Raven's Wings

by Colin Lindsay

“It has,” they replied.

  “And you will uphold it?”

  “As you would ours.”

  Settled as it was, two of her mother’s guards advanced to escort Dhara from the room. Kaia started to protest, but Zara silenced her. The guards reached to hold Dhara by the arms, but she shrugged away from them.

  “I know the way,” she spat.

  They wouldn’t let her return to her dwelling and instead shadowed her as she walked directly to the edge of the village. They watched her descend the rope ladder to the ground, and Dhara winced when her feet touched the ground. She walked to the canoes. The guard there smirked and shrugged.

  “Told you,” she said sarcastically.

  Dhara resisted punching her in the face and began dragging a canoe toward the water instead.

  “Wait!” Kaia’s voice rang out. Her sister raced down the path toward her.

  Dhara paused but resisted hugging her sister goodbye. She needed to leave with her dignity intact. “You know that if I return, you’re sworn to kill me?” Dhara reminded her.

  “Of course. That’s why we’re going with you.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, we,” Zara added, emerging from the path carrying Nina in one arm and three packs in the other.

  Dhara could no longer resist hugging them.

  “Sisters,” Kaia said.

  “Sisters,” Dhara and Zara replied in unison.

  They each grabbed a canoe and pushed it into the river. Kaia positioned Nina at her feet, sat down, and joined her sisters in steering northward.

  34

  Kala

  Kala held out her hand to the pretty, young acolyte. “Hi, I’m Raven.”

  The girl stared at Kala’s outstretched hand for a moment, then grasped it. “I know who you are. Talk does make its way up here from time to time. I’m Eden, like Tallie said.”

  “I’ll leave you two girls to it then,” the librarian said and took her leave.

  “Eden is a pretty name,” Kala said, entering the room.

  “Thank you,” the girl blushed. “So is Raven,” she lied. “A little dark, but pretty too.”

  Kala shrugged. “Tallie said something about a map.”

  Eden brightened. “Oh yes, my life’s work, it seems. Let me show you.” She guided Kala over to her drawing table, on which two enormous books lay side by side. Eden was transcribing a map of the world from one to the other.

  Kala stared at it. “It looks so small on the page. When you’re out in it, it feels so vast.”

  Eden furrowed her brow. “You’ve been outside the city?”

  “Yes. A great distance,” Kala replied and sighed at the thought.

  “Oh. Would you like me to leave you to examine the book?”

  “You’re the expert. Would you mind explaining it to me?”

  Eden smiled. “I’d be happy to, but first, are you hungry? I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

  Kala nodded.

  “Excellent,” Eden continued. “I have some fruit and assorted cheeses over here,” she said, gesturing toward a settee. “I try not to eat near my work.” She guided Kala over, and they sat down to lunch. They chatted about their childhoods while they ate, and afterward, Eden spent the afternoon explaining the maps in the book to Kala.

  It was getting late, so Kala got up to leave. “Thank you. I’d best be going, and you’d best find something to eat. I’m afraid I’ve kept you through dinner.” She walked to the door and opened it but hesitated in the doorway. “Would you mind if I came back sometime? I enjoyed spending the day with you.”

  “Anything for the Angel of Death,” Eden joked.

  Kala scowled.

  “I’m sorry. You’re sort of a big deal around here.”

  “It’s okay. It’s just that I don’t have a lot of friends. Brother Grey is about as personable as a block of stone.”

  Eden laughed. “It would be my pleasure.”

  Kala smiled her thanks and left.

  Kala’s days fell into a routine. She spent her mornings with Brother Grey, then showered and visited the library to ask Tallie for books. She’d take the books to Eden’s room and sprawl on the settee reading while Eden drew at her desk and sometimes sang to herself.

  Kala’s sparring with Brother Grey evolved into a type of dance in which the threads of possibility endlessly curled and uncurled on themselves. Kala was slowly mastering the perception of the threads that connected her movements and those of her opponent. A thought suddenly struck her.

  “Does the Priestess practice this art?”

  “She taught it to me,” Brother Grey responded.

  “So, she sees the past, the present, and the future overlaid on each other and pulls strings to shape events?”

  “There’s no one more skilled at it.”

  Kala mulled this over and resumed their training. An airship flying overhead distracted her, and she paused mid-strike. Brother Grey pushed her over, and she lay in the grass, watching the airship pass.

  “You miss them?” Brother Grey asked, helping her up.

  “The airships?”

  “Your family.”

  “They’re far behind me, but yes, they pull at my heart every day.”

  “The Church is your family now. The past is another world, lost to time.”

  Kala scowled at the prospect of the temple walls being her home.

  “Don’t tell me that Death doesn’t call to you,” Brother Grey said.

  “I’ve been told that I have a knack for it,” Kala replied sardonically.

  “That’s what I mean. The Mistress’s way is your way. You belong here.”

  Kala felt anger slowly rising inside her. She wasn’t Death’s puppet. This cool detachment didn’t suit her. She was Fire – she needed to feel. “I’m done for the day, Brother Grey. Good day.” She stormed off for the showers.

  Soon after, Kala found herself standing in front of the librarian’s desk.

