On Wings of Air (Earth and Sky Book 1)

by Lelia Eye

  Tierra’s expression softened, and she gave a tight nod. “So we are both descended from Groundwalkers according to your traditions. That does make sense. And it also agrees with our beliefs.” She made no further comment, though Skye was certain she believed her own god had the power to create life, just as he believed it was Celesta’s province alone.

  “At least we can agree on that much,” Skye said. He was not about to touch on the particulars of the genesis of Terrain, as nothing could be gained from starting the argument that would produce. Skye did not want to upset Tierra, and after having spent many weeks among her people, he did have to admit that Groundbreathers were not completely without redeeming qualities.

  “What of your own traditions?” Skye asked.

  Tierra looked away for a moment, and Skye had the feeling she did not want to start an argument either. “They are not important right now. Perhaps I shall tell you one day.” When she turned back to him, it was with a little impatience. “I think right now you should finish explaining why the Fenik is so dangerous.”

  “It’s actually fairly simple. The Fenik was created by an angry goddess to destroy the world. It still possesses that power and would be a terrible weapon in the hands of someone with malicious intentions. That is why the Groundbreathers wanted to take it away from the Skychildren.”

  “But how could my people have known about it?” Tierra asked. “It was never used against them.”

  “Our traditions indicate that Terrain knew of it and told them, as he wanted to use it to destroy the sky realm. Regardless, the Groundbreathers did take it from the Skychildren, and we can only assume that they knew the danger it represented.”

  Tierra bit her lip, looking worried. “Do you think the Skychildren would use it against my people if it were ever found again?”

  “I can’t be certain. I would just as soon assume that a Groundbreather who discovered it might be able to figure out how to use it against my people.” Skye favored her with a pointed look. “In truth, it would be best if the creature is never found by either of our peoples, as you said. If it remains lost, it can’t be used against anyone.”

  “If it was found, could it be destroyed?” Tierra asked.

  “I don’t know. But I suspect that it’s invulnerable. It was created by a goddess, after all. Can mortals undo what the gods have wrought? But if there’s even a sliver of information about it lying around for someone to find . . . then there may not be peace between our peoples for long.”

  He wanted to say more, but he hesitated. He thought Tierra might have more information for him, but he hated to draw her attention unnecessarily. Still, he doubted she was about to start questing for the Fenik, so he was likely safe from that quarter. “The . . . creature you mentioned in the mountains—are a lot of people aware of its existence? Do you know anything about it besides what you told me?”

  “I overheard some Groundwalkers talking about it once,” Tierra said. “One of them was convinced it was a Skychild prank, but the other thought it had to be a dangerous beast.”

  “Did they mention anything about what it might look like?”

  She shook her head. “Unfortunately, I did not listen to them for long. It did not seem to affect me. Besides, I am almost certain they knew nothing about it other than hearsay.”

  “All right,” Skye said, nodding thoughtfully. “Well, if you hear more, will you let me know?” This further complicated his escape plans. After he returned to the sky realm, he might have to eventually fly down to the mountains in search of the Fenik, which was not exactly a pleasing prospect. But he had to do it. While he did not want the Fenik’s power, he feared what might happen if someone like the Seneschal got his hands on it. Hawkins would likely not be able to use it himself, but if his hold over Skye’s father grew much stronger, then he could control what the Fenik did anyway. And though Skye hated to admit it, he did not want the Groundbreathers to be destroyed. He doubted the Seneschal would feel any such compunction.

  “Yes, I will,” Tierra said. “Maybe a little careful questioning will reveal more about it.”

  He and Tierra talked for a few minutes more before she left, and Skye returned to cleaning once again. But he could feel eyes on him, and at last, he turned to look at Strix. “What is it?”

  “The girl may know little about the Fenik,” the bird said, “but her parents are a different story. They know more about the Fenik than they would have anyone believe.”

  “What do you mean?” Skye asked cautiously. “How do you know that?”

  “I mean that they are hiding the Fenik somewhere nearby. People will say anything around me. No one in this castle believes that a bird could possibly hold even a shred of sentience.”

  “No one except Tierra,” Skye could not help but say.

  “She is better than others, yes,” Strix said. “But her parents wouldn’t trust her with information this valuable. They wouldn’t even trust her sister yet. Not until she is older.”

  “Then where is it?”

