Kindred and Wings

by Philippa Ballantine

  Other wings had taken up residence, and down on the plain before the volcano were groups of other beings. They had to be more Named, a seething mass of creatures birthed from every myth and legend of all the peoples who had come to Conhaero. Not the best of enemies to have.

  Varlesh, in his black dragonet form, flew a little faster and was able to reach Equo’s side. One of his red eyes caught his brother’s, and there was doubt in it—but not fear.

  The Ahouri had one advantage that their small size belied; they had the Songs of the nature. Varlesh began it, singing from the throat of his form, the strains of the melody of flesh. Even the Named had form and shape. They would remake it and it would be most unpleasant.

  The flock of Ahouri dived down on those on the plain. Equo kept scanning for signs of Nyree, but there were none. Still, the Song was having an effect. All of the Named looked up in horror as it washed over them.

  Some centaurs fell to their knees, bellowing like struck bulls. Snakes hissed and coiled on themselves as if they had been speared. None were able to take much notice of the Ahouri swinging down over them, let alone strike back. It was a most excellent start.

  The Song was so beautiful and deadly that the Form Bards grew confident. They let the rhythm carry them higher, so that the notes of it would reach the creatures of the air. It was their shield.

  Now everything above them was struck by the wave of music. As the flock of Ahouri flew higher, the other forms scattered before them, trying to escape the sound. Equo was elated. They were like eagles with sparrows fleeing before them.

  Now they were in the clouds, and caught glimpses of the rough and rocky surface below them. He led them on, further up, following the line of the volcano toward its rim; that was where he was sure he would find the entrance to the interior of Conhaero. That was also where he was sure the Kindred and the Phage would be—and where they would most likely have Nyree.

  As they went, though, the Song was becoming harder to hold. The physical effort of it and flying drained his energy, so he knew the other Ahouri would also be suffering. It had been a long time since they had sung this together. The melody was beginning to fall apart, and though he tried to strengthen it, he knew that it could not hold for long. Some of the notes were off, too.

  Just a little longer, he thought to himself, since he could not spare his voice to tell them so. The green form of Si drew closer, and Equo’s energy reserves came back.

  The ahouri swooped around a thick rock formation, almost scraping their wingtips on it, and there was the top of the volcano; the very edge of Conhaero. Two figures stood there, and one Equo recognized immediately. Nyree and her pae atuae were glowing, while standing at her side was a woman with a strange ruffle around her neck.

  Equo was not so foolish as to attack immediately. He led the flock of Ahouri around the basin, though the smell of sulphur and the reflected heat were painful. The Song was having no effect on either of the women, but the one with the odd neckwear was following their path with her gaze.

  The Ahouri flock soared around the edge and came back again. Equo was already readying another song, this one to confuse the mind rather than the flesh, when he saw and finally understood what was around her neck.

  The horror of trapped Kindred twisting and turning, as if trying to escape, nearly drove all thought from his mind. To the Form Bards this was the greatest abomination. They had to be freed.

  He let out a shriek of outrage and dived toward them, not caring if the others followed. That was when the woman pointed to the thick clouds over their head. The dragon roared out from it, plummeting down toward the Ahouri. She was not alone. Other dragons made their appearance with mind-bending roars and displays of different colored fire. Equo swiveled his head around desperately and realized there were at least five dragons in all.

  The flock of Form Bards scattered before them, but several were not fast enough. They were snatched from the air as snakes might catch birds.

  The howls of his dying people and their songs urged Equo to action. Si and Varlesh were on each side of him, matching his wing beats and keeping pace with him as he climbed up toward the dragon with the dire rider.

  The beast was massive and loomed over the roaring volcano, the red glow of the magma lighting up her belly and her eyes. Her cavernous mouth opened and she roared.

  The Ahouri darted past her, as if she were a wagon and they more nimble riders. Equo and his brothers could not use dragon fire, especially with the song being their more powerful weapon. They sang of the frailness of flesh as they flew along her flanks, peppering her rough hide with melody as they went. It would have turned any other creature to a mass of ill-defined flesh, but this creature was made of sterner stuff.

