On Wings of Air (Earth and Sky Book 1)

by Lelia Eye

  The first guard whistled quietly. “I am guessing by the expression on your face that he managed to escape. Did the ground-cages not work?”

  “A few of the garms tackled him, but the blasted sky-cretin managed to fly away before we could capture him. He killed one of the dogs, too. Hightower is pretty shaken up about it. He loved that garm.”

  “Say what you will, but I would just as soon love a ground-snake as a garm. At least snakes never salivate on you.”

  “No, but they will kill you if Her Majesty commands it. That does not sound more appealing to me.”

  As the two men continued to debate the merits of garms versus ground-snakes, Princess Tierra tried to casually extricate herself from her position without drawing notice.

  When she heard one of the talkative guards start cursing behind her, she knew she had failed, but she did not look back. She simply stalked away and went to find her parents.

  The great hall was a large open room, solid and dependable, much like those who ruled over it. The walls were smooth but largely bare of any adornment, as was proper; after all, the castle had been constructed from the rock of the earth which Terrain had created, and that was adornment enough.

  Queen Sequoia and King Tillman were already in the great hall with the Sword of Terrain, who served as the head of the guard. Also standing nearby were a few Iron Swords who had presumably been on the hunt for the Skychild foolish enough to show his face about the castle. Tierra’s mother was obviously irritated, and her anger only seemed to grow upon seeing her youngest daughter approach.

  After curtseying, Tierra said by way of greeting, “Father, Mother.” Then she asked without preamble: “What is this I hear about a Skychild in the castle?”

  Queen Sequoia exhaled slowly as she fought back her frustration. “A Skychild spy was poking his nose into places he did not belong. The Sword of Terrain tells me that his men failed to capture him.” There was a dangerous glint in her eyes.

  Despite all the traps that Groundbreathers had devised over the years, Skychildren were by nature difficult to capture. Groundbreather powers were impressive, so it should have been easy. After all, any Groundbreather worth his salt could manipulate earth and metals at remarkable speeds.

  Unfortunately, the power of flight gave the Skychildren a distinct advantage. It meant that capturing a Skychild was like trying to capture a bird; it was not impossible, but the creatures’ ability to flit away made the task difficult. More often than not, a fleeing Skychild would rise up in the air, evading the Groundbreathers’ powers while issuing gleeful taunts. Such a scene had played itself out on uncountable occasions in the course of their shared history.

  Everyone in the room knew all this. The Groundbreathers rarely caught any Skychildren, and those that were taken into custody automatically became slaves. There were several such Skychildren in outlying communities, and three lived in the Groundbreather castle. Tierra’s parents and her sister each had a slave, and the next Skychild would be assigned to Tierra. As a result, perhaps Tierra should have been upset that the Groundbreather guards had failed to capture the spy, yet she could not bring herself to feel any distress. She had no need—or desire—for a slave.

  Giving the Sword of Terrain a sympathetic glance, Tierra asked her mother, “Do you know what he wanted?”

  “I intend to have the purpose for his visit thoroughly investigated,” Queen Sequoia said in a low voice. “I will find out what he has learned.” Her gaze focused elsewhere as she no doubt considered the punishments that would rain down on the Skychild’s head should he ever be caught.

  In this moment of distraction, Tierra took the opportunity to study her mother, whom she had always considered to be one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen.

  Like most of her kind, Queen Sequoia was of a moderate stature and had darker coloring than the Skychildren. Her luxurious locks, which Tierra herself had inherited, were swept up and knotted on the back of her head, and they fell from there to the middle of her back. While the queen was more than fifty years of age, there was not a hint of gray in her hair, as the powers which coursed through Groundbreather veins made them long-lived and kept them looking young well past the age in which most Groundwalkers were stooped over and decrepit. Sequoia’s face was handsome, with the brown eyes set in high cheek-bones which were typical to those of her race, but it contained a certain angularity that was made all the harsher due to her personality. There was little softness to the queen. She was strong and impatient, and many a courtier had felt the sharpness of her tongue.

  King Tillman was, by contrast, a bluff and kindly sort of man. He was several years older than Tierra’s mother, but he did not appear so by his looks, which were those of a mature man who had many years of life left before age began to take its toll. His features were softer than his wife’s—his face was rounder and broader and his cheeks not so prominent, though his eyes appeared harder and almost black, like two chips of agate. His dark brown hair, which, like Sequoia’s, was long in the Groundbreather style, was pulled back. Tillman was taller than most Groundbreathers, but he was still shorter than his Skychild slave, a man of advancing years who had been in the Groundbreather castle for some decades. Despite the hardness of his eyes, the king was a mild-mannered fellow who generally followed the lead of his fiery wife, though Tierra had never quite known why. To the best of Tierra’s memory, he had never appeared to be intimidated by the queen; in fact, Tillman and Sequoia enjoyed a strong relationship which Tierra hoped to emulate herself one day with a partner of her own.

  “Sword of Terrain!” Sequoia snapped suddenly.

  The man came forward and saluted. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

  “This incident is to be thoroughly investigated. Trace this Skychild’s steps throughout the castle. I want to know what he was doing here.”

