The One Who Could Not Fly

by E G Stone

  “Why settle?” Again, the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. This time, though he had a feeling he would not regret them. The idea was in his head and, just like he knew that he would have that Angel, he knew this would work in his favour. She was familiar with his needs, the needs of leading an army. She had fought at Dagan’s side and was one of the pieces that kept that massive army together. She was also desperate.

  “Things aren’t that easy,” Nadezhda scowled. “Do you honestly think that I would be here in this slavers den if I had somewhere else to go? I’ve tried everything. For months after Dagan died, I tried to get some semblance of my life back. I even went to Southron, thinking maybe I could join the warbands there. I got turned away without a second thought.”

  “Then they’re fools,” Davorin said decidedly. He turned in his chair to face Nadezhda fully, taking her in. She would never be beautiful. She was too tall and powerfully built for that. She had further exacerbated the issue by cropping her hair close to her skull and revealing her scars proudly. She had the look of a brute, but the mind of a loyal leader. “Come lead my armies.”

  “What?” Nadezhda spit out her ale. The barkeep glared at her, but she glared back and won the battle. She turned to Davorin, wary. “You said it yourself, you don’t lead the armies of the Empire. Your father refused.”

  “I never said anything about the Empire,” Davorin said. “I’m out here for a reason.”

  “And what, exactly, would that reason be?”

  “I’m going to prove my father wrong. I’m going to prove them all wrong,” Davorin said with relish. The thought of his father supplicating him, apologising to him, it was a heady feeling. It filled his every thought and sent surges of desire through his veins. Davorin shook his head of the thought, pushing it to the side. Right now, he had to deal with Nadezhda. Then Jazer. “I’m going to continue Dagan’s work, but I will succeed where my brother failed.”

  “He expanded the Empire’s boundaries to cover nearly the whole centre of the continent, excluding the desert and the mountains,” Nadezhda scoffed. “I always knew you thought highly of yourself, but this is ridiculous.”

  “I am not the brute that Dagan was. I do not need to win territory by bloodshed alone. Being part of the Empire means something. It will be worthless if the people rise up once they decide that there have been enough of them killed. Not to mention Dagan nearly emptied our coffers, despite raising taxes to support his efforts. He was a wastrel and a brute.”

  “So, what, you’re going to take the desert? The Red Queen stands in your way. And the mountains? They have chewed up and spit out anyone who has tried to even get close. People don’t go to the mountains and survive,” Nadezhda pointed out. “Why bother conquering them at all?”

  “Because no one has done it,” Davorin replied. “My reasoning shouldn’t matter to you at all. I am offering you a chance to have everything you had before and more. You could go back to the Empire. Not as an exile. As a hero.”

  Nadezhda took a deep breath then let it out slowly. She finished off the last of her ale and turned to look at Davorin, obviously still wary. “Okay,” she said.

  Davorin nodded but held back his victorious smile.

  “Good,” Davorin said, finishing his wine. “Now you can come help me convince Jazer to part with that Angel. I think the threat of arming her slaves ought to persuade her nicely.”

  Chapter Ten

  Ravenna did not get to join in the celebratory feast that the warrior slaves were granted after the first day of the tournament. She had barely had her cuts seen by the healer assigned to the Pits when Jazer marched towards her, fire in her eyes.

  “You,” Jazer snarled, jabbing a finger at Ravenna’s chest. Ravenna kept still, though her expression hardened. She considered toppling the Slave Master back, buffeting her with her wings like she had done in the arena. Jazer would look very amusing flailing on the ground. But the consequences would be dire. Ravenna kept perfectly still.

  “You’re coming with me.” Jazer spun on her heel and strode out of the healer’s chambers. Ravenna followed, keeping her wings relaxed in case of quick action. She passed by the dining hall where the other slaves were gathering to their feast, spirits higher than normal. Ravenna spotted Tekko and Radim talking together. Radim lifted his eyes just as Jazer passed with Ravenna behind her. She waved, offering a weak smile. He flattened his mouth into a thin line and looked away. Tekko held her stare, nodding his head firmly at her.

