On Wings of Air (Earth and Sky Book 1)

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On Wings of Air (Earth and Sky Book 1) Page 26

by Lelia Eye


  “Cirrus would never have killed himself, you know. Did I tell you that they accused him of selling Skychild secrets to your people?”

  “That is absurd!” Tierra exclaimed. “My mother would never deal with a Skychild, regardless of any secrets he held. And how could we use any such knowledge against you?”

  “I know,” Skye responded. “It’s unthinkable and illogical. Furthermore, Cirrus would never have done something like that.

  “And for them to refuse to burn his body . . . Hawkins made such a threat before I was banished, but I didn’t think he would go through with it. That’s monstrous, even for him.”

  Tierra frowned. “I do not understand. Do Skychildren not bury their dead?”

  Skye shook his head, still not looking up. “No. We’re creatures of the sky, and we have no graveyards. When a Skychild dies, the body is cremated on a special bier. As the body burns, the ashes are carried up on the winds, ascending toward Celesta in the heavens. If this is not done, then the Skychild’s spirit is doomed to an eternity of torment, able to see the stars of Celesta overhead, but never able to return to her embrace. Hawkins didn’t just deny Cirrus justice—he denied him the afterlife.”

  Tierra nodded to herself, taking in what he had said. “And what do you make of what that guard told us about the strange happenings?”

  Skye snorted and pulled his hands away from his face. “I’m not sure what to make of it. The whole thing sounds like hearsay which has been embellished in the telling.”

  “The guard did not look like he was telling tales.”

  “No, he didn’t. I will grant you that.” A wan smile came over Skye’s face, and he joked, “Maybe Celesta determined that Cirrus was innocent and came to rescue him.”

  Tierra rolled her eyes, but Skye only turned away again. Earlier, in her righteous anger, Tierra had told herself that when she and Skye were alone, she would let him know what she thought of his unprincipled people and his ill-advised plan to retrieve the Fenik. But Skye had already been brought down so low that the harsh words she had meant to say would not come. Instead of bringing him further into the depths of despair, she had to lift him up. For the first time since meeting him, she began to understand what he had been going through since before he even came to the ground realm. He was in real pain, and the only one whom he could trust among his own people was Gusty.

  Tentatively, she put a hand on Skye’s back and began rubbing in circles, glad she could finally touch him without fear of repercussions.

  He stiffened for a moment at the physical contact, but then he relaxed and leaned into her.

  “Skye,” she said softly.

  He looked up, and his face was so bleak that her own heart ached on his behalf. She gave him a small smile and held her arms out to him.

  He hesitated for the span of two breaths, and then he accepted her embrace, crushing her against him and allowing himself to draw from her strength. She tried not to enjoy the embrace—this was her captor, after all—but she could not help relishing in his warmth, even if it was tainted by grief.

  “I’m sorry I got you caught up in all this,” he said, his voice coming out strangled. “I’ll be honest—I don’t know what Hawkins is planning. But I’ll keep you safe, Tierra. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

  “I know you will,” she whispered, pressing her cheek against his hair. She knew he would try, anyway, and for now, that was good enough.

  “I thought the only thing I wanted was to come back here,” he said, clutching her tighter. “But to return to this . . . I don’t even feel like I know my own home anymore.”

  “Though I cannot say I approve of your methods,” she said gently, “I understand your feelings. I miss my home, too. And I am well aware that I will probably never see it again.”

  Skye exhaled heavily and pulled away from her. “I won’t let that happen. If your parents really don’t have the Fenik, then I’ll . . . I’ll go look for it. And if I can’t find it, then I’ll simply take you back to your parents . . . with or without my father’s consent.”

  Thrilled though she was that he would go to such lengths for her, Tierra focused instead on the creature at the center of it all. “Skye, what makes you think the Fenik is still alive?”

  “Because Cirrus thought it was. I would have followed him to the depths of the earth and never regretted it. I guess you’ve probably seen that now. But more than that—the Fenik lived with the Skychildren for centuries before it was stolen. Celesta created it as an immortal being. As far as we know, the Fenik can’t die.”

  She nodded, her expression solemn, and he lightly touched her cheek, drawing her eyes up to his.

  “Tierra . . . about what my father said . . .”

  She withdrew from him, turning away. A whirlwind of emotions was stirring in her once more: anger, resentment, sorrow, and even fear, all mixing together and twisting her gut.

  “Look at me, please,” Skye begged, and she could not help but comply. “I want you to know I’ll never treat you like that, no matter what happens. My father . . . there’s something wrong with him. No Skychild in his right mind would ever suggest using another person in such a way. I know you may not believe me, but we don’t condone slavery in any form, just like I told you.”

  “My experience with Skychildren is limited to you and Gusty,” she said, “so I am afraid I will have to reserve judgment on your people for now.”

  He sighed. “I guess that’s fair. I’ll admit I was never exactly inclined to judge your people fairly.”

  Her raised eyebrow made him smile, and he said, “In spite of what happened, I don’t hate your people. Not really. Unfortunately, I can’t say I feel the same way about your sister.”

  Tierra snorted. “You are not the only one with such sentiments.”

