by Fran Wilde
“I dreamed about exploring the city, you know. About flying beyond the towers.” I hissed as she resecured my bandage. “I wanted to know more.”
“Dream smaller next time,” Wik said.
Kirit laughed. “Your curiosity has always been endless trouble, Nat.” Her teasing expression sobered. “Hold still if you want to be able to climb the ridge and get back to your family.”
I couldn’t let myself hope for that. Not yet.
As Kirit worked, I stared at the city’s flank. It had curled one foreleg over its shoulder. Claws extended like sideways towers across its skin. On one yellowed ridge, three dark figures moved. “Look!”
“Birds,” Kirit said.
“I don’t think so.” The creatures didn’t move like birds. I squinted, rubbed my eyes and looked again. Whatever it was walked in the opposite direction from the towers, away from the city. But the dark forms tugged at the edge of my vision.
“Let’s take a look?” There was a ridge just below that would give us a better view.
A dust-filled crease, muddy from the rain, offered an easy, if twisting, path down.
Wik frowned. “We can’t waste time here. The city needs us, and we have a long way to go.”
“The sooner we get back up, the sooner we know Elna is all right,” Kirit agreed. A flicker of pain crossed her face. “And everyone else.” She turned on the ball of her foot.
I knew they were right. More than anything, I wanted to see my family safe, and my city whole again. But when I made to follow Kirit towards the wall, I couldn’t shake the vision of the dark figures walking away. Wik looked back too, now.
“Just a moment, to be sure,” I said. Wik finally agreed with a nod. Kirit followed us, grumbling, looking back over her shoulder towards the bone ridge.
Around a bend in the city’s skin, we found the remains of two blackwings. One had died naturally, if a fall was natural. The other had a deep cut across her throat.
“Someone else is alive here,” Wik said. “Or was.” He went through their robes and took their weapons. Kirit shouldered a water sack. I took their packs and another mostly whole wingset. Pale and shaken, we ate their food: a gryphon one had shot down before she died. We drank their water.
Then we moved again, faster, towards where we’d last seen the shadow-figures. Overhead, a bone eater flapped its giant wings and circled away. Kirit shivered.
“My theory,” Kirit said as she watched the bird’s shadow grow smaller on the ground, “is that, once we find out who is out there, if we get up high enough, we’ll be able to launch ourselves into a decent gust. But we’ll need to be very high. Possibly as high as the clouds.” She was still thinking of the climb, barely tolerating the ground.
We all looked back towards the city, tilting our heads to see the bone wall silhouetted against the thick clouds.
When we came out of the crease, we could see the city’s leg much more clearly. The dark figures we’d watched before had moved, but not far. I shaded my eyes against the sunlight emerging from the other side of the clouds.
I could make out details on the distant figures now. Two wore wings, but they were half furled and cockeyed. One figure limped and carried something in their arms. The other figure walked beside them. Then sun hit them all just right, and I caught a glimpse of white wings in the arms of the limping figure, seemingly immaculate against the city’s skin.
“Ciel,” I breathed. She lived. But someone was carrying the fledge away, towards the edge of the city and the dusty expanse beyond.
“We’re going after her. Now,” I said. This time, Wik and Kirit matched my pace without argument. The climb had to wait.
* * *
In the gaining light, we left the shelter of the crease and moved as quickly as we could towards the city’s shoulder. Before, when the sun had passed above the cloud, we’d closed some of the distance. Now we could see the black wings on the person carrying Ciel and the robes of their companion. The heat slowed us all. Those we pursued stumbled down the city’s right shoulder, stopping to rest more often than we did.
We didn’t stop for anything. Even when it began to rain momentarily as the sun appeared fully beneath the cloudline again, we kept going. An arc of color painted across the sky, something that would have captured our attention a week ago. Now we walked until it disappeared.
The city’s dust became muddy and rain pooled in a dimple on the city’s shoulder. The water smelled sour but tasted fine when Wik sipped it. We filled our water sacks. We walked on. The sun slipped lower, the rain stopped and the city began to steam. The stench grew. We kept going.
Ciel and those who carried her reached the bent elbow of the city. When they set her down on the ground, we saw her struggle and roll, her feet and hands bound.