  Ravenna did not understand.

  What could she have possibly done that was so bad Jazer had come to fetch Ravenna herself? Surely, the Slave Master was pleased with how the fight in the arena went, despite Ravenna’s silent promise. Ravenna had won. The Angel had won. That must have counted for something.

  Jazer was panting with exertion from climbing the stairs out of the Pits. Ravenna doubted that Jazer ever actually came down to the Pits if she could help it. She seemed the type instead to lord over the slaves from above. So why was the Slave Master fetching Ravenna personally?

  Ravenna followed the woman into the desert air, the sun gone but the heat remaining. The activity of the oasis had dwindled, though there were still noises from the pleasure hall. All those people come all this way for the tournament. Their escapades would make Jazer a small fortune, Ravenna imagined.

  “Here. I brought her,” Jazer hissed, stopping in her tracks. Two figures stepped closer, emerging from the shadows cast by the desert at night. Ravenna took a step back at the sight of the smaller figure—the female who had brought her to this horrid place. The Captain. She had not captured Ravenna from Shinalea, but she had led the group of slavers that brought her to Jazer.

  Run. The voice whispered inside Ravenna’s head. She was tempted to follow it. There were no chains around her feet or hands. She could easily be out of this place with a few swift steps of her feet and the training she had given herself and been given from Radim and Tekko. Then what? Ravenna would hit open desert and, while she could navigate, she would likely be dead before she even reached the sea.

  Ravenna braced herself, spreading her wings aggressively, but she did not run. The female grinned toothily at Jazer. The other person, male, taller and more fit than the Captain, watched Ravenna with open interest. His expression was stone silent, except for the cunning in his eyes. He wore leather armour, obviously of better make than what Ravenna had been provided in the arena. And at his hips were two swords. His right hand rested on the hilt of one, caressing it like a pet.

  “So you have,” he finally spoke in reply to Jazer’s declaration. His voice sent shivers down Ravenna’s back, and not in a good way. There was power in that musical voice. Power and ambition. He took a step towards Ravenna and she lowered her stance, ready to fight. Was this some sort of private fight that Jazer had organized? Why wasn’t she in the arena?

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Jazer snapped at Ravenna. The large woman looked like she wanted to cuff Ravenna about the ears, but the sylph was too far away and had her wings to defend herself. “This is your new master, Angel.”

  Ravenna flicked her eyes to the male. The world seemed to close in around her, making it difficult to breathe. She had just gotten used to being here, in this place that the other slaves called Hell. She had just decided that she would fight for herself rather than for someone else. She had, dare she say it, friends. And now, in the blink of an eye, that was all gone. Ravenna understood in that moment what slavery really was. It was not merely working until your bones were raw or doing tasks that you would never want for yourself. It was not just being nothing more than dirt beneath people’s feet. It was being nothing more than a thing to pass between people. A voiceless possession. It was a loss of self, until nothing more than a monetary value remained. Her sense of herself would be slowly stripped away. Then what would be left?

  With a flick of her head, Jazer stalked off, leaving Ravenna to her fate. She had not wanted the Slave Master to care, but any ackn
owledgement would be better than none. Ravenna had not even been able to say goodbye to Radim and Tekko. Was her life going to become a mockery of the travesty it was now?

  “I am Davorin.” The male sketched a bow, which looked decidedly less grand when there were no wings to fold and flare. “Firstborn Son of the Salusian Empire.”

  Ravenna said nothing.

  The Captain barked out a laugh, “That won’t mean anything to her!”

  Davorin straightened, frowning at the Captain. He sighed through his nose and looked back towards Ravenna, who had not moved from her fighting crouch. “I have no intention of fighting you, Angel. If you would please come with Captain Nadezhda and myself, I can offer you a bath and warm food.”

  Ravenna did not move.

  Davorin took another step forwards, holding his hands up, palms facing her. “I give you my word that you won’t be fighting in the arena ever again.”

  “So, what,” Ravenna spat, “I’m to be some bedwarmer?”

