Fire Lines

by Cara Thurlbourn

  Rumah gives him a withering smile. “You know I can’t tell you, even if I have.”

  “Sorry, it was unfair of me to ask.”

  “You never need to apologise to me. But promise me something, Tsam?”

  “Of course.”

  “Today is the day you graduate from being a Fledgling, to being a Watcher. It’s the most important day of your life. So promise me you’ll enjoy it? Forget all of this, forget why Émi’s here. Just enjoy the fact that she is here. Worry about the rest tomorrow.”

  Tsam nods then bites his lip. “What about Mahg?”

  Rumah’s eyes soften. I shuffle my feet. I feel like I’m intruding on a private moment, something that should be just between the two of them, but Rumah slips one arm around me and one around Tsam, tucking us into the curve of her wings. “Mahg would be a fool to attack us today,” she says. “We’d be expecting him and that’s not what he wants. So you two just go out for a few hours. Explore.” She turns to Tsam. “Introduce Émi to her home.”

  Hearing Rumah call Abilene my ‘home’ feels strange. I don’t live here. Though I suppose, now, I don’t really live anywhere. Unless I’m turned back into a piece of rock. Then I might live at the bottom of the lake.

  We leave Rumah stringing a garland of small white flowers above the door in preparation for tonight, and make our way down to the ground. At the purple flowers, instead of heading to the Academy, we veer east, away from the lake and the bridge.

  The trees around us are buzzing with activity. Above, walkways and front doors are being adorned with lanterns, flags and flowers. Watchers call good morning to one another, saying see you later and we wouldn’t miss it. Friends and neighbours wave down at Tsam, then look a little closer when they see my flame-red hair and my lack of feathers. Tsam notices me fidgeting.

  “They’ll think you’re a visitor from Esyllt,” he reassures me. “Don’t worry.”

  It occurs to me then that I have always looked different from everyone else. Growing up, I was the only person I knew with red hair, freckles and papery skin. So different from my parents that, once again, I can’t believe I never realised they weren’t mine. And, if I look like I come from Esyllt – the City of Sorcerers – is it any wonder the Cadets were suspicious of me?

  “Where are we going?” I ask Tsam, pulling back from my remembering.

  “You’ll see when we get there.” He winks. Charming.

  We’ve been walking for a little over two hours when we leave the treehouses behind and the forest envelops us in a cocoon of peacefulness. It is quieter here, but not dark and clammy like the Alder Woods. There is room to move freely between the trees, with dappled sunlight and luscious leafy shrubs.

  Eventually, we stop in front of a tree that is almost double the size of the others. Its bark is closer in colour to the silvery sheen of the bamboo at the forest’s edges. “This is my favourite spot,” says Tsam, standing behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. “Ready?”

  “Yes,” I reply, letting myself lean back against his chest as he beats his wings and propels us up into the air.

  Tsam weaves us through the tree’s thick upper branches. Up and up, until we emerge above the canopy. We land on a branch that is large enough and flat enough to hold us. Then we sit, side by side. Before us, the First City, Abilene, which for so long I believed was gone, stretches as far as I can see. Behind, mere whispers in the distance, the Tsamur Mountains quiver in the sun.

  For a while, neither of us speaks. Then Tsam points north, towards Nhatu. “When I first came back – when you thought I was in the Gold Quarter – I used to come up here all the time and wonder what you were doing, how you were.” He looks at me, then back into the distance. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when your father was sent away.”

  “You couldn’t have done anything even if you were.”

  “I should have written. Especially when—”

  I shake my head. “You know, they never told us what happened to him. They just sent a letter. Three lines: To whom it may concern. Theiss Fae: deceased. Cause of death: unknown.”

  “That was all?”

  “That was all.”

  “Do you know what they did with his body?”

  I shudder, and swallow hard. “People who die in the labour camps are flushed away,” I say. “Under the wall, out into the ocean.”

  Tsam’s wings droop. He rakes his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, Ém. At least with my mother, we were able to say goodbye.”

  His mother. I brace myself to ask. “Tsam, your mother. She died in the attack on the bridge?”