  The bird gave a remarkable impression of a shrug. “I don’t know. But you must keep your eyes open. There is more going on here than you can see.”

  Skye looked down at the floor, deep in thought. He had a feeling that Strix was right.

  And these are the names of the ten children born of Celesta and Sterling, whom she loved. There was Zephyr, the firstborn; Sirius, the steady; Truenest, the faithful; Raine, the tender-hearted; Raven, the righteous; Fowler, the hopeful; Cyclone, the strong; Starr, the bright-eyed; Covey, the courageous; and Wren, the wise.

  They formed unions with Groundwalkers, and from them were born many children. Celesta smiled upon all of her descendants and taught them many things: how to lift themselves in the air, how to make crafts to bear them up when they tired, how to shoot with a bow, and how to appreciate the beauty of the new world.

  And she called them the Skychildren, for they were her children, born to live in the firmament.

  —The Book of Celesta

  CHAPTER

  EIGHTEEN

  Archery

  While Tierra did spend a lot of time in the castle, Skye believed she was making a conscious effort to spend more time outside so that he might be afforded further glimpses of the brilliant blue sky above them. One day, she asked him to watch her practice with her sword, claiming she needed him to set up a dummy for her to target and to carry her wooden practice swords (which she said would occasionally splinter). They both knew it was a pretense, yet Skye had learned that he should not sneer at the opportunity to do something that did not require any difficult work.

  And so they went to a secluded area in the castle courtyard, where Skye immediately set up the dummy.

  “I’m surprised you were taught to use a sword,” Skye commented after he had finished his task.

  Tierra raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

  “Well, I haven’t seen any female Iron Swords, for one thing. For another, I don’t think I’ve seen any other female Groundbreathers handle weapons. You’ll pardon my saying so, but apart from the case of your mother’s . . . rather forceful nature, yours seems like a patriarchal society.”

  “My mother and my sister can both handle a sword,” Tierra said, “though Wisteria is not very skilled. She believes that a sword is a base weapon.”

  Skye bit back a comment on Wisteria’s natural laziness being a factor in the crown princess’s dislike. Instead, he said, “Are a lot of females taught how to fight, then?”

  “No. High-ranking females, however, are taught different forms of self-defense. It all stems back to a Groundbreather princess who was taken away by a Skychild who tried to force her to marry him.”

  Skye raised an eyebrow. “A Skychild actually wanted to marry a Groundbreather?”

  “According to our traditions, yes. As a result, princesses and the daughters of barons are usually taught how to protect themselves. I actually insisted on learning how to use a blade e
arly on. My mother disapproved of the intensity of my interest, but my father indulged me.”

  Skye gave a thoughtful nod and stepped back, making a gesture for her to commence with her drills. As she began, he wiped at the sweat accumulating on his neck. Moments later, he rolled up his shirt sleeves in an attempt to provide some relief. The approaching summer meant the air was much warmer than it had been when Skye had arrived on the ground world—and much warmer than it would have been on any but the hottest days in the sky realm.

  Tierra’s sword-drills were quite typical—yawn-inducing, repetitive, and lackluster—and Skye found himself paying more attention once Tierra took a few practice stabs at the straw dummy he had put in place for her.

  After she had lunged a few times, he could not help releasing a chuckle.

  She glanced over at him, lowering her sword, and frowned. “What?”

  “It’s amusing, that’s all.”

  “What do you find so amusing?” she asked, her voice tinged with irritation.

  He had to hide his grin. He was not sure why, but he enjoyed trying to get under the princess’s skin. It usually took a lot to stir her from her typical calm and kind disposition, but sometimes he was able to find the sort of thing to properly irk her.

  In answer to her question about what he found amusing, he said, “The Groundbreathers’ preferred choice of weapon. While a sword can be useful, it’s actually rather clumsy. Bows are a much more elegant weapon, and it takes a lot more skill to use a bow than a sword. Any heathen can poke at a dummy with a blade. It takes finesse and careful practice to be able to hit a target from a distance with an arrow.”

  “You seem to have a rather simplistic view of swordfighting,” Tierra told him with narrowed eyes. “What you just said could not be further from the truth. With swords, you have to worry about footwork and speed, and you must learn to anticipate what your opponent is doing. Archery might be good for killing a deer, but what use is it in battle? Using a bow is much less personal, and the path of the arrow is often left to chance, as the wind can interfere with its course. Furthermore, an arrow will more than likely fail to puncture the armor of the intended target.”

