“No, Mother. I do not.”
So Celesta aided her son in making the globe larger still until its size dwarfed the moon.
—The Book of Celesta
CHAPTER
TEN
Agreement
The day after the Skychild’s adventure, Tierra closeted herself in her quarters with River to discuss the event.
Tierra was not certain what to think about Skye and his behavior. He appeared to be more subdued than normal when she saw him that morning, but she felt his general attitude had not altered in the slightest. He was a proud man; that much was evident. What was not clear, however, was why he was so different from the other Skychildren in the castle. After making an initial attempt to flee, Skychildren rarely gave any trouble, and they were generally subservient enough even for the queen’s taste. When Wisteria’s slave had been captured a few years before, he had only been the slightest bit belligerent.
Skye, however, had barged onto the scene like a feral garm, his head held high and his eyes afire with pride and anger. He was not cowed by his situation, as his audacious escape attempt the previous night had shown.
Tierra felt as though she was missing a crucial clue concerning the reason for his attitude. It might be related to social stature, she supposed, in which case, Skye was likely above the other three slaves in the Skychild hierarchy. But Tierra was determined to keep her suspicions to herself. No one else in the Groundbreather castle appeared to be interested in the matter, likely because they did not think about Skychildren in any context other than as slaves who did their bidding or as pests who raided their settlements. Though Skye was her slave, Tierra had no desire to make his life any more difficult than it already was by calling unnecessary attention to him.
River was of a different mind about Skychild slaves. Upon hearing that Skye had been given no actual punishment after attempting to escape, River told Tierra, “There is only one thing you can do now. You must beat him into submission. A slave like that has to be forced to realize who is in charge. If you coddle him, then he will continue to think he can do whatever he wants without having to face any consequences.”
“I do not coddle him,” Tierra said. “He is sent back and forth all day doing errands and manual labor. He does not sit back, eating and napping like my sister’s cat all day long.”
“Or like your sister herself,” River muttered with a slight grin. “I do not know if you noticed, but Wisteria’s hips are showing the same signs of widening as that useless baby elephant she pampers so much.”
Tierra laughed at that, but rather than comment, she returned to the subject at hand. “Regardless, he is kept busy at all times, and his life here is not an enjoyable one. Besides, I do not wish to beat him. Skye is right—beating another living being like that is barbaric.”
“You actually talk to your slave?” River hissed. “Tierra, your mother will feed you to the garms if she learns you converse with one of those heathens. You have to ensure your slave knows his place, and fraternizing with him is not the way to go about it!”
“I do not ‘fraternize’ with him! I just happened to be paying attention while he was insulting our people.”
River let out a groan. “You are too soft-hearted to be a princess. I think your mother gave all her backbone to your sister and forgot to leave any for you.”
Tierra stood abruptly and walked over to Strix, who was watching her with interested dark eyes. She fed him the nuts that were stashed in her pocket and told River, “That may be, but I was given a large dose of ethics, and I think the way we have been acting toward the Skychildren is wrong.”
Her pet bird let out a squawk of disappointment upon seeing she had no more treats left, and she grabbed a few more from her desk drawer. After feeding him those, she turned toward River and wiped her hands on her dress.
River had been eyeing the bird with disgust, and now that she had Tierra’s attention again, she said, “Those Skychildren do not belong here. They should have stayed in the sky instead of sticking their noses in our business. Anything that happens to them is their own fault.”
“But what if what happened to them was not their own fault? Can we not let them go and make everybody happy?”
“If we do that, then the Skychildren will think they can do whatever they want, and we will never see an end to their meddling. The threat of capture and slavery helps us keep them in line. At least, it would if everyone punished their slaves properly.”
“I seriously doubt that the threat of slavery deters them. They have been raiding us for eons, after all.”
“Would you have us simply roll over and allow them to come and take what they please?”
Tierra waved her cousin off. It was true that Skychild raids on outlying settlements were problematic, and though the Groundbreathers had been able to develop some countermeasures, they had never quite brought those raids to an end. Despite all that, Tierra felt there was something inherently wrong about the entire situation. Surely the Skychildren and Groundbreathers could come to some accord if only they would make the attempt. And as for Skye himself . . .
“I think he wants to go home,” Tierra whispered, her heart going out to him. “Is that really so wrong?”
“If he liked his home, then he should not have left it in the first place.”
“I do not think—” Tierra began, only to cut off at the sound of a knock on the door. She looked at River, who shrugged, and then she said, “Come in.”
The Skychild they had been discussing entered the room, and his lip curled up at the sight of River. “I’m here to clean up after the bird,” he said. Skychildren were quick speakers, and Tierra did not initially understand what he had said until he briefly glanced at Strix. One of the most unenviable tasks Skye performed was the daily clean-up of bird droppings. “I wasn’t aware you had . . . company.”
