The Chains of Freedom (Starhawke Rising Book 2)

by Audrey Sharpe

  She frowned, her gaze searching his like she was looking for hidden meaning in his words. He had not meant it that way, but his description was apt to their situation on many levels.

  For the next hour they practiced weaving through the makeshift forest and changing direction. When he was convinced she had the basic feel, he switched the controls over so that he was directing their motion and she was following his lead. Then he pushed up the speed and took the glider in and out of the trees, which flashed by in a blur. The tenrebac was still doing its job, because Aurora’s reaction indicated exhilaration rather than anxiety.

  When they came to a halt, he tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

  “What?” she asked.

  “We have an audience.”

  She glanced up.

  The walkway and stairs were now filled with members of his clan, mostly children and teens, as well as a few Nirunoc, who leaned on the railings, watching them.

  “Do you mind if they join us?” he asked.

  “Of course not.”

  He called out a greeting and the youngsters responded by pouring down the stairs or, in some cases, climbing down the support structure itself using their claws. They had the gliders off the racks and in position in a heartbeat, but no one moved. They simply waited with the anticipation of competitors at the starting line.

  Jonarel leaned toward Aurora as he disengaged the stabilizers. “You ready?” he murmured.

  “Absolutely.”

  Calling out a challenge, he kicked the glider into high gear. They shot forward, racing through the course with the kids chasing them like a swarm of bees.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  BEFORE LEAVING the safety of the practice arena, Aurora shared a light lunch with Jonarel and watched the children and teens racing around on the gliders.

  The teens would be hitting their maturity soon, when they’d undergo the same painful transition Jonarel had endured shortly after she’d met him. He’d doubled his height in less than two years. Daymar had confided that it was the most vulnerable time in a Kraed’s life, and she’d been thrilled Jonarel had gone through it while they were at the Academy on Earth rather than among the dangers of Drakar.

  After they finished their meal, Jonarel lifted the training glider off the rack and she settled back into the front position. She was much more relaxed than she had been this morning. She took that as a good sign.

  “I will handle the controls,” Jonarel said as the glider lifted off the ground. “But you will need to focus on the motion and follow my lead.”

  “Okay.”

  Several of the kids waved as Jonarel navigated the glider toward the exterior fence. Aurora nodded in acknowledgment but kept her hands on the controls as the glider rose into the air. She’d never been this high on an open glider before, but thanks to the lingering effects of the tenrebac, her muscles weren’t tying into knots.

  As they cleared the outer fence, she glanced at the trees. The dappled sunlight danced through the swaying leaves, creating moving mosaics on the trunks and the brightly colored flowers. With only the thin plank of the glider beneath her feet, she had a panoramic view of her surroundings, including the waterways twenty meters below. It was exhilarating now that she was allowing herself to relax and enjoy it.

  Jonarel set a leisurely pace along the exterior of the compound, no doubt because he wanted to give her time to adjust to their new surroundings. She turned her head slightly so she could see him out of the corner of her eye. “Do you use the gliders when you visit the other clans in the region?”

  “No. We take shuttles, similar to the ones on the Starhawke.”

  Of course they would. It was strange, but she kept forgetting how advanced their technology was. They’d created their world so perfectly to harmonize with the natural beauty around them, rather than putting their technology front and center, that her mind believed she really was in a rustic setting. Their method had a subtlety that enabled everything they needed to be hidden in plain sight.

  “So tell me more about the predators we might see out here.” She wanted to be prepared in case they had a face-to-face encounter.

  “We have four in this region that pose a serious threat, but two of them are not a problem when traveling by glider. The velpar are raptor-like pack creatures that hunt the trebolks above the canopy, and the resheeks are slow-moving amphibians that resemble giant salamanders, but with a bite like a crocodile.”

  “Fun.”

  “Oh, they are. At least on the ground.” He guided them closer to the compound’s outer buildings as they made their way around the perimeter. “But we will need to watch out for the greewtaith and the relquirs.”

  “And what are they like?”

  “The greewtaith look like thirty-meter aquatic snakes, with barbed fins along their backs and sides that they use to anchor themselves to the trees. And to their victims. If one grabs hold, nothing short of death will make it let go.”

  Aurora tightened her grip on the controls. “So don’t get close. Got it.”

  “They rely on visual acuity to locate prey, so most of the time they float on the surface of the waterways where you can see them from above. However, if they use the barbs to twine around the root systems of the trees, they can lift out of the water, putting them on a level with the glider.”

  Aurora’s heart rate kicked up a notch. “O-kay. How do you avoid that?”

  “You listen for them. Their bulk prevents them from staying out of the water for more than a few seconds. When they lift up, they make a bellowing noise from the exertion.”

  “You listen for them? You mean they make this noise in the split second before they grab onto you?” She risked a glance over her shoulder. “I’m not a Kraed. I don’t have your fabulous sense of hearing. Or your reaction speed.”

  He had the audacity to look amused. “Do not worry. I will be listening.”

  “Good to know.” She faced forward again. “And the relquirs? What’s their story?”