  Chuckling, Skye said, “I guess coming back here has put things in perspective. There are reprehensible people up in the sky and below it.”

  “You might be right, though I have yet to find any decent folk in the sky besides myself.”

  “I’m not that bad.”

  “So kidnapping princesses puts you up on the ‘good guy’ list?”

  He grinned at her. “Admit it, Tierra—you would have missed me.”

  “Like I would miss a bruise on my left foot,” Tierra grumbled. But she could not help smiling back at him. She really would have missed him, and if it were not for the “captivity” part of her circumstances, she might have been able to enjoy herself in the sky realm. It now seemed so long since she had been discussing her dreams of adventure with River. So much had changed in such a short time, and it felt as if she were a different person.

  “I never thought visiting the sky would be a reality for me,” she admitted.

  “I never thought a Groundbreather would end up here with me either,” Skye said in return. He got to his feet, and she found herself missing his warmth. But then he held a hand out, and she took it, allowing her fingers to curl gently around his.

  * * *

  As he pulled Tierra up, Skye said, “Come with me. I’d like to show you something.”

  Once they were outside the palace, Skye looked about, noting with some satisfaction that it was a clear night, with none of the higher clouds visible as far as the eye could see. The sky realm, seated as it was on the tops of various clouds, received less rain than the world below, but even so, the skies above were often obscured by high, wispy sorts of clouds which made looking up into the heavens much more difficult. Their religion being dependent upon a goddess who had ascended to live among the stars meant that the Skychildren felt a special kinship with the stars, and the fact that nothing was obscuring their beauty was perfect for what Skye had in mind.

  Turning to his companion, Skye raised an eyebrow, squeezing her hand and feeling an intense pleasure at the sensations engendered by the feeling of her delicate hand being ensconced in his own. “Tierra, do you trust me?” he asked, knowing already what her a
nswer would be.

  “I do, Skye,” Tierra said softly, her eyes never leaving his.

  Tenderly, Skye drew her into him so that she stood encircled in his arms, and then he gathered a soft wind and propelled them into the night sky. Tierra stiffened slightly, but she soon relaxed against him, allowing him to guide them to their destination.

  Skye settled them on the top of the tallest tower in the palace. It was situated almost in the center, a little to the back, and it stood much higher than any other tower in the complex. It was so high off the base of the cloud on which the palace stood that any light from the torches which burned about the courtyard remained far enough below that it did not interfere with the light from the stars. There was no clearer view of the beauty of the heavens anywhere in the sky realm.

  “You Skychildren are not precisely concerned with being conventional, are you?” Tierra asked when he had settled them on the platform at the apex of the tower.

  Skye waggled his eyebrows at her. “You should remember where you are, Princess. In the sky realm, what I just did was very conventional.”

  They laughed softly together, and Tierra gazed around at her surroundings with interest. “I should think that a tall tower would be superfluous for a group of people who can lift themselves up in the air any time they like.”

  “We can’t do it indefinitely,” Skye said. “We’re people of the skies, but we are subject to gravity, the same as Groundbreathers.”

  “And the trap door?” Tierra said, pointing at the door in the middle of the platform. “Why would you need stairs if you can float up here?”

  Shrugging, Skye replied, “I’ve never really thought about it, to be honest. In fact, I’m not even certain exactly how the palace came to be. It’s always just been here.”

  “A lot of things in the Groundbreather world are the same,” Tierra replied. She was silent for a moment, and then she turned to Skye and said, “Do you think we get so caught up in our sense of superiority that we forget to look at the things around us?”

  “It’s possible,” he said thoughtfully. Then he grinned and told her, “But enough of this. I brought you up here for a specific reason—not to speak of our peoples’ shortcomings.”

  Feeling giddy, like a child showing a favorite toy to another, he guided Tierra to the end of the parapet, where they could view the palace about them. The edges of the cloud were far enough away on three sides that the ground was not visible. But it was not the world below that Skye was concerned about.

  “Look, Tierra,” Skye said, pointing up into the heavens. “From here, you can see the skies better than anywhere else in the entire sky realm.”

  As she looked up, Tierra gasped, and Skye could not help the smug smile which appeared in response.

  The night was indeed as fine as any he had ever experienced. The air was warm, with the scents of midsummer eddying about Tierra and Skye, and since the firmament above was clear, the stars could be seen more clearly and in far greater numbers than would ever be witnessed on the ground. Skye could tell that Tierra was spellbound by the sight, even if her people did not hold the stars in the reverence that his did.

  “I would never have imagined that there are so many,” she breathed.

  “The further off the ground you are, the better you can see them,” Skye said. “I suspect that if you could go even further up, you would see even more of them.”

  “They are magnificent as it is.”

  “Yes, they are,” Skye agreed.

  They remained in silence for a few moments, and then Skye pointed to a group of stars in the western sky. “Look over there,” he said. “That’s Celesta, the mother of all Skychildren.”

  Tierra turned and looked at him, a question evident on her face. “Surely the Skychildren do not believe that group of lights is Celesta.”