  Tsam nods, solemnly. “She was badly injured, and died a few days later.”

  “What was her name?”

  Tsam frowns a little, then he smiles. “Inta, she was called Inta.”

  I don’t know how to say what I need to say.

  “What is it?” Tsam asks. “What’s wrong?”

  “I think I saw her. In the vision they showed me.”

  Tsam shimmies around so he’s facing me. “How?”

  “She was on the bridge when Mahg’s wings started to grow.” I hesitate, then push on. “I think she was his friend.”

  Tsam shakes his head, gazing out over the lake. Finally, he looks back at me. “Are you sure?”

  I nod.

  “And did you see her when the explosion happened?”

  “No,” I assure him. I did not see that.

  Tsam exhales deeply, then forces a smile. “Who’d have thought it, hey? When we were playing make-believe behind the cafe. Climbing trees in the field. That this is where we’d end up.”

  I shift a little closer to him. Tsam moves his wing so it is almost touching my shoulder. I look up at him. “Did you always know who you were? Who I was?”

  I think he’s going to look away, but he doesn’t. His eyes continue to meet mine, pure and blue and silver. “Yes.”

  “Always?”

  He nods. He’s closer now. Or, at least, he feels closer. His feathers flutter in the breeze. He tucks a stray curl behind my ear and his hand lingers by my cheek.

  Then something that sounds like a foghorn blasts through the forest. It trumpets a brief, jolting melody and Tsam quickly looks up at the sky. “We should go. The Fledgling Ceremony begins at sunset.”

  I want to tell him to wait, make him slow down, but he has hold of me and we’re in the air before I know it. The moment is gone.

  Fourteen

  Tsam offers to fly me back, but I tell him to conserve his energy for the Ceremony, so when we return we are very close to being late. I expect Rumah to be pacing back and forth, wringing her hands the way my mother might have, but she greets us with a smile full of warmth and places her hands on my cheeks.

  “There you are,” she says, giving me a peck on the forehead. “Tsam, go and change. Émi, I’ve left a tunic on your bed for you.”

  I go to my room, and struggle with the tunic for at least ten minutes before Rumah comes to help me. It is shaped like a normal piece of clothing all the way up to my waist, but then it becomes nothing but two wide strips of fabric. I assume I’m supposed to wind them around myself. But I have no idea how. Rumah laughs gently at the confusion on my face and shows me how to wrap them – around my abdomen, criss-crossed over my chest, small gap at the shoulder, then down and around my arms. When she has finished, she says, “There…” and stands aside so I can see myself.

  I don’t look like me. My skin has lost its sickly grey pallor and the freckles on the bridge of my nose seem more prominent than before. The dark blue of the tunic makes my hair seem redder, too. Hair which is still piled in a nest-like tangle at the back of my neck.

  When Rumah leaves to finish getting ready, I reach back and pull the pins loose, allowing the curls to tumble down over my shoulders. I give them a little shake and they settle into place. The necklace Nor gave me sits around my neck, the charm resting against my collarbone. I touch the wings, and the stone in between, and whisper, “I
haven’t forgotten.” Then, I inhale deeply and give my shoulders a wiggle to release the tension. I’m ready. Even though I don’t quite know what I’m ready for.

  Tsam and Rumah are waiting for me on the boardwalk, just outside the front door. They turn when they hear me walking towards them. Tsam smiles, steps forwards and knocks his head on one of the lanterns Rumah has strung above the door. His ears redden first, and then his cheeks. “You look…” He pauses and loses his chance to finish because Rumah interrupts.

  “You look beautiful, Émi.”

  I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “Thank you.”

  The three of us head to the edge of the forest, where Garrett is waiting for us. “Tsam!” he calls. “Ready?”

  Tsam tells me he’ll see me later, then jumps into the air, spreads his wings and swoops out of sight.

  When Rumah and I exit the trees, my breath catches in my chest and my feet take a few seconds to catch up with the rest of my body. As far as I can see, swathes of Watchers are making their way towards the bridge. The Academy is resplendent in the glow of the fading sun and a rhythmic drumming drifts up from somewhere near the lake.

