My thoughts circled. What am I doing here? Did Krii truly send me? If not, was it just my imagination when I sensed his bidding? If so, why didn’t he care enough to protect Jaria?
Tiaro and Rekala tried to console me through the waves, but I pushed them out of my mind and locked myself in. It seemed like a good idea to just keep my head under the water until it killed me, but my body refused to go down so easily. It spasmed and pulled me sideways out of the water. Gasping with sorrow and breathlessness, I slowly rolled onto all fours.
My hands crunched into fists and, grasping as many rocks as I could, I hurled them into the river. If I could have screamed I would have, but no sound would come out of my throat. It was trapped inside me; a pain, like thirst, that could never be quenched. I crouched there for a long time throwing stones at the water and brooding.
Much later a shadow passed over me in the afternoon sunlight. I looked up and could just make out a flying shape in the clouds. Beyond the clouds the sky shimmered and undulated with a strange, unnatural glow as if a mantle had been spread right over it from horizon to horizon. So the barrier was visible up there, in places. The flying shape grew larger as it descended, reminding me of the hawk that had once nearly killed me. For some reason I wasn’t frightened, but I stood up when I realised the shape was heading straight for me.
I bit my tongue in shock as a skyearl of phenomenal size landed beside me with a thump. Its thickly padded paws left footprints the size of a barrel. Its neck arched backwards so that the lizard-shaped muzzle rested majestically on a muscular chest, which was thickly furred. Its head was the size of an entire horse and had a similar shape to a horse’s head as well. It was covered in rope-like fur that ranged from all shades of amethyst purple to sapphire blue and emerald green.
Its golden nose was tipped with three shiny domes, one for each century. They were his life gems, indicating both that he was alive and that he would die beside his Sleffion since he had already lived past one century. Large purple-ivory horns poked out of the ruff along his brawny neck. Two arm-length horns adorned the outline of each cheek bone, mere decorations when compared with the immense triplet of purple claws on his four lion-like feet.
The rest of his body was covered with glossy fur except the wings, which were feathered. The colours and patterns on the feathers were so beautiful—they appeared to shimmer from blue to purple to green. In this posture, the top curve of his wings touched the back of his neck and fell from there like a waterfall. His muscled tail, which was thicker than the trunk of a cedar tree, curled regally around his powerfully built hind legs.
A true chimera, the skyearl seemed made of lizard, lion, eagle and horse. He regarded me with a calculating, golden eye. The pupil was shaped like a bird in flight. I stood there mystified by his size and magnificence, but unafraid. Knowing he was a being of goodness, I had no fear, only awe.
He cocked his head and I sensed the locks on my wave-link being pried gently open. Suddenly the skyearl broke through and a tide of knowledge rushed into my mind. My legs went slack and the skyearl’s clawed hand caught me as I fell, and held me until I stopped shaking. The shovel-sized claws protruded on either side of my body, cupping me dexterously between two fingers.
The creature’s memories were like a window upon the world of skyearls. I had not imagined until now that there was so much more to know. This skyearl had been alive for nearly three centuries—waiting for me! The realisation that I truly was an Astor now filled me with such emotion that tears streamed from my eyes. My soul was so full of intense emotions and new information that my grief melded into my elation and brought me to a place of complete humility.
Who was I to have been spared Jaria’s fate? Who was I to be here in this place with these people and these miraculous gifts? I wondered if I would be ready when my time came to really use my Astor abilities against the Zeikas. How would I—a lowly and destitute orphan from a town that had been wiped from the face of Chryne—stand up to the most powerful sorcerers the world had ever known? If the people of Tanza hadn’t been able to defeat the Zeikas, how would I help them, even if I was an Astor?
The anger in my heart receded as I glimpsed the skyearl’s own terrible grief and sadness for countless lives lost. The concerns of Jaria seemed small now that I fathomed the true lifestyle and magnitude of Tanza. Thousands of Tanzans died every year in Zeika raids—despite the strength of the barrier shield, the sorcerers were sometimes able to break through using human sacrifices to counter the barrier’s magic.