“If you are here to clean, then get to it, slave,” River commanded, “and stop wasting our time.” She looked at Tierra, and then, acting as if the Skychild were not present, she said, “I really do not understand why that infernal bird was foisted on you instead of Wisteria. Traditionally, should the eldest not be bestowed with that dubious honor?”
Tierra watched as Skye tended to his duties. He looked rather tired—no doubt from having been allowed little sleep after his attempt to escape the castle—and she wondered whether everyone in the castle had him running ragged as punishment since all she had done was give him a good scolding. But though he might have been fatigued, she could still see that ever-present stiffness in his back. Had he ever even allowed himself to truly relax in the sky realm? Somehow, she doubted it.
He seemed to be hiding a deep pain in his heart—a pain that surpassed the injury he felt at having to serve as a slave to the Groundbreathers. She had to wonder if even being freed would be enough to bring a smile to his face. Was there anything that could?
To River, who was watching her expectantly, Tierra said, “You know my sister is much too fastidious to have a bird in her room, much less one that . . .”
“Looks like something her obese cat coughed up?” River supplied.
On his perch, Strix flapped his wings and squawked in apparent protest. Tierra looked at the bird in curiosity, wondering if he truly understood what they were discussing.
“Well,” Tierra said, “I am not certain I would say that—”
“Just like a Groundbreather to speak in such a way about another species,” Skye said, sneering at River. “You should hear what he said about you.”
Tierra gave him a startled look. Strix truly had understood what they were discussing?
“And I will remind you that you are a slave,” River said before turning away again. Her air of disinterest appeared to be designed to rile Skye, but the Skychild simply ignored her and went about his business.
Tierra, however, was intrigued, and she called his attention back to her. “So it is true that Skychildren can speak with birds
?”
“Most of them don’t have anything interesting to say, but yes, we can communicate.” Skye then affected an air of nonchalance. “I suppose Groundbreathers can’t speak to any animals? Oh, that’s right—you speak with earthworms.” He gave River a pointed look. “That sounds like it is just about on your level.”
The object of his taunt threw another angry glance at Skye, leading Tierra to think with some amusement that he was much better at getting a rise out of River than the reverse.
“You really are every animal’s best friend, Tierra,” River said after a moment. “I guess that explains your soft spot for Skychildren.”
Tierra was instantly forced to revise her opinion, as she could feel the heat of Skye’s anger. River paid it no heed and continued blithely on: “Remember that frog with the broken leg you found when we were kids?”
Tierra felt her cheeks warming. She really had tried hard to save the poor thing. “I do.”
“I thought you would never stop crying when it died,” River said with a chuckle.
“It was a pitiful creature which needed my help,” she protested.
“So is he,” River replied with a jerked thumb in Skye’s direction.
“Skychildren don’t keep slaves,” Skye said. “Due to that fact alone, I’d say we’re more civilized than you Groundbreathers.”
This time, River did not deign to respond. Instead, she rose from her chair. After giving Skye a dirty look, she turned to Tierra and said, “You should exercise control over your slave, Tierra. If your mother learns of the manner in which he speaks to us, he will be lucky if he is only beaten.”
River then waltzed from the room without a backward glance, leaving an exasperated Tierra alone with a seething Skye.
“You really should not talk to River like that,” Tierra said pointedly. “She is correct, you know. My mother will not be happy if she ever hears you speaking with such disrespect.”
“You might consider me a slave,” was Skye’s reply, “but I don’t consider myself one. I don’t particularly care how Groundbreathers see me.”
The scorn in his voice put Tierra off, but she swallowed her anger, knowing he would not listen if she responded in kind. “I understand your reasoning, Skye, but in this castle, you are considered to be little more than an animal. You should at least attempt to keep your thoughts to yourself and your head down. I will not punish you for speaking your mind, but others will.”
Though he appeared to be considering an angry retort, Skye seemed to master himself for perhaps the first time since Tierra had known him. Patiently, she waited for him to respond, knowing he needed to learn how to control himself if he was going to survive in the Groundbreather castle. Her words were only the truth—most Groundbreathers would not hesitate to respond with force should he step out of line and speak to them in such a fashion.
“I suppose you’re correct,” Skye finally replied, though the words were grudgingly forced from his lips. His face softened slightly, and he peered at Tierra. “Will your situation be difficult if I’m insubordinate?”
Tierra was nonplussed by the question. Given Skye’s unabashed and loudly stated opinions regarding Groundbreathers, she had not expected him to care about her situation. Perhaps he was not as prejudiced as she had thought. Or perhaps he realized that she was trying to make his situation as pleasant as possible. Regardless, she was touched by the realization that he did not want his behavior to have a negative effect on her well-being.
“I think your actions will harm you instead of me,” Tierra replied in a soft tone. “I would rather worry about you.”
Skye seemed to consider this for a moment before he nodded slowly. “That’s good to know.”
At that, Tierra rose. After admonishing him to remember what he had agreed to, she left her quarters. She wanted to take in some sunshine and think on the situation. She had never thought it would be this complicated to have a slave.
