by Domino Finn
Her eyes were mottled blue and white, like the sky. They studied me curiously, then she said, "You two move along, now. You don't have any business here."
I nodded briskly. Tyson hadn't even paused long enough for that. We stomped away from the huts, meeting the dirt road and staying on it until the hunting outpost shrank in our wake.
I let my shoulders relax. The tug on the shadow eased up. We wouldn't need to fight just yet, but it was only a matter of time.
And then there was Tyson. The woman had said he was owned by another. If elementals served in bondage, who did Tyson swear fealty to? It was clear he had a plan, but I was beginning to second guess the part I was playing.
Chapter 14
The journey was easier going on the road. Despite running alongside the rocky cliff edge, the land was flatter here. My jeans and tank top didn't exactly scream local but the few travelers we passed kept to themselves, possibly more wary of us than the other way around.
Most of the time I kept my gaze on the sea of fog, looking for glimpses of the sky below. I imagined Miami was down there somewhere. I never saw anything. The clouds were vast sheets of matter held together with a kind of surface tension. More familiar cumulus clouds littered the distant sky. It was a sight that defied reason. Beautiful but barren. Constricting but vast. As the sun faded into the growing layer of overcast sky, I saw something even more amazing.
Miles away, a structure extended to the heavens. Floated, even. And it wasn't just a structure but a series of them. Horizontal concentric rings, like roadways, circled a mighty tower. Each ring was made up of hundreds of smaller buildings, jutting into the sky like weathered teeth. The mighty skyline was so far away it was difficult to judge its size.
An entire metropolis nestled in the clouds.
"The capital city of Maqad," said Tyson. "Seat of the shah." He grunted and trekked forward as if his words fully explained everything.
The city was magnificent, perched high above the drift. Pillars led below the structure and down into the fog. I wondered if those were supports, like houses built on stilts. Except what would they be standing on?
I admired the stunning horizon. It looked like a painting except the clouds were moving. (It would've made a killer animated desktop.)
"Why do I get the feeling that's our destination?" I asked.
He smiled at me. "Because that's where the Aether's power base lies."
I frowned. I didn't want to bring up the obvious, but we couldn't exactly fly over there. I didn't consider myself scared of heights in general, but it seemed like ninety-nine percent of anything in this steppe was open sky. It would be hard not to fall into permanent oblivion.
"Here it is," said the elemental.
I shifted my eyes to the road. Ahead of us was some kind of bazaar. Red and yellow tents crisscrossed our once direct path like a flea market from hell. Crowds of jinns and elementals wandered the stalls. A blue-painted man haggled with a winemaker. A crone displayed cages of birds that crackled with electricity. Dogs with jagged stripes chased each other, stitching between passersby. It was ten kinds of crazy, and pretty soon we were smack dab in the middle of it.
The crowd was a good thing, I told myself. This was a bustling trading hub. Everyone was too busy trying to make a buck to focus on the human and the rogue elemental. We slalomed through the people with little trouble. I didn't even have to worry about my pockets being picked because my possessions didn't exist in the Aether.
The marketplace was larger than it had seemed from a distance. Rows and rows of tent booths flapped in the wind. I followed Tyson's lead and ignored it all. We escaped through the bazaar and found ourselves in the town proper. Clay buildings constructed in bricklike clumps, mostly low to the ground. The alleys weren't empty but the people here lacked the bustle of the marketplace. The buildings were simple but effective. We headed toward one of the few exceptions—the only one with an arched roof.
Like a church at the center of a colonial town, the tallest building towered over the others, visible from blocks away. It was an impressive mix of clay and stone, but it was also the oldest building around, showing signs of age and even damage. The entire facade was covered in drapery. Steel beams supported a cracked wall. This place was mid restoration.
Tyson threw the thick red curtain aside and we hurried into the public house. Mid restoration was both right and wrong. There was no remodeling going on, but the front wall of the building was half missing. The curtains were a temporary enclosure. Ignoring that, everything else was normal.
