Sorrow's Flight

by Helen Allan

  Sorrow, feeling the warmth emanate from him, burrowed closer against his skin and pressed her face into him. The feathers were soft, downy, and she could hear his hearts beating loudly. She closed her eyes and tried to regulate her shallow, harsh breathing, as the enclosed space inside his wings warmed the air, and her lungs began to hurt less. Somehow, she wasn’t sure how, his wings reminded her of the feeling when she was little when she would fall asleep on the couch, and her mother would carry her to bed. Safe, warm, secure; without realising she was doing it, she fell asleep.

  Waking to the sound of running water, Sorrow opened her eyes and frowned, not remembering where she was, but realising she was desperate to empty her bladder.

  Looking up she saw a curved timber roof and, turning her head, smooth timber, windowless walls. The realisation hit her that she was inside a tree. Pushing off a mountain of light-coloured woollen blankets, she sat up and pressed her hands to her head, groaning. She had a splitting headache.

  ‘No wonder! I almost died from altitude sickness and freezing to death.’

  Squeezing her head, she twisted her neck left and right, rolled it round and round, and felt an easing of the pressure behind her eyes. Taking in her surroundings further she saw she was in a small, rounded room, about four metres by four metres. Not unlike her room in the Landfirst township, it was rudimentarily decorated, featuring a table with a small lantern just shedding enough light to vaguely illuminate the room, two benches, the wide bed she was sitting on, and what looked to be a washing area on the far side. She could see a small stream of water running into a low, timber shelf, and out again in a never-ending trickle – the source of the sound that had woken her. Surmising the Winged must be even more technologically backward than their ground-dwelling relatives, given they didn’t even have taps and running water, she rose on stiff legs. She knew there was no point trying the door; it would be locked.

  Heading towards the source of the water she saw a timber bucket near the door and, beyond caring that she would be caught, determined to use it as a toilet. Swaying as she stood, she remained still for a second, righting herself, before staggering to the empty bucket and squatting. She sighed in relief when she had finished, sitting quietly for a second, head in hands as she considered what her next move might be. She was still a naked prisoner, so she must have passed out when they landed, that much was obvious.

  ‘But how to escape?’

  Noting a small, green hand-towel near the washing area, she scooped up some water and washed quickly all over, before drying herself with the towel as best she could. She instantly felt better after the cool splash down and retraced her steps towards the bed, seeing what she had not noticed earlier – a short, cream-coloured dress hanging over one of the benches. The fabric was light, as the towel and blankets were, made from a soft kind of wool, although it didn’t have the lanolin smell of wool on Earth. In fact, it smelled faintly of baby powder, or something of that nature, and when she shook it out, a light powder filled the air, making her sneeze. Holding the dress up to the light she turned it over twice, surmising that it was backless in order to enable the wearer to use their wings. It was short, coming in just above the knee, and featured a high neckline and a row of small, delicate fabric buttons running down one side, more for show than use, because the dress could easily be pulled over her head. Donning it and cinching the cream belt tight, she immediately felt less vulnerable.

  ‘But no knickers,’ she grimaced, ‘so I won’t be bending over any time soon.’

  She was about to walk towards the door to give it a try, just for the hell of it, when there was a short, sharp rap on the timber and it opened a crack, allowing a familiar face to peek in.

  “Awake, little pink worm?”

  “I’m awake,” she said, stepping back from the door and staring, hands on hips at her captor, “and I’m not a worm.”

  “It is a term of endearment,” he laughed, stepping into the room, “I’ve never seen anyone so pink and feather-free, so smooth,” as he said the last word he sighed, his eyes roaming her body.

  “Well, that will be the last time you see me naked, so I suggest you drop the sly grin,” Sorrow spat, attempting to walk past him and out the door, “and my name is Sorrow.”

  “Uh uh,” he said, flicking the door shut with his foot, and shaking his head at her attempt, “not so fast little, uh, what did you say you were?”

  “I didn’t,” she sighed, turning to walk back towards the table and pulling out a bench. Her knees still felt weak and her head slightly fuzzy, she needed to sit. “I told you my name. But now that you ask, I am a Human.”

  “No,” he said gently, shaking his head and pulling up a seat opposite her, “you are not.”

  She frowned.

  “Alright, I’m an Earthborn, half God, half Human, but for all intents and purposes, I’m Human.”

  “Let’s set that aside for a minute,” he said, smiling, “my name is Raphael by the way and thank you for asking. What are you doing on Avalona?”

  Sorrow considered him as she decided what she would say. Standing before her he was way taller than she had first thought, at least a head and shoulders taller than her, and even from where she was sitting, she could smell the same faint powdery smell the dress had held. His body, while not covered as thickly in feathers as a bird would be, was still coated in light feathers, rather like a human’s body would be in hair. He wore only a tight pair of tan-coloured leather pants that came down to just above his knee, and walked barefoot; his toes taloned, but his hands human-like. With his wings folded down at his back, he looked like a feathery Earthborn, a very handsome feathery Earthborn. Sorrow brushed aside the remembrance of how soft his feathers had been against her cold skin; how muscular and strong his upper body was. ‘Get a grip; you are his prisoner.’

