‘What did Pale—I mean, what did Niko say to that? Jeez, Jay, you’re going to have me calling him that.’
‘Well, you’re not allowed. Anyway, he said I was right.’
Jay glanced at Peri sidelong, the tilt of his head reflecting the way the falcon cocked her rounded head. He was taller than Peter and heavily muscled with skin that gleamed like polished wood. Short black hair stood up from his broad forehead. His thick brows arched slightly over long, dark eyes. His mouth was wide, with the elegant curve of his upper lip longer than his lower lip. Elaborate abstract blue tattoos ringed his massive upper arms. Peri assumed that, like Mama’lena, he must be from the Islands. ‘I’ve taken a risk for you two. Make sure I don’t regret it.’
‘Thank you,’ said Peri.
‘So what did you and Niko decide?’ said Finch.
‘She stays. We need to know more about her.’
‘What is this for?’ Peri held up her wrist with its grey bracelet.
Jay frowned. ‘That is your monitor. It kept you secure while you were recovering in the safest place we had for you. It also tells me where you are at all times. Don’t try to remove it. You cannot.’
‘Oh.’ Peri felt as if the breath had been knocked out of her. So that was why Jay had appeared the moment she left the cave. These people were really serious about something, but what was it? Why did they see her as a threat? ‘What about these?’ Peri said, pointing to Hugo’s bandages.
Jay considered her. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Tired.’
‘And your hands and feet?’
‘Tingling.’
Jay nodded. ‘Frostbite,’ he said. ‘Or frostnip, probably. You were coated with ice when we caught you and both of you are covered in bruises. You took a pounding from the hail.’
Jay squatted next to Peri, the falcon still on his wrist. He drew a small kit out of a pocket in his trousers and from it took out an injecting pen. ‘Hold still.’
He pressed the pen to Hugo’s arm, then took out a second pen and pressed it to the skin of Peri’s shoulder. ‘Analgesic,’ he said. ‘You’ve both had narcotics against the pain during the initial rewarming. You’ve also had shots against tetanus, antibiotics against infection and anti-inflammatories against further damage from inflammatory mediators. Your bandages are covering aloe vera dressing to aid the skin in healing. His dressings should come off later today. He was subject to minor frostnip only. Babies can be such tough little buggers.’ Jay ruffled Hugo’s hair.
‘Fortunately you had him right next to your skin,’ Jay continued. ‘That’s a good way to prevent frostbite. Though a better one would be to avoid being sucked up into a supercell storm to a height of over nine thousand metres.’
‘Nine thousand metres!’
‘Yes. Higher than Mount Everest. Jet aeroplanes used to cruise at around that altitude but it’s not recommended for most fliers. We call it the death zone. You endured temperatures of minus fifty degrees Celsius, perhaps even lower. A handful of fliers have survived similar experiences but it is not the norm.’
‘Why did we live?’
Jay shrugged. ‘I’d say it’s because you’re both very young and resilient and you lost consciousness. Your heart and metabolism slowed down in the blackout, which enabled you to survive the hypothermia and lack of oxygen at that altitude.’
Peri shuddered. ‘It happened so fast—faster than you can imagine.’
‘Not faster than I could imagine,’ said Jay.
Peri almost smiled at the magnificent condescension in his tone. Who could he be, to say such a thing so grandly?
‘But your ascent was almost inconceivably rapid. You two rocketed from about four hundred metres to over nine thousand metres in less than fifteen minutes. That’s quite a ride.’
‘How do you know how high the storm took me?’ said Peri.
Jay shot Peri a glance as sharp as the falcon’s. ‘You really don’t know?’ he said.
Peri shook her head.
‘That’s interesting,’ said Jay. ‘We’ll leave it at that for now.’
The falcon moved restlessly on his fist. ‘May I?’ Peri said, extending her hand.
Jay shook his head. ‘No. You don’t touch a hunting bird.’ He turned to Finch. ‘I’ve been flying her at hack for a month now and she’s still trained. That’s good for a haggard hawk. Sweetest-natured haggard I’ve ever had.’
Peri dropped her hand.