  “Tallie, what do you have in the library about the airships?”

  “Not much, I think. They’re very old, the ships – they’re mentioned in some of the oldest texts. I know where to look, though. Wait here, and I’ll fetch you what we have.”

  Kala collapsed into a chair and let her mind wander.

  Tallie returned before long with an armful of scrolls. “Be careful with them. Several are quite fragile.”

  Kala promised she’d be careful and carried them to Eden’s chamber. She said hi to the monk guarding the door and knocked on it with her foot. Eden let her in, and they chatted while Kala took up her usual spot on the settee.

  Kala read everything she could about the airships, although she found most of it incomprehensible. She pieced together what she could. They had once been part of an extensive trade network that enabled the world to share resources sustainably. This aligned with lectures the Priestess had given her about the peoples of other worlds having consumed their world’s resources until it could no longer support them, and then they either died out or moved on. She couldn’t fathom why there would need to be a trade in young people, however. It seemed to her that they would be a plentiful resource wherever there were people.

  Kala put the thought aside and got up to stretch. She walked over to Eden and asked if she had any maps of the winds.

  “Hmm. Not in this book, but I think I saw something like that in one of the others. I double-check the maps across all books before I draw one from a single source.” She rooted around on her shelf and pulled out a small book. “This one isn’t all that helpful. It mostly shows how people once thought water moves around in the oceans, but I think there’s a page in here about the wind. Ah, here it is.” Eden brought the book over to Kala.

  Kala looked it over and saw that the prevailing winds were drawn to blow from west to east in the north, as she’d always noticed, but they also looped south and reversed direction to travel from east to west along the equator. There were countless swirls and forks.

  “Do you mind if I try
to copy this?” Kala asked.

  “I’ll do it for you,” Eden replied. “It’s my specialty, after all.”

  She pulled out a sheet of paper and began tracing the outline of the continent. Kala peered over her shoulder, studying the map.

  “Why are you so interested in the wind?” Eden asked.

  “I’m trying to figure out the routes that the airships take.”

  “Why?”

  “They might be the only way I can ever get back home.”

  “Where’s home?”

  “As far as I can tell, somewhere around here,” Kala said, pointing to a spot on the map.

  “Oh, west of here,” Eden noted. “I met a boy from the west once. I really liked him, but he disappeared as quickly as he appeared.” She sighed.

  Kala placed a hand on her shoulder. “Me too. I’m sorry.”

  Eden looked up at her a moment, then resumed drawing. When she finished, she handed it to Kala.

  “Thank you so much.” Kala studied the map and looked discouraged. “Unfortunately, it looks like the only way to get back to where I started is to circle the globe entirely, or go south and loop back around. Neither way looks short.” She rolled up the map and placed it into an empty tube that she’d found in the library. She decided that she needed cheering up. “Do you want to go out tonight?”

  “Where?”

  “Anywhere that serves wine. The monks make it. I’ve seen the vineyards, but they never seem to drink it.”

  “I had wine once. It was tasty. We’d have to go off temple grounds, and that would be dangerous.”

  “You’d have the Angel of Death with you. How dangerous could it be?”

  “You have a point. Okay, let’s do it. When?”

  “How about now?”

  “Okay. Let me clean up my brushes and freshen up. Are you going to wear that?” Eden asked, gesturing to Kala’s fighting leathers.

  “A little severe, perhaps,” Kala mused, running her hands over the bodice. “I was given a dress when I arrived, and I think it’s still in my room. I’ll change into it and meet you back here.”

  “It’s a date,” Eden concluded excitedly and got up to put away her paints.

  Kala headed back to her room and put on the grey dress. She smudged a little black powder that she used for camouflage around her eyes and looked herself over in the mirror. I can look like a regular girl and not an agent of destruction if I want to, she concluded. Kala stared at herself in the mirror. Who was this girl? What was this other life? Her reflection stared back at her, tantalizingly real, but somehow still just an illusion. She sighed and slung a satchel over her shoulder, then slipped a dagger into it for good measure.

  She walked back to Eden’s room, and when she opened the door, they were both taken aback.

  “You’re so pretty,” Kala said. “Not that you aren’t all the time – Sorry, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

  Eden blushed. “I work with paints all day. Of course, I play with make-up now and then, but usually just for myself. I love your eyes, by the way.”

  “A little dramatic, but I think it goes with the reputation.”

  “Let me get you some rouge for your lips, and the boys will swoon.”

  Eden led them to a tavern that her girlfriends raved about. It looked sketchier than she’d imagined, but Kala seemed quite happy with it. They found a table and Kala ordered them drinks. A couple of boys dared their luck, but Kala gave them a ‘you think so?’ look, and they slunk away. She leaned back and toasted Eden.

  “This is so much fun,” she said to Eden. “Do you ever feel as though everyone has plans for your life, but no one cares what you want from it?”

  “Every day of my life.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, but pretty as you are, why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

  “I don’t get out much, and I’m pretty sure the priestesses would frown on it.”

  “So, get out more and let them frown.”

  “There was only the one boy, and that didn’t turn out so well. He was charming, and we were passionate about the same things, but he just vanished.”