“We’re coming, Ciel,” Kirit said.
I’d never wished for wings and a fast breeze more. My ankles creaked, and my legs felt every step. And we were slow, painfully so. But we were gaining on Ciel’s captor. We could see the way they bent and spoke to the fledge now, while Ciel knelt, sick, on the ground. When the sun struck the figure, the few beads left in their dark hair glittered. Hiroli. She waved her hands in the air over her head, yelling.
Ciel collapsed, and Hiroli grabbed her by the arm and dragged her.
The blackwing with them followed, limping.
Wik, Kirit, and I began to run, first in the heat and then in the cool of the next sunset, this one truly on the horizon. While we ran, our breath coming jagged, our feet bruised, the horizon changed color: purples, oranges, yellows. Eventually it faded, and we ran first through the dark, then by moonlight.
I could hear Wik’s breathing, his dry cough getting worse. Kirit wheezed. I heard a rattle in my chest too. “We can’t keep this up.” I’d run in the tiers sometimes, and on the meadow, but never this far.
“We have to,” Kirit said, each word costing her breath. “We can’t lose Ciel.”
No. We couldn’t lose her again. She would say she was brave, that she could fight. But she needed us.
“She’s Spire-born; she was raised to fight,” Wik said. He’d been the one who wanted her to hide when Dix came, wanting her to be a child a little longer. Now he held on to a different kind of hope.
“We won’t lose her,” I said.
By the time the sun rose again after the long night, and the city began to heat up, we were stumbling. Kirit’s limp had become a drag. We could barely keep our heads up. Red sky and gold rays edged the city, slowly illuminating the claw and leg. The full stretch of gray, dust-speckled skin glowed in the sun, and nowhere did we see them now. Hiroli, Ciel, and the blackwings had disappeared in the night.
We searched the horizon. Nothing. Wik knelt, while Kirit lay on her back, staring at the clouds above. I tried to sit, but nearly toppled to my side. I braced myself on my arm while my leg muscles twitched from exertion.
Wik shared out the rest of the blackwing’s food and water from his carry-sack. “We need to eat. And find more water. We’ll die at this pace.” We huddled together as best we could, in the shadow of the bend in the city’s leg.
When the sun finally rose above the clouds, we began to walk again in the direction we thought they’d gone, but when it passed again below the cloudline and heated the ground, Kirit sat down, dizzy. Though Wik convinced her to drink, she could go no farther that day.
I walked a short distance away to relieve myself, then returned as the shadows grew longer. Wik handed me the water sack and said, “I’ll take first watch.” I drank the last sips of water and settled down to sleep and dreamed of falling, until the shouting woke me.
Kirit and Wik stood before our resting place, throwing trash at a dark-winged bone eater seemingly the size of the city’s biggest claw. The creature bore down on them, its serrated beak clacking. Sunrise’s orange glow silhouetted the bird’s enormous wings and head.
Struggling to my feet, I raised my voice to join theirs. Then I charged at it, every muscle screaming pa
in. The bird startled as if nothing had ever run at it before. Bending its knees, it pushed its body into the sky as the sun began to set. We watched the bone eater disappear.
In the dimming light, the horizon looked flat and bleak. Far away, ripples that might be water, or might be heat, formed and disappeared, a hallucination. I saw no lights glinting, no smoke climbing into the sky. Wherever our ancestors had come from, they hadn’t left anyone behind to greet us, or to help us.
A small mote appeared in the air, descending, its path erratic. It looked like one of the giant bugs we’d seen swooping the midden heaps around the city, but it was too high for that. Slowly it drew closer and resolved into a whipperling, trying to fly straight with a damaged wing, feathers askew. It spiraled to the ground just over the ridge. I hurried after it, hoping.
When I reached the bird, it lay on the ground, breast pulsing, trying to right itself, but its wing would no longer move. “Maalik?” I lifted his body gently in both hands. Weakly, he nipped at my finger.
Footsteps sounded behind me; a shadow covered my shoulder. “Look at his leg,” Wik said.
Tucked beneath Maalik’s body, a silk cord. Two cracked and battered bone chips.
“How?” I looked up into the sky.
