by Lelia Eye
The close proximity of their faces sent butterflies fluttering in Tierra’s stomach. Yet she ignored them and shoved Skye off her. She sprinted to her sword and picked it up, feeling a sense of relief once the familiar hilt was in her hand. This was territory she was more comfortable with.
In the meantime, Skye was calmly rising to his feet and pulling a sword out of his belt.
She took a few steps forward and pointed her own blade at him. “You cannot win this fight, Skye. We already know my skill with a sword surpasses yours. Come back with me quietly, and I will ensure the responsibility for your punishment is mine.”
Skye’s responding smirk was bigger than she had ever seen it. The prospect of having his freedom so close at hand—in his mind at least, if not hers—was apparently enough to make him almost giddy. “No one could beat me tonight, Tierra,” he said.
She shifted her stance, waiting for him to come at her. Considering how arrogant he was, she knew he would strike first.
Still, she could not help but goad, “Those are awfully strong words for a Skychild whose wings have been clipped.”
He was on her in a flash, the vaunted speed of his kind in evidence as he lunged at her. She stepped aside, dodging the blow. Then she brought her sword down on his, pressing it toward the ground.
“Not bad for a Groundbreather,” he teased, taking a few steps backward.
She refused to rise to the bait. Instead, she waited for him to take the initiative again.
But he was eyeing her warily, hesitant to strike. This fight had something which had been missing from the practice swordfight. It was a matter of life or death for him, and while she did not think he would kill her, she was not confident enough to put the theory to the test.
But they could not simply stand there all night. And so she appealed to his easily aroused sense of outrage. “What is the problem? Are you afraid you will lose to the Groundbreather princess again, slave?”
The word lit a fire in his eyes. He was on her like a beast, hacking and slashing at her. Every ounce of strength he possessed was in each blow. He had held something back the first time they had fought. But he was not holding back now.
It was a series of slashes, parries, and ripostes that broke through her guard. She cried out and pulled her injured arm up against her.
She thought she saw a flash of regret cross Skye’s face, but it was quickly hidden behind a mask of concentration. “Give up, Tierra. You can’t win this time. Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.”
“No,” she told him firmly, bringing her weapon up. “I cannot let you go.”
This time, she was the one who pressed forward.
* * *
The Groundbreather princess and the Skychild prince clashed together in battle yet again. This time, however, it was Tierra who appeared to be coming out the victor. She had much more practice with swordplay, and it showed as she danced across the countryside. She began to use Skye’s strength against him, wearing him out by causing him to waste his strength on blows that gained him nothing. Soon, he was panting heavily, and Tierra was only slightly winded. He was slowing down, but she was maintaining her own.
Gusty and Strix, who were hidden a short distance away, as Skye had instructed, were watching the fight. Gusty was rather nervous, as he thought the princess was a brilliant swordswoman. Prince or not, Skye was one of the Skychildren, and they did not spend a lot of time honing their skills with that particular weapon. If Tierra won, both Skye and Gusty would be returned to the Groundbreather castle, and it would not bode well for them there. Gusty’s punishment would likely be less severe, yet he feared Skye might face execution.
Strix, however, did not seem nervous at the outcome of the battle. Instead, he appeared puzzled over what was happening. “I do not understand, Skychild. Why does she not simply use the collar to choke him?”
It was a valid question. Gusty, who was not half the swordsman Skye was, could plainly see that the prince often left himself open as he was drained of his strength. Even now, Skye parried one of Tierra’s blows far to the side, and she refused to bring her sword back to stab at his unprotected abdomen. All of that—plus her failure to exercise her Groundbreather abilities to constrict the collar around Skye’s neck—pointed to one thing.
“She cares for him,” Gusty said quietly. “She doesn’t want to hurt him.”
“But he hurt her,” the bird said. “Does she not want vengeance?”
Gusty shook his head. “He didn’t mean to. For all his desperation and his powerful attacks, notice how he pauses whenever her arm appears to be hurting her too much.”
They were both quiet for a few minutes, watching the battle in front of them unfold. “You’re right,” the bird said at last in disgust. “Does he not value his freedom?”
Gusty smiled. “He does. But I guess there are some things more valuable than freedom.”
The bird did not respond to that, and Gusty continued to watch the battle.
* * *
As the fight wore on, Skye knew he needed to finish it quickly. Not only was Tierra better with a sword, but Skye was tiring and being forced to expend much more energy, and the heat of the night was not helping his ability to continue the fight. Even more problematic, the guards inside the castle would sound the alarm soon. If Skye did not end this, then he would end up recaptured. Or worse.
He stepped backward and took a brief moment to wipe the sweat off his face as he tried to assess the situation. The problem was that he could not think of a way to defeat Tierra without seriously injuring her, and if there was one thing he did not want to do, it was hurt the princess. He already felt guilty enough for the nick he had inflicted on her arm. But any trick he tried to disarm her was instantly countered, most of the time with a mocking comment or a knowing smile. She had been good to him, and repaying her by maiming her was not exactly a welcome thought.