  On the bridge, with our bodies crammed together, the drumming and the memory of Mahg’s attack makes my heart jitter uneasily in my ribcage. Rumah and I take a spot near the steps that lead down to the beach. Below, the bonfire I saw in my vision is being lit. Rumah points in the direction of the Academy. “When the sun reaches the spot just above the western tower, the Ceremony will start. All the Fledglings have to perform. It’s a group display but they’re judged individually too.”

  “Like in an exam?” I ask.

  Rumah hums. “In a way. Their rankings are unlikely to change at this stage, but it’s possible. If they really impress the Elders, they can move up. Or, if they make a horrible mistake they might find they graduate lower in the class than expected. But Tsam will be just fine.” Rumah smiles, proudly. “That boy hasn’t made a mistake since the second he first took to the skies.” Then, the smile dips a little and she adds, “I only wish his parents were here to see it.”

  When the drumming stops, everyone becomes still. Even the trees seem to be waiting. The sun is almost in line with the western tower. Rumah points at the cliffs on the opposite side of the lake, where the Elders of Abilene stand in flowing white robes, with Hitra at their centre. Hitra waves towards the bridge. In one seamless motion, every single Watcher lowers their gaze to the ground. I hastily follow suit, out of sync and hoping no one notices. When I look back up, the sun is in position. Rumah reaches for my hand and squeezes, her eyes darting backwards and forwards.

  “There, look…” she whispers.

  Winged figures have appeared at each of the windows on the Academy’s top floor. Then there are more, on the roof and on the rounded spires of the two sparkling towers. They are utterly motionless, their wings stretched out, their feathers glistening brilliant and white against the pink sunset. The drummer restarts his drumming. The sound is low and rumbling, barely audible but enough to make my skin vibrate.

  Suddenly, the Fledgling on top of the eastern tower falls, toppling like a domino over the edge, straight as a board, plummeting parallel with the waterfall. The figure falls faster and faster and the people on the bridge gasp. Then another Fledgling tips over and begins to fall, and soon they are all falling. Straight down, as if they are made of stone.

  The audience holds its breath but when it looks as though the first Fledgling is about to plunge into the water, he suddenly rights himself, just a hand’s breadth above its surface, wings beating as he flies straight towards us. Then I realise. That first Fledgling? It’s Tsam. He is flying the same way he did when we jumped over the wall. Rumah knows it too and she stands beside me, fizzing with pride.

  Tsam keeps flying towards us, so close to the surface of the lake that the power of his wings causes the water to spray out. As each Fledgling reaches the bottom of the waterfall, they turn and fly in the same direction. Some are closer to the water than others, some faster, some slower. Alyssa, who left her perch after Tsam, has managed to level herself with him and Garrett isn’t far behind them.

  The crowd turns, expecting the frontrunners to emerge the other side of the bridge.

  But they don’t.

  A few moments pass and then, as the last Fledgling flies beneath us, the entire group bursts out, as one, and sweeps upwards in an arc that bends over the bridge and up into the sky. Above our heads, they gather and position themselves into the formation of a giant bird.

  The crowd on the bridge gasps and some of the younger ones give jubilant cries. Somehow, the Fledglings coordinate their bird to flap its wings and open its beak. The drummer is keeping time with their movements, quickening and slowing his pace.

  Alyssa is the first to break away from the group. When she does, the others move to fill her spot and quicken, as though they are chasing her. They climb up and up into the pink, cloudless sky. Alyssa and the giant bird begin a delicate dance in which she somersaults, weaves and dips as it pursues her. Seamlessly, she swaps places with Tsam and he performs his own version of the flying dance. Then, the Fledglings become two birds instead of one, and Garrett takes his turn.

  Two birds become three, then one again, and then they are a tree, swaying in the wind while a Fledgling with long white hair flies as though she is a child swinging from its branches. And all the time, the drum beats on.

