On Wings of Air (Earth and Sky Book 1)

by Lelia Eye

Tierra nodded in agreement. While River had initially been as outspoken as Sequoia in suggesting that Tierra take Skye in hand, her comments had lately become more benign, much to Tierra’s mingled relief and amusement.

  “He does,” Tierra said. “But he also pairs that with a rather impressive level of pride and arrogance.”

  “I am not sure what he has to be arrogant about,” River said with a snort. “He behaves as though he believes himself to be a prince. I suppose that he is fairly good-looking, if you go for that wraithlike Skychild look.”

  “What is this I hear . . . you actually admit that he has some redeeming qualities?” Tierra jibed, surprised that River would admit that Skye was in any way anything other than repulsive.

  “I have eyes, Tierra,” River said, trying and failing to hide a smile. “Of course, I would never stoop to dallying with a Skychild animal, but you have to admit that his looks are the equal of anyone else in the castle. I imagine that all the Skychild ladies swoon when he walks by. Or maybe they would if he had not been stupid enough to allow himself to get caught.”

  Tierra grunted. She, too, had eyes, and she was well aware of how handsome Skye was. Of course, he ran the risk of having that pretty face of his marred with his continued defiance.

  “Princess Tierra,” a voice said.

  Tierra looked up to see a guard approaching. He bowed respectfully and then told her, “The queen requests your presence in the throne room.”

  “Did she say what it was about?”

  “No, Your Highness.”

  Sharing a glance with her friend, Tierra rose and left, hastily heading toward the center of the palace while praying the matter did not involve Skye.

  When Tierra arrived, she found her mother sitting in close conference with Wisteria. Tierra stepped toward them with a sinking feeling, wishing her day could have remained a peaceful one.

  “We have been speaking of you, sister,” Wisteria said with a sort of dark glee.

  Sequoia gave her a sharp look, obviously having wanted to initiate the conversation herself. Wisteria subsided, but her gleeful grin did not change in the slightest.

  After giving her firstborn a final glare, Sequoia addressed Tierra. “We have indeed been speaking about you, Tierra. We have been discussing you and that recalcitrant slave of yours. Your sister suggested you need a husband to keep you in line, and upon thinking about the issue further, I have come to realize she has a point.”

  “What?” Tierra exclaimed. “You want to marry me off without so much as a by-your-leave?”

  “As your mother and the queen of this land,” Sequoia said in a tone laced with warning, “I can do what I believe is best for you. And lately, Baron Sorrel has been taking a particular interest in you.”

  Tierra’s blood ran cold. Barron Sorrel, though one of the wealthiest Groundbreathers in the kingdom, was known for his cruelty and unabashed womanizing. Marriage to such a man would be worse than death for someone like Tierra. In fact, she would sooner run off a cliff than tie herself to Baron Sorrel through marriage.

  “No, please, Mother!” she begged, tempted to fall to her knees. “You cannot make me marry that . . . that monster, Mother!”

  “If you are capable of taking care of yourself without the assistance of a man, then you must prove that to me,” Sequoia said, crossing her arms.

  Tierra threw the most venomous glare she could manage at her sister. It took a great deal to make Tierra truly angry, but now she could feel the strength of her rage as if it were a physical thing.

  “I can assure you, Mother,” Tierra said, gritting her teeth and resisting the urge to launch herself at Wisteria, “I will prove to you once and for all that I am able to control my slave. You can tell Baron Sorrel to find some other unlucky soul to torture.”

  Though Tierra wanted to storm away, she remained in place, staring at her mother and waiting to ensure that an engagement would not be planned the moment she left the room.

  Sequoia held her gaze and then gave a nod of agreement, causing the tension to drain from Tierra’s body.

  When Tierra left the room, however, her anxiety level grew once more. If she wanted to have any measure of happiness in her future, she was going to have to make some changes. While she had wanted to marry for love ever since she was a young girl, she had always known that her position as princess had severely curtailed the number of prospective husbands set before her. Yet she had never dreamed that her mother might intend to give her no choice at all in the matter. Her anger flared up once again. If not for Skye, she would not be in this position!

  Tierra returned to her room. It was fortunate that River was not waiting for her there, as Tierra would rather the other young woman not be present for the conversation that was about to take place.

  She sent someone to fetch Skye and then waited.

  When he finally arrived, his movements were stiff, and she pursed her lips. A part of her wanted to pity him and his pain, yet she let that part of her be swallowed up by anger.

  “Yes, Princess?” the Skychild asked, cocking his head. His typical arrogant look slipped as he noticed the expression on her face.

  “Tonight, Groundbreathers and Groundwalkers will gather together to dance in honor of Terrain.”

  “Your Groundbreather god,” Skye said flatly. “Yes, I know. You do it every week.”

  “I do not believe you have ever witnessed the dance. Tonight, I want you there to see it.”

  Skye grimaced in distaste. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d much rather not watch such heathen activities.”

  “And if it is not all the same to me?” Tierra snapped. “When your mistress commands you to do something, you do it.”

  Skye’s brow wrinkled as he looked at her. “Are you all right, Princess? I know you were called in to see your mother. Did she upset you?”