Wik followed my gaze. “If Aliati or Beliak sent Maalik once the meadow collapsed, he might have tried to follow us. Gotten caught in the fall?”
Maybe. I lifted the message chip. Beliak’s sigil was cut into one side. My hand shook as I flipped the message over. “We are well. Guards are handled.”
That was all. A signal smuggled into the air. I stroked the bird’s head and cupped my hand to hold water that Wik poured. Maalik dipped his beak in, head hanging over my palm. “He’s exhausted.”
“He’s a very lucky bird. He must have followed us the whole way to Mondarath.”
I tucked Maalik into my robe. “If he recovers, perhaps he can find his way back again.”
“Perhaps,” Wik said. He helped me tie the message chips to my wrist. I ran my thumb across the carved letters, then returned my attention to the horizon.
Even at day’s end, the city’s skin steamed this close to the ground. We walked down the city’s leg, hoping to find another glimpse of Hiroli and Ciel.
As we’d scrambled across the landscape, our footwraps had shredded on the city’s tough skin. Our feet were blistered, our calves ached. My hair stuck damply to my neck and face, with no wind to dry my sweat.
I caught myself rubbing a patch in my robe, sliding my thumb over the quilting. Elna’s stitches. The fabric grew shiny from contact with my skin.
Wik paced, head down, a frown deepening the lines on his face.
Kirit stared down the distance, daring the horizon to give up.
The air finally cooled that night as the moon rose. In the deep shadows and etched silver light, we found Dix. She hung from a bone spur jutting from the city’s elbow, one wingstrap caught. The skin of her face had been scraped raw in her fall, and her feet were swollen.
My breath caught. I raised my hand to block the moonlight so I could look up at her. Wik and I scaled the bone spur. We cut her wingstraps and lowered her down. She did not wake. Her chest barely rose and when it did it made an ugly rattle. Around where she’d fallen, three of the brass plates lay, their etched faces reflecting the moon. We gathered them up and put them in Wik’s satchel.
We left Dix in the shade of the bone spur to be forgotten, and we kept walking.
Staring towards the end of the city’s leg, Wik frowned. “We could walk this way for days and nights and not find them. At some point, we need to think about saving ourselves. Some point very soon.”
Kirit looked at him, angry. “We’re not leaving her down here.”
“We’ll find her,” I agreed, determined. I didn’t want to linger on the ground any more than Wik did. I knew that what he was thinking was practical. But I wouldn’t turn my back on Ciel a second time. Not until I was sure there was nothing more I could do.
Late that night, just before the next moonset, we passed above a cesspool that had collected beside the city’s leg. Not even the bone eaters would go near the foul liquid seeping from the city’s side.
“Lucky we didn’t land in that,” Wik said. We’d walked for half a night without saying anything between us. Since just after we’d found Dix. Now he coughed, making a face at the stench. Covered his mouth and didn’t speak again until we were past the cesspool.
The city hadn’t moved for a very long time. A river of filth trailed away from its body, towards a rippling blue haze in the distance. The stench was beyond reckoning. No one spoke, to avoid having to open their mouths.
Beyond the worst of the smell, we found the last guard who’d been traveling with Hiroli. His weapons were gone, and his wings. If he’d carried food and water, there was none with his body now.
“She’s growing desperate,” Kirit said.
We all knew what Hiroli was willing to do to survive. We scanned the horizon for Ciel. Hoping to find her alive. Finally, Wik pointed over the hillside, then began moving. We followed close on his heels.
“Light,” he shouted. “A campfire.”
35
HORIZON
The fire Wik saw was a tiny flicker in the dark expanse of the city’s leg. They’d traveled closer to us than before, but much lower down the city’s side. Close to the ground.
“It will be a trick to get back up that ridge,” Wik whispered. His voice was hoarse with exhaustion.
Behind us, Kirit stumbled on the city’s uneven surface. We were headed now towards the expanse of ground between our city and the ones farther away. She didn’t like it. Neither did I.
But Hiroli was leaving the city and taking Ciel with her, and none of us would leave Ciel behind.
“From the look of things, Hiroli’s had to backtrack around a flight of bone eaters,” Wik said. “Her new path takes her near the city’s head. She’s slowing.”