  When each Fledgling has had their turn, the sun is a mere whisper and the sky has darkened. The girl with the long white hair breaks away from the group and swoops along the edge of the lake. As she does, multi-coloured lanterns spring into life. She rejoins the others, who are hovering in a line. They beat their wings slowly and delicately as though they are treading water. When the line is complete, they bow. The crowd on the bridge erupts into the loudest cheers I have ever heard.

  Rumah is clapping, bouncing up and down and calling Tsam’s name. Beside us, a man wipes a tear from his cheek. From their vantage point on top of the cliffs, the Elders are applauding too. Then, Sayah steps forwards and flies down to hover in front of the line of Fledglings.

  “I’m going to call you each by name,” she sings out, “with the highest ranking students first. Before I do, I will say that you are an outstanding bunch of students and it has been my pleasure to see you grow and to announce that today – you become Watchers of the Fire Stone!”

  The crowd cheers and the drummer plays a drum roll.

  “The first name I am calling is… Tsam Djaran!”

  Tsam moves forward, bows and then flies down to the beach where he stands with his hands behind his back, clearly struggling not smile or to jig up and down. Rumah looks like she’s going to jump out of her own skin, or perhaps hurtle over the bridge so that she can smother her nephew with kisses.

  Alyssa takes second place, then Garrett and then the girl with white hair. I can’t see Tsam’s face properly, he’s too far away, but I know he is happy. I can feel it. And I am too. When the last name is called, the applause slows, and everyone looks back towards the cliffs. Sayah rejoins the Elders and Hitra moves to the front of the group.

  “Thank you,” she says, “for, I think you’ll all agree, one of the most creative and adventurous displays we have seen at a Fledgling Ceremony!”

  Everyone cheers.

  Hitra waits for us to quiet before she continues. “Tonight is a night for laughter and celebration, a night for family and friends. A truly wonderful night. But it has not always been so.” Her tone becomes more solemn. Rumah sighs. The man who wiped away the tear stands straighter and his feathers twitch.

  “I shan’t remind you of the detail of that Ceremony, nearly seventeen years ago. I know it is etched in your minds, as it is in mine.”

  Rumah squeezes my hand.

  “But I do have to remind you that, while we celebrate, Mahg’s evil forces are getting stronger.” Hitra’s voice grows louder. “Mahg is still determined to take control of the Fire Sto
ne. More now than ever before. And he will do anything to have it all in his possession. But,” her voice lifts, “do not fear! There are plans in motion to protect you all and to save The Four Cities from his wicked ways.”

  Hitra is staring at me. I can feel it. I shuffle sideways, so that I’m hidden behind Rumah. “Watchers of Abilene, trust us. Stay vigilant. Do as we say, and we will ensure you are safe. When the time is right, we will share our plans with you all. But for now – enjoy the festivities!”

  As Hitra finishes her speech, the drumming becomes more melodic and is joined by a cohort of flutes and pipes. The crowd of Watchers from the bridge begins to flow down to the beach and Rumah and I follow them. By the water’s edge, the newly anointed Watchers have moved from a line into a huddle, where they are congratulating each other and chattering excitedly. I catch a couple of them glancing over at me. I’m desperate to talk to Tsam, but I can’t see him.

  Rumah tells me she’s going to speak with a friend, and I’m not sure what to do. I feel like everyone is looking in my direction. Noticing that I don’t fit. My skin tingles and I tell it not to. Not now. No sparks tonight. Finally, I see Tsam. He emerges from the crowd with a grin that stretches from ear to ear. He’s wearing the same shade of blue as me, but his robes have delicate embroidery on their cuffs and collar. He jogs towards me, doing a half-jump half-flutter to speed himself up.

  “Did you see?” he asks, sounding just like he did when we were young and he’d done a handstand he was proud of.

  “Of course,” I reply, hugging him awkwardly. “You were incredible.”

  Alyssa and Garrett arrive by our side, buoyed up with pride, cheeks flushed with adrenaline. Behind us, along the underside of the cliffs, a collection of market stalls have sprung up. Garrett drags us to one that serves tiny chunks of fish, fried and tossed in something that looks like salt but tastes a thousand times better.