  “Yes, she did,” Tierra said curtly, hating that he was able to read her so well. “Skye, the time has come for you to actually listen to what everyone has been trying to beat into your head. Whatever vaulted position you held among the Skychildren does not concern me in the slightest. Here, you are nothing more than a slave. Slaves do what their masters say without question . . . and without cocky looks like the one you are always wearing.”

  Skye snorted and shook his head. “She’s really got you in a tizzy this time, doesn’t she?”

  “I am being utterly serious,” Tierra said, her voice low and hard. “I have put up with the fallout from everyone you have angered for long enough!”

  “What did she threaten you with, anyway?”

  “Skye, stop it!” she shouted. “Stop acting like you know everything! What you do not seem to understand is that this is what your life will be for as long as you live. You will never go back to your home. You will never leave the castle unless I leave to go live somewhere else, in which case you will simply follow me to your new home. The circumstances will be the same. If you continue like this, then one day you will go too far, and you will be put to death. So shut your mouth, keep your head down, and stop acting like everyone ought to be kissing your feet! If you do not stop, then I will have no choice but to take action.”

  Skye looked at her blankly, hiding his emotions behind a mask.

  Tierra steeled herself before speaking again. The almost-camaraderie they had shared was bound to end eventually, and she would be the one to end it . . . before her life was ruined alongside his. “I expect you to be there tonight, and I expect you to behave. Do not meet anyone’s eyes, and leap to do whatever is asked of you. Am I clear, slave?” Even in the midst of her upset, she hated for that word to come off her tongue. But she was done coddling him. Enough was enough.

  Terrain looked upon the majesty of the skies and the beauty of the creatures in it. They filled his eyes, and jealousy welled up within his chest, causing darkness to flood his heart. He cared not that his mother had created the Groundwalkers for him; the power of flight enthralled him, and he c
ould do naught but watch the bounty of the creatures living above the earth.

  Generations of Groundwalkers lived and died, and still the dark-eyed Terrain stared at the beautiful creatures his mother had made.

  With a violence of motion, Terrain leaped up and caught a flying reptile from the sky. In fascination, he watched its struggles, sensing its fear, and then, with a sudden epiphany, he removed its wings and threw it to the ground. As it scuttled away and hid among some rocks, he smiled upon it and called it a lizard. If he could not live amongst the creatures of the sky, they would forfeit their wings and live with him.

  Terrain took more of Celesta’s flying creatures and ripped their wings away from them. He threw them to the ground so they would be with him instead of her. These became the impure animals of the land, tainted creatures who were stripped of Celesta’s majesty.

  —The Book of Celesta

  CHAPTER

  FOURTEEN

  Betrayal

  It was with a towering resentment that Skye made his way to the grounds outside the castle where the night’s activities were slated to take place. Tierra was obviously upset by some sort of confrontation with her mother, and for whatever reason, she was taking it out on Skye. He, in turn, had vented all his troubles to Gusty before descending into a seething silence.

  “Don’t worry about it, Skye,” Gusty said from his side.

  Skye affixed Gusty with an unfriendly stare and continued walking. But Gusty was apparently not about to leave it there.

  “She had to do something.”

  “Did she?” Skye asked casually, but with a hard undertone to his voice.

  Gusty shook his head. “Skye, you may be a prince—”

  He broke off when Skye glared and motioned for him to be silent. Skye looked around, but no one was nearby to attend to his conversation with Gusty. Regardless, he could not have the Groundbreathers discover his identity as a prince, or the situation would become much more difficult. Not to mention that his chances of escape would plummet.

  “As I said,” Gusty continued in a much lower tone, “you may be a prince in the sky realm, but here you’re nothing more than a hated Skychild slave. You’re less than an animal to them—worse than that, even, as at least most animals don’t actively attempt to harm them.”

  “That’s no excuse for them to keep slaves.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Gusty replied. “But you have to admit that our people are not blameless in the trouble we have with the Groundbreathers.”

  Skye grunted. He was still of the opinion that the Groundbreathers were far more culpable in this matter. But it was something to consider at another time—a time, perhaps, when he was not quite so annoyed with his so-called “owner.”

  “You’ll have to accept it, Skye,” Gusty continued. “Your father will not rescue you, and you’ll spend the rest of your life here. You’re not a prince any longer.”

  Stopping Gusty with an arm held in front of him, Skye looked at the other man, his mind blazing with affront. Whatever else happened, Skye would not allow his hope to be extinguished, and Gusty, regardless of the fact that he appeared to be a spineless and beaten excuse for a Skychild, should know this.

  “I am still a prince, and I will not stand for this,” Skye growled. “I won’t be here forever, and I intend to oppose my father and the Seneschal with everything I have. If you are not with me, then you will at least keep your opinions to yourself.”

  Gusty merely spread his hands out in concession and dropped the subject. Skye, after glancing at him once, returned his attention to his current situation.