  “It shall be done at once, my queen!” the head of the Iron Swords responded with a bow before he left the room.

  Aware that her mother would be stewing about this incident for some time, Tierra excused herself to return to her room and escape any possible expressions of outrage. It was unlikely they would ever learn exactly what the Skychild had been doing, which would not make Queen Sequoia’s temper any easier to tolerate. Skychildren were, by their very nature, difficult to understand, like unruly children who defied any attempts to reason with them. Groundbreathers were much more stolid and dependable. But for all their differences, there had been no war between them for generations, just raids issued by the Skychildren on their ground-dwelling neighbors.

  As Tierra walked through the corridor toward the royal wing of the castle, her thoughts focused on the commotion which had arisen because of the Skychild spy. Ordinarily, Skychildren stayed clear of Groundbreather cities, preferring to raid the more distant settlements, as those locations did not have such a high concentration of defenders. For a Skychild to have ventured so close to the Groundbreathers’ seat of power and its attendant dangers, he must have been very foolish . . . or he must have had some highly important purpose in mind. What the Skychildren could be looking for, Tierra could not imagine. Groundbreathers and Skychildren typically disdained the interests of the other.

  Knowing that she would hear about the investigation when the report was made, Tierra decided to put the matter out of her head. While there was no relationship of any sort between Skychildren and Groundbreathers due to their ancient and implacable enmity, Tierra herself felt rather ambivalent about Skychildren. The three slaves in the castle appeared to be kind enough, though they were certainly downtrodden, and she figured that as long as Skychildren did not bother her, she was content to leave them alone in return.

  A giggle caught Tierra’s attention, and she turned her head, looking down a small hallway which led off the main corridor. It was dimmer in that hall, but she could make out the outline of a couple holding a tryst. Shaking her head at the impropriety of such an encounter, Tierra made to leave when the sound of voices floate
d out to her.

  She knew both of those voices!

  Anger welled up within her, and she stalked down the hallway. The two illicit lovers sprang apart as she approached, revealing the guilty countenances of her now-erstwhile admirer . . . and her sister. Well, in truth, the latter appeared to be more smug than guilty, but of course, she always seemed that way.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Tierra demanded.

  “What does it look like, little sister?” Wisteria replied in a haughty tone. “It seems to me that Baron Ranger’s youngest son prefers my company to yours. But then again, everyone does.”

  “Umm . . . Tierra,” the mortified Aspen began, his face flushed.

  Tierra favored the young man with a scathing glare and then stalked away, leaving him sputtering behind her.

  As Tierra traveled the halls, she felt her fury grow. It was not as though she was deeply in love with Aspen; on the contrary, she only felt a slight fondness for the boy. And a boy he was—at eighteen, he was junior even to Tierra’s nineteen years. And she did have to admit to herself that he was a bit of a twit. His most appealing quality was the fact that he was one of the handsomest boys she had ever seen.

  Her main problem with discovering him in such a situation was that Wisteria took delight in stealing what was Tierra’s. As the eldest at twenty-five years of age, Wisteria was destined to be the next ruler of the Groundbreathers after King Tillman returned to Terrain’s earth, and she enjoyed rubbing this fact in Tierra’s face at every opportunity.

  Tierra knew she did not begrudge Wisteria her position as heiress apparent, and she did not even truly wish her ill. Certainly, she did not want whispers of Wisteria being a loose woman to spread through the castle. But Tierra also knew she could not allow her sister to walk all over her either.

  Tierra stopped suddenly at one of the windows which overlooked the castle grounds and gazed outside, taking in the landscape in an attempt to calm herself. The Groundbreather castle had been built into the side of a mountain with a fairly wide plateau in front of it which served as the site of a small town. From there, the land sloped off gently in three directions out into the foothills on the edge of the mountain range behind the castle. From certain locations, a fabulous view of the surrounding countryside was to be seen. Below her position, she could see the Groundbreather realm stretch into the distance, down toward the plains and beyond to the ocean which lay in the distance, just out of sight. The greater part of the Groundbreather civilization lived down on those plains, and Groundbreather powers helped the growth of all their crops, regardless of the weather and the availability of water. Those settlements fed the castle and some of the larger cities situated within the range of the mountains. It was all very important and necessary . . . and boring.

  Tierra sighed. What she really wanted was not a throne to tether her to one spot for the rest of her life. She wanted adventure and the opportunity to travel to far-off and exotic places. She felt confined in the castle.

  Slowly, Tierra turned away from the window, knowing that adventure was not coming her way any time soon. The extent of her “adventures” would be withstanding the petty machinations of her sister and hearing about the Groundbreather troubles faced by her parents.

  If she had believed she could determine anything useful about that Skychild spy who had everyone in an uproar, then she might have undertaken such an investigation for the excitement of it. Unfortunately, she knew little about Skychildren, much less what would interest them. Groundbreather views of the sky-dwellers tended to consist of half-formed images of tall men and women with fair complexions and short hair flying around in the skies all day.

