Sparrow Rising

by Jessica Khoury

  Nox’s wings flared slightly. “Which idea? The part where she tried to set us on fire? Or when she nearly throttled me to death?”

  “No, no, not that, obviously. I mean, that weird jewel has some kind of power to heal wingrot. And if that’s true, doesn’t that mean we have a duty to, well, use it?”

  Nox’s hand closed over the skystone. “Use it?”

  “To heal people, of course!” Ellie turned to face him. “Look, what good will it do anyone if you just hand it over to your crime lord? Even if he uses it to help people, won’t he try to charge them fortunes for it, the way Granny Tam would have? You saw Mally and her mother. They couldn’t have paid that in a hundred years.”

  Nox looked away.

  “I’m just saying,” Ellie pressed, “I think … I think we should give it to the Goldwings. Or even King Garion.”

  “Ha!” Nox snorted. “Now that’s the worst idea I ever heard.”

  “What? Why? He’s the king. It’s his job to take care of his people. He’ll know the best way to make sure everyone who needs it—”

  “Here we go again,” groaned Nox. “You and your blind trust in people you’ve never met. I can guarantee you, if you gave King Garion that stone, he’d just imprison you for thieving it in the first place. Then he’d probably lock it up in his treasury—or only use it to heal other high clanners.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize you knew the king so well! Do you meet up once a week for cards or something?”

  “You don’t get it, Sparrow. I don’t have to know him personally to know what he’s like. I see his hand at work every day in Thelantis, in the rules he makes, the way his soldiers treat us, the way he makes poor people rot in prison for not paying their debts, while rich high clanners can just buy their way out of any crime. He doesn’t care about you, about Mally, or anyone but his own kind.”

  “Then why does he send his Goldwings to defend us from gargols?”

  “Haven’t you heard of the gratitude tax?”

  “Huh?”

  Nox dashed his hand through the air. “Every time a Goldwing saves someone, their town has to pay an extra tax in return. They call it a gratitude tax.”

  “I … I never heard of that.”

  “It’s just another way of building up more power and more glory for themselves. Goldwings don’t save people out of the goodness of their hearts. They do it for money. They’re no better than mercenaries.”

  “That’s a lie!”

  “Why would I lie about it?”

  “Because you lie about everything! The first words you ever spoke to me were lies and it’s been nothing but lies ever since!”

  “Not all of it,” he grumbled. “I told you about the wild card thing.”

  “You can’t honestly tell me you think it’s better to let that stone sit in some lockbox when it could be saving hundreds of lives?” Ellie gazed at him pleadingly. “I know you’re not that heartless, Nox! You helped Mally without a second thought. You risked your life to get us out of Granny Tam’s. You might do a lot of bad things, but you’re not a bad person.”

  “I wish I could help,” he said, rising to his feet and spreading his wings. “But I have no choice, Sparrow. The stone goes to the Talon, and that’s the end of it. Like I said, I’m only here to do a job and get my reward.”

  “Nox, wait!”

  “You’ve got to learn to listen to your wings instead of your heart, Sparrow.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Shaking his head, he flapped his wings and lifted away. “Forget it. You wouldn’t understand. I’m going to have a look around, make sure no one’s following us.”

  Ellie sighed and let her face fall into her hands. How could she get through to him? Why was he so selfish? She had seen good in him, even selflessness for a moment, but once again he proved that he was nothing more than a thief and a liar who only thought of himself.

  Ellie let out a frustrated groan.

  “What about you?” Ellie called to Gussie, whom she knew was eavesdropping from farther up the bank. The Hawk girl had been staring far too intently at a clump of grass, and Ellie didn’t think it was because she’d developed a sudden interest in botany. “Do you side with him after what happened?”

  Gussie flicked water from her wingtips. “I don’t know what happened. Whether that stone healed Mally or not … it needs further study. Look, I want to know more about it too. Once we turn it over to the Talon, I’m going to ask him if he’ll let me run some tests on it. Maybe I can figure out how it works.”

