Wings of Change

by Lyn Worthen

  Xochitl shrugged. She felt embarrassed at her reaction. “If you want,” she said, and crouched until her forejoints touched the ground. The princess pulled herself up and settled herself in the notches behind where Xochitl’s wings grew from her torso. Xochitl could barely feel the human’s weight. She probably shouldn’t have offered to let the human ride, but the drama of swooping into the flight’s stronghold with a princess perched on her back was too compelling for her to sacrifice.

  “Hold on,” she said. She crouched back on the coil of her tail and leaped into the sky.

  Now she could feel the princess like a fly on her skin, not precisely annoying, but noticeable. That was good, she decided. How awful it would have been if the princess fell off and Xochitl didn’t realize it until she landed!

  Xochitl rose steadily into the sky until she caught the warm currents of air she could glide through. “It’s not much farther,” she said.

  “It’s amazing,” the princess said. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. I think I can see Tenochtitlan from here.”

  Xochitl looked around. The red peaks rose like sullen embers beneath them, their lower slopes scruffy with pines that at this height looked like gray-green lichen clinging to the stone. Far in the distance, the human city was a series of angular bumps on the fertile plains. She was so used to seeing the ground from this perspective, she never thought of it as beautiful anymore. “I suppose,” she said. “I’m glad you’re not afraid.”

  “Oh, I’m terrified,” the princess said, “but it’s hard to hold onto that feeling at this altitude. What’s your name?”

  “It’s Xochitl.”

  “Xoch – as in, ‘flower’?” the princess asked.

  Xochitl scowled. “Do you have a problem with that?” She wasn’t about to explain how small her egg had been, how she had barely survived her first year, and that her parents had given her the soft, fragile name as a talisman. She’d rather have had a strong, assertive name like Itztli or Cuezaltol.

  “No,” the princess said quickly, “no, of course not. It just doesn’t seem to fit someone like you.”

  That mollified Xochitl. “What’s your name?”

  “It’s Coyotl.”

  Xochitl tried that out silently. “That’s a mouthful.”

  “Yes. Coyotl. Does that… mean anything to you?”

  “The animal that slinks through the foothills. Why?” It seemed an odd choice to name royalty, but that wasn’t Xochitl’s problem.

  “And that’s all?” There was an odd edge to the princess’s voice, as if she were hinting at some secret Xochitl should know.

  “Why should it mean anything else? I don’t know much about human naming customs.”

  Coyotl muttered something under her breath. “What was that?” Xochitl asked.

  “Nothing. Just… nothing.”

  “Well, hold on, we’re descending.” Xochitl banked and swooped low, disrupting a flock of sparrows. Coyotl made a startled noise, and Xochitl laughed. She’d never felt so exhilarated in her life.

  Dragons sunned themselves on the rocks outside the caverns as she approached, almost as if they’d intended to welcome her home. Xochitl slowed so they could get a good look at her, watched them sit up as they realized she had a passenger. With her wings backswept, she alit neatly on the cliffside in front of her parents’ cavern and crouched to let Coyotl climb off. She held out a hand to steady Coyotl as she swayed.

  “What’s this?” Actontli said, lifting off from a nearby peak and landing a dragonlength away. “A human?” The old dragon peered nearsightedly at Xochitl. “Surely you’re not old enough to capture a prize, youngling?”

  “She’s fifty-five, Actontli,” Xippalli said. “Why didn’t you tell us you intended to take a prize? We’d have given you a proper send-off.”

  “It must have been chance,” Pehuani said. Xochitl’s sister lounged in the crack below their parents’ cavern, cleaning her teeth with a sharp sixth claw. “An accident.”

  “No accident,” Xochitl said, baring her teeth at her sister in what might appear to be a smile. “I planned this for many twelvedays. And I captured a princess.”

  Sounds of astonishment echoed off the crags. “You did not,” Pehuani said, her languid pose replaced by sharp intensity.

  Xochitl nudged Coyotl gently. “I did.”

  Xippalli abruptly vanished into one of the crevices. The royal cavern, Xochitl realized. She was going to fetch Ilhuicatl. The thought set Xochitl’s heart pounding, though she knew she had nothing to fear from the queen.