  “They are the real danger.” His tone indicated he wasn’t kidding. “They look innocuous when they are resting against the trees. In fact, they can be mistaken for large chunks of bark when they are immobile. They have thin membranes that stretch from their upper limbs to their lower ones and a narrow torso, somewhat like enormous flying squirrels.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  “Until you realize how deadly they are. Like a spider, they spin a thread that they attach to the tree before plummeting at incredible speeds to snatch their prey out of the air. They have a reach of almost three meters, and are very strong. They wrap their prey in the membranes like a cocoon and secrete a neurotoxin in their bite that immobilizes their victim. Then they climb up the thread to reach their nests in the lower branches to feed.”

  Aurora shivered despite the heat and humidity. “And how do we defend ourselves against that?”

  “By staying alert. When they move, they are easy to see. Their underside is bright red and the membrane has an iridescent quality. As soon as they leave the tree, they stand out like a beacon.”

  “Uh-huh. I’m beginning to understand why Kraed have developed a sixth sense about danger.”

  “You are correct. But you and I would not be out here if I believed you were at risk.”

  Very true. He’d always made it clear that her safety and wellbeing were his primary concern. He’d made a pledge to that effect the day they’d met. Besides, the predators of this world probably had more to fear from her than she did from them. And wasn’t that a sobering thought?

  A flash of bright color in the trees off to their right caught her attention and she focused on it. Was she about to encounter her first relquir? But the shapes quickly resolved into a flock of winged creatures that somewhat resembled parrots, their brightly colored bodies creating a living rainbow against the backdrop of the trees.

  “They are harmless,” Jonarel said. “Would you like to take a closer look?”

  “Absolutely.”
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  The glider picked up speed and Jonarel maneuvered them so they were flying in perfect sync with the flock as it soared through the trees. The creatures didn’t pay them any mind, even though they were close enough to touch.

  “They’re beautiful,” she breathed on a sigh.

  Jonarel’s reply sounded a little husky. “Yes, they are.”

  The creatures changed direction but Jonarel didn’t follow. Instead he headed toward a grove of trees that looked different than the ones near the compound. He slowed as they approached, the glider slipping up silently until they hovered next to one of the trunks.

  She turned her head to ask him what they were looking for but he lifted a finger to his lips and pointed into the trees.

  “Listen,” he whispered.

  Aurora strained to make out whatever she was supposed to be hearing. She heard the rustle of leaves and the burble of water below, but nothing that sounded like an animal. At least not…wait a minute. There. She finally caught a snippet of something in the distance. It sounded like someone drawing a bow over the strings of a cello. The deep resonant hum came again, playing over a few notes, up and down, before fading out.

  She stared into the shadows, trying to spot any sign of movement. The hum began again, but this time it was coming from the other side of the tree closest to them. The notes were pitched higher than the first, more like a viola, and they continued for nearly a minute before fading away.

  “What are they?” she whispered.

  “Clestoks.”

  “Which are what?”

  His golden eyes sparkled. “Furred herbivores that live off the leaves of this particular tree species. The music is how they communicate.”

  “What do they look like?”

  “They resemble a cross between a sloth and a koala. But much bigger.”

  Aurora peering into the darkness. That was something she wanted to see. “Are any of them visible right now?”

  “No. They are hidden under the cover of the leaves. They are more mobile at night.”

  “Is that to protect them from predators?”

  “Not really. They have sensitive eyes, so they hate bright light. They can inflict a lot of damage with their claws, more than you might guess by looking at them. The predators tend to avoid them.”

  The low notes began again, some in the distance, some nearby as others joined the conversation. The voices melded and blended in perfect harmony, some fading while others picked up the melody and took it in a new direction. It was like listening to an impromptu orchestra rehearsal, especially when a high-pitched voice joined in, sounding for all the world like a squeaky fiddle.

  “What’s that?”

  “The young. That is how they ask for food.”

  Aurora grinned. “And with a voice like that, I’ll bet the parents are quick to feed them.”

  “No doubt.”

  They listened in companionable silence for several minutes, the music of the voices wrapping Aurora in a spell of enchantment. But the longer she held her position, the more aware she became of Jonarel’s nearness. A quick glance confirmed he was watching her rather than the creatures in the grove.

  “So, what else do you have to show me?” she asked, pulling back.

  He studied her for a moment. “Would you like to see some of the aquatic creatures?”

  “Is that safe?”

  “You are always safe with me.”

  And if that comment wasn’t loaded with double meanings, she’d eat her boots.

  “Then let’s go.” She was determined to ignore whatever implication he was making.

  They set off again, this time skimming closer to the water. “Look for flashes of silver,” he called out as the wind rushed past them.

  “What am I going to see?”

  “Kritoks. They are shaped somewhat like tiny dolphins, and they travel in schools like fish. Their skin has a metallic sheen to it.”

  Aurora adjusted her grip on the controls to maintain her balance as she leaned forward and gazed into the clear water ahead of them.

  “To your right.” Jonarel banked the glider and followed a slightly different course.