Several hundred years ago Bal Harar had learned how to conjure dragons, the only real threat to a skyearl. Since then, the Zeikas had done everything in their power to overthrow the people of Tanza.
The blue and purple skyearl who held me had overseen thousands of battles in his lifetime. He had tasted the magic-sour flesh of Zeikas. He had performed the shrouding many times and constructed an entire Sky Kingdom called Raer. I blinked stupidly as I absorbed more information from the skyearl’s mind. Without even having to ask, it became apparent to me that Sky Kingdoms looked like ordinary clouds from the ground, but solid-ground floated above them. In some parts of Tanza, there were literally cities in the sky.
‘Is this real?’ I asked through the waves, picturing one of the cities in my mind.
He chuckled aloud, his voice soft and deep. Though his silvery lips moved with the precision of a human being, out came a thick, husky sound. His accent was odd, even compared with the other Tanzans I had heard. He seemed to favour long vowel sounds like ‘ay’ and ‘o’. And so he spoke my true name.
‘It is real, Theon.’
It resounded like a bell in my mind; a new turning point in my life. I was now Astor Theon, a man with a great destiny, a man who no longer feared birds, a man with the most tremendous Sleffionkin in the world. The skyearl pushed me to my feet and grinned at me. The intimate wave-link we had shared a moment ago snicked closed and I staggered a little as I regained my equilibrium, both physically and mentally.
‘You have done well to take all that in, kindred,’ the skyearl spoke. ‘But we will share information through speech for a while. I don’t wish to overwhelm you.’
‘You’ve already done that,’ I responded without malice. ‘I don’t even know who I am anymore, let alone who you are. We’ll have to take this slowly.’
‘What would you like to know?’
I scratched the back of my head, staring up at the skyearl’s massive body. The skyearls I had seen in Sarm many years ago hadn’t seemed quite so magnificent.
‘Are all the skyearls in Tanza this big?’ I asked.
‘Nay.’ He lifted one purple claw to scratch his neck. ‘I am of the old breed, but even among the Keltoar I am the largest and oldest skyearl in Tanza. My name is Ciera.’
I blinked, licking my lips. ‘Ciera… the Emperor Ciera?’
‘The very same,’ he said with amusement.
My hopes suddenly flared. ‘I was sent here because of your invitation to all Kriites, Ciera. My people sent me even though I was their only Anzaii, and now Jaria Village has been wiped out by Zeikas. Will you fly back with me to free the survivors who’ve been enslaved?’
‘We will go back when the time is right,’ Ciera started gently, ‘but I feel that won’t be for a while yet. I have not waited three hundred years for you so that you could rush through our bonding and fly me off without learning a thing or two about your new gifts and responsibilities.’
‘Can’t you do something now, like send a squadron of warriors in our stead?’
‘I could,’ he said aloud, ‘but against the wishes of the king of Tanza. Skyearls have hardly been seen in Telby for decades because we were exiled from that land. In fact, Jaria had some part in that. So it is a delicate matter to send in warriors uninvited.’
‘My own father had some part in the exile,’ I muttered, ‘but even he recognised that Tanza and Jaria were not enemies. Besides, the ban against the Zeikas has been lifted—perhaps it’s a free-for-all
now.’
‘It is not my place to make decisions for Tanza that may have political ramifications,’ Ciera replied.
‘Please…’ I began, desperation blinding me to the possible consequences.
Ciera sent a thread of calmness through the waves, which sank me to my knees. A vertigo more powerful than drunkenness grasped me, yet would not let me rest. I closed my eyes and thought I heard a faint tune.
‘The first thing we must do is make sure you go through the proper training of a Sleffion,’ he said. ‘Then we’ll go on to Centan where you may present your concerns to the human king. You mustn’t take the Sleffion gift or the full rank of Astor lightly.’
Frustration flared in me at his words. I didn’t take them lightly—I was merely worried sick about my home. I wanted to protest, but the emperor’s mind was too strong. A hint of music flowed between us; so soothing and entrancing that I began to relax. It was like a steadying heartbeat with the shaking of a seed-pod and a slowly emerging clavichord, followed by pipeflutes and strings. Never before had I heard such diversity in music or been so entranced by it. Slowly the melody made itself known, pleasantly dramatic, underscoring my emotions.