  Coyotl backed into her tail. “You said dragons can read minds? All dragons?”

  “Yes. But don’t worry, Ilhuicatl won’t hurt you.”

  Coyotl shook her head. “And yet you can’t tell—”

  “Xochitl,” a booming voice said. “You have captured a prize.” Ilhuicatl emerged from her cavern, and Coyotl pressed even closer to Xochitl. She couldn’t blame the human for being afraid. Ilhuicatl was a third again as big as Xochitl, deep blood red with a gleaming pearly belly, wings feathered blue-black, and a voice that sounded like thunder. She climbed down the cliff face toward them, her pale blue eyes glinting against the matte-dullness of her scales.

  “I did,” Xochitl said. “This is Coyotl. She’s a princess.”

  “Really?” Ilhuicatl leaned down to sniff Coyotl. Coyotl stood very still, her eyes closed at how close the queen’s head was to her face. Ilhuicatl sat back and prodded Coyotl in the chest with a finger whose claw was, thankfully, sheathed. “Did the human claim to be a princess?”

  “No, I was able to tell from her dress and the way she treated the others.” Xochitl didn’t like the closed-off, dispassionate look on Ilhuicatl’s face. It wasn’t the expression of someone who was proud of a new adult.

  “Interesting.” Ilhuicatl sat back on her wide tail. “But this isn’t a princess.”

  Smoke jetted from both Xochitl’s nostrils at once. “What? Of course she’s a princess! Why would you say that?”

  “Well, for one thing,” Ilhuicatl said, her voice sardonic, “this human is a male.”

  Xochitl swung around to put her face up close to Coyotl’s. “But – what about the colorful clothing? And it has no weapon!”

  “It’s true only human males carry weapons,” Ilhuicatl said, her voice even drier than before, “but that’s not their defining characteristic. Humans have other features that indicate whether they’re male or female. If you’d had more contact with humans, you’d have known this.”

  “Don’t blame Xochitl,” Coyotl said. “I didn’t correct his misunderstanding.”

  “I’m female!” Xochitl said, outraged. A burst of laughter went up all around. Pehuani laughed harder than the others. Fire boiled in Xochitl’s second stomach, and hot blood rushed through her body in embarrassment.

  “It seems some humans are as bad at telling dragon sexes as some dragons are at identifying those of humans,” Ilhuicatl said. “You, human. Why didn’t you tell Xochitl you weren’t a princess?”

  Coyotl squared his shoulders in a pose even Xochitl recognized as defiance. “I didn’t want her going back for my sister. And you should be grateful she didn’t capture the princess. King Zolin would be sure to go to war over his abducted bride, once he knew you weren’t gods.”

  “As if humans are a threat to us,” Ilhuicatl said. “Your sister. Then you are—”

  “Prince Coyotl of Xiuhpilli,” Coyotl said.

  “Heir to the throne?”

  “No. I’m the youngest of my father King Huitzilin’s children.”

  Ilhuicatl glared at Xochitl. “You have been luckier than you deserve,” she growled.

  Xochitl bristled, trying to forget the laughter. “It was a mistake. Anyone might have made it.”

  “And what if a human city-state had come to war against us? How many human deaths might have resulted?” Ilhuicatl looked down at Coyotl. “Take the human back where you found him, then return to me. We will discuss the… consequenc
es… of your foolishness.”

  “But – my twelveday—”

  “You can’t believe you’d be allowed to keep that prize?” Pehuani jeered.

  “Enough,” Ilhuicatl said. “Don’t dawdle, Xochitl.”

  Another riffle of laughter went up among the watching dragons. Xochitl caught sight of her mother, sitting just inside the cavern entrance. She looked devastated. Xochitl wished the rocks would open beneath her feet and swallow her and Coyotl up, hide her shame. She crouched wordlessly for Coyotl to climb up, and the human did so with no comment. The laughter followed her as she dove into the sky again, and she wished she could rise high enough to outpace it.

  They flew south in silence for a few wingbeats until Coyotl said, “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? You’re not the idiot who can’t tell male from female. Or, I guess you are, but for you it doesn’t matter.” Xochitl swallowed bitter bile and wished the human would just keep his mouth shut.

