Wings of Justice (City of Light Book 1)

by Michael-Scott Earle

  My brother's amazement made me smile. Maybe I was still in disbelief about my appointment to the Potentia. I was little more than a street rat, a poor orphan girl who had done nothing more useful than being born, but I loved this city and her people. I'd wanted to feel the air like the birds and protect every child who didn't have parents. I wanted to serve the Priestesses and ensure order in the city.

  I wanted to make a difference, and now I floated on the cool winds of the city with my darling brother in my arms.

  Priestesses be praised for this miracle they had granted to my life.

  I spotted Juliana's tavern far below me in the distance, but I felt as if my wings could guide us there. Within a minute, we had landed in the cobblestone street right in front of the small tavern. I let go of my brother's chest, and he raised his arms in the air with a triumphant shout.

  "Whooo! That was amazing! We made it here in just a few minutes. No wonder the Potentia command the guards. You can get anywhere in the city quickly." He did a little dance next to me.

  "Yes, it was fun. I am eager to do more flying tomorrow."

  "I bet it will never get old," the handsome man laughed.

  "I doubt it," I said with a smile.

  "You know what else is amazing?" he stopped his dance and asked with a serious expression.

  "No--"

  "Your boobs. When did that happen? I've never really noticed them, but it was hard not to when they were pushing against my back. Now that you have a career, when are you going to find a man?"

  "You ass." I smacked him on the shoulder and tried not to smirk. He exploded with laughter so hard that he had to hold his sides.

  "You are terrible, and gross, and awful. Let's go meet our friends." His laughter continued until he was actually crying, so I walked toward the tavern where we both ate nearly every dinner.

  The exterior of the pub was made of thick clay, as were most of the buildings below the fiftieth level of Petrasada. Juliana had painted her building a bright shade of pink, though, and it practically glowed with the light of the twin suns. She'd made pretty flower paint designs on the surface of the roof, and the white petals of the artwork had been a familiar beacon while I floated above the city streets.

  I opened the door and stepped into the crowded restaurant. The sound was a cacophony that blended into an unintelligent sonata. It would be impossible to have a private conversation in the small room, but the locals didn't go to Juliana's for a quiet time. They went to be with their friends, yell at each other, and enjoy the rich smells and tastes of spicy grilled meats.

  The tavern room was suddenly silent.

  Sixty pairs of eyes gazed at me, and I froze with the door handle in my hand and my leg outstretched to step. The faces blended into a single chaotic painting, and I had trouble identifying the features of my friends. Was this what it was like to be a Potentia? The few times I had seen them enter taverns, the room had grown silent, and people had either left or whispered with fearful voices. No one wanted to feel the wrath of the Priestesses, and their winged commanders were arms of the city's justice.

  "Anelia is a Potentia!" Juliana was larger than any man I'd ever seen, even the rancher I had fought with earlier today, and her long blonde hair hung braided into two pigtails. She held four giant steins of beer in each hand, and her off-key, sing-song announcement caused the entire tavern to thunder with applause.

  I felt my cheeks turn hotter than the suns, and my brother pushed me the rest of the way into the restaurant. The place was packed with women and men. Now that I'd had a few seconds, I recognized all of them as my friends. Dozens of hands groped my cloak, shook my hands, and patted me on the back.

  "You knew about this?" I mouthed to my brother across the endless stream of congratulations. He winked at me and then turned to hug one of the pretty blonde girls who always seemed to be seeking his attention.

  I made my way through the crowd toward the bar, but the going was slow since each new set of greetings turned into a long explanation of my first day on the job and the magic of my cloak. My brother and I normally ate breakfast and dinner at Juliana's, so we knew almost everyone in this zone of the city.

  Finally, I reached the long bar and took my usual spot at the far end. Juliana stood behind the counter and threw her massive frame over the bar to embrace me.

  "We are so proud of you." She pulled my face into her ample bosom and wrapped her strong arms around my shoulders. "So, so, so proud of you." I probably wouldn't have been able to hear her with the normal noise level of the tavern, but her words were clear when my face was smooshed into her chest.