  “I jumped through accidently,” she said, shaking her head at her thoughts and deciding honesty would be the best policy, “I was hurt, we had been attacked by Gharial, lizard-like aliens sent by Seth to destroy all half-Gods – my friend and I needed to escape, and this was the nearest portal – I did not come here by design.”

  “Indeed,” he nodded, “because no one comes here by design – unless they wish to die.”

  Sorrow frowned.

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “No,” he shrugged, smirking, “I’m merely stating a fact. All those who come through the portal succumb eventually to the miasma – it’s a fact, not a threat. It is the same reason none are permitted to leave this planet – for fear we might spread our deadly heritage throughout the universe.”

  “What is this miasma?” Sorrow frowned, “I’ve heard the Gods believe it lies in the ground, hence living in the sky – the Chosen say they are immune, but that it causes impotence and is prevalent wherever there are trees. I’ve been here five months, as has my human companion, and we haven’t caught it. I’d like to know anything you can tell me about it.”

  He shrugged.

  “It is a disease of ground-dwellers, that much is known. But who gets it, how and why, we do not know, nor really care. The Winged and the Angels are untouched by it, everyone else sooner or later succumbs.”

  “Really?” Sorrow frowned, “and have you also been untouched by the Gharial?”

  He shrugged and leaned back in his chair, narrowing his eyes at her.

  “Are you asking me to reveal the defences of my people?”

  “No,” Sorrow said, meeting his intense gaze, “I’m asking if you are pacifists like the Chosen?”

  “No,” he said, rising, “we are definitely not that, Sorrow.”

  “Good,” she said, also rising, “because more are coming, I’m sure of it, many, many more. The Chosen wouldn’t heed my warnings; I couldn’t get to the Gods to tell them, perhaps your leaders will listen?”

  “Leaders?” he snorted, “you mean the government, surely?”

  “You have a government?”

  “Sorrow, you have seen a small part o
f our planet, and one people, of the rest you know nothing. We, on the other hand, know much, but seek to know more about those who invade our planet. Consequently, I was tasked to capture one of the newly arrived planetary interlopers,” he waved his hand in her direction, “and find out what you know about what is occurring outside our planet; our efforts to question the Gharial have proven fruitless.”

  “Tasked by your government to capture me?”

  “Of sorts.”

  Sorrow noted he looked slightly evasive as he answered her.

  “Were you tasked specifically to get me?”

  “No,” he smiled, “I initially planned to take your partner, but when you took off your suit,” he shook his head, “how could any male resist?”

  “How indeed,” she rolled her eyes, “but you are in luck, I can tell what is happening outside your planet. War is coming to the twelve planets linked by the time portals – war and destruction. A god called Seth is sending armies to kill all those beings who have crossed their genetics with his kind. He sees the dilution of the Gods’ blood as an abomination, and he is planning on wiping us all out. The only way to stop them is to blow up their incoming portal the moment it opens.”

  Raphael frowned.

  “If what you say is true then these Gharials that attack the Chosen are just an advance force.”

  “Yes,” Sorrow nodded, “that’s what I’ve been trying to tell the Chosen. But they won’t fight; their defence and desire to defend dwindles day by day. Most simply stand by and let themselves and their children fall victim to the violence. If I could just get the Gods to do something….” She let her sentence trail off, “but I don’t know how to contact them, I’ve only seen one since coming to this planet, and that was only briefly.”

  “Forget the Gods,” he said rising and striding towards the door, “and forget the Chosen. They will not defend themselves; their religion forbids it. The fact even a few hundred agreed to fight was something we were surprised by. When we Scouts first reported it, we were not believed.”

  Sorrow frowned.

  “Do you think your government will believe me?”

  “That remains to be seen,” he smiled, “we shall need to organise a meeting as soon as possible, come.”

  “Hang on,” Sorrow shook her head, “two things; first, when are you going to release me? I’ll address whomever you like, but I need to return to Landfirst. I have a friend there who will be going crazy with worry, and secondly.”

  “Wait,” he held up his hand, “one thing at a time. I cannot promise when or if you will be released, I was told to capture one of you, and I have. As to your future, well, that depends on the powers that be – but you will not be harmed, I can promise you that.”

  She scowled.

  “Your second question?”

  “Are you planning on flying me somewhere?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then you will need to get me some underwear.”

  “Really?” he drawled, his eyes roaming her legs, lingering on her bosom and coming to rest on her face, “how thoughtless of me not to provide that.”

  Sorrow snorted at his expression.

  “Is this your thing? Capture women and flirt with them because you can’t get them otherwise? And just so you know, I can and will escape given the first opportunity, knickers or no knickers.”

  “I certainly hope you try,” he said, still smiling but shaking his head from side to side, “I might need to warm you up again, and no, I don’t usually kidnap women, in fact, you are the first – and generally women prefer to meet me sans underwear.”

  Sorrow laughed despite herself.

  Raphael held out his hand, but seeing she was not going to take it, pointed to the door.

  “I promise I will fly in such a way that no one will notice you don’t have any underwear,” he said, suddenly serious, “no net this time, I will carry you.”