“Are you tiring, Skye?” she jeered as she waded in for another exchange.
Skye parried and returned a few attacks of his own. Yet he eased up when she removed her injured hand from her sword and met him with only one hand on the weapon. He was fairly certain he could overpower her, but he did not know whether he could do so without causing her further injury.
She pressed her attack, and he was forced to retreat, desperate to keep her from maiming him! As she swept in, Skye stumbled back, and by instinct, he gathered a wind and pushed himself some distance away from her.
Tierra never batted an eyelash. She continued to pursue him, though she had begun to breathe heavily herself.
The event gave Skye an idea. While he would not have considered such measures had the situation been different, now was not the time to play fair.
Watching the princess carefully, Skye waited until she moved into range. Then he directed a wind from the ground up toward her, flinging dirt in her face.
Tierra furiously scrubbed at her eyes with her free hand. “Celesta’s whoreson!” she shouted. Her language was not at all what he would have expected of a princess.
Skye darted toward her and knocked the sword out of her hand. Then he placed an arm around her waist and gathered a wind, shooting himself up almost to the level of the walls of the castle, hauling her along with him.
Tierra gasped and turned to clutch him in a panic. Hearing her cry out as she clenched her arm to her chest, Skye shifted his grip, trying to take the pressure off her wounded arm.
In that endless moment, Skye held them up in the wind, fighting the effects of the collar, which had begun to assert its power. Tierra’s eyes were still watering from the dirt, and Skye shifted her once more in his grasp, holding onto her with his left arm, and then gently wiped the remaining dust particles from her eyes. She gasped at the tenderness of the gesture, blinking away the remaining tears before her eyes met his.
They gazed at each other for a long moment, and as Skye looked down at the Groundbreather princess, he was forced to admit
that her eyes, though different from a Skychild’s, were beautifully shaped, their color a fine amber which complemented her chestnut hair. She was breathtaking, even in her nightgown and with her hair plastered haphazardly against her forehead. No, he could not hurt this woman, even if his own life depended upon it. He would have to be convincing in his bluff.
“Put me down, Skye,” Tierra commanded, though the tremor in her voice belied her stern order.
“Sorry, Princess, but I can’t do that.”
Tierra glared at him. “Do you want me to use the collar against you?”
Uncertain what she meant, Skye cocked his head to the side and asked, “Use the collar?”
A derisive snort met his question. “After all the time you have spent living among us, you still do not know what I can do with the collar?”
“You Groundbreathers are never exactly forthcoming with information,” Skye said with a frown. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a Skychild. Wind and air obey my commands, not the minerals of the earth. I have no idea what you can do with my collar.”
“I can choke you with it,” Tierra said in a quieter voice. “And I will if you do not set me down.”
That caused him to pause for a moment—he had not been aware of that—but he soon pressed onward. “Ah, but if you do that,” he said, “then we’ll both fall when I lose consciousness.” For emphasis, he raised them even higher in the air.
Tierra reacted by clutching him tighter and glaring again.
“In fact,” he said, “if you don’t remove this Terrain-cursed collar, I’ll just send us further up until my powers cut out.”
“You would not dare!” Tierra exclaimed. “Do you want to die?”
“Now who doesn’t know as much as she thinks?” Skye said, his tone more playful than insulting. “I fell from the clouds when I was banished from the sky realm, and that didn’t kill me. Do you think I would receive even the slightest bruise from this short distance?”
Tierra gazed at him in horror.
“It is part of the powers we inherited from the goddess,” Skye said with some amusement. “A fall can’t hurt me. My powers would react to cushion the fall, even if I was unconscious.”
“But if you go up until the collar cuts your powers off, then you will lose the chance to get away,” Tierra said. She was obviously frightened, but she was fighting back as much as she was able.
“I have nothing to lose, Tierra,” Skye said in a soft tone. “I will not go back to being a slave. I will force you to remove this collar from me so that I can escape. If you don’t, then you will likely die. Neither of us wants that.”
Once again, Skye raised them a little higher, and the drain on his powers caused them to wobble slightly in the air. Tierra gazed at him wildly, no doubt sensing that he was approaching the limit of what he could do with the collar still fastened about his neck. For a moment, he was not certain whether she would capitulate, as a stubborn gleam entered her eyes. But then her countenance softened, and she looked up at him from under those fine lashes.
“You will put me down if I remove the collar?” she asked.
“On my honor as a Skychild,” Skye replied. “As you know something about us, you’re aware that our honor is the essence of being a Skychild.”
After taking in a deep breath, Tierra nodded. She reached up to the collar and touched it, and with a click, the collar fell off and tumbled to the ground. Instantly, Skye felt more alive than he had in ages, and the surge he felt in his powers flung them higher up into the sky.
Tierra screamed, clinging to him even tighter. “You promised, Skye!”
Laughing with delight, Skye nonetheless lowered them toward the ground. He looked Tierra in the eye and said, “Sorry about that, Princess. The collar apparently has a dampening effect on my powers. I hadn’t noticed it until now.”