  "Oh! I am touching your cloak," she yelled and pulled me away from her breasts a second before I ran out of air.

  "That is fine, you can touch it." I smiled at the happy woman and gestured with my hand toward the pale blue fabric.

  "My hands are covered with food and beer. I don't want to get it dirty." Her big brown eyes glanced at the magical garment with hesitation.

  "No, it's fine, it won't get dirty. Magic and all that stuff. They said it was okay."

  "It is so soft. It almost feels like bird feathers, but it looks like thick cotton or wool now. How do you make it turn into wings?" my friend asked as she petted the cloth, but I couldn't hear her voice over the crowd now and had to read her lips. It was a skill my brother and I had perfected while eating here.

  "I just think about the change." I pointed at my head while I spoke. Juliana had started working as soon as she could walk and had taken over the restaurant from her parents ten years ago, so I was sure she could read my lips as well. I thought about making the cloak turn into feathers and saw my friend's big eyes get even larger. The tavern fell silent again, and everyone turned to see my Alula shift into feathers. Then I halted the process, and the cape transformed back into simple-looking cloth.

  The room erupted into applause, and I felt my cheeks heat again.

  "Alright, alright!" Juliana shouted above the crowd and waved her arms in the air. "We are all proud of our girl. So let's celebrate! Next round is on me!" They cheered again, and the big blonde woman made an athletic leap over the counter to where the beer barrels were stored.

  The crowd closed around me again, and someone handed me a stein of beer while another handed me a plate of food. We were near the slaughterhouses, and while Juliana couldn't afford to buy the choice cuts of meat, I'd grown to love the various ways she prepared offal.

  "Having a good time, Sis?" My brother had made his way across the tavern. He had two pretty girls flanking him, and I saw each of his arms wrapped around a slender waist.

  "Wonderful time. Thanks for the surprise." I smiled at him and then took a long swallow of the beer.

  "It was mostly Juliana and Severa. I just had to get you here. They took care of everything else."

  "Where is Severa?" I asked and sat up in my chair. I saw my red-headed friend on the other side of the room. The girl was in the middle of a drinking game, and our eyes connected. She raised a finger to show that she would come see me in a second and then laid a hand full of coins on the table. It looked like the party was about to get rowdy.

  Then I saw a man enter the tavern. He was covered with blood and had a crazed look in his eyes.

  He also carried a short sword in his hand.

  "Help!" he screamed, but I had already set down my beer and threaded through the crowd toward him.

  "Help!" he screamed again, and the tavern became quiet.

  "What is the matter?" I spoke from behind a few of my friends, and they quickly parted to let me pass.

  "Oh, thank the Priestesses. I never thought I would find a Potentia in this place."

  "You are covered with blood and holding a sword. Please explain yourself, citizen." The words had been practiced so many times that they came naturally to my lips.

  "There has been another murder," the man said with a shaking voice.

  Chapter 4

  "You are Anelia?" the woman's voice asked from behin
d me. I turned from the bloody corpse and saw the pair of blue-cloaked women standing in the entryway of the glassblower's shop.

  "Yes," I had been studying a muddy scrape near the body, and I stood to face the two Potentia. They almost looked like twins. They were both tall, slender, and possessed sharp facial features. The pair even styled their hair similarly. Each wore a blonde mane long down their back, but each also had a thick braid that came down from in front of the left ear. I looked between their mirror images and noticed that the woman who had addressed me initially had a slightly lighter shade of platinum hair than the other Potentia.

  "I am Iuna," she held her hand out to me, and our palms touched lightly.

  "I am Tensia," said the one with the slightly darker shade of blonde hair.

  "I guessed your identities. I also have a twin, but a brother." The women nodded at my words, and I felt stupid for saying them. The two sisters had worn their Alulas for over eight years and had refused promotions to captain in different nests so that they could continue to work together.