  The granite dragon turned and snapped at them, as her rider called out something to her. Equo banked left as they reached the end of her lashing tail. Varlesh, just fractionally behind him, had to twist to avoid being skewered by it.

  If only they knew the Name of this beast, he thought frantically, they could make a Song for it. Creating such a piece while in flight and in peril would not be an easy thing, but it would at least give them a hope.

  Varlesh and Si separated from him, turning around and flying back on either side of the dragon, acting like midges on a dog. She snapped and lunged at them, but they flipped and dodged so much that the dragon could not bring her fire to bear properly. They sang as they went; even if it made no difference, it was their way.

  Equo took the chance that his brothers and the rest of the Ahouri were giving him. He turned hard, high above the dragon, and drove down not at the dragon, but at her rider. The Ahouri plummeted down upon her, and wrapped teeth and claw about her.

  Like the woman below, this dire child seemed to have nascent Kindred trapped in a ring around her shoulders. It made him feel better about menacing someone who was apparently so young. She screamed, and the Kindred bit and struck at his wings and talons.

  “Barmethesis, help me!” she howled as Equo snapped at her face. It was all he had wanted. He let go of her and dropped off the back of the dragon with a shriek of triumph.

  As he circled the beast, trying to find sounds and tunes that would do what he required, he took a quick note of Nyree. She was struggling with the woman on the edge of the volcano, hair was flying around both women from the heat—and there was something else happening behind her. Figures appearing from nowhere. Maybe they were Kindred, maybe not.

  Equo couldn’t stop to see. The dragons were all lashing out around him, and the Ahouri were dying. He had to think quickly. Finally the song came to him. With Si and Varlesh following in his wake and picking up the tune, he turned and spun, singing. He’d woven the name Barmethesis into it, and the difference was immediately obvious.

  The rocky gray skin rippled as he flew past howling the tune, and the dragon screamed in response. Now she was forgetting about the bothersome Ahouri and concentrating all of her attention on the one that was paining her.

  Rider and dragon began to chase the brothers. Her wing beats and her hot breath were on them. Yet the song was not bringing down the dragon; it was hurting her, but she flew on. Barmethesis’ flame passed close to them, narrowly missing Si, and Equo realized abruptly what had to be done.

  He had no way of telling his brothers, but he deliberately slowed his wing beats, dropping back from them. The idea was a perfect crystal in his head. The moment was a long one.

  Then Equo turned, spun and fell toward the creature’s mouth. By some stroke of luck he had timed it perfectly, landing near the dragon’s jaws but not in them. Her foul breath raked over him, but her teeth did not reach him. He only a moment to get this mad venture right.

  Raising himself up, Equo sang directly into the mouth of the dragon. She snapped desperately, but the call of flesh went past that thick, rocky hide and into the softest part of the Named’s flesh and brain.

  You cannot fly, Barmethesis, the Song whispered seductively. You are Kindred, of the earth and
that is all you are.

  Barmethesis did not scream. Her wings slowed a fraction. She listened—then she began to fall.

  Equo felt the whistle of the air around him, but he couldn’t push free of her. Her fall was his fall. They were locked together as he had known they would be.

  The dragon hit the ground near the rim of the volcano. Equo felt an explosion of pain, and knew his form and all his forms would not walk or fly from this. He caught a glimpse of Si and Varlesh turning and dropping toward him. It was good to see them, to know that they were safe.

  He was grateful also that he could see Nyree from here. Though he wished he could sing one more song, he dimly heard the Ahouri flying above, continuing on. The melody and words were so beautiful that it was all worth it. Nyree probably knew he loved her, and that would have to do.

  The Swoop flew through the gap in the White Void, chilly avian breaths suddenly escaping into a far warmer climate, and erupted in a flurry of feathers and calls above a steaming and angry volcano.