‘Jay is our strongest flier by far,’ said Finch. ‘You’re lucky he’s one of the ones who found you in the storm.’
E-chup-e-chup-e-chup, said the falcon, looking at Jay, the notes so ringing Peri felt them in her bones. Shaheen swivelled her gaze back to Peri and Hugo.
‘Which does make us wonder,’ said Finch, ‘why you and Hugo were out there in those conditions.’
‘Yes. Of course. I—it was a mistake. Of course. You saw how fast the storm blew up. I had no idea . . .’ Well, that was true enough. ‘I was visiting my—my aunt and I was taking Hugo back to the City. I thought it would be safe to fly. I was wrong.’
‘I see,’ said Finch. Peri could see they didn’t believe her. She looked away. It was better to keep on with questions of her own.
‘How long was I, was I . . .?’
‘You were unconscious all day yesterday. We brought you and the baby in late the day before.’
‘Oh.’ That meant it was Friday morning. Zeke Fowler would not know yet that she would fail to keep her word. Where was she? Was she close enough to the City that she might still make it back in time for Zeke to help her give Hugo back?
‘Yes,’ said Finch. ‘The little fellow cried for you but you had to sleep.’
Peri looked up at the swath of dull green and brown bush, streaked vertically white and satiny grey, rolling up like smoke from the river bank opposite.
‘Where are we?’
Jay ignored the question and, turning to Finch, said, ‘Shaheen will need to gorge sometime in the next few days. If we take her to the bramble farm there should be plenty of rabbits and maybe a few small birds for her.’
Peri guessed they would not tell her where they were until they knew more about her. Hugo pulled away and sat up. Peri tucked her breast back into her shirt, which was tattered, like all her skims, from the storm, and studied Jay, who wore only a pair of military-style trousers with the cuffs rolled to mid-calf and faded to the no-colour of bleached grass, a large knife in a sheath belted around his narrow waist, and the thick glove upon which perched the falcon. Finch was clothed in drab grey shirt and shorts.
Peri risked another question. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘We’re learning to fly,’ said Finch, so flatly that Peri could hear there was a whole world hidden within the words.
‘Oh,’ said Peri. Anyone who could survive the storm that had nearly killed her and Hugo must know how to fly in ways she’d hardly dared to dream were possible.
‘I wish I could stay with you for a few days,’ said Peri. ‘Learn more about how you fly.’
‘You’ll get your wish,’ said Jay.
‘But I can’t stay,’ said Peri, her heart thudding in her chest at the steeliness in Jay’s voice.
‘It’s not your decision,’ said Jay, his voice deep and harsh. ‘You’ll stay until I’ve decided it’s safe for us that you leave. If you leave. We saw you weren’t alone in that storm. Not everyone has a Raptor after them. That’s too much heat for us.’
‘That’s why I have to go,’ said Peri, hearing her voice tighten, rise in pitch. ‘I have to take Hugo to safety.’
Jay laughed. ‘Whoever is after you has no chance of finding you here, believe me. You aren’t going anywhere till we’re sure of you. Don’t try to leave without my permission.’ He waved his hand at the bracelet on Peri’s wrist.
‘Understand me? That monitor can do more than just track you.’
‘I understand,’ Peri said. No point arguing with Jay now; she had to make him see he could trust her and she’d have to do it quickly.
‘Do you realise the Raptor didn’t survive the storm?’ said Finch.
‘Did you kill him?’ said Peri.
‘No,’ said Jay. ‘We just didn’t save him. Our only option was to save you and Hugo.’
‘Thank you,’ said Peri, feeling her words to be inadequate, though her gratitude was tinged with anxiety. She was now a prisoner. How far would they go to protect themselves? They’d let the Raptor die, after all.
‘You will thank me,’ said Jay, staring hard at her, ‘by doing as you’re told.’
Hugo rubbed his eyes violently. ‘He’s tired,’ said Peri, dropping her eyes from Jay’s gaze. ‘Is there somewhere safe I can put him down for a nap?’
Finch led Peri past the river flat and then turned along a stream spilling into the river. Peri squatted down and wet the edge of her shirt, using it to scrub at the dirtiest patches on Hugo’s skin, but that only thinned the dirt and spread it over more of him. She gave up and pulled one of his shirts from the waistband. Later there would be time to wash him properly.