  The words came unbidden, the memory of a kind old female following them. Ravenna wanted to kill all the slavers for what they had done and the lives they had destroyed, including hers. And these humans, for buying and selling her like some trinket.

  Davorin shook his head, chuckling. “You are far too magnificent for such things. I have other plans for you, ones which you will find far more pleasant, I can assure you.”

  Ravenna wanted to flee far from the way his words tensed her muscles. He might be assured, but she was not. Whatever this parasite, this horrible creature, had in store for her, Ravenna doubted that she would much like it. But the time to run had passed. She would never make it, now, not with the Captain’s eyes following her and this self-assured male and his plans for her. Ravenna closed her eyes for a moment, forcing herself to accept this new life, pushing the bile down once more. She felt like a child again, being forced to accept the things the other sylphs threw her way. Words. Shoves. Buffets from wings.

  “What is your name?” Davorin asked as Ravenna slid out of her fighting crouch. Her wings pressed close to her sides, the feathers compressing. She looked at Davorin with as much anger as she could muster, which flowed cold as ice through her veins. “I cannot surely keep calling you Angel, though you may be one.”

  “I am not an angel,” Ravenna spat. The Captain and her keeper exchanged a confused look. “I am a sylph.”

  “Ah,” Davorin said, drawing his brows together. “I apologise. Your kind has been absent from this land for so long that the proper term for you has been forgotten. But that does not answer my question. What is your name?”

  Ravenna shuffled her wings. “I am Ravenna.”

  Davorin bowed again, this time with less drama and more satisfaction in his expression. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Ravenna. Now, if you do not mind, it is a bit of a walk to where my people are camped. I imagine you are hungry and wanting to bathe after the trials of your day.”

  Physical discomfort was nothing compared to her desire to be as far from Davorin and the Captain as possible. But Ravenna just gave a defeated nod and walked between the two as they left the centre of the oasis behind. Hell it may have been, but Ravenna felt a pang leaving it behind. She hoped Radim and Tekko would be alright. That was all she had to offer: her wishes. She hoped it would be enough.

  The encampment looked like a city of tents to Ravenna. She almost thought that she had come to a place like the Aerial City, except the people lived on the ground and took their belongings with them. For the first time in ages, Ravenna felt pure curiosity. She had not ever seen a human city, considering that the oasis was built around a Slave Market and the Pits. Maybe these people would be different from those in the Pits. Maybe they wouldn’t make Ravenna want to drag a blade she did not have through their skin.

  Her stomach dropped as they walked into the encampment. The people sitting around the cooking fires or outside their tents were males and females, as one would expect. But they all had a hard, eager look about them. And the ones without weapons looked the most dangerous.

  This wasn’t a moving city of people, Ravenna realised. This was an army. A word that hadn’t been whispered amongst the sylphs for generations. She only knew what she was looking at because she had studied the tomes that even Tacitus did not want to bother with and because of her time with the humans. Ravenna had read about the Fire Wars and the military strategies of an ancient time. She remembered the word. It meant death followed in its wake.

  “You will sleep here.” Davorin halted beside a small tent situated next to a much larger one. The sides of the smaller tent were almost opaque while the larger had heavy sides and guards around it. Davorin held open the flap to the small tent, barely large enough for the bedroll and basin that were already there. “Nadezhda will escort you to the warm pools where you can bathe. She will bring you food in your tent afterward.”

  Davorin turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Ravenna with the slaver.

  “Come on,” the Captain said, her eyes gleaming just a little too much for Ravenna’s taste. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  The female, Nadezhda, grabbed Ravenna’s wrist and practically dragged her to the edge of the encampment where a pool steamed quietly, a remnant of the springs that ran underneath the oasis. The Captain demanded that Ravenna strip and bathe, which she did because the alternative was worse. Ravenna had seen how the Captain treated other slaves on that long journey through the desert. They were beaten or whipped or starved if they did not do as Nadezhda asked. Never too badly, because they were to be sold after all, but badly enough to break their spirits. Like the old female who had told Ravenna stories she could barely understand.

