On Wings of Air (Earth and Sky Book 1)

by Lelia Eye

  “Listen, little sister—” Wisteria began angrily, only to be cut off by her mother.

  “That is enough.” Sequoia glared at her daughters. “This pettiness between the two of you is not becoming, especially since you are making this display in front of servants and slaves.”

  Tierra turned her attention to her mother and said, “I cannot be certain what my sister saw, but I would never allow my slave to take liberties with me. I can use the collar if he ever attempts to try something.”

  Skye did not know what she meant by that, but he was not about to ask for clarification. His hide was on the line, and he had no intention of giving the queen any further reason to punish him.

  “Maybe you liked it,” Wisteria said with a malicious gleam in her eye. “Maybe you enjoyed the Skychild placing his filthy paws on you.”

  “Maybe you should mind your own business, Wisteria!” Tierra snapped.

  “Maybe I would if you could prove that you can handle your own.”

  “Girls, enough!” Sequoia barked, looking severely from one to the other. Tierra continued to glare at Wisteria, who regarded her with an air of contempt and superiority. The white garm had risen to its feet, agitated by the commotion, and it stared at Skye with some undiscernible emotion.

  The queen turned back to Skye when her daughters maintained their silence. She reached down absentmindedly to stroke the garm’s head, and it relaxed once more and put its head down on its paws, though its eyes still glittered as it watched Skye.

  “You were not aware of the fact that you must not touch a member of the royal family?” Queen Sequoia asked.

  Feigning surprise, Skye replied, “I was not. I humbly beg your forgiveness. I would not have done so had I known. I was merely instructing Her Highness on how to use a bow. The best way to teach is to show the learner, and I merely guided her. I meant no disrespect.”

  Skye felt like a side of beef due to the way the queen sized him up for several moments. Or perhaps, he amended mentally, he was more like a fat rabbit, clearly caught in the hawk’s claws and waiting for the end. To be honest, he was surprised by the queen’s behavior in this matter; he would have expected her to have him beaten without bothering to hear his explanation.

  In the end, however, even the innocence of his explanation was not enough to save him.

  “I believe you, slave, though perhaps I should not. But that does not change the fact that you touched my daughter when you should not have.” She turned and regarded Tierra, and though her outward visage was stern, there was a bare hint of softness in it that seemed to bespeak of affection. It was the first time Skye had ever witnessed such a display from the hard-hearted woman. “Tierra, this is your fault in some measure, as you knew better. You must keep yourself aloof from these slaves at all costs and make sure you are never in a position where something like this might occur. There are to be no more trips to the practice grounds.

  “And as for you,” Sequoia said, turning to her eldest, “I am not pleased with how you have been acting either. Your behavior is that of a petulant child, Wisteria. Tend to your own matters and your own slave, and do not trouble yourself to follow Tierra’s about the castle. You would do well to learn a modicum of humility, and this continued contempt you show for your younger sister cannot continue. While you are the heir, it is unseemly for you to consider yourself better than your sister. We are all descended from Terrain.”

  Wisteria appeared incensed by her mother’s words, but the queen paid her no heed, instead turning back and motioning to the guards. “Take the slave elsewhere and remind him of the need to behave. You need not be as . . . enthusiastic as before since he did not know his error. But I do not want him to forget again.”

  And thus Skye was dragged from the room, to again bear the pain of the lash, his mind filled with resentment toward this severe woman in particular and all Groundbreathers in general. As he left, he caught the expression of the elder princess as she regarded him with dark glee.

  Skye decided then and there that he would remember Wisteria. She would eventually pay the price for her sadism. He did not know how to bring such vengeance about, but he would see to it that it was done.

  * * *

  As far as beatings went, the punishment he endured for touching the princess was perhaps the gentlest (if such a word could be used to describe such a wretched thing) Skye had experienced. Most members of the Iron Swords, he thought, did not look at him with the sneers that they once had, but whether that was a result of familiarity or whether he had simply begun to allow himself to see Groundbreathers as fellow sentient beings rather than monsters, he was not certain. Regardless, however, the beating affected him deeply on an emotional level, fanning the flames of his anger and causing the bile of bitterness to well up within him.

  It had not been his idea to place a weapon in his hands, and he would not have been so bold as to assist Tierra with a bow had he thought there was a possibility someone was watching. Yet he had let his guard down around the princess, going against his better judgment and allowing himself to relish in the thought that he could actually have a friend who understood him in this place.

  The idea that he could have been able to befriend one of his Groundbreather captors was one from which he recoiled, yet it was undeniable that he had been able to smile and even laugh with the young woman.

  All of that had to stop now. He had become too complacent. He needed to take action instead of simply debating this route or that route out of the castle.

  After the beating was finished, the guard holding the whip told him—somewhat uncomfortably, Skye thought—to return to his duties. Holding his shirt, Skye gave a deferential nod and left the room.

  He went to Tierra’s empty chambers, where he gingerly took out the healing cream. He wondered how many times Tierra had replenished his supply. She had never complained when she did so; she had always simply done it.