‘We had him playing in the sand by the river early this morning,’ Finch said. ‘I’m not surprised he’s tired.’ She stopped on a miniature white- sand beach. ‘In there,’ she said, pointing to a track leading into thick brush against an overhanging rock wall. Peri followed the track until it opened out into a sand-floored shelter under the overhang. A young man lay on his side, cushioned on his wings, dozing on a wafer-thin mat. A khaki mosquito net was fastened so that it covered most of the area of the shelter. Peri settled Hugo onto another mat, which was surprisingly comfortable, though it was hardly thicker than the sheet covering it.
‘Put this on baby,’ said Finch, handing her a grey bottle, ‘and yourself, every morning and evening. Cover all of you, especially ankles and wrists.’
‘What is it?’
‘Military-grade mosquito repellent. We have some nasties out here and what they carry you do not want.’
Peri knelt next to Hugo to spread the astringent gel over him. Then she covered herself with it. Its fumes made her eyes water.
‘I have to stay with Hugo,’ Peri said.
Finch shrugged. ‘Remember what Jay said. He’s not kidding. You owe him your life. And Hugo’s. Don’t forget that.’
Peri nodded. Later she would make Finch see why it was so important for Peri to take Hugo away to safety.
After lunch, some of which Hugo vomited back up over Peri, and after she’d cleaned him and changed his padding and washed them both and he’d settled into his afternoon nap, Peri found her eyes closing again. She was still exhausted in mind and body.
Late that afternoon she was awoken by the thud of running feet. Calls of ‘Glass-off! Glass-off! Come on!’ rang through the trees. She and Hugo were alone in the shelter.
Peri picked up Hugo and carried him towards the river flat. A young woman with green and scarlet wings and long dark hair pulled into a ponytail pushed past her.
‘What is it?’ said Peri. ‘What’s glass-off?’
The woman called back over her shoulder, ‘Jeez, you really are some kind of wuffo, aren’t you?’ and hurried on.
Peri found Finch on the river flat pulling on grey leggings and a long-sleeved grey top.
‘What’s going on? Is everything alright?’
Finch stared at her. ‘Are you serious?’ she said. ‘Glass-off! Couldn’t be better. Why don’t you come with us? Hey, Phoebe!’ The young woman who had pushed past Peri looked up from where she was hurriedly grooming her wings.
‘Take the little boy for a while, okay?’
‘No way,’ said Phoebe, returning to her rapid grooming. ‘I am not missing glass-off for anyone, not even you, Finch.’
‘Okay, okay. You’d think we didn’t get glass-off here every few nights at this time of year, the way everyone’s so precious about it.’
Phoebe paused, her expression serious. ‘The way I see it is this: I’m only going to get to fly so many glass-offs in my whole life, right? And glass-off’s only about, oh, ten times better than sex. Even Raf admits that.’
‘Alright, but you’re helping later on, you understand?’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ muttered Phoebe, slipping away from them towards the cliff edge.
‘Just bring baby with you,’ said Finch, slapping on mosquito repellent. ‘Glass-off’s about as safe as it gets when you’re flying anyway.’ Straightening up, she handed Peri the repellent, then looked her up and down. ‘No possible way can you fly in those skims anymore,’ she said. ‘Tell you what. Grab the sling for baby and meet me back here. I’ll have something more, ah, suitable for you to change into.’
When Peri returned to the river flat, Finch handed her a set of soft bluish-grey leggings and top. As Peri pulled them on she kept examining them, puzzled. Finch laughed at her. ‘Don’t try to decide what colour they are,’ she said. ‘The whole point is that they’re about the best camouflage you can wear. Against clouds they’re grey-white and against sky they’re whatever shade of blue the sky is.’
‘They feel like silk,’ said Peri as she put Hugo into his sling.
Finch grunted. ‘Well, they’re not. They’re many times more precious than that. Take care of them. You won’t be getting another set, that’s for damn sure.’
