by Jann Rowland
Skye could have sent a slew of arrows after the harpies, but there were so many of them that he would run out of arrows before he finished them all. He was going to have to pull out his sword soon. He could only imagine the smug look on Tierra’s face had she seen him doing such a thing.
Something suddenly occurred to Skye, and he shouted, “Nimbus!”
The other man’s head twisted toward him. Nimbus and his griffin were battling a few particularly ferocious harpies, so the man’s eyes immediately returned to his opponents, though it was obvious he was still listening.
“Could you draw the harpies away?” Skye asked. “I can use my bow to shoot the ropes holding the griffins down. They’re so angry I think they’ll stay and attack instead of causing more mischief.”
Rather than answer, Nimbus turned his mount around, and he and his griffin charged into the thickest of the harpy numbers, the griffin screaming its defiance while its claws and hooked beak savaged the abominations. On the beast’s back, Nimbus drew a long halberd and swung it in wide circles, the weapon gleaming in the starlight as it sliced through the air. A moment later, Nimbus peeled off, streaking through the night sky, the horde of harpies hot on his tail.
Unfortunately, two of the horrid creatures decided to close in on Skye. He bludgeoned one with a heavy gust of wind, crushing its chest. Then he sighted along his bow and loosed an arrow into the other’s heart. The harpy fell to the ground.
With his knees, Skye guided his mount in a circle to get a better look at the griffins below. The beasts snapped and snarled, trying to reach the advancing Groundbreather soldiers and garms. Skye sighted along his drawn arrow and cried, “Hold still, Stardust!”
Skye reached out to the wind. Then he loosed several arrows, guiding them through the air. The arrows sheared through the ropes holding the griffins down. For the briefest moment, Skye thought what he had done was not enough, and he reached into his quiver for another arrow. Then the strength of the griffins snapped the cords holding them.
With a cacophony of cries, the griffins surged forward, falling upon the Groundbreathers and garms like a wave falling upon the shore. The shouts of the beleaguered soldiers and yelps of the massive dogs rose up to mingle with the screams of the infuriated griffins.
Sensing danger nearby, Skye looked at the sky. Nimbus was flying toward Skye, several harpies hot on his tail. Skye shot several arrows into the advancing mass of creatures, felling them as they approached. When they were only a few meters away, he drew his sword and urged Stardust forward, hacking and slashing while Stardust reached out with hoof and jaw, shattering bones and ripping tendons in a frenzy.
A moment later, the griffins arose from the ground, where they had dispatched the Groundbreathers, and began attacking the harpies. Though the abominable harpies were outnumbered, they fought on until the last one had been knocked from the skies.
The attack had been beaten back. From his vantage point in the air, Skye could scarcely believe it was finally over.
“Your Majesty!”
Skye turned and noted the approach of Griffin, who had apparently returned sometime during the attack on the back of his griffin, which he had taken hunting with him.
Skye made a gesture, and he and Griffin drove their mounts down toward the earth, alighting at the edge of their erstwhile camp. The carnage was complete, with ravaged Groundbreather bodies lying among the remains of harpies and even a griffin. Most chilling of all, there were bodies with short blond hair mingled with those of the darker-haired Groundbreathers.
“Sweet Celesta!” Skye swore. He rushed toward the motionless bodies, ready to provide any support he could.
But it was no use. Nightwind had been pierced through the heart by a Groundbreather shaft made of dirt, while Brightnest and Sunray had fallen to Groundbreather swords.
A soft flapping noise caught Skye’s attention, and he watched as Strix set down nearby. At least the bird had remained hidden during the battle as requested.
“Skye, are you all right?”
Turning, Skye noted the approach of Gusty, who did not seem to have been hurt at all. At once, the pain of a dozen minor wounds hit Skye, and he dropped to one knee, surveying the damage to his dream of finding Tierra. He and his comrades had fought and struggled and emerged victorious, but they had not escaped unscathed.
“This Groundbreather is still alive!” Griffin shouted from where he had been inspecting the dead.
Feeling an almost murderous fury, Skye moved to Griffin’s side. The wounded Groundbreather was lying in a pool of his own blood, gasping as a hole in his chest attested to the brutality of the Skychildren’s griffin mounts.
“Who are you? Where have you come from?” Skye demanded.
The man only gazed up at him and refused to speak.
“Vesper!” Skye called. “Please tend to him!”
The Skychild hurried forward and knelt beside the man, attempting to impart some healing.
“What is Wisteria planning?” Skye demanded.
“Your destruction,” the man said with the rictus of a grin. Then his eyes rolled up in his head, and he went limp.
Late into the night, the Skychildren took stock of their losses. Skye’s party had lost the captain of the squad and the two Sentinels, but everyone else would pull through, though only Gusty had survived unscathed. The other Skychildren felt the effects of the attack heavily at first. It was fortunate that Vesper was with them, as she was the only one who possessed any skill as a healer. She soothed the worst of their hurts and accelerated their recovery, and though Skye felt uncomfortable due to his wounds, they did not incapacitate him.