We picked up the pace, moving through the dark, using our bone hooks and wing battens to feel our way. Slowly, we gained on them, dreading what we’d find when we got there.
* * *
Hiroli’s voice rose as she pulled Ciel farther down the ridge. The fledge stumbled, but managed to stay on her feet in the orange light of sunrise. They slid into the deep valley nearest the city’s head. The bonefall clattered as they kicked pieces of bone loose.
A bone eater flew from the pit, alarmed, a femur in its beak. It flapped away noisily.
“Ciel!” I chased them down, readied the bow we’d taken off the blackwings, ignoring the pain. Wik and Kirit slid beside me. We ran across the city’s skin, stumbling on rough patches. I tripped and jarred my arm. Gasped, but kept going. Feet pounded behind me as Wik and Kirit caught up with me.
Below, Hiroli waited for us.
“Stop where you are.” I drew the bowstring awkwardly with my good hand. Tried to hold the weapon steady.
Hiroli looked at me and laughed. “Nat Brokenarm now. Mighty Hunter.” Her voice cracked. “We’re going to find a new city,” she yelled, pointing at the horizon. “Just as our ancestors did.” Dried spit crusted the corners of her mouth.
“That’s skytouched,” Kirit said. “We need to go up, not away.”
Hiroli held Ciel by the robe at arms’ length. “You’ve seen the magnificent creatures out there. We could climb one that’s not half dead and begin again. Those above could join us, and survive.”
“You want to climb another city?” Kirit said, trying to comprehend, while Wik slowly edged towards Hiroli in the shadows of the ridge. “What about the towers? What about Naza?”
Hiroli pointed at the horizon, where the cities paced. Stars pricked the dark sky behind them. “Look at them! Much more potential than this.” She tapped the thick skin with her silk-wrapped foot.
Ciel raised her head. Her eyes were glazed with thirst and hunger. Hiroli’s own lips were split and pale. They were out of water.
“Come with us,
then, and warn those above us.” I kept my voice calm, trying to give Wik an angle to get closer to her. There was time to warn the towers, I realized, as long as the bone eaters kept feeding the city. But I vowed Hiroli would not be with us when we did.
For now, I had to keep talking. To hold her attention. “We have water. We’ll eat. Then we’ll all go up together. You’ll need more people than just you and Ciel to go. You’ll starve.”
Wik had slowly edged to Hiroli’s right, but couldn’t get any closer. Ciel’s feet kicked off the ground as Hiroli lifted her.
“You are a terrible liar, Councilor.” She shook Ciel. “You won’t take me with you. You want to be the one to lead.” She began to drag Ciel towards the ground again, walking backwards. “I will lead us to the new city. I’ll make the Laws. We’ll let people come who can follow our Laws.” She murmured to herself, “I’ll lead.”
“Come back, Hiroli,” Wik said, coaxing. “Or leave Ciel with us. Then you can do whatever you want.”
Hiroli didn’t see the next drop, beside the city’s mouth. She nearly lost her footing. At the last minute, she stepped forward, pushing Ciel before her.
Ciel stumbled. Hiroli growled and raised her hand as if to slap the fledge, then grabbed Ciel’s hair and twisted it in her fist. “We’ll have order in the new city.” Her voice was eerily calm now. Kirit was right. Skytouched. Cloudtouched. Groundtouched.
“Stop this!” I shouted, loud enough to halt Hiroli in her tracks. She looked at me, as if just seeing me again. Smiled. “Councilor. You could join me. You and Wik.”
I shook my head slowly. “Never. We’ll go back up into the clouds, and rise above them again.”
Her face darkened. “Dissent,” she muttered. As she focused on me, Kirit tried to flank her other side, but when she and Wik got too close, the former blackwing jerked at Ciel’s hair again. Ciel grabbed at Hiroli’s wrists, scratching the skin hard enough to break it, but did not fight further when Hiroli shook her again. She slumped, exhausted.
Hiroli held her free hand out, motioning to the edge. “Don’t make me throw the fledge down!”
In the great expanse behind Hiroli, a crack opened to a narrow slit of yellow and black, surrounded by white sclera and thick skin. Hiroli did not see it because her back was to the eye, but Ciel did. She froze. Hiroli jerked her arm.