The interior wasn't fancy, exactly, but it was decadent compared with everything else I'd seen so far. A deep crimson carpet softened my boot steps. Similar red curtains lined the walls at intervals, framing low booths of cushions. Group hookahs dotted the floor. Men and women sat on pillows and passed their pipes in a circle. Tall, thin cups, flared like hourglasses, clumped around steaming ceramic pots.
I turned to my host, unimpressed. "I can't decide if this is a tea house or an opium den. Either way, no thanks. I'm more of a coffee guy. Cuban, preferably."
"Sorry," said Tyson. "No coffee here."
"Not even a Starbucks?"
A wisp of smoke thickened beside us, growing into a ghostly figure. Most of it was translucent except for the face: vacant eyes and drooping mouth. Tyson mumbled something to the elemental and it nodded and led us to a dark nook. A low table lined the curved red mattress that made up our booth. I watched Tyson sit, half worried his molten essence would set the cushion ablaze. Thinking about it, this whole place was a fire hazard. But nothing happened and I didn't want to stand out, so I sat as well.
"What is this?" I asked.
My voice was jarring, like I was yelling in a library. I kinda preferred the commotion outside. At least that way I knew the attention was elsewhere. But I looked around. Half the crowd chatted in low whispers and the rest seemed content to relax in comfortable silence.
I turned when Tyson didn't answer. He was staring ahead at nothing, moping more than usual. I leaned forward and repeated myself in a forceful whisper. "What is this?"
His red eyes studied me and then flicked to the side table. The smoke elemental appeared with a tea pot. He poured a greenish drink into three hourglass cups and set the pot down with a bow. Then he seemed to waver until I couldn't tell him apart from the ambient smoke.
"Drink," said Tyson, quickly taking his own advice and downing a cup. I picked mine up. The pot was ceramic but I couldn't tell what the cup was made out of. Not bone, not ivory, but something similar maybe. I studied the liquid more carefully. It smelled like tea but more pungent. Little bits of spice swirled in the cup. I scooted further in, rested my back against the stone wall, and tentatively took a sip.
Bitter. Not floral or herbal. Grassy. The flavor was subtle but strangely potent. I had a larger taste and felt invigorated.
Tyson sighed. "Memories. Nostalgia. Is this what it feels like to be human?"
I arched an eyebrow. "It's just tea, bro."
"Tea's important to my people. Look around."
I did again. Groups traded smiles. Others closed their eyes as if relaxing at the beach. Brown-skinned, olive, and black—the crowd was eclectic but harmonious. "I don't—"
"Tea houses are the one place where aspects sit alongside jinns. That woman in purple with the hookah, that bald man in the long coat—they're elementals."
I squinted sideways at them. "I can't tell."
He shrugged. "They even welcome humans in here, as rare as it is." He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Kita was here twice."
I paused mid sip. The dead paper mage. He was talking about her like he loved her, but he was an elemental. That's why he was going on about human emotion and nostalgic memories.
"She's the reason you're doing this," I said. "Isn't it?"
Tyson didn't answer this time, choosing to remain stoic and mysterious. He remained in his elemental form. Besides the spooky waiter, no other aspect here had. I finished my cup
and went to pour another. My eyes fell on the third cup.
"We're meeting someone," I said, not a question but a revelation.
This time Tyson graced me with a nod. He still wasn't talking. I slammed my cup down.
"Listen, I'm all for your plan to bring Connor down. This is your home. You know it better than I do. But I'm not some lost puppy for you to drag around. I need to know things."
His eyes met mine again. "Like what?"
I shifted and leaned on the wall again. "For one, how are we supposed to hurt Connor? He's still a jinn, right? If he walked in here right now, what would stop him from blinking around?"
"The rules you know—jinns can't hurt humans outside of a bargain—that all goes out the window. Those are the laws for the Earthly Steppe. It's different here, even for him. He can't flash around at will. He can't escape to your realm unless he moves to the outskirts in the wild." Tyson killed his cup and smacked his lips. "In the Aether, you'll find the jinn are exceedingly human."