But he was heartsick. Three people who had accompanied him had given their lives for his protection, never to return to the sky that was their home. Wisteria’s actions and those of her cohorts had exacted a high price. It was one he was determined to collect.
The dead Skychildren were consigned to a funeral bier, as was tradition, and once the fire had burned out, their ashes were to be spread on the wind. Not everyone had agreed with Skye’s decision to do something that would give away their location, but he had insisted.
“We will follow the traditions laid down by Celesta herself,” he had said, ending all discussion of the matter. “If more Groundbreathers arrive, we’ll take to the sky. But until then, we will not leave the comrades who died to protect us without the benefit of our assistance to the afterlife.”
Fortunately, it appeared that the Groundbreather company that had attacked them had been alone in the area, for though the Skychildren stayed in the same location the next day, there were no further attacks.
The Skychildren gathered the bodies of the harpies together, all the while fending off the voracious griffins, who appeared willing to eat any sort of meat, even though the flesh of harpies would likely make them ill. Skye then called lightning down to ignite the blaze that consumed them. It was a form of insult to the creatures—Skychildren biers were prepared and fired in a ritualistic fashion, and no Skychild would ever be cremated using something as unpredictable as lightning called from the sky.
“Do you think the harpies were working with the Groundbreathers?” Gusty asked as they watched the pyres consuming friend and foe alike. They had already salvaged as many of their arrows as they could, but they would not last through several more such fights as this.
“I cannot imagine how,” Skye replied. “Harpies are feral, with little to no ability for thought. I suspect the Groundbreathers used the distraction to launch their own attack. Otherwise, they would simply have gone for reinforcements.”
Gusty grunted and did not pursue the matter any further.
Skye’s insistence that the Groundbreathers be given a burial caused further problems among the company, with a few angry denunciations, particularly from Nimbus, who, though normally not talkative, objected to the idea the most strenuously.
“You should leave their bodies here for the scavengers, Your Majesty,” Nimbus growled. “Our en
emies deserve nothing less!”
“These Groundbreathers may have been our enemies,” Skye said, “but they were still living and thinking beings. Even in death, they deserve a decent burial in the manner of their people’s traditions.”
“Their traditions,” Nimbus scoffed. “If they wanted to be honored, they should have refrained from assaulting a party of Skychildren already under attack by heinous beasts. If that is the sort of thing that makes up their traditions, then we need take no part in it. These despicable Groundbreathers have killed some of your men, and you wish to honor them?”
“I have no desire to desecrate the dead,” Skye said coolly. His hands formed fists at his sides as he fought to contain his anger. “If I were felled by my enemies, I would want them to handle my body properly. It is the right thing to do.”
“The right thing to do!” Nimbus cried out, throwing his hands in the air. “These Groundbreathers have been treating our people like animals for centuries, and you wish to help them with their afterlife! We are on a fool’s errand out here, Your Majesty! Searching for a Groundbreather princess who has been kidnapped by her own barbaric people? It is inconceivable! We should return to the sky realm at once. There is nothing for us to find here!”
By this point, the flames of Skye’s fury had been fanned, and the low and dangerous timbre of his voice indicated he was not to be trifled with. “We will continue on our current mission, and we will find Tierra. Have no doubt about that, Nimbus. Your protests are noted and discarded. If you had a problem with my mission, then you should never have agreed to come in the first place.
“Now, you may not approve of my decision to have the bodies of Groundbreathers buried, but you will abide by my orders. If I command you to bury every last one of these Groundbreathers with your own two hands, you will do it. I am your king. Do you understand?”
Nimbus’s chest was heaving and his nostrils flaring as he glared back at Skye. Never before had the man been so vocal about anything in Skye’s presence.
Griffin, who looked worried, reached out and touched his friend’s arm. “Nimbus—”
Nimbus jerked his arm away. He took in a few deep breaths, running a hand through his hair.
Skye waited, saying nothing. His body remained tense. If Nimbus failed to contain his anger, Skye wanted to be ready.
Finally, Nimbus closed his eyes and lowered his head. “I apologize for my outburst, Your Majesty. I will abide by your orders. You must understand that the three men we lost were my comrades—”
“I understand,” Skye said gently, putting his hand on Nimbus’s shoulder. The man stiffened, but he did not shrug off the contact. “I feel their loss as well. By treating these dead Groundbreathers with respect, I am not dishonoring the sacrifice made by Nightwind, Brightnest, and Sunray. This is something wholly apart from that. Furthermore, if you wish to look at it from a practical standpoint, you must realize that if we bury the Groundbreathers’ bodies, our trail will not be as easy to follow. If we leave a mass of dead bodies behind us, we will be quite obvious.”
Nimbus dropped his head. “It shall be as you say, Your Majesty. I shall aid with burying these Groundbreathers.” Then he turned away and moved to begin the very task he had protested doing.
Skye gave a nod to Vesper, Griffin, and Gusty. Vesper and Griffin moved to assist Nimbus in preparing for the burial. Gusty gave Skye a slight smile, as though approving of Skye’s handling of the volatile Skychild, and then he joined the others.