  “And you?” Ellie turned to Twig, floating on the river.

  He looked at Gussie, then back at Ellie, and shrugged. “Nox is right. You can’t trust grown-ups. You try to do the right thing, they’ll just punish you for it.” He slipped underwater with a burble.

  Gussie gave Ellie a helpless shrug, then lay back and shut her eyes.

  Well, they’d be no help. Which left Ellie only one choice, though it made her sick.

  This felt like another test. Another moment when the eyes of all the Goldwings who’d come before her were watching to see if she’d prove worthy, if she possessed honor, strength, perseverance … the whole of the King’s Ladder. Everything she’d ever believed in and hoped to be seemed balanced on that shiny rock around Nox’s throat.

  If she failed this test, would anything else she did matter? Would she even deserve to fly in the Race of Ascension?

  I wish you the courage to follow your heart, whatever it tells you is right.

  Her heart, unfortunately, was not being shy. It pounded in her ears like a drum giving marching orders. It knew exactly what she needed to do.

  She would have to steal the skystone herself.

  For the next two weeks, Ellie worried and plotted. Plans drew together in her mind, then collapsed, as they drew ever nearer to Thelantis.

  How was she supposed to steal from thieves?

  In the mornings, she woke at dawn and performed the steps of the King’s Ladder, sometimes with Gussie offering advice. She watched Nox closely to see if he ever put down the skystone, but he seemed more paranoid than ever, sleeping with his hand clasped around it.

  With Nox’s wing on the mend, they flew farther each day, camping in caves when they could find them, in enclosed dells when they could not. The weather held and the wind blew from the west, as if to hurry them along. After two weeks of traveling like this, Nox, who had been tracking their course on his map, assured them they’d reach Thelantis in two more days.

  That afternoon, Ellie flew higher than she had in a long time, floating on a warm thermal. An invisible pillar of churning hot air, the thermal lifted her like a dandelion seed. She spread her wings and soared, relishing the heat as it ruffled her feathers.

  The trees below shrank until the forest spread like a bed of moss beneath her. The river twisted southward, calm yellow water and churning white rapids. To the north, the Aeries Mountains were just visible, the peaks hazy blue on the horizon.

  But it was eastward that Ellie looked, and she let out a soft breath as her eyes picked out the glint of white among the green. It took her a moment to understand what she was seeing.

  Thelantis.

  The great capital of the Clandoms sat between two high ridges that rose like buttresses to support the towering height of Mount Garond, the tallest peak in the northern range, named after the first of the Eagle kings. The mountain was also the site of the Race of Ascension, Elle recalled with a tingle of nervousness. In three days, hundreds of young fliers would race to its top in a bid to become Goldwing knights. Even from this distance, the mountain loomed dauntingly high.

  That night, they camped in an abandoned marble quarry that scored the green forest like a scar. There were still signs of the masons who’d once cut and shaped the stone—broken-down wagons, rusty pickaxes and chisels, half-collapsed stick huts. Large cubes of marble were scattered around like the abandoned toys of a giant.

  Ellie and Nox salvaged wooden board
s from the old huts and laid them crosswise between two marble blocks, creating a shelter beneath. Twig foraged for blackberries that grew on the quarry’s edge. Lirri seemed to eat them nearly as quickly as he could pick them.

  Ellie volunteered to gather firewood. She wandered far and long, stalling, trying desperately to think of a plan.

  She had to make her move tonight.

  They were close enough to Thelantis that she could find the rest of the way on her own, and she figured it would be easier to steal the stone and lose the others out here in the wilderness rather than attempt it in the city, where they’d be on their home turf.

  Lost in thought, Ellie reached for a slim log perfect for the fire, only to be stopped by a sharp voice:

  “Don’t touch that!”

  She turned to see Twig flying toward her, his hands stained with blackberry juice. He landed and let out a long breath. “You nearly killed yourself.”

  “Huh?”

  He pointed to something lumpy and orange on the log, which she’d taken for lichen. But when she looked closer, she saw it was a spiky caterpillar.