Connor was vulnerable. I could work with that. "So we fight him here."
"We don't need to. It would still be too dangerous. He has too many connections. But those connections are his weakness too."
"You're not making sense, Tyson."
"The Aether is a world built on servitude," he stressed. "Servants for servants. Masters for masters." He narrowed his molten eyes. "And even Connor Hatch answers to another."
Holy shit. The drug kingpin of the Caribbean, the new Pablo Escobar—he had a master? Maybe that's why Connor spent so much time on earth. I couldn't imagine him bowing down to someone in a million years.
I opened my mouth to speak but instead heard an ear-piercing shrill. A man tumbled inside and into a group of pillows and people like a bowling ball. I jumped to my feet and looked to the front curtain. A humanoid twitched a feathery head sideways, staring at me with a single eye like a bird. His sharp beak cracked open and let loose another shrill cry. Then he came at me.
Chapter 15
I wasn't sure what I was looking at. Some cross between a man and a bird and a velociraptor. Besides the avian head, his skinny legs were wrapped tight like a kickboxer's. He wore a heavy cloth jerkin-and-pants combo, but his arms extended into thick plumage that matched his tail. I'm not talking frail, tickly feathers either. These were as thick as cowhide. A fact I became keenly aware of when a quick swipe whipped me across the head and spun me to the floor.
A heavyset man on the other side of the room charged him. The bird creature spun a short spear into his midsection. After impaling him, both feathered arms hurled the weapon overhead, lifting him off the carpet in a smooth arc and slamming him down on the other side. By that point the large man had transformed into a hulking mass of packed dirt. Another elemental.
With the birdman's back to me, I didn't wait. I somersaulted ahead and drew the murky opium-den environs to my fist. The creature turned around as my shadow punch met his stomach. He squawked and flew backward, bowling through the curtain at the entrance. I jumped to my feet and braced myself for a return attack.
The dirt aspect yanked the spear from his torso and dropped it beside him. Then he shook his head and returned to his seat, casting only a cursory glance outside.
Tyson sighed. "Skag raiders." He said it like he was talking about his tax return. Crappy, annoying, but a necessary and occasional evil.
I turned to all the other tea house patrons. The group that had been leveled were reaffixing their hookah to the bowl and had already rearranged their pillows.
"Is everyone just gonna sit there?" I asked.
One of them glared at me like I was causing a scene.
There was more shouting outside. Quick steps on dirt, weapons clacking together. I turned to Tyson. This was insane.
Another shrill caw interrupted us. Clawed feet scratched the carpet. The skags reentered the tea house. Two of them, this time. One held a short blade.
Tyson huffed. The magma flowing under his rockskin flared. "Oh, all right" he said, standing up. "It looks like this is going to be a distraction." He fell in at my side. A couple others stood as well, including the dirt elemental. I traded glances with everyone in our line. Then I smiled.
These skags didn't stand a chance.
The front facade of the establishment exploded outward. The curtain ripped. The steel framework snapped. Even a new piece of the stone wall broke away. In a flurry of smashing dust, the two skags crashed through the patchwork storefront and landed hard on the sand. The four of us followed outside to assess the damage. The two birdmen didn't get up. I now knew why the front of the tea house had been damaged and shoddily repaired.
Unfortunately, we didn't have a lot of time to bask in our defense of the establishment. The large alley of businesses was packed with scrambling denizens of the trading port. Some running for their lives, some protecting their shops, and some fighting the raiding party of skags.
"More and more of them," spat the dirt elemental beside me. He charged ahead to join the fray.
I turned to Tyson with a sour expression. "This isn't because of us, is it?"
"Don't be ridiculous. The skags are petty raiders who rebel against jinn rule. They're inconsequential."