My hatred for the Zeikas seemed petty and irrelevant in the presence of such a wise being, someone who had experienced the wrath of our enemies even more than I had. He understood the fierce loyalty I had for Jaria, just as he also perceived the deeper knowledge within me that Jaria itself had grown detached from the rest of society. As much as I hated to admit it, there was more to the current conflict than Jaria and Reltland alone.
The heartbeat continued slowly, in time with Ciera’s own heartbeat. The chorus was both poignant and uplifting and I felt a deep satisfaction each time the song built to the chorus. I found myself holding my breath waiting for it and then breathing out slowly when it played in Ciera’s mind. The emperor skyearl held me quietly until my emotions subsided.
‘What was that?’ I asked him.
A sense of love and hope flowed from him, enrapturing me. I waited long moments for his reply, the song still echoing between us.
‘It is Halduronlei,’ he replied, using the waves with me for the first time, ‘meaning “weatherstorm”. It is my soothing song, a focusing song I use to calm myself when the battle-fury is upon me; to learn to weather the storm of my emotions. All skyearls have a soothing song and it is usually their Sleffion who must make the music for them, not the other way around.’
His rebuke, though gentle, chastened me. Throughout my childhood, many in Jaria had complained about my temper, which was part of the reason I preferred solitude. Perhaps I did lack self-control.
Ciera turned my attention back to himself. Understanding and respect flowed through me and I realised I had a lot of learning to do before Ciera and I could properly bond. I also sensed that the emperor’s desire to help my people was almost as strong as my own. Even if the king of Tanza refused to ally with Jaria, Ciera would try to persuade him to do what he could to win their freedom. Perhaps Tanza could buy their freedom—the Zeikas’ greed for gold and gems was legendary—or send someone to quietly get them out without connecting the rescue with Tanza.
‘We will do what we can for the survivors from Jaria when the time is right,’ he acknowledged.
Hope flowed through me.
Hearing the squeak of leather behind me, I glanced back. Sarlice stood behind me with her arms folded, looking up at the huge skyearl. Kestric and Rekala stopped in front of her as if to shield her from danger. Their tails twitched nervously and in the paradoxical manner of cats they exuded both wariness and ferocity. Rekala’s uncertainty coursed through the waves and Kestric’s lip curled up in a menacing snarl.
Ciera hunkered down so his head was on their level and said, ‘I’m pleased to meet you Rekala and Kestric.’
His words reverberated strongly through the waves as well as out loud. Unlike wild animals, skyearls were sentient, so they could use the waves with each other from birth, but this was the first time Ciera had communicated with Rada-kin. As expected, he had access to my wave abilities and was now able to converse with all Rada-kin. Even though Rekala understood, a rough growl rumbled from her throat at the unfamiliar voice and the enormous physical presence of the skyearl. Her logical mind was not yet developed enough to overcome the instinctive rejection of something so alien. Kestric’s ears flattened tight to his skull and he lifted his claws to strike. Ciera took hold of the tigers through the waves and sent such an overwhelming sense of peace that the Rada-kin flopped into the grass looking puzzled. Their stripes shivered as if they were being bitten by flies.
‘Greetings Tiaro and Fyschs,’ Ciera said to the earring and the sword respectively. Each item sung back to him on the waves, emanating the pleasure and relaxation that was left over from the skyearl’s Soothing Song.
‘It is a pleasure to meet you,’ Tiaro said, her fascination with his vast experience in the waves apparent. She perceived that even the skyearls’ magical abilities with shrouding were connected to the waves. It would take time for her to process everything from Ciera’s mind, but eventually I knew Tiaro would provide me with some valuable insights to the wonders of the Sleffion-kin.
I lay on my belly and encouraged Sarlice to do so as well. There was no way for us all to be included in the conversation because only Sarlice, Ciera and I could speak out loud. The others could converse on the waves, but only inasmuch as I could, so all my kin could interact with each other, but the only one who could interact directly with Sarlice and Henter was Kestric.
