by Jann Rowland
“And all this time we were traveling, you did not see fit to tell me just who you were?” Tierra said, crossing her arms. “Did you not think it an important detail for a princess to know?”
“Explaining who I was could not have been done until you knew about my home,” Canyon answered calmly. “Had we explained both issues while on the surface, you would have called attention to my people if you had managed to escape.”
“I think your people have called plenty of attention to themselves just by helping kidnap a princess,” Tierra snapped. “Of course, the kidnapping of a princess cannot be compared to the murder of the king of the Groundbreathers above-ground. Did you think no one would notice the difference between your people and mine?”
“The Surfacers may know we are different,” Canyon said, “but that is all they know. That knowledge alone is not enough to endanger my people.”
“I suppose whether you are correct or not matters little in the end,” Tierra said, tossing her head back in frustration before looking the man in the eye. “But you must let me go, Your Majesty. Please let me go.”
The king looked away. “I cannot do that.”
“What is the point of having me here?” Tierra cried. “Why did you order my capture in the first place?”
Canyon’s eyes sought out Quicksilver, who was speaking to some people several yards away, and Tierra felt her aggravation increase. King or not, Canyon was not truly in charge. But why Quicksilver would lead this elaborate charade himself remained unclear.
“Your capture was regrettable,” Canyon murmured, “but it was necessary. That will be made clear to you when the time comes.”
River, who had been unusually quiet, let out a bitter laugh. “You underground Groundbreathers are all the same. You tell us to wait for more answers, but all you ever give us are more questions.”
“There is more at work here than you know,” Canyon said. “You need only have patience—”
“I think we are out of that,” Tierra snapped.
“I am sorry to hear it,” Canyon said, his voice hardening. “But the situation is what it is, and at present, you must accept it. Now, if you will excuse me, there are some matters I must attend to.”
Sketching a short bow, the man turned and walked away. Within moments, he had entered the castle, leaving Tierra and River behind in the courtyard, which had largely emptied of people. Nobody from the traveling band was left except for them.
“Do you think we offended him?” River asked.
Tierra shot her a sour look. “I think that he offended us far too much for us to be concerned with his feelings.”
“Excuse me, Your Highness,” Violet said as she approached. “If you will follow us, we will see you to your quarters and help you settle in.”
Though uninclined to follow these people anywhere, Tierra directed a nod at Violet and fell into step along with River behind the three young women. She would wait for an opportunity to learn what was happening. If only the waiting had not been getting on her nerves.
Envy filled the heart of Celesta the sky goddess, and had they witnessed the sight, the Waterweavers would have quaked with fear, for the visage of a terrible goddess in her wrath was a sight no mortal could withstand.
In her envy, Celesta resolved to bear children of her own. Taking on the form of a beautiful woman, Celesta descended to the earth, where she seduced many Groundwalker men. Infants sprang from these unions, and she called them “Skychildren.”
But Celesta is a vain goddess, and she considered the raising of children to be beneath her. So she went into Groundwalker villages and replaced their infants with her newborn children, drowning the stolen babes in the waters near the dwellings of the Waterweavers, polluting the waters that had been beloved by Cascade and causing them to churn and froth. The Waterweavers continued to drink of the waters near their homes, and they grew to crave human flesh.
And when the Skychildren grew into adulthood, Celesta bid them to join her among the clouds. But like all flying abominations, the Skychildren could not remain afloat forever, and they fell from the sky.
So Celesta stole massive mountains and set them afloat in the sky. And the Skychildren cried out in glee, for they shunned the glorious offerings of the land and rejoiced in their ability to be nearer to the one who had created them.
And Terrain wept, for the wounds inflicted on his creation would never be healed.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Waves
“I am not happy with your insinuations about Terrain, Skychild.”
“I’m not concerned for your feelings,” Skye returned.
The people holding Tierra hostage had ridden away from the temple in the direction indicated by the priests, and it had been easy enough for Jasper to find their tracks to determine what direction Skye’s party should travel in. Skye had then taken Stardust up into the air to scout out the path in front of them, though that was merely a smokescreen. In truth, he had wished to ponder what he had discovered in the temple. Unfortunately, nothing made sense.
It did not help that Strix was uncommunicative and sullen, refusing Skye’s attempts to induce him to elaborate on his earlier words. Something about the glyphs on the walls had negatively affected the bird, and now Skye had more questions than ever about Celesta’s great weapon.
Unfortunately, Skye had not been able to stay in the sky indefinitely, and upon his return to the ground, Sequoia had pounced, wasting not an instant in voicing her displeasure. But Skye was not about to allow her to dictate his thoughts or actions.
“There is something going on here that is beyond the intrigues normally seen by our peoples,” Skye said. “That priest all but threatened the Skychildren with extinction, which is interesting, of course, considering your people cannot even reach mine in the sky. Groundbreathers typically confine their threats to whatever they intend to do to any Skychildren they capture. This threat against my people as a whole sounds more like some sort of grandiose scheme that your god would come up with.”