  The clearing in which the Groundbreather dance would occur was a small distance from the town beside the castle. The light had already fled, leaving behind a night which was warm but not uncomfortable. Overhead, the sky was clear for the most part, though off in the distance, Skye could see the large mass of the cloud on which his father’s palace stood. Why the sky palace always hovered in the general area of the Groundbreather castle had never been understood, but on most days, all Skye had to do was walk to the edge of the palace to be able to look down on the Groundbreather castle. Of course, rarely had he ever felt the desire to do so. He had generally preferred to act as if the Skychildren’s enemies did not exist.

  Though there were many spectators, Gusty and Skye were the only Skychildren in attendance at the religious event, and they chose a spot that was close enough to see the dance clearly, but as far away as Skye dared to go without inciting Tierra’s anger. The dancers soon took up their positions, and within a few moments, a small group of Groundwalkers started up the music, and the dancers began to move. It was a complex sort of dance that included several concentric circles of people moving in rings, sometimes in tandem, sometimes in opposite directions. It had a grace which was unmistakable, and though Skye had always avoided it as a heathen observance, he was forced to admit to himself that there was a form of beauty in what he was witnessing.

  Wanting to break the spell which was settling over him, Skye turned his attention to Gusty while ostensibly still watching the spectacle.

  “You never told me how you were captured,” he commented.

  “It’s not very interesting.”

  But Skye was curious, and he pressed further. “I understand why you don’t want to talk about it. But surely it wouldn’t hurt to tell me.”

  “It’s a pretty standard story, I think,” Gusty said. “I came down with some friends to raid a Groundbreather farm. We grabbed some apples and a few bags of grain, but I wasn’t quick enough to get away from their dirt cages, and I got caught. Normally, captured Skychildren are kept by whoever caught them, but in my case, the Groundbreathers decided to present me to the queen, who accepted me as a slave for her daughter.”

  “And how long have you been here?”

  “About two years.”

  Skye nodded thoughtfully. It was indeed a typical story. Several Skychildren went missing every year due to similar circumstances, and the tales brought back by their companions usually mirrored Gusty’s. To be frank, Skye was more of the opinion that such unfortunates as Gusty should be rescued rather than left to their fates, but the traditions of the Skychildren were held to be sacred. Regardless, it was something he would have to consider changing once he became king.

  Further conversation between them was interrupted when a group of Groundbreathers moved closer to their position, and Skye began to watch the scene once more. As he examined the dancers, he noticed that Tierra was in the outermost circle. His eyes followed her as she moved along the line, noting her graceful steps and the joy which gleamed in her eyes and her face. She appeared luminous, her whole person shining in the light of the full moon. In that moment, Skye admitted to himself that her dark looks were very appealing indeed.

  Scowling at the realization that he might be more attracted to a Groundbreather than he had ever been to another Skychild, Skye stared at the princess, his eyes accusing her of trying to draw his attention. He would never soil himself with a filthy Groundbreather, whether he found her attractive or not. The thought was unacceptable.

  As the future prince of the Skychildren, he would one day marry the daughter of a Skychild noble. That had always been the path before him. He simply had to surmount the problem of returning to the sky realm first.

  He turned away from the dance, not wanting to look upon the Groundbreathers any longer. If Tierra saw him averting his gaze so overtly, she would be angry, but he did not need to be concerned with how she felt. Before long, he would be leaving this place. And then, Celesta willing, he would never have to lay eyes on a Groundbreather ever again. The thought was enough to bring a smile to his face.

  “Your Highness,” Gusty murmured, likely trying to prompt him to watch the dance once more.

  Skye considered remaining as he was, but he at last turned with a sigh. He thought he saw Tierra give him a disapproving look, but it might have been a trick of the moonlight. He crossed his
arms and stared blankly as the circles began to converge, the dancers passing between each other, an intricate weave of organized chaos. The music grew louder and faster, and then it abruptly cut off. As one mass, the Groundbreathers raised their arms and shouted their praises, their joy rapturous and uncontained.

  Skye could not help but make a comparison with his own people as he gazed upon the Groundbreathers. Whereas the Skychildren tended to be fairly active, taking pleasure in flying through the skies on their gliders, they were much more serene in worship, most simply meditating in an attempt to commune with their goddess on a personal level. The approach of the Groundbreathers seemed to be the opposite, and Skye thought, with some contempt, that it was a much more visible form, as though each Groundbreather wished the fervency of his adulation to be noticed by others. Skye much preferred the Skychild method, yet he did admire the earnestness of the Groundbreathers, even if they were worshiping a reprehensible god.

  * * *

  When the observance was complete, Skye returned to Tierra’s room and waited as she had instructed him. He had been tempted to feign forgetfulness, but he thought it best to tread more carefully considering the mood she had been in. Still, when she finally entered, he found it difficult to suppress the urge to say something sarcastic. He told himself he only needed to survive a few minutes in her presence, as she would retire soon.

  “Clean up after Strix,” Tierra said. Her voice was set in an imperious tone, but Skye had to suppress a grin, as she was obviously fighting the urge to add a “please” at the end. The Groundbreather dance seemed to have improved her mood somewhat, yet it had not shaken her determination to put him in his place.

  Skye moved to do as she had said. So this is how she wants it to be, he thought in amusement. He could go along with it, yet he knew she would not be able to hold on to this angry and demanding persona for long. She was not like her mother.