  “He’s kinda cute,” she said.

  “He’s also kinda extremely venomous,” Twig said. “One touch and his barbs would knock you flat.”

  She cocked her head, peering at him thoughtfully. “How do you know that? Did it … tell you so?” She still wasn’t sure how Twig’s affinity for animals worked.

  “Of course not,” he retorted. “Caterpillars don’t talk. No animals do.”

  “But you understand them so well, I thought …”

  With a long-suffering sigh, Twig lifted a stick and carefully moved the venomous caterpillar to a nearby bush. “I do understand them. But it’s not like they’re talking to me in animal voices. It’s more like … I hear them in here.” He patted his chest. “I just know what they want, in a language that’s not words.”

  “Like reading their minds?” asked Ellie.

  “More like … feeling their moods.”

  After checking the stick for any more deadly surprises, Ellie added it to her bundle. “So that’s a Mockingbird clan thing?”

  His face went flat. “I don’t know. I guess. That’s what people tell me anyway. It’s the Mockingbird clan’s legacy or something.”

  Ellie winced. She should have remembered that he was abandoned as a baby. He probably didn’t know much about his own heritage.

  “Funny,” she murmured. “The Sparrow chief once told me farming was my clan’s legacy. That’s a lot less interesting than yours.” A thought occurred to her then. “Does it work on people? Your … inner ear or whatever. Can you understand people the way you do animals?”

  He stared into the trees, his hand absently stroking Lirri’s head. Ellie wondered if she’d offended him. But then he said softly, “People don’t like that. And neither do I.”

  So it did work on people. She was instantly filled with curiosity. Could he see through lies, pick out individual thoughts, or discern a person’s true intentions?

  That last possibility made her feel queasy. What if he figured out she intended to double-cross them and steal the skystone? Ellie averted her eyes, as if her gaze might give her away. She felt suddenly nervous around Twig, now that she knew there was a deeper, more dangerous side to his odd ability.

  “I shouldn’t have told you that,” Twig said quietly. “You already see me differently, don’t you?”

  Ellie looked up. “What? No! I mean … maybe a little, but not in a bad way.”

  “I can’t read your mind, if that’s what you think. Only your feelings, really. Maybe your desires. But even that weirds people out.”

  She couldn’t help but ask, “So what am I feeling?”

  Twig swallowed, as if uncertain, but then he shrugged and said, “Are you sure?”

  No, thought Ellie. But her curiosity got the better of her, and she nodded.

  “Hold still, then. I haven’t done this in a long time.”

  Then his gaze intensified until he looked like a totally different Twig. Instead of the grubby little boy whose thoughts danced as erratically as a butterfly, he became older and sterner. He tilted his head as if he were listening close, while his gaze didn’t focus on Ellie at all. Instead he stared just over her shoulder, his attention seeming to be more focused on his ears. Ellie froze, holding her breath, and hoped she hadn’t just outed her own treacherous plans in her curiosity.

  Then Twig let out a short breath and his gaze cleared.

  “You’re nervous,” he said. “And guilty about something. And you really, really want to become a Goldwing knight. Like, I already knew you did, but whoa. That’s intense.”

  She held back a gasp, feeling a cold sweat on her neck.

  Twig’s face crumpled when he saw her expression. “Now you think I’m a freak.”

  “No!” said Ellie. “You’re the one who just saw into me. You probably think I’m the freak. No wonder you don’t like people, when you can hear their true feelings.”

  He frowned. “Is that what you think? That I don’t like people?”

  “Well … you do seem to keep away if you can help it.”

  “If I keep my distance,” he said, his tone sharp in a way she’d never heard him speak before, “it’s not because I don’t like people. It’s because they don’t like me.” He shook his bicolored feathers. “First it’s these—my bad-luck wings. But when they learn about my weird ability … well, most folks don’t like being around someone who can see inside them. Animals don’t react that way, though. They don’t care how weird you are. If you feed them and love them, they just love you back. It’s … simpler with them.”