  "This isn't your nest's territory, Anelia. Why are you here?" Iuna asked.

  "I was eating at the tavern across the street. It is my favorite pub," I pointed behind them, and they turned to glance at Juliana's pink-painted restaurant, "and a man came in carrying a short sword. He was apprenticed to the glassblower."

  "Have you questioned him?" Tensia asked. Neither of them displayed any emotion when they spoke, but I didn't get the feeling that they were angry with my presence here.

  "Yes, would you like my report? Or do you want to question him yourselves? The guards have him in the next room."

  "Tell us what you gathered," Iuna said.

  "Aetius Colo was the name of the glassblower. I have met him a few times when he ate at Juliana's. His apprentice is Marco Demaris, who began working for Aetius six months ago. He was born on level eight, his parents are farmers, and he said he felt blessed to be accepted as Aetius' apprentice."

  "You don't suspect him?" Tensia glanced at the closed door behind which Marco sat with the city guards.

  "No. Marco was preparing dinner for his master when he heard the door to the shop open. He said it was unusual to have a customer come in so late, but he didn't think anything of it until he heard the arguing." I reached into the front pocket of my tunic and pulled out my compact notebook.

  "Did he overhear the argument?" the sister with the lighter hair asked.

  "Parts of it." I opened my notes so that I could read what I had written. "Whoever it was argued about a shipment of flasks. Aetius said that they weren't ready and that he hadn't paid him for the order and wouldn't be able to receive them when they were ready. The suspect said that Rafa was dead and that he needed the flasks or he would be next, at which point Marco said that the shouting escalated into screaming and he ran into the shop. He saw a large man, who wore a hooded cloak, crouching over his master's body. Marco claims that he grabbed the sword from his counter, struck the man with the blade, and chased him out the door. Then he tried to staunch his master's bleeding. When it became apparent that Aetius was dead from his injury, Marco ran out of the shop, heard the crowd inside Juliana's, and entered to seek help."

  "Rafa sounds familiar," Tensia said.

  "Rafa Manus is the name of a tavern owner who was murdered in my territory yesterday morning. My wingmate and I are the investigators on that case."

  "Who is your wingmate?"

  "Me," Fallon said as she stepped through the doorway of the glass shop. "Is my pigeon bothering you both? She's been a nuisance to me for the last twenty hours."

  "Ahh, Fallon." Iuna turned to face the older woman, and both the twin sisters finally smiled. "It is good to see you."

  "Good to see both of you as well." My square-faced wingmate smiled in return, and I was surprised by the difference the grin made to the woman's face. The three of them exchanged hand touches, and then Fallon fixed her angry blue eyes on me.

  "Did the pigeon give you her report?" she asked.

  "Yes. It sounds complete, but I will speak with the witness to ensure the accuracy." Iuna smiled at me and then turned to the door behind which Marco was being kept. "You three should discuss the murder connections while I am at this task."

  "Pigeon, repeat your report," Fallon ordered, and I told her what I had said to the two sisters. My wingmate didn't acknowledge my words. Instead, she kneeled next to the body of Aetius and studied the wound on his neck.

  "Is this murder similar to the case you are working on?" Tensia asked Fallon once I had finished speaking.

  "We had some complications with the questioning yesterday, so I was unable to find out the exact circumstances of Rafa Manus' death. These wounds look similar though."

  "They look like bite marks," I commented, and both of the women glanced between my face and the corpse. The wound was right at the glassblower's carotid artery, and the clay tiles of the room were stained with the man's blood.

  "Why would a man bite another man? Idiot." Fallon sighed and stood up from the corpse. "Did you have any other observations?" she asked me, but then raised her hand to keep me from answering. "No, just don't say anything else. I'm already embarrassed enough."

  My cheeks heated again, and the loaf-sized lump returned to my throat. I had wanted to tell her about the muddy mark I had found by the doorway, but it was obvious that Fallon didn't care. Perhaps I had been foolish to think that there would not be a hazing period during my term as a pigeon, but I would have never guessed that Fallon would despise me so much.

