Skyborn

by Cameron Bolling

  When she burst through a door at the top of the stairs, she found herself on a wide circular floor. A lattice of metal beams crisscrossed the circumference—windows of a sort, though open to the air. A strong gust whipped loose strands of her dark hair about her face and tugged on the fabric that hung haphazardly affixed to her glider. She moved towards the edge. The heights slung a dizziness about her head. Should her glider fail and send her on the quick route to the ground, her chances of survival totaled a clean zero.

  Oleja threw her things to the floor and resumed her furious work. The wind masked the sounds of Honn’s approach. Exactly when he’d reach the floor would be a surprise. Until then, she had work to do.

  Her hands flew over the frame, pulling the fabric into place. Sweat beaded on her brow. The wind swept it away. Footsteps hit the floor, sending tremors through the structure. Oleja hurriedly wrapped up the last of the fabric and collapsed the glider wings. Two straps would have to do.

  Honn kicked open the door.

  Oleja strapped on her glider.

  With a cruel scraping sound, Honn slid two swords from sheaths at either hip. He grinned. Oleja pulled her bow off her shoulder and drew an arrow, clasping the cover over her quiver once she retrieved one. It was going to be a bumpy ride.

  “Did you think you left me behind?” asked Honn with a sneer, speaking loudly to make his voice heard over the wind.

  “Hoped, but never thought,” said Oleja, backing up slowly. She couldn’t make her plans clear or he’d charge her or go for the crossbow at his hip. As she sized him up, she noticed something. The armor along his left hip and leg bent sharply, and blood trickled out from the gaps. The metal parted just enough around the thigh to expose some of his grey skin and torn brown pants—the results of her rubble cave-in.

  A loud bang sounded as the door flew open again. Oleja looked past Honn. Pahlo stood in the doorway. Honn didn’t even bother to look back over his shoulder. But Pahlo was a far cry from the force needed to bring down the trained eclipser soldier.

  Casmia filed in behind him, and then the rest of the raiders, all breathing heavily and clutching their weapons. Even Kella stood amongst them, her eyes wide yet determined. Oleja grinned. They had him well outnumbered, and hopefully out-skilled. Honn didn’t flinch.

  “Attack to kill!” shouted Oleja. Several of the raiders lurched forward. They paused as Casmia raised a hand.

  “They don’t act on your command, Raseari,” she said. Honn kept coming. Oleja kept retreating.

  Was she serious? Was it not clear what they should be doing? They hated the earthborn whether this one in particular was an enemy of Oleja or not. Honn still didn’t look back to size up the new opponents or guard against their attacks. What was going on?

  “You don’t see what is happening here, do you?” asked Honn with a smirk.

  “What is there to see? You’re about to die.” Her voice wavered. She couldn’t imbue her words with sureness if she didn’t possess it.

  “This is what happens to lowly digging worms who try to play the hero. You make enemies. Even where you don’t expect them.”

  Realization hit Oleja like a ceiling of stone crashing down on her. She looked to Casmia.

  “What did you do?” she asked the woman, fear and anger rising in her voice.

  “What was best for my crew. You fetch a high price, Raseari. Weapons, ores—materials to replace the ones you lost—and safe passage through the earthborn lands to the east. We have lost faithful members of our crew in similar territory.” She looked to Hylde and Kella. “Now we won’t have to face that tragedy again.”

  Oleja’s foot found the edge of the platform. Behind her was only the sky. She set her jaw and drew her focus away from the raiders. She didn’t need them. She didn’t need anyone. Her escape plan would have worked out fine whether they came after her or not, and her plan to save her people would be no different. This was why she worked alone. The sky behind her was all she needed.

  Honn kept coming. The raiders all looked between Oleja and Casmia. Oleja drew back her bow and aimed at Honn’s face. He dropped his visor.

