s permission to fly outside of lessons – as long as an experienced flyer kept him company. So far Dhori and Mhysra had been the only first-years granted that privilege, but most didn’t gain permission until their third year. Trust Derrain to outdo them all.

  “I’m also lovely, cuddly and perfect for taking home to mother,” he promised, holding the door for her, but only so he could hurry her through it.

  “Not my mother. She knows you.”

  “Please don’t take me home to your mother. Or your aunt,” he added, shuddering. “One Wrentherin woman in my life at a time is as much as I can handle.”

  She patted his cheek. “So wise so young.”

  The eyries were quiet when they entered. Most would still be making their way back from Maegla’s Hall after the Starday service, though Captain Fredkhen and Lieutenant Hlen were checking their students’ miryhls. Mhysra raised her eyebrows at Derrain, then hurried to fetch Cumulo’s tack and prise him away from his lounging.

  “Too early,” Cumulo grumbled, when she pulled his head down and slid his bridle over his beak. “Come back when the sun’s gone.”

  “It’s going to rain later,” she warned, amused by how quickly his moods changed. It had only been a half-moon since they’d flown for the first time in months. Mere days ago he had purred happily whenever she approached, no matter what the time of day. “Wouldn’t you rather fly when it’s warm?”

  He opened an eye, sighed and pulled his wings in. “You win. Where are we going?”

  “Derry’s got permission to fly with us, so we’re going to see the lake.”

  “I’ve seen it,” he muttered, while she settled his saddle into place and tightened the girths. “It’s icy.”

  “It might have melted by now,” she coaxed, smiling as Hurricane lifted a marbled wing so that she could walk around her miryhl. “Thank you.”

  Hurricane winked, stretched out his neck and returned to lazing. Cumulo watched him with a beady-eye. “The things I do for you and your friends. You’d best be keeping notes.”

  “Reams,” she promised. “Is all well?”

  He shook himself and stretched his wings. “Good enough,” he grunted. “I suppose we have to go now?”

  “Yes, please.” Smiling, she stepped onto his lowered wing, laughing as he twitched to boost her into the saddle. “Derry will join us as soon as he can,” she said. “So let’s enjoy the warmth while it’s with us.”

  Muttering, Cumulo shuffled between the basking Atyrn and Hurricane, stepped daintily over an out-flung wing and hopped onto the hatch ledge. He paused, head high, while sunlight gilded his beak and shimmered over his feathers. Smiling, Mhysra raised her face too, soaking up the delicious heat. Sunlight was always more precious at the start of spring.

  Cumulo tensed and she opened her eyes, shifting with him as he launched through the hatch. They exited on the falls side, swirling away from the roaring water to lift over the bridge and rise in broad circles around the towers of the citadel. They glided lazily, passing from light to shadow, over figures sprawled across the Lawn and in the courtyards below. All of Aquila had become sun-worshippers since the thaw had arrived.

  Skimming along the river, Cumulo snatched playfully at the waters, then tucked in his wings.

  “Cumulo,” she warned, but it was too late. “Cue!” Her shriek echoed off stone, half-drowned by the roaring water as her miryhl dived underneath the bridge and tipped them over the edge of the falls.

  This time he dropped as far as the town before opening his wings and sweeping up again. Mhysra lay against him, heart pounding, skin still chilled from the shadow of the bridge. She felt him laughing beneat
h her.

  “You’ll be the death of me,” she grumbled.

  He chuckled. “Not yet, chickling. Not quite yet.”

  As they rose above the bridge again, shedding rainbow drops of spray, Derrain and Zephyr were waiting. “Ready?” her friend called.

  She flattened against Cumulo’s back in answer, laughing as he broke out of their spiral and raced up the valley. A scream behind promised that Zephyr was following, and the two miryhls darted through the shadows of the citadel towards the heart of the mountain. When they reached the cascade, Cumulo thumped the air with his wings and catapulted them towards the broken spurs that separated the lake from the valley. A second hard flap, a third and they were over the rocks and through.

  “Oh, Cue,” Mhysra whispered, as she pushed herself upright on his back for a better look.

  A u-shaped bowl glistened before her, the semicircle broken by a sharp peak jutting from the cliffs at the far end. Around the edges snow-clumped fir trees lined the icy shores. As Cumulo soared over the valley, his shadow changed from black to blue below. The lake was thawing, but it still had a long way to go. She was doubly grateful for the sun on her back as the chill reached them. Spring had barely touched this place yet.

  Derrain and Zephyr caught up, and the two miryhls darted to and fro. The further they explored the more complex the valley became, with hidden ridges and secret inlets. It would be perfect come the summer and Mhysra spotted some ideal picnic spots. She wondered if there were boats for warmer months and vowed to ask Kilai when next she saw him.

  The far end of the valley ended in a sheer cliff, glossy black where all else was white. The water at the base had thawed entirely and was glassy, dark and still, reflecting them perfectly as they passed over. Cumulo glided along the stone, searching for a place to land, while Mhysra stared in wonder. She’d never seen such a perfect natural wall. There wasn’t even room for a raven to land, let alone a miryhl. It could have been chopped by a giant axe: not one crack marred the surface.

  It became a game for the miryhls to find a fault, swooping back and forth, using the glistening sunlight to study the surface, until they were forced to concede.

  “Dragon-made, it has to be,” Derrain said, after they landed on the crag in the middle of the wall that jutted over the lake, making the dip in the giant U. There was nothing perfect about this slice of rock and it provided ample roosting places for all manner of birds. “Nothing else could carve so smoothly.”

  “Mm,” Mhysra agreed, drinking from her water bottle. “You should ask Captain Fredkhen.”