  Strix commented suddenly, “You were beaten again.”

  Skye grunted instead of giving a real reply. Then he dropped his shirt on the floor and put some of the cream on his hands. It was difficult to apply it himself, but he was not about to ask Tierra or Gusty to do it for him.

  It took a few moments and some awkward contortions, but he finally finished. He was pulling his shirt over his head when Tierra entered the room.

  “Skye—”

  “Save it,” he said curtly as he tugged down on the bottom of his shirt, trying to ignore the hurt look which flashed across her face.

  She was quiet for a few moments, but then she shook her head. “No. I want you to know I am sorry, Skye.”

  “I believe what you actually meant to call me was ‘slave.’”

  “No, that was not what I meant, Skye,” she said. “I never would have suggested we practice sword-fighting and archery if I had known what would happen. And I should have informed you that you are not supposed to touch me. This is all my stupid sister’s fault!”

  “I can’t continue like this, Princess,” Skye said. “Here, among your people, I’m like Strix. I’m a bird with pinioned wings. I’m not allowed to meet anyone’s eyes, much less do something I enjoy! Gliders and bows—those sorts of things are off-limits to me here. This isn’t a life at all, Tierra! And speaking with you all the time, allowing myself to feel content for even a moment—it has to stop. It makes me wish for things I can’t have.” That had not come out quite the way he had meant it to, but rather than try to take it back, he clammed up and looked away from her.

  “Skye,” she said, her voice coming out somewhat strangled, “I would give you everything you wanted if I could.”

  “What I want from you is for you to leave me alone. This thing between us—this fake friendship or whatever it is—has to stop. I’m going to straighten up your room, and then I’m going to attend to some of my other duties. There’s no reason to talk together any longer.”

  He refused to turn and look at her when she left, not
confident he would be able to refrain from apologizing and undoing all his work if he saw tears shining in her eyes.

  When the door closed, he released the breath he was holding.

  “So, you’re serious then.”

  Skye turned to look at the bird. “About what?”

  “About escaping, of course.”

  “I’ve always been serious about that.”

  “There’s something different now. Now, I actually believe you may succeed. Perhaps this incident will be of some use after all.”

  “I’m glad for your vote of confidence,” Skye said dryly.

  “Are you willing to do whatever it takes to return to your home?”

  “Of course.”

  “Have you determined a way to avoid simply being cast back down here again?”

  Skye grimaced. “No.”

  Strix’s eyes seemed to pierce through him. “Would you be willing to sacrifice a Groundbreather’s life to accomplish this?”

  Skye refused to squirm under the bird’s gaze, yet he was made uncomfortable by the question. If he were escaping, would he kill a Groundbreather to ensure his freedom? He would avoid it if he could, certainly, but if he could not . . . well, Groundbreathers were the Skychildren’s enemies, right? In essence, it would be no different from felling someone in battle, would it not?

  “Yes,” he answered at last.

  “You should take a bargaining chip with you to the sky realm. One of the Groundbreather princesses would be a fine prize to place before the king in exchange for the return of your position there.”

  “A bargaining chip?” Skye echoed. “What do you mean? Why would anyone in the sky realm care about a Groundbreather princess?”

  “They could use her to get the Fenik back.”

  Skye looked away from the bird, his mind racing. While he mostly believed Tierra when she said the Groundbreathers did not know where the Fenik was, his father could be led to think the Groundbreathers possessed it. If his father thought that, then surely the gift of a Groundbreather princess would be enough to restore Skye in the man’s eyes.

  If Skye were to take one of the princesses with him to the sky realm, then she would be returned only if the Groundbreathers knew where the Fenik was . . . and only after they returned it to the Skychildren. Skye did not particularly want his father to have such a weapon as the Fenik, yet if Tierra was right, the Groundbreathers would likely never be able to produce the creature.

  Of course, if he were to take one of the princesses hostage—without any hope of being returned to the Groundbreathers, if Tierra’s assertions about her parents’ lack of knowledge concerning the Fenik were true—Skye would prefer it to be Wisteria. It would serve the nasty woman right, and it would be an apt punishment for Wisteria to be the captive of people she held in so much contempt. Furthermore, Tierra would make a much better queen than her sister. With Tierra as queen, there might be some hope of peaceful relations between the two peoples. Such an accord would be impossible to reach if Wisteria ascended the throne.

  Unfortunately, capturing Wisteria would be a difficult thing to engineer. After all, Wisteria was suspicious and watchful. Tierra had at least become friendly with Skye, and he could use that to his advantage. But there were even more important considerations which could prevent this talk from ever becoming a reality.

  “Tierra tells me her parents don’t know anything about the Fenik,” Skye replied slowly, voicing the foremost of his concerns.

  The bird gave the equivalent of a snort. “It is a closely kept secret they would not share with a daughter who is not even their heir. I expect they have not even shared it with the eldest.”

  “I still don’t understand how you know so much,” Skye said, viewing Strix with some suspicion.

  “As I said before, Groundbreathers don’t expect a bird to possess even a hint of sentience. I used to reside in the king and queen’s quarters. I know many of their secrets.”