  "The wound does not look to be made by a blade," Tensia said. "Perhaps a puncture weapon. Or maybe your pigeon is correct?"

  "Have you ever heard of such a thing, Tensia?" Fallon smirked at the other woman and shook her head.

  "No, but these are strange times. My sister and I haven't slept for three days because of the crime. It is fortunate that the Alula grants us fortitude."

  "Anelia's account from the witness is valid," Iuna said as she emerged from the adjacent room.

  "These are strange times indeed," Fallon shook her head and smirked at Tensia. "This is your nest; do you want our assistance with this case? I am only here because my pigeon sent the guard to fetch me."

  "We wouldn't mind your help, Fallon," Tensia said, "But your nest has four times more crime than ours. I believe your captain would not appreciate you spending time here."

  "That is correct," my wingmate sighed and glanced at me. "I will be returning to my apartment then." The woman nodded to the other two Potentia and then walked out of the glass shop.

  "I'll see you in the morning?" I called after her, but the short-haired woman either didn't hear me or didn't care to answer. Her Alula unfurled as soon as she stepped into the open air, and the wings flapped a few times before she floated upward.

  "Is it supposed to be like this with pigeons?" I asked the twins once Fallon had lifted away.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Fallon seems to not like me." I hesitated to tell the women my feelings, and regretted the admission as soon as the words left my mouth.

  "It took her five years to warm up to us," Iuna shrugged. "I think she is treating you kindly. You are her wingmate after all."

  "Okay, forget I said anything." I looked at the muddy mark by the doorway and then glanced at the door behind which the guards held Marco. "Do you mind if I ask the witness a few more questions?"

  "If you wish. We will consult with the guards outside and see if any other citizen has come forth with information." They stepped out of the door and into the sunny street while I moved to the other room.

  "Potentia," the guard said as he saluted me. Marco was where I had left him, sitting on his cot and crying into his hands. His master's blood was caked on his arms, and he trembled when he heard the guard announce my presence.

  "I have a few more questions for you."

  "Yes, Potentia," he said through a sob.

  "The man who attacked your master, you said you couldn't
tell his facial features because of his hood and the blood on his face?"

  "Yes, ma'am. I really wish I had noticed more. My master was kind to me, and I want justice for his murder."

  "I understand. When the killer ran from you, did he stumble on the ground?"

  "I don't recall, ma'am, it could have happened." He shrugged and whimpered. I did feel sympathy for the young man. Not just because he had witnessed such a cruel fate for his master, but because it would mean the loss of opportunity. Marco's family came from level four of Petrasada. This apprenticeship might have been a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to climb the ranks of citizens into somewhat of a middle class. I understood his frustrations. I had felt the same way a few hours ago when I believed that I was about to be dismissed from the Potentia.

  "Did your master keep an order log? Or some sort of accounting books?

  "Yes, ma'am," he said as he wiped the snot from his nose with a blood-stained sleeve.

  "Show me," I ordered, and Marco rose to his feet. He directed me back into the main room of the shop, where the body was, and then through another door behind the glass counter that displayed the glassware. This room was large and looked to be dug into the level wall of Petrasada. I saw dozens of sand bags, pots of dye, tables with blow sticks, a smoldering furnace, and a large desk made of clay. The apprentice directed me to the desk and then opened the large leather-bound journal lying on top.

  "Can you point me to the record of Rafa Manus' order?" Part of my training had basic accounting work in case the Potentia had to intervene with tax collection, but I realized it was going to take me a few hours to make sense of Aetius' ledger.

  "I am sorry, Potentia. My master was beginning to teach me to read, but my lessons aren't advanced enough to work on the accounting."

  "Ahhh," I sighed and flipped through the thick bamboo pages of the book. It seemed like each page represented a week's worth of orders. I flipped past six of them and then noticed something off about the gutter of the journal. There was still some sunlight streaming in from the open doors of the workshop and front-sales rooms, but it looked as if the book had been manipulated.