  At the last second, she shifted her aim to the gap in his dented armor and fired. The arrow sank deep into his flesh, spilling dark blood anew that ran down the polished armor that clad his leg. He roared in pain and fell forward. And she saw nothing more.

  She jumped.

  The ground raced to meet her. With her free hand, she reached behind her and pulled the cord on the glider. The wings deployed in an instant, the frame rattling as the wings caught the air. Her legs, floating freely without straps, fell down beneath her—surely not a dignified position, but it didn’t matter as the wind caught her and propelled her forward, carrying her along with it as it blew northwest.

  At her altitude, she could cover a great distance before she reached the ground, and unlike last time, she wanted the glider to take her as far as it could. The wind blew strong and kept her descent slow.

  It would be a while before her feet found the ground again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  No doubt about it—controlled landings were far better than crash landings.

  The new glider shook and rattled, rickety in its hastily-finished state, but by some miracle it held together. Perhaps she had her “skyborn talent” to thank if what that one kid said was true. She almost laughed thinking about it, but the feeling evaporated almost immediately. She was in no laughing situation. Only anger coursed through her now.

  They betrayed her. All of them. Sure, she expected it from Casmia, but Pahlo? Kella? Hylde? They conspired behind her back to sell her to Honn, thinking only of their own selfish wants. Casmia could have dozens of weapons to replace her lost sword—which she misplaced, not Oleja. Hylde could make sure she never lost another person she loved to the eclipsers, and Kella would sleep well knowing her birth mother was spared from the same fate as the mother she already lost. And of course, Pahlo just wanted to save his own skin—Honn pursued Oleja, not him, and if he acted in a way that pleased the hunter, he could ensure that neither Honn nor any other eclipser changed their mind and went after him once they apprehended their primary target. Oleja just hoped her escape meant the deal collapsed and that no one could get what they were all too willing to sacrifice her for. She couldn’t bear the idea of Casmia receiving her reward in metals that Oleja herself hauled out of the earth with her own shackled hands.

  Honn would die, if he hadn’t already. He had no hope of surviving his predicament. He bled heavily with an arrow in his leg at least a thousand feet in the air. Stairs would be his end, and plenty of them stood between him and his sled. The raiders wouldn’t help him—clearly they operated on a skewed sense of alliance, but they weren’t that stupid. After Oleja slipped through his fingers, nothing held him to his deal. He could turn on them, and even injured he’d be able to take out at least one of them, perhaps more, before they could finish Oleja’s job. They could leave him there to die and shed no more worry in his direction. They could even loot his sled back down on the ground. All thanks to Oleja.

  She was outside the ruins now. The wind carried her longer than she’d hoped, oftentimes keeping her from losing any elevation at all. The towering husks of the old towers now rose up as vague shapes behind her. Sand surrounded her—not that she was used to anything different—though no scraggly shrubs or patches of dry grass broke up the terrain, only sand, strewn in wavy lines by the wind.

  For once, she had options in where to turn her path. Honn was out of the way. She could return to her village, alone, just as she wanted to. Or she could turn elsewhere—seek out a spot of refuge from the desert heat and plot her next move.

  Her first concern should be water. She replenished her clay canteen and waterskin shortly before slipping away from the raiders and had hardly touched either since. She didn’t have a lot, but the water could last her a day comfortably, more if she rationed it. The closest water source she knew the location of was the lake. Getting back to the
ruins would take the remainder of the day, and reaching the lake meant another several hours’ walk from there. Doable, certainly, but it came with one major deterrent: passing back southeast meant going past the raiders and risk running into them. Such a confrontation sounded awkward at the very least.

  Going back through the ruins to the lake also made up the first leg of the trip back to her village. If that was her path, nothing stood between her and whatever awaited her upon return. Against the eclipsers and their defenses, she’d have only herself, her wits, and the things she carried.