I watched the electrified combat. Fists against feathers. Curved swords kept generally lighter weapons at bay. If the skags depended on flight, they wouldn't easily carry heavy weapons or armor. That flight, however, made up for the disadvantage. The birdmen swooped down from above and struck fast before retreating out of reach, only landing and engaging when they had a true advantage. So far they were harassing the townsfolk, but it wasn't a slaughter.
I felt the air beat on my back before I heard him. A huge skag raked at me with clawed feet. I shielded myself with my forearm. Sharp daggers clashed against my Nordic armor. I was knocked on my back as my attacker flew away.
The sun was blazing in the Aether but the sky was overcast enough to soften the light. That softened the shadows too. It didn't give me a lot to work with out here. I backed against a small wooden building that had an overhang.
Two birdmen landed on either side of me. The big one that had attacked me and a woman with a red-tipped tail. They both started squawking and it suddenly felt like I was in the middle of the most awkward mating ritual ever. Meanwhile, Tyson was chasing another skag down the road.
My two attackers didn't showboat for long. Moving as one, they struck. Redtail swung some kind of multi-pronged short leather whip while the other attacked with a kick again. I called on the shadow and faded into the floor. Both their swipes missed their mark. The skags fumbled to avoid hitting each other. That's when I made my move.
The spot of shadow was too small to change my position much, so I merely sidestepped and caught the woman's whip at the end of her swing. I yanked on it to spin her around and then kneed her in the stomach. As her thin frame doubled over, I clasped my hands together and brought them down hard on the back of her head.
At least, I tried to. The big one kicked me in the chest and shoved me back into the sun. I'd only glanced the woman's head, and she was still on her feet. The big skag jumped over her with a flutter of his wings and tried to stomp me with a heavy landing.
I rolled away, kicked my boots under me, and leapt at him. My fist swung wide as he darted to the side. I stumbled closer to the woman again, who was rearing up with another snap of her whip. I waved my hand at her area under the awning and the shadow went sludgy. Her strike slowed like she was underwater, fighting against the thickening darkness. I easily caught the whip again, pulled her toward me, off balance, and decked her.
She was down this time but I was distracted again. Sharp claws grabbed my shoulders and heaved me upward. The only thing I had a grip on was the pronged whip. I clutched it for dear life but it ripped free from the collapsing skag's hand and I took to the air.
Powerful wings beat over me, each bass drum lifting us higher. I willed a tentacle of shadow up. It snagged my boot and stalled the skag's ascent.
He glanced down and snarled, flapping harder. His sharpened toes curled and dug into my skin. I groaned and flailed, just five feet in the air. My alligator boot kicked over the awning. In a heartbeat, the shadow on the floor was snuffed out. My manifestation vanished, letting us take flight. We rose above the crowd. I saw Tyson fending off three skags at once.
I twisted in pain, trying to escape the skag's claws, but it was no use. His legs were strong. He let out a raucous series of chirps like laughter. Then he snapped at me with a pointed beak.
I jerked my head away. The second time his head came down, I shoved the whip into his mouth. He bit down hard but couldn't break the thick leather. His flight veered slightly out of control. My boots came close to the combat below me. But he ripped the whip away and spit it out. In seconds we were ascending again.
Screw this. If I let this wrestling match go any higher, all he had to do was drop me. I tried to pry his claws from my flesh but he only squeezed tighter. The searing pain made me momentarily dizzy. Warm blood washed over my fingers. And I smiled.
Tyson had told me my necromancy was useless in the Aether. That death worked differently here. Well, I wasn't sure how well skags and elementals and jinns bled, but I was still human, damn it.
Both my crimson-covered hands clamped onto the skag's thin ankles. With a force of will, I cursed the blood on my palms. It turned like sour milk. Burning, sizzling. The skag extended his body in shock. Loosened his toes. My chewed-up flesh fell free of his claws, but I held tight.
We were high in the sky now. I scanned the crowd and reoriented myself, finding Tyson below. He was still surrounded. A stream of lava blasted from his mouth but the birdmen dodged the attack. I grunted. We were too high for a freefall, but that status was rapidly changing.