  Sorrow rolled her eyes.

  “In your arms? While you fly?”

  “Of course.”

  “What if you drop me?”

  “That won’t happen.”

  “What if a pod comes by and shoots us out of the sky?”

  “That can’t happen,” he said confidently. Throwing open the door he pointed for her to look up, indicating a crisscross of red lines in the sky, like a latticework above the treetops.

  “Laser web,” he smiled.

  Sorrow frowned, a laser network was not what she had expected from such an obviously basic society.

  “You have lasers but not running water?”

  “What this?” he pointed back inside, “this is a honeymoon retreat, considered beautifully rustic, very sought-after by newlyweds, I’ll have you know.”

  Sorrow snorted.

  “You don’t believe me,” he laughed. “Look.”

  Sorrow stepped forward and looked to where he now pointed.

  “Don’t step, you will fall,” he said, leaning slightly aside so that she had to push close to his body to see down.

  Craning her neck, she leaned forward and gasped. Below her was what looked for all the world like a modern city. Small vehicles zoomed along orderly roads, apartment blocks, office blocks, shops, parks – before her stretched a vista not dissimilar to one you might see standing on a skyscraper and looking across New York or any other large city in the human world. Yet above all, stood the giant trees, trees bigger and taller than any skyscraper – just like the one she was staying in.

  “Holy shit,” she breathed, “you are modern.”

  “Thank you,” he snorted, “I think.”

  8

  Sorrow lazed back in her chair in the small restaurant Raphael frequented, and smiled at him.

  “That,” she patted her stomach, “was amazing.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he said, smirking at the empty plate in front of her that, a few minutes prior, had contained a hefty slice of cake smothered in small, sweet red berries and a chocolate-like sauce.

  “I know of many other pleasures my city offers that you would find satisfying, completely satisfying…” he gave her a seductive look.

  Sorrow laughed.

  “You don’t give up, do you?”

  “No,” he chuckled, “I’ll have you in my nest yet.”

  “You have no idea how absurd that sounds to me.”

  He shrugged.

  “Is my life so different to the one you knew on Earth?”

  Sorrow shook her head.

  “Yes and no. Our homes are the same, your food is, well, better. Your manners are the same. If it wasn’t for your wings and your annoying assertion you are the universe’s gift to women, I might actually think I was having a conversation with a human man.”

  “Conversation maybe,” he laughed, “but when we make love, and we will make love, you will not be able to compare me with a human, or any other species. I promise you that.”

  “You are incorrigible,” Sorrow smirked, “and you sounded just like my friend, Etienne when you said that. But all jokes aside. We both know what we need to do today. I’m ready when you are,” she picked up her cup and took a long, last sip of her sweet floral tea.

  “I want to go over things one more time first,” Raphael frowned, suddenly all business. “The King and his retinue are not the decision-makers in our society, as you already know since you addressed parliament last month – but they do hold a great deal of sway and are very much listened to in the halls of power, regardless.”

  “I know, I know,” Sorrow frowned, “I will be on my best behaviour. I’ll follow the protocols. I need to get this over and done with and get back to my friend in the Chosen township. He must be worried sick.” She didn’t bother saying she also wanted to see Judge again, that was a given, especially since they had become intimate, she had more questions she needed answering.

  Sorrow thought over her disappearance, more than a month ago now. She had half-expected a search party to be sent out. But since the city was nestled in between
a circle of snow-topped mountains, she knew that was impossible. Unless the search was led by someone who a) knew the city even existed and b) was an expert mountaineer; rescue was not going to come any time soon. And to be honest, rescue was not a word she completely associated with her need to leave. Apart from the first few nights spent in what she considered her tree prison towering above the city, she had been accorded the freedom to go where she wanted within the Winged city and do what she wanted. Raphael had given her currency for clothes, loaned her his vehicle and allowed her to move in with his sister; Gabriel, who Sorrow already considering a firm friend. To all intents and purposes, Raphael considered her his guest until such a time as her fate was decided following a meeting with the Angels – a meeting finally scheduled for today. Secretly though, she had already decided that if it went badly, she would strike out on her own, regardless of her regard for Raphael and Gabriel – being a guest who was not permitted to leave, didn’t sit well with her.

  “You have to concentrate on this meeting, Sorrow,” he said now, drawing her from her reverie. “There is no guarantee they will agree to let you go. It was King Zephon who suggested we capture one of you for interrogation, and he will determine if you pose a threat or can go free. I believe what you have told us, the parliament believes, in theory, but if you don’t convince the royal family there is a chance, a strong chance, you will remain our guest indefinitely. More importantly, if they don’t believe you and don’t agree to fund increased arms production, we might not hold the numbers to mount a full-scale armed resistance if what you predict comes to pass. There are many who feel we are safe here in our hidden cities – they believe the network of defensive lasers and shields are all we need.”

  “And you might be right,” Sorrow sighed, shaking her head, “but we can’t know for sure what Seth has up his sleeve. So far, I have only seen ground troops – but there is no guarantee he doesn’t also have armed spacecraft. If he does, your cities are as vulnerable as the Chosen on the plains if he knocks out your protective laser shields.