  She looked in the direction he’d indicated and sucked in a breath. He’d said they traveled in schools, but she hadn’t anticipated that the waterway would look like it was alive. Thousands of small creatures streaked through the water, creating a ribbon that bent and flowed around the trees like molten silver. But that wasn’t all. She couldn’t tell whether they were doing it for fun, or whether it was an efficient way to move ahead in the pack, but at any given moment a dozen or more would leap out of the water and plunge back into the swiftly moving tide.

  “Do they swim this fast to avoid the greewtaith?”

  “No. They are one of the few creatures that can kill a greewtaith. They are too small and fast for the greewtaith to catch, and the bony protrusions on their heads are effective battering rams. When they are hunting, they slam into the greewtaith en masse, like being pummeled by a thousand hammers. They can kill one in less than a minute, and feed the entire pod off the one body.”

  She grimaced. “And I was going to call them cute.”

  “They are cute.” Jonarel slowed the glider and the river of silver moved off into the distance. “And non-aggressive except when they are feeding. One pod stays fairly close to the compound, and some of the kritoks have become quite tame. We encourage it, because they keep the greewtaith away from the area.”

  And that was the strange dichotomy that was Drakar. It was home to the most advanced technological civilization in the known galaxy, yet the Kraed chose to live alongside the dangers of their world rather than trying to sanitize and control them. They could have cleared the trees and redirected the rivers so that they could insulate themselves, or killed off all the large predators, but instead they lived in small, integrated communities in the relative safety of the trees. And by working with their environment instead of against it, they’d maintained a connection with everything around them. It was a lesson well worth understanding.

  As they continued to wind their way through the forest, she tried to imagine what it would be like to grow up on Drakar, with all its inherent beauty and danger. She had a hard time visualizing it. “Your way of life is so different from how most people live on Earth.”

  “Yes. But not that different from the way the Lumians live.”

  That gave her pause. She’d never really compared the Lumians and Kraed, but now that he mentioned it, she could see a lot of similarities. They were both community focused, and also nature based. They were polar opposites when it came to skill with technology, but that wasn’t necessarily genetic. Come to think of it, Mya and her parents were all very adept with technology. The Lumians might be too, if they had the opportunity to learn. All kinds of talents might reveal themselves over time.

  Her musings were interrupted by an abrupt shift under her feet.

  “On the left!” Jonarel called out.

  As she registered the command and responded by activating her energy shield, a low wail filled the air like the beginnings of a siren, followed by the patter of falling water as an enormous triangle-shaped head rose into view.

  The greewtaith’s skin was grayish-blue, but the spines on three sides of its body that were latched onto the bark of the nearby trees were dark brown and hooked like cactus thorns. The creature’s forehead had a crest that flared upward as it opened its jaws, revealing thousands of jagged teeth.

  However, it clearly wasn’t going after them. They were at least thirty meters away from the aquatic nightmare and viewing it in profile. A flash of bright red and iridescence appeared just before the greewtaith’s mouth snapped shut on its victim. The creature shrieked in pain, its head sticking out from the row of teeth.

  “A relquir.” The air punched in and out of her lungs. “It just caught a relquir.”

  The greewtaith’s torso plummeted, the struggling relquir clasped firmly in its jaws. When it hit the water
, the resulting splash sounded like cannon fire. The rest of the creature’s long body followed as the barbs disengaged from the tree trunk and the greewtaith slid below the surface of the water.

  Aurora stared at where the two creatures had disappeared. Her stomach churned. Intellectually she understood that predators hunted to survive, but she wasn’t used to watching it first hand. And given a choice, she wouldn’t have seen it this time, either.

  Keeping a firm grip on the controls, she looked over her shoulder. “Did you know that was going to happen?”

  Jonarel shrugged. “The relquirs like to hunt in this area and there was a good chance you would have a chance to see them dive. But I had not counted on the greewtaith waiting for them.” His expression changed to one of concern as he tuned into her reaction. “Are you okay?”

  Nope. Not even remotely. But that’s not what came out of her mouth. “I’m fine.”

  The look in his eyes told her he didn’t believe her. Not one bit. “Hang on.”

  He set the glider in motion and they flew in silence for a couple minutes, slowing as they approached a tree with a wide branch that jutted out parallel to the water far below. He maneuvered the glider next to it and engaged the stabilizers. Before she could react, he unsnapped her harness and slipped one muscular arm around her waist, pulling her with him so that they were standing face to face on the meter-wide branch.

  She stumbled, but his arms locked around her torso, keeping her steady. He, on the other hand, was solid as a rock, no doubt because he was using the claws in his feet to grip the bark. She latched onto his biceps for stability, his muscles flexing beneath her fingers.

  His expression was deadly serious. “Do not lie to me, Aurora.” A deep groove appeared between his brows as he frowned. “You are not fine. And you know it.”

  She swallowed as her insides flip-flopped. He’d never really called her on her tendency to evade before, but then again, ever since they’d arrived on this planet, his attitude toward her had shifted. Apparently he was leaving subtle behind and going straight to direct. “You’re right. Seeing that really upset me.” She blew out a breath. “Saying I’m fine when I’m not is a very old habit. I’ve spent my entire life hiding the truth.” And she wasn’t just talking about her feelings.