  Normally she’d have confidence in such an arsenal, but the lightness of her quiver posited a counterargument. Aside from her bow, she had her knife for a weapon and nothing more. And her armor still collected dust in a hole back in the canyon. If she planned to fight her way singlehandedly through whatever protections the eclipsers put in place to keep her from the gate, it would be tricky.

  She could piece together new arrows in the desert, but for that she required time and many resources she didn’t presently have. Following in the raiders’ footsteps and looting for parts could be an option, but during that time she’d need to survive in the wilderness alone. As long as she set up camp by a water source, she’d take care of that need, but ensuring a reliable stash of food was more difficult. She carried enough rations for a few days at best. Hunting would be a necessity.

  All of that made up one of her options, but she had another. She could go to the civilization of people in the mountains that Casmia mentioned—northwest, according to her direction, though Oleja knew not how far. The journey pointed through land unexplored to her, and without a map for guidance, she’d have to find her way on her own. But according to the raiders, food and water were more plentiful outside of the desert, making survival easier. At least, assuming they didn’t lie to her about that as well.

  If she managed to reach the town in the mountains, she could trade with the people and plan her next move from there, conserving her energy without having to divert so much of it to staying alive. And as a bonus, if she took that path, she wouldn’t have to wander back past the raiders.

  Setting her course for the mountains seemed like the best option. If nothing else, it would get her out of the desert heat while she readied to take on the eclipsers. She just hated that it meant moving farther away from her village, further from her time to be the gallant hero leading them to safety. Though her heart felt as if her village tugged in the other direction, she turned northwest and continued on the route that the wind had already brought her down. First things first, she needed to get out of the desert. Once she accomplished that, then she would worry about her people.

  She tried her best to brush off the uncertainty she felt. Confidence was the key to bringing down the eclipsers and freeing her people. She needed to plan, and couldn’t do it if she struggled just to keep herself alive. Making for the mountains was the right choice.

  The sun indicated that the hour ticked passed midday now. Thinking back to that morning, before they even reached the ruins—it felt like ages ago. She was better off now—back in control of where she went and what she did. She should never have started traveling with the raiders to begin with. Nothing but insects, they lived like mites, crawling through the trash looking for something they could use for their own benefit. Oleja was not a scrap pulled from the trash, and she wouldn’t fetch a deal for anyone. Never again would she be a pawn in someone else’s game, not ordered to mine or thrown about in a barter. She was the one playing the game now, and it didn’t matter what it took to win; she would do it.

  Time wore on as she walked. All of her gear weighed her down. Glider, quiver, bag—she forgot how it felt to bear so much. Looser sand composed the ground underfoot now, and it made her slide with each step. Though she still wore the raider’s outfit—and planned to wear it while it still served her, because suffering the heat for the sake of pettiness clearly indicated a fool—the sun beat down hard upon her and only made the walk more miserable. Sweat soaked into the fabric. She could almost feel the weight it added. The heat only seemed to grow in intensity the farther west she went, and if that was truly the pattern to expect for the trail ahead, she had half a mind to turn and reverse course, going instead back east to where the sun treated her more kindly. Supposedly cooler air settled in the mountains—if she still trusted the words of the raiders—which meant that sooner or later the temperature had to start decreasing as she moved westward. With any luck, that leaned to the sooner side of things rather than the later. Water was not a resource she had in abundance, so she preferred not to sweat all of it out the second it passed through her lips.

  Sunset marked the impending arrival of cooler temperatures, but it also meant that while the sun sat lower in the sky, it shone in her eyes as she continued on her course. Squinting made the muscles in her face ache, and before long she gave in and resorted to keeping them shut as she walked through the barren landscape. There was no threat of crashing into anything given that doing so required something to crash into, but she opened her eyes and blinked into the light every so often just to check and make sure. Each time, nothing but the sight of more sand greeted her. If she never looked upon another patch of sand again, she would offer no complaints. Even the hills off to her left and right promised more interesting sights, but the frequent ascent and descent over each rolling peak would only double the distance she had to cross, and that was not a tradeoff she had yet resigned herself to making. Although she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t getting there.