  Ravenna stepped into the pool and shivered as the water worked its way through the dust on her skin. The few cuts and bruises she had earned in the Pits that day stung, the pain waking Ravenna further. She scrubbed with the pitiful handful of soap that Nadezhda gave and then started out.

  “Oh, no. You have to clean those pretty wings of yours,” the Captain sneered at Ravenna from the edge of the spring. “Soap them up.”

  “You don’t soap your wings,” Ravenna snapped in return, perhaps too far into her anger to care about the result. There was also the matter that Davorin was her master, not this horrible female.

  “Then how could they possibly get clean?” Nadezhda did not wait for an answer. She jumped into the water up to her hips and lunged at Ravenna. With a strong, callous hand, Nadezhda snatched one of Ravenna’s wings. She squeezed hard enough to twist feathers out of place and send darts of pain shooting up Ravenna’s back. Ravenna screamed in fury, pulling the appendage back. Nadezhda held on too tight, keeping Ravenna from escape.

  “Stop fighting!” the female snarled, tightening her grip on Ravenna’s wings. The feathers were getting twisted and Ravenna feared that they would be pulled from her wing, tearing the thin ligaments that kept them in place. Just like in the arena, Ravenna was struck with the fact that her wings were as vulnerable as they were powerful. And she hated feeling vulnerable.

  Ravenna let out another angry scream and wrenched her wing free of the slaver’s grasp. She did not waste any time, pushing through the water to climb out into the desert.

  Nadezhda was close behind, unsettling madness twisting her features. The larger female surged towards Ravenna.

  She skipped back and crouched, ready to fight.

  Nadezhda obliged.

  The Captain had obviously trained a good deal more than the woman Ravenna had fought earlier in the Pits. The strikes were more precise, less worried about sheer strength as she was with being exact. And she was much faster. Ravenna, though, was using Dalketh, a style that had not been seen by humans for who knows how long, if ever. She also had her wings. And, perhaps more important than all of them, Ravenna’s fury burned louder and deeper than Nadezhda’s.

  Nadezhda managed to get a kick to Ravenna’s thigh, but that forced her to get close enough for Ravenna to beat her over the head with her
wings. The sylph surged forwards as Nadezhda recovered from the distraction. Ravenna pushed her hands out, palms open, with a concentrated hiss. They struck Nadezhda in the chest, hitting the breastbone. The human female gasped for breath and staggered back. She was not down, by any means, but she was unable to fight back for a few precious heartbeats. Ravenna folded her wings in front of her naked body and then popped them open with all the strength in her body.

  Nadezhda caught the full force of the blow and fell backwards, landing in the dirt. She sucked in a deep breath and scrambled upward, ready to attack again.

  “That is enough,” Davorin’s voice cut through the air like a whip.

  Ravenna spun, spreading her wings in defence, not even caring that her body was on display for Davorin and what looked like a good number of people in the camp. Ravenna lifted her chin.

  Nadezhda climbed to her feet and tried to brush off the desert dust and sand. It clung to her wet clothes and shoes, turning to mud. “That bit—”

  “I said that is enough!” Davorin said, voice sharper than before. He stared down Nadezhda until she lowered her gaze and bowed her head. Davorin took a step towards Ravenna. “I see that Jazer allowed you to be taught more than you should.”

  “I was trained by other slaves for the arena,” Ravenna said, keeping her chin up, her expression haughty. “Obviously, they knew more than your Captain.”

  Nadezhda growled, stepping towards Ravenna’s outstretched wings. Davorin held up a hand and Nadezhda stopped. “Will someone tell me how this began?”

  “The stupid chit wouldn’t wash her wings,” Nadezhda spat.

  Ravenna’s spine straightened.

  “You don’t wash wings with soap,” she hissed. As soon as she said the words, something changed in Davorin’s calm expression. His jaw hardened and his eyes flashed.

  Davorin took in a slow breath and let it out before speaking, as though he were chiding a child. “Just because I have indulged you this far does not mean that you can disregard my wishes, Ravenna.”