In despair, Celesta looked upon what Terrain had done to the creatures she had made. She loved the animals of the sky like they were her own children, and she grieved the loss of them from the firmament.
Fury soon overtook her grief. Her rage filled the sky with storms, and her tears rained from the heavens, lashing the land and causing the dark-eyed Terrain to hide from her anger.
In that moment, Celesta pledged the wrath of her vengeance upon the son who had strayed from the path she had placed before him.
—The Book of Celesta
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
Punishment
Skye had much to think about after the confrontation in Tierra’s room.
River’s comments had not come as a surprise. His position in the Groundbreather castle had been made abundantly clear. Tierra was correct in that she was the only Groundbreather who had treated him as something more than an animal. The Groundwalkers were another matter entirely. For the most part, they did not even speak to Skye, and he had the impression that Groundbreathers looked down on Groundwalkers every bit as much as they did on Skychildren, though for different reasons and in different ways. The Groundwalkers, for their part, seemed to understand their position in the Groundbreather kingdom, and while they were not as docile as the Skychild slaves, they did not call attention to themselves either.
As Skye considered his situation, he was forced to acknowledge that Tierra spoke sense. Though it galled him to admit it, he was currently under the power of these people, and it would make sense for him to be less . . . forceful in his opinions. He would never endeavor to make things easy for the Groundbreathers, but there was no point in intentionally provoking them.
Unfortunately, his life was soon to change for the worse despite his new resolution. He was not able to determine whether River had brought his behavior to the attention of the queen or whether he had simply not been as deferential as the queen would have liked, but he came to royal notice in a most painful manner.
A guard had sent Skye to the great hall, claiming that he was wanted for the purpose of corralling some ground-snakes. Skye hated having anything to do with the wretched creatures; venom from one bite would be enough to end the life of the largest Skychild, and he thought that fact alone meant it made more sense for the Groundbreathers to take care of their filthy pets themselves. Still, regardless of how nonsensical it was, Skye wanted to keep a low profile, so he grabbed a basket and one of the hooked sticks meant for such a purpose and went to the great hall.
Ground-snakes occasionally had a nasty habit of grouping together in inconvenient places. In general, Queen Sequoia seemed to employ the pests for the purpose of intimidating guests, but sometimes it seemed as if Groundbreather royalty did not have as much control over the snakes as they wanted others to believe. On this particular day, Queen Sequoia, who was dressed in the formal robes she and her husband always wore on such occasions, was speaking with some members of her court as a large pile of ground-snakes congregated close by, and if the expression on her face were any indicator, she was in an especially foul mood. The courtier talking to her only appeared to be making her cheeks grow redder and redder with every word he spoke.
Skye had to hide a smile—it served Queen Sequoia right to be subjected to the presence of sniveling Groundbreathers in her pathetic court—and he began scooping up the snakes into his long-handled basket. He wanted nothing more than to recoil from the slithering creatures, but he refused to give Sequoia and the nearby Wisteria the pleasure of watching him squirm.
He froze briefly as the giant white garm near the queen stood and walked over to him. Its big pink nose sniffed at the basket, and Skye watched it with something akin to horror. What would the queen do to him if her favorite pet were fatally bitten by one of the snakes?
But then the garm looked up at Skye, and after smelling the air in front of him a few times, it padded back to its mistress.
Skye suppressed a sigh of relief, feeling as if a disaster had been averted. Unfortunately, how
ever, he relaxed too soon.
It was as he was walking away with a full basket in hand that it happened. He turned his head to look at Queen Sequoia one more time before he left, taking a strange pleasure in the sight of her anger. His eyes met with the queen’s and held for a few seconds too long. The corners of his mouth lifted up slightly. And then something in the queen snapped.
“Slave!” she hissed, arresting his steps and causing him to move his body to face her completely. “Are you so much of a fool that you refuse to show proper deference to your queen?”
Skye could not help it. In spite of all his resolutions to keep his head down, he lifted his chin higher and told her, “You are not my queen.”
Her lip curved upward into a self-satisfied sneer. “I shall take pleasure in breaking you, slave.” Her eyes sought out the nearest guardsman, and she snapped, “Go fetch my daughter! I want her here to see this.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the guard said with a bow.
Perhaps Skye should have felt fear or at least mild apprehension, but instead, he worked on molding his emotions into cold stone. He had known better, yet he had opened his mouth and given the queen the excuse she had been waiting for. What he had said was true, but it had been foolish to say such a thing to her.
He sat the basket down and then moved several steps away from it, watching as the snakes began to slither out of their confinement, undoing all his work.
He looked toward the doorway, ignoring the whispers of others in the room. He did not care what they were saying; their opinions meant nothing. His life, it seemed, had become a constant waiting game. If he was not biding his time to escape, then he was waiting to hear the next task to be assigned to him. It was as if he were living in Terrain’s hell rather than experiencing a true life.
On Wings of Air (Earth and Sky Book 1) Page 11