‘Your wave abilities may continue to expand,’ Tiaro said. ‘One day, you may be able to reach other people’s Sleffion-kin and Tolite-kin… perhaps even other humans. Then, you will be able to connect us all together in one wave conversation.’
‘Incredible,’ I replied.
I knew by the way Sarlice was looking at me that Kestric had passed on Tiaro’s words. I already felt dizzy from perceiving the awareness of each kin in the waves and the way they danced and swirled around me, connected to each other only through me.
‘So this is what it means to be Anzaii?’ I asked them collectively.
Their voices came back over the top of each other, trying to encourage me and lend their support. Eventually, Ciera’s voice won through.
‘This is what it means to be Astor,’ he corrected. ‘An Anzaii is only as powerful on the waves as he is experienced with each of the other gifts. Over time, you must develop them all if you are to reach your full potential.’
I sensed relief from Rekala, who had been wondering if she was still as important to me as she had been in the early days. I reached out to ruffle the fur on top of her head.
‘Of course you are,’ I said. ‘You are my first kindred and no matter where we go, even if we are apart, you carry a part of me inside you.’
‘And I in you,’ she affirmed.
We lay there for some time getting used to Ciera. Throughout the encounter, the emperor skyearl held back his mind so as not to flood Rekala, Tiaro and I with new knowledge. Instead, he caused his vast experiences to seep through so that we had a chance to discuss the things we learned with Sarlice and Kestric and commit them to memory in our own unique ways.
By the time I looked up from our engagement, the day-star was setting. The rich, teal sky rippled in the distance with the strangely translucent, shiny skin of the barrier. Ruddy orange clouds clustered above the distant cliffs and the two moons waited patiently for night to fall.
Chapter Three—The Prophecy
Sarlice kicked the side of my foot, jolting me out of a melancholy reverie. We were in the middle of a worship service in the Hall of Hallows and I had been staring at an immense mural of a castle in the sky instead of listening to the announcements of Keryn Alger, the Duke of Lantaid. Everyone was now on their feet, so I stood up slowly. I stretched my arms, popping the joints loudly by accident. Sarlice stifled a laugh, several heads turned and a young boy snickered.
Rekala and Ke
stric were clustered on a raised platform to one side with the other Rada-kin. There were water troughs, bales of hay and plush carpets for the comfort of the animals. Most of the kindred listened to the service and participated when they could. As the official-looking people up the front continued with their talk, Rekala and I allowed our thoughts to wander again.
Two days had passed since our first meeting with Ciera and since then we had scarcely seen him. He said he had urgent things to attend to before he could devote himself to us and it would be better to get them out of the way now. I sensed that the sudden change we represented to his life was both welcome and a burden. He was, after all, a being who had been alive for hundreds of years, doing whatever he willed. That he had climbed the ranks and become Emperor spoke volumes about his ambition and leadership abilities. Among skyearls, Emperor was a democratic position, not an inherited one.
I wondered if newlyweds felt the same way—separate beings thrust into one life together and suddenly having to share everything.
Ciera’s priorities and motivations had begun to merge with Rekala’s, Tiaro’s and mine, leaving us all trying to sort out where that left us. My bonding with Rekala hadn’t been anywhere near as complicated, because she had come into the civilised world through me. Rekala brought few desires of her own save filling her belly and snoozing for as much of the day as she could.
Ciera, on the other hand, had countless responsibilities to the people of Lantaid and other parts of Tanza as well as the thousands of Sleffion-kin he knew personally. My desire to get help for Jaria and Lyth had pushed its way forward in his mind, but also now I perceived a bigger picture.
For the time being, our quest to speak with the king of Tanza was on hold. Using the waves, Ciera had contacted the Sleffion-kin of the royal couple’s chief scribe, a lady by the name of Skylien. Ciera had been assured that the king and queen would attend to us soon after our arrival in Centan to discuss the needs of Jaria and Lyth. The sense of urgency that had driven me thus far had diminished somewhat, to be replaced by a sick feeling of dread. It was too late now for trade agreements—all I could hope for was Tanza’s charity and its willingness to send a rescue party.
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