  “I know how disappointing that is. There was a boy once who came to my village in an airship. He was maddening at first, but he sort of grew on me. Then one day he was just gone without a goodbye.” Kala stared wistfully into her wine.

  “Did you ever kiss?” Eden asked shyly.

  “Just once.” Kala sighed despite herself.

  “It must have made quite the impression.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Is your name Kala?”

  Kala stiffened. “I bore that name as a child. How did you come to know it?”

  “He left you this,” she replied and pushed a folded note over to her that had her name on it. “I didn’t read it, I promise. He placed it in the scroll that foretells your arrival, and I wondered why every day until you arrived. Then I just didn’t want to believe it was you.”

  Kala took hold of Eden’s hands across the table. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “It sure as hell isn’t.”

  “I’m sure he had his reasons, and other than leaving without saying goodbye, he was sweet.”

  Kala reached across the table and pocketed the note. “This calls for more wine,” she declared and called the server over.

  Kala tucked Eden into bed later that night and quietly closed the door behind her, apologizing with her eyes to the guard outside it. She walked back to her room with Skye’s note in her pocket, sat down at her tiny desk, and lit a candle. Kala turned the note over in her hands several times before opening it. She folded it flat and began to read.

  My dearest Kala,

  If you’re reading this, then the gods have been kind. I think of you every day, and every night I pray to the stars that we’ll find each other again. You know where I’m heading, and I hold onto the hope that you’ll find me there. Yours,

  Skye

  Oh, Skye, Kala thought. She blew out the candle and lay down, but sleep did not come.

  35

  Forest

  Forest doubted that she could simply walk out of Soren’s camp and into the woods without being challenged. She was generally free to roam within the camp without being harassed, except for the catcalling, but leaving camp was probably another matter entirely, especially in the direction that Soren planned to march, so she assumed that she’d have to sneak away.

  She found herself walking past the pens holding the captives and felt guilty about her relative freedom. She heard hooting and slowed to see it was all about. Men stood in a ring around a frightened boy of eight or nine years, lobbing rocks into the air at him. The boy was doing his best to dodge them but was less successful than the men who were trying to hit him. Any man who succeeded in hitting him would cheer and announce their incremented total. The boy bled from numerous cuts, but the men were cruelly indifferent.

  Forest was disgusted.

  A man ran out of ammunition and called to the boy, “Bring me some rocks, boy.”

  The boy bent to collect some, which allowed several of the others to score a hit on him. The game evolved into trying to hit him while he moved about gathering rocks.

  Forest sighed. She couldn’t let this stand. She marched up to the men, pointed at the boy, and declared, “I’ll take that one.”

  The men paused mid-throw with looks of surprise and anger.

  “Soren wants a boy, and this one will do,” Forest repeated impatiently, gesturing at the boy.

  “Why does Soren want the boy?” the ringleader asked.

  “Not ‘the’ boy, ‘a’ boy… and this one will do.”

  “Tell us why,” another man challenged.

  “Do I look stupid enough to ask Soren why he wants what he wants?”

  “Pick another boy. We’re busy with this one,” the man replied and turned to line up another throw.

  “Soren says the captives are either to be useful or to be killed.
This boy doesn’t look useful, so either kill him and get me a useful boy or give him to me and stop wasting my time.”

  “Take the gods-damn boy then. We’ll find another.”

  “Do as you please, but it seems to me that if you aren’t being all that useful yourselves, you’re risking the same judgment by Soren. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to prove my usefulness.” Forest turned to the boy. “Drop those stupid stones and get your ass over here.”

  Forest grabbed the boy’s shoulder and shoved him roughly toward the central tent, causing him to stumble.

  “I don’t have all day. Stay on your feet,” Forest barked.

  The boy winced and wiped away tears.

  “Oh, for the gods’ sake,” Forest declared and dragged him along.

  The men watched them go, and she purposefully chose a path that took her around tents and in and out of view. By making it difficult to follow her progress, she hoped it would hasten their losing interest in her. To be safe, she walked as close as she dared to Soren’s tent, then veered off. She couldn’t know for sure, but she hoped that she was far enough to be safe from the men’s notice.

  “You just made my life infinitely more complicated,” she complained to the boy. “I’m Forest. What’s your name?”

  “Abdi,” he replied meekly.

  “Pleased to meet you. First off, I’m not taking you to Soren. I’m getting us out of here. I’m just not quite sure how yet, but I have some ideas. I guess the first step is to get you cleaned up.” Forest walked him around the camp until she found a barrel of water with no one near it. She had to make do with her hands and sleeves to scrub the dirt from his face. He winced when she applied pressure to his cuts, and she did her best not to hurt him, but she needed him to be clean, and she couldn’t afford the time it would take to be gentle. All in all, the boy bore it well.

  “Pick up that bucket and fill it from the barrel,” she instructed. “Nothing makes you more invisible than a burden.”

  Abdi did as he was told.

  “I have an idea, but we’ll need apples,” she declared. She steered Abdi toward where the camp provisions were stored. When they were close, she had him dump out the water but keep the bucket. She marched him toward a bin of apples and ordered him to fill the bucket with them.