  Finn, Wahirangi, Syris, Ysel, and Talyn walked through behind them, but also felt the sudden wave of warmth like a blow. The nykur tossed his head, and lowered it like a bull ready for a fight. It appeared he was likely to get one.

  A volcano. The Belly of the World was a volcano. Finn might have guessed that. Looking up, he stumbled on the unstable rocks, and it was Talyn who helped him up. They both watched the Swoop circle back down the flank of the volcano, and already they had plenty of enemies. A mass of Named were racing up the slopes on feet and hooves, while shapes were moving in the clouds above.

  Talyn called out, but far too late; Syris was already racing down the slope to join the fray. Anywhere that blood was flowing was where his nature would take him. Chaos would meet chaos. The nykur, who was supposed to be a silent creature, let out a noise like a screaming hawk. It was an eerie battle cry.

  “Sister,” Wahirangi spoke, and all of them jerked around, alerted to something far closer but a lot less dangerous. The shape of a felled dragon lay half buried in the earth. Ysel crowded closer to his brother, a strangely childish gesture from a boy who claimed so many powers. Finn recognized the dragon immediately—it was the same creature that had attacked them on the way to Elraban.

  While that knowledge burned its way into his brain, a small figure was climbing down from atop it. Such a crash should have shaken anyone, but there was a disconcerting sureness about the child’s steps. The talespinner felt his jaw clench the closer it got. He hadn’t forgotten anything of their last encounter with this thing.

  “There’s Nyree,” Talyn called, pulling his attention away from the oncoming child for just a moment.

  A woman, her skin alive with the pae atuae, was struggling with another who appeared to have Kindred attached to her neck and shoulders. Finn did not need to be told which one was not on their side.

  “And that is Circe,” Talyn went on, unsheathing her sword, and unholstering her pistol. “She and I are due a reckoning. I will deal with her. Can you take care of that thing?” Her mouth twisted as she pointed at the black-eyed child.

  Two Phage, and she was giving him and his brother the smaller one—pretty generous, Finn thought.

  “Go,” he said as calmly as this situation would allow. “Get Nyree!”

  It spoke of her confidence in them that Talyn was instantly running as directed. He did not want that to be misplaced. As the child drew slowly nearer, he tried to judge how this could possibly go. Ysel remained silent, but his fists were clenched as if he wanted to punch the girl desperately.

  Screams above caught their attention. The predatory birds of the Swoop were engaged in battling what looked like two kinds of dragons; some small, some large. Flames were lighting up the clouds, and reptilian screams were filling the air.

  “Those are not Phage,” Ysel said, matter-of-factly.

  Wahirangi’s head dipped toward the brothers. “The Swoop are confused. It is as Ysel says; the small ones are not Phage, but Ahouri. I must get everyone fighting their shared enemies, not each other.” His opal eyes raked over the black-eyed girl child, but Finn knew what held him back from killing her with fire; the Pact still bound the Kindred from killing Vaerli. The Phage had taken full advantage of that fact.

  “Quickly, then,” Finn urged, seeing that many of their friends were in danger. The Ahouri might mean that his friends Varlesh, Equo, and Si were up there. “Help them!”

  Gathering his legs beneath him, the golden dragon surged into the sky, blue flames jetting from his mouth. Finn didn’t see any way that the beast could now avoid killing his own kin. It was the nature of battle that blood was set against blood.

  All that he and Ysel were left with was a child. She didn’t stand much taller than Finn’s brother, but she had even less of the child about her.

  Her solid black eyes were even more disconcerting as she drew nearer. Finn noted that from under her dress lone dark lines were drawn upon her skin—they looked awfully like pae atuae.

  One glance to his left told him that whatever Talyn was doing had now moved out of sight behind the bulk of the dead dragon. As Finn watched the child moving toward them slowly and deliberately, he began to wonder if a dragon might not be the lesser of two great evils.

  “Half-Vaerli,” she said, cocking her head and smiling slightly at the brothers. “You two are the things left behind by Putorae. The anchors needed.” Her laugh was cold. “You are so broken and so unprepared.”