  “I mean they shouldn’t have laughed at you. Really—” Coyotl laughed, setting the ruff at the base of Xochitl’s neck flaring in embarrassment and anger. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you did a remarkable thing, snatching me like that, not hurting anyone. They should have been impressed.”

  “Don’t patronize me.”

  Coyotl fell silent again. Xochitl felt unexpectedly ashamed of snapping at him, ashamed and even more embarrassed at being on the receiving end of pity from a soft human. Then Coyotl said, “Will you be in much trouble?”

  Xochitl’s hands clenched. “Some. It may be a while before they let me try to capture a prize again. I didn’t think… would the king really have been that angry?”

  “King Zolin needs this alliance,” Coyotl said. “And my father might have blamed him for my sister’s abduction. He’s not always rational where his children are concerned.”

  “Then he’d be angry over your capture, too?” Xochitl craned her neck to see Coyotl, but it was like trying to look down her own shoulder blades.

  “Not as much. We don’t get along.”

  Xochitl thought of her own parents, how much they loved their children, and felt a pang of sympathy for Coyotl. “I’m sorry I was stupid,” she said. “Can you see your caravan yet?”

  “No. They probably moved on as soon as you – that is, they’d want to get Yaretzi to safety quickly. Get her to Tehuaxaco, then send out a search party for me.”

  “I’m much faster than they are. They won’t reach the city before we find them.”

  Xochitl rose higher until the mountains were a reddish-brown smudge and the lowlands beyond were a dry brownish-green. A scraggly pine forest, scorched dusty green by the heat of the summer sun, covered the flanks of the Achtotetl Mountains between the granite peaks and the lowlands. Beyond it, to the east, lay the human city, its blocky stone dwellings angular and ugly to Xochitl’s eyes.

  “I think I see them,” Coyotl said. He shifted his weight, scraping his sandals across Xochitl’s scales. “But they’re not moving.”

  “Things seem to move more slowly when you see them from far away,” Xochitl said.

  “I know, but they really aren’t moving. There, on the right.”

  Xochitl searched the Gash until she saw the caravan. “You’re right,” she said. “Hold on.” She half-folded her wings and dove, prompting a cry from Coyotl that sounded excited rather than afraid. He was braver than she’d thought a human could be.

  Swooping low, she flashed past the procession, high enough that she wouldn’t spook the warriors, but low enough for Coyotl to exclaim, “They were attacked!”

  “Attacked? By what?” She slowed and furled her wings to land beyond the procession. Coyotl was off her back before she came to a full stop. Turning around, she surveyed the scene. Males in loincloths lay fallen in pools of blood around the litter, which was on its side.

  Coyotl ran to the litter and yanked open the curtain. “Yaretzi? Yaretzi!”

  “Is she—” Xochitl began.

  “She’s gone,” Coyotl said, backing away. “Bandit attack.”

  “I thought the bandits had been eradicated.”

  “So did we. But bandits who can defeat trained warriors…” Coyotl walked to one of the dead bodies and prodded it with his toe until it rolled over. “This was planned. Somebody wanted a royal hostage.”

  “I don’t understand. Who would care about that?”

  Coyotl shrugged. “Every royal family has enemies. Someone who wanted to start a war.” He strode back toward Xochitl. “Let’s go.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Coyotl hauled himself into the notch behind her wings. “They can’t have gone far. We have to rescue Yaretzi.”

  “What do you mean, ‘we’?” Xochitl exclaimed. “This is a human problem.”

  “If you hadn’t kidnapped me, I’d have been here to fight the bandits off.”

  “If I hadn’t kidnapped you, you’d have been killed or captured with your sister,” Xochitl pointed out.

  “You don’t know that.” Coyotl leaned out and forward so Xochitl could see his face. She wished she knew how to interpret human expressions. “Please. Yaretzi is in danger. She may be a brat, but she’s my sister, and I’m all she has right now.”

  “Ilhuicatl is waiting for me. I’ll be in more trouble if I delay.”

  “My father will be grateful. You can have any reward you like, I swear it. Don’t you think that would impress the other dragons?”

  “We don’t care about human honors,” Xochitl said, but the idea had taken hold of her mind already. Treasure wasn’t as impressive as a prize, but it wasn’t nothing, either. And a tiny part of her felt she owed Coyotl something for having captured him by mistake.