  Ellie’s heart sank. She’d completely misunderstood Twig. All this time, she’d thought he wanted to be left alone. But like her, he really wanted to be accepted. Instead, he’d been abandoned as a baby, then mistrusted and disliked ever since, for things he couldn’t control. It was completely unfair.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “And you don’t have to do your … thing to know that, because it’s true. I like you, Twig. I like you because you’re a little different. It makes you interesting.”

  He blinked, his expression skeptical, but then he gave a cautious smile. “Really?”

  “Really.” Ellie forced a grin, nearly choking on the surge of guilt that clotted her throat. What was she thinking, acting like his friend when she was about to betray him?

  “Twig,” she said, hoping he didn’t hear the tremble in her voice, “what will you do with your share of the payment for the skystone?”

  He looked confused at her sudden change of topic. “I’m going to get on a ship and sail to the southern jungles. They have animals called elephants there that are as big as a house! Can you imagine? And anyway …” His voice lowered. “Someone told me once that two-colored wings are considered lucky in the south. But I mostly want to go for the elephants.”

  She nodded, her stomach wrenching. “That’s a really nice plan. I hope it works out.”

  “Thanks. Well. I should get back to finding blackberries. Lirri ate everything I picked.”

  “Right. Of course. And me too. With the firewood, I mean.”

  As Twig flitted away, Ellie felt her eyes burn with guilty tears. Maybe she’d been wrong about her plan. Maybe she should let Nox and Gussie and Twig collect their rewards for the skystone. She didn’t agree with their methods, but they weren’t bad people.

  And then she saw it: a clump of gumleaf growing around the roots of an oak tree.

  It was so obvious, the plan so suddenly perfect in her mind, that it was like a sign.

  A line from The King’s Ladder sprang into her thoughts.

  When tempted to stray from the honorable path, it is only she who perseveres in the Ladder who proves worthy of knighthood.

  Ellie chewed her lip a moment, stomach churning with guilt, then quickly pulled up the whole plant, discarding the milder leaves in favor of the potent roots. Straining to look casual, she flitted back
into the quarry where the others were waiting for the firewood. The gumroot burned like hot coals in her pocket.

  Nearby, a half-completed sculpture kept vigil over the stone, a man partially emerged from a tall block of marble. He leaned out, one arm outstretched, one wing spread, trapped in an eternal struggle to pull free of the stone. Twig made a crown of leaves, which he placed on the statue’s head, laughing. But Ellie felt sad when she looked at him. She imagined he was reaching for the sculptor who’d never completed his work.

  “Who do you think he’s meant to be?” she asked Gussie.

  The Falcon girl popped a blackberry in her mouth. “Some Eagle king, probably.” She pointed out the royal crest carved on his breastplate: crossed feathers in a crown.

  “Creepy,” said Nox, frowning at the statue.

  “These oats are delicious,” said Twig, talking with his mouth full. “Thanks, Ellie!”

  Ellie gave him a weak smile, anxiously watching as he shoveled more into his mouth. She’d made supper for them, sacrificing the last of her oats and seedbread. Gussie and Nox had already finished their bowls.

  She volunteered for first watch and wasn’t surprised when the others quickly fell asleep. She’d put enough gumroot into the oats to knock out three full-grown men, she reckoned. There should be no reason for any of them to wake before dawn.

  By midnight, the full moon floated above the quarry, and the marble glowed in its light. The Eagle king’s statue seemed to be gazing nobly at the moon.

  Seated on the base of the statue, Ellie wrapped her arms around her legs and watched not the sky, but the three thieves sleeping on the ground. The fire had all but burned out, the embers still pulsing with orange heat.

  She had to make her move. She’d been putting it off for hours, but if she waited much longer, she’d lose her lead … and her nerve.

  Silently, Ellie dropped to the ground. The marble was a gift—it kept her footsteps quiet, so she could move like a shadow. She tried not to look at their faces, innocent in sleep. Even knowing she was doing the right thing, passing the difficult test laid before her, Ellie was sick with guilt.