Once they were standing on solid ground, Tierra looked at her sword longingly. But Skye, knowing her thoughts, used the wind to fling both swords far enough away that she could not easily reach them.
“Sorry, Princess, but I can’t allow that. Come on.”
Grasping her by her uninjured arm, Skye propelled Tierra toward the copse of trees in which he knew Gusty and Strix were hiding. They moved none too soon, as a cry sounded within the castle.
“We need to get out of here, Skye,” Gusty said, stepping out of the gloom with Strix perched on his arm. “This area will be crawling with Iron Swords soon.”
Tierra turned and glared at Skye. “You involved Gusty in this mad escapade as well?”
“Gusty wants to see his home again as much as I do,” he replied. “Now, if you’ll kindly remove Gusty’s collar as well, then we can all leave.”
Tierra’s eyes grew wide, and she stammered, “I will n-not be going with you!”
“Actually, you will,” Skye said, shooting her a stern look. “I’m not going to leave you behind when you’re so valuable as a bargaining chip.”
“And what would you want in return for me?” Tierra demanded.
“Now, that would be telling, Princess,” he said. “But don’t worry. You’ll find out soon enough.”
“And how do I know that I will be safe among you barbarians?”
“I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” Skye said. He was telling her the truth. He meant to protect her to the best of his abilities.
“Skye, we really need to go,” Gusty said, his voice raised in anxiety.
“I could let them find us,” Tierra said slyly. “In fact, I could call out and lead them here.”
“And I could sweep us all up and force you to remove Gusty’s collar in the air,” Skye snapped.
Tierra rolled her eyes and reached toward Gusty. She touched his collar, causing it to drop to the ground. “There.”
“That’s more like it,” Skye said. “Now, we should get ready to leave. But before we do . . .”
Skye trailed off, eying her wounded arm. It was not a serious injury, though he knew it must have pained her by the way she was favoring it. More importantly, it looked like the bleeding had not stopped, and he would not have her growing faint from blood loss.
“Here,” he said, gesturing for her to come closer. When she did, he crouched down and tore a strip from the bottom of her nightgown, causing her to gasp in response and recoil from him.
“Don’t be silly,” he said grumpily as he stood and used the strip to bind her arm. “This will do just fine until you are seen by a healer.”
“Oh, do you savages truly have such civilized things as healers?” Tierra responded sarcastically.
“You had better hope we do, Princess. The wound is showing signs of infection. We wouldn’t want you to lose the arm.”
She glared at him—obviously, the wound could not show signs of infection so quickly—but he simply grinned and said, “Come here, Tierra, and hold on tight.”
She reluctantly stepped closer to him, and he pulled her up against him, putting his arms around her. Then he caused a great wind to rise up, and they all began shooting upward into the sky. The feeling of freedom was heady for one who had been bound for so long.
Skye was returning home.
The beautiful creatures whom Celesta so loved were denizens of the sky, living upon the winds high above the ground world below. When her children were conceived, Celesta perceived she had passed some small measure of her great powers onto them, allowing them to live as the birds high above the ground.
But knowing they would require somewhere to rest even with their ability to soar through the firmament, Celesta determined to build them a place to live which would forever set them apart from those who lived on the ground.
With the force of her will, Celesta caused mountains to rise up from the lands below to soar majestically among the winds, great mountains in the sky where her children could marvel at her most beautiful creations. There, they could be one with the sky and the stars and could look out upon the lan
d below. There, her descendants lived, calling its vast expanses their home.
—The Book of Celesta
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
Skybound
Skye knew he had been feeling confined in the Groundbreather castle, yet he had not realized how intoxicating it would feel to once more stretch his figurative wings. He only wished he had his glider back so he could make a proper flight of it.
Yet at the moment, he had responsibilities—three of them, in fact, and all of them waiting for him to make the next move—and it was not the time to enjoy himself. So rather than spend more time soaring through the skies as he longed to do, he brought his party to one of the smaller Skychild villages.
He had considered going straight to the palace to see his father, yet he doubted King Tempest would appreciate their appearance at such an hour. Furthermore, he wanted to prepare himself for the inevitable confrontation with his father and the Seneschal. Added to all that was his desire to sharpen his powers and allow Tierra the opportunity to acclimate herself to her new surroundings. He was hopeful her time in the sky realm would be brief, yet he was unsure what would come to pass. If she knew what to expect, then it might make things more comfortable to her . . . or at least as close to comfortable as possible considering the fact that she would be a prisoner of the Skychildren.
This was certainly not some pleasurable vacation for Tierra. Skye felt terrible about what he meant to do to her, but he had no other choice. If her parents did know where the Fenik was, then Tierra would be returned to the ground, and everything would turn out as it should. If Strix was wrong and they did not know . . . well, Skye would have to carefully consider what needed to be done. He was not certain Tierra’s gentle spirit could handle being a perpetual prisoner of the Skychildren. And the kind way she had treated him—when all the other Groundbreathers had viewed him as a beast of burden, meant only to go to and fro at their beck and call—merited special consideration.