  “Maybe,” Derrain agreed, taking the bottle but pausing mid-swing. “Hey, it looks like something found a fault. Maybe we didn’t go high enough.”

  Mhysra shielded her eyes and looked up. Something was moving on the wall, close to the top. It didn’t look like a bird, or at least not any species she could recognise at that distance. Perhaps a giant bat? It was crawling headfirst down the rock-face. A second joined it.

  “Cumulo,” she murmured, a chill that had nothing to do with the lake creeping over her.

  Her miryhl tilted his head at her words, one golden eye focusing. He tensed and turned to view the creature head on. “Mount up,” he rumbled.

  Derrain jumped at hearing her miryhl’s voice, then looked again. Five creatures now crawled down the wall. “Oh.” He paled and fumbled to put the lid back on the water bottle. “I didn’t…” he began, but ran out of words.

  Zephyr butted him in the back as Mhysra swung into Cumulo’s saddle. Derrain dropped the bottle and climbed onto his miryhl.

  “Straps,” Mhysra said tersely, turning to buckle her own as Derrain fumbled with his.

  “Carefully,” Cumulo murmured, edging around the spur with Zephyr until they were out of sight. “Go.”

  They leapt into the air, not bothering to circle for height. It was hard work, but both miryhls were in good condition and they crossed a quarter of the lake before their presence was noticed.

  A harsh scream echoed over the valley, raising the hairs on the back of Mhysra’s neck. Other voices joined the chorus.

  “Blast and burn it,” Derrain growled, glancing over both shoulders, until Zephyr snapped at him to stop. “What do we do?”

  “Get to Aquila and raise the alarm,” Mhysra told him, far more calmly than she felt as her heart thumped in her chest. “Rouse the eyries.”

  A shadow dropped from the ridge in front of them, followed by a second and a third. Leathery wings spread wide, cupping the air as elongated limbs dangled beneath, thick tails swaying in the wind. Almost-human faces grinned at them, thin lips peeling back to reveal pointed teeth. They threw their heads back and screamed.

  “Cue, go!” Mhysra shrieked, fumbling at her waist for the sword she didn’t have. They hadn’t even begun learning to fight on miryhl-back yet, and now this.

  Kaz-naghkt.

  Two shot upwards while the third coiled its body and launched straight at them. Curved claws opened and for a breathless moment Mhysra stared into red eyes, knowing not even Maegla could save her.

  Screaming, Cumulo swung his body up and hit the kaz-naghkt in the chest with his talons. Digging through its belly with one foot, he shredded with the other, using his beak to distract the creature’s teeth. Before it had a chance to use its wing spurs or claws, Cumulo tore off its head and dropped it into the icy lake below.

  The fight lasted a handful of heartbeats, but they had dropped perilously low in that time, while Derrain and Zephyr continued on without them. Their friends were almost at the cascade, but two kaz-naghkt were gliding above them. Zephyr was a big miryhl, solid and strong, but she wasn’t fast.

  “Keep watch behind,” Cumulo ordered his Rider, powering in pursuit and skimming the water to clean his talons.

  Eager to help, and berating herself for not at least bringing her bow, Mhysra darted glances above, below and over both shoulders. What she saw filled her with horror. “We have company.”

  “Where?” he growled, not taking the time to look.

  “Everywhere,” she whispered.

  “Hold on!” he called, rising to catch the sharp tail-wind that blew down the valley. With that beneath his wings, he glided over the kaz-naghkt pair stalking Derrain – and dropped.

  Seizing one in his beak and thumping the other with his wing, Cumulo plunged towards the lake, taking both creatures down with him. He shook the one in his beak, throwing it into the cliff, before turning on the other.

  Dazed but watchful, the kaz-naghkt spread its wings, using them like sails to drift back from the enraged miryhl. Cumulo was almost twice its size, but the kaz-naghkt was protected by hard scales down its back and sides, and armed with claws, teeth, wing spurs and a club tail. It would be a close match and the kaz-naghkt knew it. Lips peeled back over ferocious teeth, thin nostrils flared and it gurgled with laughter.

  Watching their enemy warily, Cumulo circled, keeping the creature in sight. It didn’t seem to care that Derrain and Zephyr had escaped and even now would be rousing Aquila. All that mattered was the miryhl in front of it.

  “Cue,” Mhysra whispered, not wanting to distract him but needing to tell him what was coming. There were at least fifty kaz-naghkt skimming over the lake or rising to strike from above, with more still arriving from the forests. She had never questioned her miryhl’s courage, but he was just one eagle and they were outnumbered. “We have no time.”

  When the sun hit their back, he flapped his wings hard, shooting up as the kaz-naghkt lunged. Its scream was curtailed with a thud when it hit the jagged spurs above the cascade. Mhysra looked down at its impaled body as Cumulo rose over the rocks and twisted into the wind. Tucking his wings in tight he dove into the valley below, racing down the river towards the citadel.

  The bells began to toll.

  Figures scurried to leave the Lawn, evacuating the courtyards, running for the eyries and readying the nakhounds. Miryhls appeared, with and without Riders, and Cumulo fled towards them. Shadows rippled ov
er the river and outbuildings behind them, filling the valley with gleeful shrieks.

  The kaz-naghkt had come to Aquila.

  “Hold on!” Cumulo shouted, gliding swiftly towards the falls.

  He jolted and Mhysra yelped at the kaz-naghkt holding her miryhl’s tail. She had nothing to throw: no weapons, no rocks, not even her water bottle. Cumulo strained against the restraint as the kaz-naghkt opened its wings, filling the great leathery sails and slowing them all down.

  Grinning, the kaz-naghkt opened its claws and lunged —