“You will desist in denigrating my god!” Sequoia exclaimed. “If you want our alliance to persist, I do not wish to hear of it again!”
Skye looked at Sequoia, knowing he had pushed her as far as she would go. She was so blinded by her devotion to Terrain that she was not about to listen to anything that was said against him, and if Skye were honest with himself, he knew he would feel the same if she attacked Celesta. Though convinced that Terrain was behind what was happening, he knew now was not the time to press the matter. Furthermore, Sequoia was not a person to whom he should make such claims.
“My apologies,” Skye said, inclining his head. “I am concerned for Tierra. I should not have spoken in such a manner.”
The look Sequoia gave him suggested she did not believe he had given up on the notion altogether, but she evidently decided that it was enough if he did not persist in his claims. Unfortunately, she turned her attention to a matter that Skye did not wish to discuss.
“Apology accepted. But I have another matter I wish to speak of. You have been keeping something from me concerning that bird, and I want to know what it is. Tell me now, if you please.”
Skye turned a sour eye on Sequoia.
“Well?” Sequoia pressed.
Skye considered holding out, but he finally relented. He knew she would not allow him to rest if he did not speak up.
“This must remain a complete secret, Sequoia,” Skye said sternly. “Though some of the events around the battle with the Seneschal were witnessed by a number of my people, only a select few know the entire story, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
Sequoia’s eyes moved to where the other Skychildren were setting up camp with Jasper’s assistance. “And this is why you insisted on speaking without the others listening?”
“Yes,” Skye replied. “Gusty knows the full truth, but other than him and Tierra and one of my close friends in the sky realm, no one has pieced the clues together. To my knowle
dge, anyway.”
Nodding, Sequoia said, “Very well. I will keep what you tell me in confidence.”
At her look of expectation, Skye sighed and forced himself to speak. “The bird traveling with us is actually the Fenik.”
Sequoia’s eyes widened in surprise. “The Fenik? But the Fenik has been lost for millennia!”
“The identity of the Fenik was lost, yes. The Fenik itself has existed under your noses for many years. You knew the Fenik as Strix, Tierra’s pet bird.”
Had the discussion not been so serious in nature, Skye might have felt a measure of mirth at the sight of Sequoia’s stupefaction. Soon, however, her eyes narrowed, and she regarded him with a measure of her old imperious will showing through. Oddly enough, the sight comforted Skye.
“I believe you must tell me exactly what has happened to make you believe in such a ridiculous story,” she said. “How could the Fenik have reemerged after all these years?”
Nodding, Skye proceeded to do that, telling her about his and Tierra’s escape from the sky realm, the Battle of Skymount, the discovery of the Fenik’s true nature, and the subsequent return to his original form. Sequoia listened with strained patience, asking questions to clarify and further her understanding. At the end of his account, she sat back, regarding Skye with speculation in her gaze.
“I might ask why I was not informed of these matters.”
Skye shrugged. “I informed Tillman of the bulk of it. It was his choice not to speak to you about it. I wasn’t about to engage you in any unnecessary conversation.”
That seemed to mollify Sequoia a little, and she nodded, though abruptly. Skye could see that the mention of her late husband caused the woman pain, though she hid it behind her typical domineering manner.
“And the temple? What happened there with the Fenik?”
Frowning, Skye shook his head. “In truth, I’m not sure. He looked at the same frescoes we saw, but they seemed to unlock some suppressed memory for him. He would not give me any real details about what happened. He kept saying that he remembered and that he hated Celesta for what she had done to him.”
“Did your goddess not create him?”
Skye grimaced. “That’s what is written in the Book of Celesta, but he claims that Celesta only changed him, altering him from his original form and preventing him from fulfilling his original purpose.”
“So your goddess did not create the Fenik?”
Hands spread out in a gesture of futility, Skye shook his head. “I don’t know. I haven’t been able to get Strix to say anything else since. Though it may be difficult to imagine, the most powerful and dangerous creature the world has ever known seems to be pouting right now. If I order him to speak to me, I might be able to get him to respond, but he might not actually be truthful with me. He has a certain level of leeway that he can use to wriggle out of situations he does not like.”
“That is another thing, Skychild,” Sequoia said slowly. “I believe I must insist upon the surrender of this creature to my people. It is dangerous left in Skychild hands.”
Shaking his head, Skye said, “I can’t give him up. At present, I’m the only one who can control him. I don’t want to lose track of him again.”
“That is a dangerous power to put in the hands of one man,” Sequoia said darkly.
“It is,” Skye said. “But the Fenik is a creature of the Skychildren. He must remain with us.”
“You said yourself there is a chance that your goddess did not create the Fenik. How do you know the Fenik does belong to the Skychildren?”
Skye’s lip twitched in irritation. “Though everything I have been taught contradicts such a notion, it is possible that Celesta may not have originally created him. It is also possible that she did create him. Regardless of his origin, however, only the leader of the Skychildren may control him, as I have already proven.”