Skye felt a deep ache as he moved to provide aid of his own. Already, the confrontation with Nimbus was drifting out of his mind. He knew how the loss of someone could make one act irrationally.
Now, his mind was being consumed once more by the deaths of the three men. He did not look forward to speaking to the families of the fallen guardsmen, but he would have to do so upon his return. Already, he tried to figure out how any words would ever be able to soften such a blow.
Skye glanced over at the funeral bier. It still burned brightly, sending great clouds of smoke up into the sky. In his mind, he pictured the ashes of the three guardsmen rising into the air and being carried away by the wind. Their sacrifice would not be in vain. He would find Tierra and help her wrest control of the ground realm from Wisteria. And then, at last, they would have peace.
The journeys of Terrain soon took him through one of the great plains that had been caressed into being by Savanna the plains goddess, and he was stopped by the voice of the goddess.
“That garm at your side is intelligent and filled with energy,” said Savanna. “My fields are lonely with no one to tend to them and reap what they have to offer. Might you create caregivers for them?”
“O Savanna, it shall be as you say,” said Terrain, “for long have I thought on the emptiness of the world. It is meet that there should be someone to tend to it.”
And one final time Terrain called the gods to him, and under his direction, they formed large creatures in his image who walked on two legs upon the earth, and he called them Groundwalkers. But when Terrain breathed life into these new creatures, he gave them a greater measure of intelligence and ingenuity than he had given to the beasts of the forests and fields. And because they were intelligent, he told them to multiply and spread across the lands, tending to all the fields. And he instructed them to abide by his laws. He told them they must never kill other men and women, and they must worship no gods save him.
And the gods fell to their knees and praised Terrain.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Devotion
The water in the fountain was refreshing and cool, and she relished the sensation of it trickling through her fingertips. Water always made her feel so alive. The sound of it gently flowing from the fountain was music to her.
Water was the life’s blood of the world and everything in it. Nothing could match the life-giving powers of water, and in her mind and the minds of her people, there was no more important element. It was cool and calm, flowing through streams and beds with the comforting predictability of time itself, falling on parched earth from the skies above to bring energy and new life, and washing away the impurities of the earth. It was a marvelous substance.
Unfortunately, the being who had created her people and fashioned the waters of the earth was as volatile as blazing rocks spewing from a fiery mountain. It was a travesty that he had turned his back on them. Still, it had all been for the best, as they had gained much in the bargain.
A touch, a feeling of sorts, descended on her, and she raised her eyes. Contentment and acceptance settled over her, and she removed her hand from the fountain, pressing her wet fingertips against her lips in a soft kiss.
“What do you command?” she whispered.
The communication had never been one which was easily explained, for she had never heard words, though she suspected they were possible. The exchange was one that subtly guided through influence and intuition. It was formed with stronger bonds than lies told to induce a following based on blind trust. This entity, whose power was limitless, required no supposedly hallowed place to initiate contact.
Images flashed through her mind, and she felt awed all over again at being entrusted with such responsibility. As she rose to go about her tasks, she felt a smile spread across her face.
They were not ready to hear what she needed to tell them, but they soon would be. Seeds of their doubts would grow, nurtured by the unfolding of various events and the knowledge that nothing was as they had been taught. Soon, they would understand.
There was one thing to be said about Quicksilver. He was almost ritualistic in his insistence on dancing to honor Terrain every week.
That was the only thing Tierra appreciated about the man. It had been strange, at first, dancing with near-strangers to honor Terrain in a forest instead of a clearing and in a small group instead of a large one. And of course, the use of a mournful-sounding flute made it all the odder.
Tierra had become so accustomed to the
way of doing things with the other inhabitants of the Groundbreather castle that she had never stopped to consider what honoring Terrain would look like in small villages or even among just a few families.
This was the time when River really began to shine. She allowed herself to be freed of her worries, and though the sad melody played by the flute and the somber faces of the men nearby did not lend themselves to mirth, she nonetheless infused great energy into her movements. Her actions were at odds with the gentle swaying of the other Groundbreathers, but she did not let that intimidate her and pursued her joy and love for Terrain wholeheartedly.
Even now, she took Tierra’s hand with a grin. “Come, dear cousin!” she said. “Let us dance for Terrain!”
Tierra allowed herself to be dragged along, as River’s joy was infectious. And why should she not take a little time to be happy for all she had been given?
Hand in hand, Tierra and River began spinning in a slow circle together near the blazing campfire. The other Groundbreathers had already started their gentle movements. The atmosphere during the day was always so stifling among the party, but on the nights they danced for Terrain, the mood changed subtly.
As Tierra spun and laughed with River, she happened to glance over at Canyon, who stood in front of a tree. His mouth was slightly upturned, as if in a smile, but there was a sad look in his eyes.
Tierra faltered, her hands slipping out of those of her cousin, who began to dance around the campfire near a pair of men.
Canyon disappeared out of sight behind the tree, and Tierra frowned to herself. After glancing at River, who would likely not miss her for a while, Tierra moved away from the group and then went after Canyon.