  “No more than you would believe that a clump of dirt is Terrain,” Skye said with a smile. “It’s her sign, and it’s the one constellation that is visible in the sky at all times of the year. It is our constant reminder that though she left us, Celesta continues to watch over her children from afar.”

  They were silent as they gazed at the stars for some time, Skye reacquainting himself with the beloved sights he had been denied these past months. Tierra, he thought, was marveling in the beauty which could be found in the sky realm, and he was happy she could recognize splendor when it was presented to her. He was unable to determine exactly why, but he wanted Tierra to approve of his home and acknowledge the good things in the sky realm.

  “Do Groundbreathers have any constellations with specific meanings?” Skye asked after a few moments of silence.

  Tierra snorted. “Do you think Groundbreathers pay a lot of attention to the stars? Given that our god is an earth god who hates the sky goddess, we keep our eyes firmly toward the earth rather than fixed on the heavens.”

  “That is a pity,” Skye said. “There is much beauty in the stars.”

  Tierra rested her head upon his shoulder, and Skye’s breath caught in his throat.

  “You will find no dispute from me,” she said. She paused briefly before speaking again. “We do not revere beauty as you do. Terrain has never been hailed for great beauty or even benevolence. He had a great heart, but he has always been considered somewhat reserved. I often feel it is more that we respect him than love him.”

  Nodding, Skye reflected on the fact that he had gathered as much during his time among her people. It was not necessarily a bad thing, he decided. The Groundbreathers were different from the Skychildren, to be certain, but who was he to say that their way of life was any better or worse than his own? It was strange that his opinions could have changed so drastically in such a short time.

  “I guess there are more differences between our peoples than simply where we live,” Skye said, bringing an arm to rest gently around Tierra’s back. A fierce protectiveness toward this petite woman had begun welling up within him, and he wanted more than ever to keep her safe.

  “Indeed,” she said softly. “I must say, though—if I ever do return home, I will miss this view.”

  “Maybe I’ll have to bring you up here every now and then to visit,” he teased.

  “If you mean to bring me as a slave, then I think I will forgo the pleasure.”

  “It won’t be as a slave,” he said. “It will be as a friend.”

  “Good,” she said, sweeping her gaze out over the stars. “Skye?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I want you to know . . . I never wanted a slave. The practice has never been that palatable to me. And now, of course, after having met you, I like it even less. But still, I . . . I am pleased to have met you.”

  Skye smiled, resting his head on hers. “I’m glad I met you, too.”

  When Terrain saw that Celesta loved a Groundwalker and had borne his children, he was exceedingly wroth, and he called out with displeasure.

  “How can you have betrayed me?” cried he. “I am your firstborn. Should I not be first in your heart?”

  But Celesta could only regard her wayward son with a contempt that was mixed with sorrow. “Did you not betray me? Did you not torture my creations in order to sate your jealousy? Begone!”

  And dark-eyed Terrain was ashamed and slunk away, as a snake slithers down into its burrow to escape the elements. And in the dark reaches of his lair, Terrain brooded and wept, knowing that his mother’s words were only the truth. He was to blame for their estrangement.

  But soon Terrain’s anger overthrew his judgment, and he hardened his heart against Celesta’s just words. If he could not have her love, then he would have the love of another.

  And Celesta could only pity her child, knowing as she did his thoughts. For Terrain was wrong. Celesta still loved him, though she hated what he had become.

  —The Book of Celesta

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Confrontation

  The next few days were a le
arning experience for Tierra. Though Skye was still intent on determining more about what had happened to Cirrus, he quickly realized the denizens of the castle avoided his inquiries with the tenacity of someone evading a man afflicted by a particularly virulent disease. Whether anyone had further information to give, Tierra was uncertain, but she thought it best that Skye not obsess over his dead friend any more than necessary.

  To distract him, Tierra asked that he spend some time showing her how the Skychildren lived. Meals, she learned, were similar to what she ate in the ground realm, yet they were often cooked differently—with fewer spices, usually—and Skychildren were more likely to use different sorts of avian creatures in their meals than was the case on the ground world. She had never, for instance, eaten duck before, and she was surprised by how much she liked it. Skychildren did not eat just any birds, however—the thunder-birds, for instance, were considered sacred, and killing one was deemed to be blasphemy. Skye informed her they were actually rather intelligent, if not quite as bright as Strix. As for her former pet himself, he was being kept in the healers’ ward for observation. The healers had told Skye they were suspicious as to whether he had been adequately nourished on the ground world. That had earned an eye-roll from Tierra.

  One thing she discovered was that the Skychild prince was not shown the same sort of deference she had been accustomed to as a Groundbreather princess. Instead, even the servants who cleaned Skye’s room seemed to feel themselves to be equal to the royalty they served. They were respectful, yet they did not avoid making eye contact or hesitate to make their opinions known. The exception, of course, to all this was their treatment of King Tempest and Seneschal Hawkins. Everyone in the palace knew to tread carefully around that pair, and based on the looks thrown their way, Tierra could tell neither man was well-liked.

  Skye, on the other hand, seemed to be admired by his people. They were at ease with him, speaking to him freely and with evident friendliness as long as he did not mention Cirrus.

 

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