Peri followed Finch along the sandy path to the cliff edge and took off a few seconds after her. It seemed that all the fliers here, fifteen or so in all, were now strung out in a line above the cliff. As she took off she felt the most powerful smooth lift, strong as water, sliding her up a sunlit mountain of air, and now she was floating high over the ridge and everywhere evenly streamed upwards this buoyant transparent ocean.
This was no mere thermal: this was massive release of all the day’s heat from the valley and now she and Hugo, silent and breathless, were sliding along the plateau of risen glass, with the other fliers suspended all around them as if in honey, some also silent, others whooping and laughing. Below the eastern cliffs the valley was sunk in an indistinct indigo sea, washed with purple along the ridgelines, and down in the dusk of the valley floor floated slivers and bubbles of liquid steel—water catching the last light—but up on the ridgeline it was still golden afternoon with the trees shining green and white-trunked in the simmering sinking sun and the sky was still blue and the clouds were catching a rim of steel fire along their undersides as luminous as the fragmented water in the valley and it was singing with such clarity that Peri knew she had never truly seen mountains or valleys or water or clouds before.
‘Watch out for the cooling bumps,’ sang Finch as she sailed past, her wings still and poised as she slid down one side of the glassy mountain. ‘They’ll catch you round about sunset as the air starts to cool off. But till then—hey, it’s like flying in champagne! Champagne with all the bubbles rising and it’s taking you right to the top of the glass. Just swirl around in it as long as you can.’
Once the sun had fully set and the glassy air developed ripples and slumps and fractures, Hugo started from his dreaming trance and began to grizzle. For the first time while flying with Peri he struggled against the sling, whining and kicking.
Peri dropped towards the cliff face. She did not want Hugo to shatter the air with his crying while the other fliers were still enjoying the final drifts of glass-off.
When Peri landed, she found Finch already on the river flat, eating a cold supper, which she shared with Peri and Hugo. ‘Just tell me how good was that?’
‘I don’t believe in heaven,’ said Peri. ‘But I just experienced it anyway.’
Finch laughed. ‘Funny you should say that. This is actually called, on some old maps, Heavener Rid
ge. So you just experienced the Heavener glass-off.’
Once they’d finished eating, Finch told Peri to put Hugo to bed. ‘Phoebe will stay with him,’ she said.
Peri was not happy about leaving Hugo in the shelter with the brusque young woman but he was already drifting into sleep as Finch shepherded Peri back to the cliff.
‘Where are we going?’ said Peri as she pushed her way through the brush along the track, which gleamed faintly in the gathering starlight. A heady night scent rose around her, a dry tang of bark and shrub, a wild perfume of leaf and flower and faint yet distinct river odour.
‘You’ll see. This is our work,’ Finch said in a low voice. ‘Finding out. We work on this ten to twelve hours a day. Not only in the air but on the ground, thinking, talking, comparing. Working out the technical- ities, the specs. Pushing the envelope. Do you believe the doctors who gave us the treatments know the possibilities? Of course they don’t. Most have never flown themselves. And Flight Gym instructors are used to controlled conditions and they’re used to working with beginners. Flight Gym’s a bloody aviary. It can only give you the barest beginnings of the skills you need. We’ve got to figure out what the real possibilities of Flight are. There are people who know about the mechanics of flying from aircraft and birds, and believe me, we study what they say, but we are dealing with Flight, with how it feels and works in your own body, and nobody knows much about that yet.’
‘That’s why you have Shaheen,’ said Peri.
‘Of course.’
‘Are you the only ones doing this?’ said Peri.
Finch balanced on the cliff edge as she stared into the dark, up at the brightest stars Peri had ever seen. Brighter than they’d been over the sea and even brighter than at Janeane’s.
‘No, we’re in touch with other groups,’ said Finch. ‘I’d hate to think it was just up to us. You can’t do this in the City; there’s too much else to do and too many other pressures and distractions, especially if you’re rich enough to have wings. And there’s not the variety of conditions to practise in. And you need a group. If you try to do it on your own you might end up turning Wild. So, do you feel rested? You should. You’ve slept and glass-off is just happy hour, eh? It’s not exactly hard work.’
When We Have Wings Page 28