  “Why don’t we just take the Fenik then? Why bother with the princess at all?”

  “Because I never heard them mention where the Fenik is being kept.”

  Despite his continued skepticism, Skye was forced to admit that Strix likely knew what he was talking about. And it was a good plan. Though Skye was not certain about his father’s reaction given his less than stable state of mind, the capture of a Groundbreather princess and the return of the Fenik would be sufficient to induce his father to allow him to return.

  But the part of Skye which had been battered by his captivity was still distrustful of the bird. Strix would certainly have no love for the Groundbreathers. Of course, as a bird, Strix should really have no loyalty toward anyone. And yet here he was, goading Skye into escaping, suggesting in that reasonable tone of his exactly how Skye could accomplish it. The bird’s motives were less than transparent.

  “What is it to you if I escape?” Skye asked. “Why do you want to help me so much?”

  “One word,” Strix replied. “Freedom. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been held captive here?”

  Skye shook his head. It had not even occurred to him to wonder.

  “Let’s just say that it’s been quite some time. All I want is to be free again. Even if the Groundbreathers were to set me loose, their healers do not have the skill to heal my wings.” Strix flapped his wings to emphasize his point. “What I wish is to be able to fly once again. If you escape, you must take me with you. That is all I ask.”

  “Very well,” Skye said slowly. “I’ll give the matter some thought.”

  “You do that,” Strix said. His tone seemed faintly mocking. “In the meantime, I’d suggest you play nice with Princess Tierra. She would be the easier of the two to capture, and your odds will be even more favorable if she still trusts you. Treating her like she’s the enemy will only make it more difficult.”

  Nodding his head distractedly, Skye returned to cleaning the princess’s room. Strix had given him a lot to think about, and Skye could feel his confidence growing. Hopefully, he would be back in the sky soon. It was a heady thing to consider.

  When the Groundbreathers returned to the earth with their stolen prize, they conferred in secret, using their wiles to determine a strategy to employ against Celesta’s children.

  Knowing they would never be able to stand against the Skychildren, the Groundbreathers made their plans, resolved to obtain with guile what they could not take through force.

  The capacity of the glider was tested, and once the piloting of the craft had been mastered, the Groundbreathers made several trips between the land and the sky realm, transferring trained soldiers to a secluded area outside the Skychild palace. The Groundbreathers had finally made it to the sky realm to steal the Fenik, shameless thieves intent on robbing the Skychildren of that which was most precious.

  —The Book of Celesta

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY

  Stratagem

  It took a few days to put Skye’s plan into action. Given the lessons learned from his first ill-fated attempt at escape, Skye knew what he proposed to do would require planning which accounted for every possible angle. There would be no second chance. If he failed this time, it was probable the queen would simply put him to death.

  Two days after his conversation with Strix, Skye put the first element of his plan in place with Gusty’s assistance. While it had taken some doing to persuade the other Skychild to agree to the scheme, the lure of regained honor and an end of servitude had at last been enough to sway him.

  “Are you sure about this, Skye?” Gusty asked for what seemed like the tenth time.

  “Of course I am,” Skye replied impatiently. “Now, keep your voice down and follow the plan.”

  They entered the healer’s wing, and Gusty, who had an arm around Skye’s shoulder, guided the prince to a nearby bed, addressing the healer who looked up at their entrance.

  “He fell and hurt his arm,” Gusty said with a gesture.

&n
bsp; Upon going inside, Skye had pasted a pained expression on his face which was only partially feigned. He had intentionally bashed his arm repeatedly against the corner of a wall to give their presence some legitimacy. Perhaps having Gusty escort him for an injured arm was a bit of a stretch, but he had figured that if he looked like he was in enough pain, then the situation would not be questioned. Originally, he had even considered having Gusty play the role of the injured slave, but he feared that Gusty lacked the guts to do what was required. Furthermore, since the Groundbreathers had excellent healers, the minor damage would be healed in no time. His arm smarted, to be sure, but it was a small price to pay for his freedom.

  The healer rose and approached them, inspecting the aching arm, and after a few moments of examination, he said, “It appears there is nothing more than a bit of bad bruising. We can fix you up like new.”

  He then pulled out the salve with which Skye was intimately familiar and began to apply it liberally to the injury. As the medicine began to soothe the pain, it was all Skye could do to keep from smiling.

  Once he felt the salve had been given enough time to work, Skye got to his feet. After thanking the man, he exited the room, with Gusty following after him. They continued the pretense as they exited.

  “Skye?” a voice called out down the hallway.

  Skye turned and saw Tierra looking at him in concern.

  * * *

  When Tierra noticed Skye exiting the healers’ ward with Gusty, her heart jumped into her throat. Had he been beaten again?

  He stopped walking and lowered his head. “Yes, Mistress?”

  “Are you all right?” she asked, biting her lip as she approached him. “What happened?”

  “I hurt my arm,” he said.

  She frowned and studied him, not certain she believed him. The answer seemed to come too readily.