  It was obvious she was trying to rattle them, but Finn was too busy examining what sort of threat she was. Plenty of stories told of terrifying children, eldritch and dangerous, but that was usually on lonely roads and in misty swamps. This creature, though she was terrifying looking, did not even have a blade. He was not stupid enough to point that out.

  Just as he was thinking that, her head turned toward Ysel. “Despite what you look like, you actually have the better training.” Her grin spread wider. “So you will know of the Phage, and how the Gifts the Vaerli possessed are still ours, just twisted. The Gift of flesh, for example.”

  She didn’t make a move, but suddenly Ysel let out a howl that sounded as though he had been stabbed. His eyes bulged, and as Finn watched in horror, bruises began to appear all over his body as if he were being crushed by some unseen force. He put out his hand to comfort him, but there was little he could do.

  “And time,” the girl went on, the twisted pae atuae shimmering on her skin. “You should feel the weight of time, as well.”

  Wahirangi screamed above, and for a moment Finn hoped that help might come from that quarter, but Named creatures were now engaging the Swoop and his dragon.

  It is just one little girl, Finn reminded himself, and she was hurting his newly found brother. He would have to stop her himself.

  Until she turned her attention to him. Those black eyes bored into him. Suddenly, every bone creaked and groaned in pain. He felt the weight of the world focusing on him through those completely black orbs of hers. Suddenly movement was not an option.

  As he fell to his knees, he caught a glimpse of Ysel in the same position.

  “So much for Putorae’s sons,” the girl said, standing over them, a disparaging look on her young face. “Weak like their mother, and unfinished like their father.”

  The memory of the Last Seer fading before his eyes somehow reached Finn, and gave him enough energy to reach out with his hands. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to make contact.

  In that moment before she shook him off, he reached for that Gift that was not from the Vaerli. It was from his father, something that he had always thought of more as a curse than a blessing. It had saved him many times, and this time was to prove no different.

  All those times that he had been shunned, laughed out of town, mocked by his classmates for being an orphan rushed back to the talespinner. Every moment where he had been overlooked, and gone hungry because no one cared about him filled his mind.

  You are small. Insignifica
nt. Nothing. His gift said, but this time it was not saying it to him, it was saying it to the Phage child. It was burying that message inside her, pushing aside the one that said she was special.

  It would have been a terrible thing to do to a child, but this was no child. Finn had to remind himself of that. She had been made to be the seer, a creature of darkness, birthed by twisted beings that did not deserve the name of Vaerli.

  While he concentrated, the Phage staggered back, losing her grip on Ysel. The boy was quick-witted; he darted forward, pulled his knife free of its sheath, and struck with all of his might. He did not aim for the black-eyed girl herself, but instead at the circle of Kindred struggling around her shoulders.

  He pulled them away from her body and with remarkable precision cut them free. The girl screamed, as if he had cut her instead. Ysel threw the Kindred away behind him. They landed like patches of magma, yet far brighter and more vengeful. As Finn watched from where he was sprawled on the ground, they grew from small patches to fully sized Kindred. They once more were like their kin, without expression or limbs; simply looming rocky beings. Except they rounded on the girl with something that was easily identifiable as vengeance.

  Finn scrambled up from where he had fallen and grabbed hold of Ysel. He yanked him away before either of them could see what terrible retribution the Kindred would favor her with. No one needed to see that.

  Besides, they were far from safe. They had to find Talyn, because now he could feel it. The White Void was coming. It was coming and they did not have four seers.

  Talyn wrenched Circe off Nyree by the most expedient method: wrapping her hand around the snapping shape of one of the Kindred and yanking hard. Perhaps she might have chosen hair, normally, but the trapped creatures of chaos provided better grip. The Phage spun around with a hiss, but was not as put off as Talyn had hoped, since she delivered a strong side-kick to the made seer that sent her slipping down the inside of the rim of the volcano.