  A rattling sound seized her heart and she snapped her eyes open. The bright red-orange light of the low sun left her blind. She blinked as the sandy landscape came into focus, but no snake lay before her. Turning her head, she scanned her surroundings, but saw nothing but sand.

  Then the ground before her started to ripple like waves as the sand shifted and a long body emerged. Scales appeared, hardly a shade removed from the color of the sand. Thicker around than her arm and nearly twice as long as she stood tall, it surfaced, bearing fangs and a jaw that looked powerful enough to sever a hand in one clean stroke. This beast was no rattlesnake, at least not anything like those she’d seen before. The size, of course, gave the first indicator, but it also had a rigid back and wider head. Fear pulled her backwards, though slowly. She knew how fast snakes could strike, and no more than a foot lay between her and the thing’s mouth. Rattlesnake venom was deadly in many of the cases she saw back in the village, and the few who lived owed thanks to immediate help from others. Oleja was alone.

  This must have been a mutant, like the Gila monsters and the eclipsers. The raiders mentioned mutant rattlesnakes, and one of them said something about the venom taking on different properties. The details were lost to her as her mind prioritized yelling at her to get out of its striking range.

  A forked tongue flicked between its teeth and it rattled again. The rattle sang a shrill note, a different sound than its non-mutated counterparts. Slowly, carefully, she drew an arrow and nocked it. She kept her movements as unthreatening as she could manage while preparing to kill. She raised her bow and aimed for the head.

  The snake lunged. The suddenness made her jump and she fired. A fountain of sand sprayed up as the arrow sunk into the ground. The snake had better aim.

  Pain flared through her left leg. Oleja screamed and dropped to the ground. The snake writhed, twisting its body around as she pulled it through the sand, but its grip on her leg clamped too tight, and its long, sharp fangs were buried deep in her flesh. Dropping her bow, she went instead for her knife. Blade in hand, she swung blindly, the pain clouding her vision. The snake fell still.

  Oleja looked down. The head hung limp and only half-attached to the body, the other half cut through by the blade of her knife. As it died, the snake’s hold on her loosened, but the fangs held it pinned to her leg. She pried it out quickly with the tip of her knife, sending another bout of pain rearing through her. Blood dripped from two fine holes.

/>   What had the raiders said about mutant rattlesnake venom? Her head spun. She couldn’t remember. The group’s faces blurred together, and their names disappeared in the sand.

  Her breaths came quick and ragged. She needed a bandage on her wound. She could walk if she just bandaged herself. The venom wouldn’t kill her. She was going to be fine. If anyone could tough their way through it, she could. Death was not an option. Never had been, never would be.

  Bandage.

  She found a scrap of some old fabric in her bag, perhaps once attached to a tattered bit of clothing. Pants, maybe? It didn’t matter. She wrapped it tight around her wound. Blood stained it through in moments. It didn’t matter. She got to her feet.

  Her vision went fuzzy. No, it was only the sand, everywhere she looked. Or maybe it was the sand and her vision was fuzzy. She couldn’t tell.

  How long ago did she last drink water? Her mouth felt so dry. She tried to pull the cotton out, but it moved deeper, deeper into her throat until it stuck there and she couldn’t breathe. She coughed, and the action made her lurch forward.

  She stumbled two steps forward, and then two more. Her left foot only stepped on spikes; hot sand and nails coated the bottom of that foot. She looked back up. She had to go towards the sun—she had to keep moving.

  More pain. Her left leg threatened to give out. She clenched her teeth and pushed through the pain and the shaking of her mind. This wouldn’t be her end, she had so much more to do. Her people were out there. She was going to rescue them, be the hero. She needed to be the hero. Like Tor. Ude still waited for her. He believed in her, he had to know she’d get back there. No matter what it took. A little pain in her leg was nothing.

  The ground swung up and slammed her hard in the face and chest.