“Which is exactly why you should not have him,” Sequoia snapped. “Since you are the ones with access to whatever power he may possess, you should not be trusted to refrain from using it. Furthermore, if it is true that Celesta did not create the Fenik, then it is possible that Terrain created it. Perhaps Terrain created it for use by the Groundbreathers, and Celesta corrupted it to her own uses.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Skye asserted. He felt honor-bound to make a token protest, though he had also considered the possibility that Terrain may have had a hand in the Fenik’s creation.
“Something does not add up here, Skychild,” Sequoia said. “I do not know what the answers are, but I do not agree with your decision to keep the Fenik with you and your people.”
“You are free to have your opinion,” Skye said. “I am not changing my mind.”
“How does Tierra feel about how you think the Fenik should be handled?” Sequoia asked abruptly. “Does she agree with you?”
Skye paused for a moment. Though he did not want to admit the truth, he had no desire to lie either.
Reluctantly, he said at last, “Tierra seems to think as you do, but she respects my decision.”
Sequoia nodded. “If Tierra does not mean to stop you, then I suppose our peoples will not be going to war over this.”
“Thank the stars for that,” Skye said wryly. He was not certain, but he thought Sequoia might have just made a joke. “Now that we have that out of the way, do you have any further questions about the Fenik? I am afraid there is much about him that I do not know myself.”
“For now, I have no more questions,” Sequoia said. “But I must tell you again that I believe you are making a mistake in keeping the Fenik. Your people are more likely to guess at the Fenik’s identity than the Groundbreathers who participated in the sky battle, and if one of your enemies in the sky puts the pieces together, it could rain down destruction upon everyone’s heads.”
“Your concerns are noted,” Skye said. “I will not change my mind on this.”
“You are fortunate to have Tierra on your side, Skychild,” Sequoia said. “Otherwise, we would not be having this cordial conversation.”
“You call this cordial?”
“As you well know, Skychild, you do not want to incur my wrath needlessly. Seeing as you have not quite done that, I would say that this conversation is indeed cordial.”
“If you say so, Your Majesty.”
Skye and his party continued on their journey soon after that. As they moved forward, however, there was an added layer of tension between Skye and Sequoia that Jasper, at least, picked up on. The enmity that had once existed between them had faded, yet both Skye and Sequoia felt themselves to be fighting a battle of wills pertaining to the safety and well-being of their peoples, and neither could forget who was on the other side.
Gusty made a few gently probing comments to Skye that were promptly deflected, but he dropped the subject upon seeing how it worsened Skye’s mood.
Jasper, however, had never shown himself to be concerned with how Skye felt, and he at last guided his horse up to ride beside the Skychild. Gusty, who was on Skye’s other side, took the hint and fell back.
“Her Majesty seems rather interested in that bird of yours now,” Jasper said with all the subtlety of a rock to the head.
“Does she?” Skye said vaguely. He knew it was too much to hope that Jasper would return to Sequoia’s side without making his opinions known.
“She also seems rather displeased with you. While I understand that the rulers of realms are entitled to some secrets, it is my duty to ensure that any dangers to my queen are eliminated.”
Skye snorted. “Is that a threat, Jasper?”
“You may take it as you will. If you believe it to be a threat, then you may take it as such.”
“You Groundbreathers are a pleasant lot, you know that?”
“We are cautious and realistic,” Jasper said, unfazed by the veiled insult. “We keep our feet firmly on the earth and our heads out of the clouds.”
“And we Skychildren live on the clouds,” Skye snapped. “Man
y of my people have nothing but disdain for yours and your ground-bound state.”
Jasper gazed at Skye with that irritating knowing look of his. Though still feeling put out with the man, Skye decided to appease him; maybe then he would back off and leave Skye alone.
“You have nothing to fear from me. I mean the queen no harm.”
“I know,” Jasper said. “It is for that reason that I have not cleaved your head from your shoulders.”
Though he knew Jasper was being entirely truthful, Skye let out a bark of laughter. After a moment, he met the Groundbreather’s eyes, and a sense of understanding passed between them. As long as Sequoia and Skye were on good terms, Jasper would cause Skye no harm. Jasper was every bit the loyal garm when it came to his queen.
Skye opened his mouth to say something, only to be cut off as a roar resounded through the forest. Then two more roars vibrated the air.
Skye froze and looked at Jasper as Stardust danced nervously in place. “What kind of creatures are those?”
“I am not certain, but I think we are in their territory,” Jasper said. He was struggling to keep his horse from bolting, but he took a moment to glance back at the rest of their party. “Do you think we can escape from them?”
And then one of the creatures stepped into view, and Skye knew what the answer to Jasper’s question was.
A sable lion’s head with a silvery mane was joined with a goat’s head possessing sharp silver horns, and leathery wings sprouted from the shoulder of the creature’s forequarters, which were joined by hoofed hindquarters. The creature’s scaled tail whipped through the air in fury, and for a brief moment when the tail paused, Skye realized that it was not merely a tail, for the tail of no normal beast would ever come complete with fangs and unblinking yellow eyes.
“Chimeras,” Skye and Jasper groaned in unison.