  Tierra could ask one of the three slaves at the castle for further information on the Skychildren, but she doubted they would talk to her at length. They knew their place too well. And of course, there was also the fact that she would be in for a tongue-lashing if her mother ever discovered she was conversing with someone so far below her station. Groundbreather notions of proper behavior were quite clear when it came to determining whom one could speak to . . . and what situations were appropriate for such conversations. Having a tryst with a man who was not her fiancé would be enough for most women to be thrown out of their social circles. As the heiress apparent, however, Wisteria held a position which was enough to defend her from such drastic consequences. Tierra, on the other hand, was the second-born, and as such, her position afforded less protection. Not that Tierra would ever behave in such a manner.

  The sight of a ground-snake slithering near her foot caused Tierra to recoil slightly, and she growled at it without thinking, “Watch it!”

  The brown snake paused for a moment to look up at her before continuing on its way, unconcerned and not exerting itself to make any answer.

  Tierra huffed to herself in annoyance. Despite her ability to communicate with ground-animals, Tierra often found chills traveling down her spine whenever she focused on one of the snakes. Though the obedient reptiles only attacked when commanded by the reigning monarchs, there was always something unsettling about their presence. Unfortunately, they were found all over the castle. The only place they were never found was the room enclosing the Pool of Terrain.

  The Groundbreathers had built their castle around a small pool of water that had been placed there by their god and the father of their people, Terrain. He had given the water strange properties to assist in the fight against the descendants of his creation, the ungrateful Celesta. When the water was passed from mouth to mouth, it tied a couple together, giving them the ability to speak to one another telepathically and making their powers stronger. The only drawback was that the connection created between the pair was so strong that when one died, the other did as well. As a result, the water was rarely used and carefully guarded. As a member of the Groundbreather royalty, Tierra had access to the room, but even she could not use it unless she had someone with whom she shared suitable feelings to make it desirable. Those who wanted to use it had to petition the king and queen for the right to do so. Even then, those “others” tended to be limited to wealthy barons. Still, it had been a long time since Tierra had heard of anyone drinking from the water.

  Personally, Tierra found the room with the Pool of Terrain somewhat eerie. There was a strange silence that always hung in the air there, and the guards standing in the doorway never seemed to be caught up in idle chatter. Perhaps it was simply the strong imprint of Terrain’s godly presence on the water, or perhaps it was the fact that the large room was empty save for the pool and a shrine to Terrain. Whatever the reason, Tierra preferred to avoid the place.

  When Tierra reached her personal chambers, she slammed the door with childish finality and gave a heavy exhale. Shaking her head in frustration, she walked up to her desk while gazing at her unlikely pet, as if he might have all the solutions to her problems.

  Strix was an ugly bird that had been around the castle for some time. He had stayed with Tierra specifically since she had turned thirteen, though before that he had remained with her parents for a while. She had no idea what species he was. Groundbreathers were not exactly known for their avian interests. All she knew was that he was gray and brown, with beady eyes and a mottled beak. His talons seemed to belong more to a bird of prey than a creature whose song would please the ear, yet his voice was not like the call of a hawk or falcon; rather, it was the melodic voice of a songbird. Perhaps that was why she had not protested when the bird was assigned to her care.

  “Strix,” she said, fumbling in her desk drawer to grab a few of the nuts she kept stashed there as treats, “I am never getting married.”

  After finding what she was looking for, she walked over to the bird, who was sitting on his perch—a simple golden stand decorated with filigree—and looking at her with some interest. Since his wings were pinioned, there was no need for a cage, yet Tierra pitied him because of it. More than once, she had considered asking that his wings be healed and having a special coll
ar made for him much like the Skychildren wore to prevent him from flying away, but she was unsure whether such a collar would work the same way for a bird as it did for the Skychildren, so she had not done it. If the collar failed and she lost the bird, neither her mother nor her sister would ever let her forget it. Besides, she did not even know if the Groundbreather healers could heal his wings.

  Tierra held her hand out and let the bird eat the nuts from her palm as she continued to talk to him much as one would speak with a pet dog. “Every baron’s son I have ever met is either arrogant or empty-headed, and since my parents will never let me marry a commoner, I have no choice but to become an old maid!”

  When Strix finished eating the nuts, Tierra withdrew her hand and absentmindedly wiped it on her dress. “A boring old maid,” she amended. “Wisteria will marry some rich baron’s son and become queen, and I am doomed to live an adventure-free life here in the castle, talking to my pet bird and trying to stay out of my sister’s way. What a grand life I shall lead!”

  Celesta’s cry filled the air, mingling with the raucous bellow of the Fenik as she descended to the earth with the great beast. She alighted on the land to look upon the moon’s companion one last time before she destroyed it.

  But as she walked on the great work that she had created with the help of her son, she came upon a mighty oak standing with branches outstretched.

  Within the tree’s branches was a nest, for the flying creatures she had created had begun to adapt to their surroundings, and they had the ingenuity to create such places in which to rear their helpless young.

  Within the nest were two birds whose cries filled the air, for they were saddened that one of their brethren had tumbled to the ground.

  Celesta looked sadly upon them and thought to end their suffering by destroying them first of all the creatures in creation, but then a Groundwalker strode forward and knelt upon the ground, picking up the fledgling and cradling it to his chest.