  “Then care about… about basic decency. You wouldn’t let a dragon stay captured by someone who meant her harm, would you?”

  “You’re really reaching now. As if any human could capture a dragon.” Xochitl sighed, letting smoke trickle out her nostrils. “All right. But we have no idea where they went.”

  “We didn’t see any movement along the pass,” Coyotl said, “so there’s only one way they could go. That path over there.”

  Xochitl scanned the forested cliffs rising above the Gash. “I don’t – you mean, that?” She pointed at a narrow opening that might have been slightly easier to climb through than the rest of the trees – easier for a human. There was no way she’d fit through. “That’s barely a path.”

  “Fly over it, and let’s see where it goes,” Coyotl urged.

  Xochitl pushed off with her powerful tail, flapping hard to gain altitude, until the Achtotetls were once more a reddish smudge carpeted with green beneath her. “This is too high!” Coyotl exclaimed.

  “Not for me,” Xochitl said, but she spiraled downward, feeling Coyotl lean out again with one hand clasping her feathered neck ruff. The path was more visible from above, a pale streak that wandered out of the rocky heights into the foothills covered with scraggly pines. Xochitl’s keen eyes saw a couple of deer wander along the path, and her stomachs rumbled with hunger.

  “There,” she said, pointing, “there in that clearing. That’s cloth. You humans make shelters out of cloth when you’re out of your cities, right?”

  “Tents,” Coyotl said. “I see them. It’s not a very big camp.”

  “So what now?” Xochitl swept past the camp and began making a wide turn to pass it again. “I could burn the… tents, is it?”

  “That might hurt Yaretzi. I have an idea. Can you fit between the trees?”

  Xochitl assessed the forest. “It would be a tight fit.”

  “It just has to be wide enough for you to set me down. I’ll sneak up on the camp, and you can fly low over it the way you did the caravan. That will spook the bandits, and I’ll run in and grab Yaretzi.”

  “That’s a terrible plan,” Xochitl said. “What if there are more survivors than just the princess? You can’t grab all of them. And you don’t have a weapon.”

  “All rig
ht, what’s your suggestion?” Coyotl sounded irritated.

  Xochitl thought for a moment. “I think,” she said, “we need a hostage of our own.”

  # # #

  Concealing herself among the trees was harder than making herself blend into the mountains. The mottled dusty green pattern that spread across her scales and feathers wasn’t a perfect camouflage, but it would have to be enough. She crept through the trees with Coyotl behind her, feeling pine resin stick to her palms where she caught her balance. Dragons were so awkward on land, their massive bodies and long tails throwing them off balance. So much better to fly.

  She felt the brush of human thoughts just as movement ahead startled her, and she stopped, putting out a hand to keep Coyotl from continuing. “Give me a minute,” she said.

  “Can you hear their thoughts?”

  “Barely.”

  Coyotl crouched beside her. “Can you hear my thoughts?”

  “Of course. But I’m not listening in now, if that’s what you’re asking.” Blocking out unwanted thoughts was a skill she’d learned in infancy.

  Coyotl grunted, but said nothing more. Xochitl listened and watched. These humans’ thoughts were a mixture of banal and vicious, though they weren’t currently inclined to violence. One of them was different. His thoughts – or was it her? Xochitl blushed in remembered humiliation – were full of gold, payment for the job he’d done. That would be the leader.

  She shifted forward slowly until she could see past the last of the scraggly pines clearly into the clearing and matched the thoughts to their owner. “When I grab their leader, you look for the princess,” she whispered to Coyotl, who nodded. Xochitl gathered herself for a leap, drew in a deep, pine-scented breath, and dove forward into the clearing, keeping her wings furled and her slim forelegs extended.

  Her target barely had time to scream before she bore him to the ground and set a razor-tipped claw against his soft throat. “Don’t move,” she snarled.

  Half the people in the clearing turned and fled, screaming. So much for loyalty, Xochitl thought. The other half backed away from her, drawing spears or those odd flat clubs with the obsidian edges. “You’ve taken something that’s mine,” she said to her captive. “Where is the princess?”