  She looked at him and shook her head. “Besides, what pride is there to be taken in besting someone from a distance? If you match that person face-to-face, pitting your sword against theirs, then you know that whatever happens, your rise and fall are dependent only on yourself—not on the chance that someone picked you out of a group to put an arrow in your heart.”

  “And this is why the Groundbreathers should never be allowed to control the Fenik,” Skye said dryly. “Must everything be about war?”

  “They are called ‘weapons,’ Skye,” Tierra said, her tone suggesting that she thought him daft. “If not for war or killing prey, then what is the purpose of swords and bows? Or are you about to tell me that this ties into Skychild art?”

  “You could say that, I suppose,” he said, enjoying the surprised look on her face. “Skychildren appreciate elegance . . . and there is an elegance to archery that is completely lacking in swordplay.”

  “If you honestly believe that, then Skychildren must not be taught about footwork,” Tierra said stubbornly. “Any Groundbreather knows that swordfighting is like a dance. I bet the reason you hate swords so much is because you are unable to use one.”

  “Just because I think swords are an inferior weapon doesn’t mean that I don’t know how to handle one,” Skye said with a flash of annoyance. “I’ve been trained to use a variety of weapons.”

  “If that is so, prove it to me,” Tierra said, pointing to the sword rack. “Grab one and show me how a Skychild holds a sword.”

  * * *

  As Tierra had anticipated, it was a challenge which Skye was unable to resist, though he seemed hesitant at first. But she knew him well enough by now to be certain that his pride would not allow him to pass up such a blatant challenge.

  A part of her wondered what she was doing. Her mother would certainly disapprove of Skye participating in such an activity, even if he was only using a practice sword. But since Skye had arrived on the ground world, Tierra had become more willing to flout the rules which governed Groundbreather society and the castle her mother ruled over. He had changed her, and she felt certain she had, in her own way, changed him.

  Skye returned Tierra’s steady stare for a moment, and then he turned to the practice swords standing on a rack nearby. He allowed a critical eye to wander over them before he chose one. After giving it a couple of experimental swings, he turned back to Tierra.

  “Are you ready, Princess?” he asked, a sarcastic edge to his voice.

  “If you are,” Tierra replied, keeping her own voice nonchalant. In truth, however, his tone grated on her nerves, and she was eager to show this cocky Skychild just how misplaced his arrogance was.

  “Very well,” Skye said as he assumed a fighting stance.

  Their first few passes showed that he did, indeed, possess a familiarity with the weapon in his hand. He was quick and agile, and the grace of his movements taught her that he knew the best way to play to his strengths and avoid his weaknesses. There were those in the castle who could use their great physical strength to devastating effect on those with whom they fought. Skye was of a much more slender build than those men and women, and though he did not lack strength, still he relied more on his speed and footwork than on brute force.

  In this, Skye and Tierra were well-matched. Tierra, owning a rather slender and petite frame herself—unlike Wisteria, who, for a woman, was large and brawny—always fought using speed and grace, avoiding her opponents’ blows instead of meeting strength with strength.

  They traded probing passes for several moments, Tierra testing out Skye’s abilities as he no doubt did the same to her. The look of concentration on his face bespoke his competitive nature as he sought an opening in her defenses.

  “You do know how to use a sword,” Tierra said at last.

  Skye grinned at her, obviously affected by the spirit of the match. “I told you I knew how. Cirrus, the . . . friend I told you about . . . well, he taught me a lot about fighting.”

  Catching an overhead swipe on her sword, Tierra pirouetted to the side and lunged forward, trying to catch him off-guard. But Skye danced nimbly away, evading her attack and then pressing his own with a series of strokes.

  Smiling in satisfaction, Tierra danced backward, drawing him in, and when he reached for her, she stepped forward inside his guard and knocked his sword from his grasp with a flick of her wrist. Skye pulled his hand back with a pained gasp while his sword fell from fingers that were no doubt stinging from the blow.

  Triumphantly, Tierra raised her sword and pointed it at his chest and said, “I win,” all while favoring him with a sweet smile. “You allowed yourself to get overextended, I am afraid. Maybe you do not have the skill you thought you have.”

  Skye only shrugged, though he rubbed his bruised knuckles absently. “As I said, I can fight with a blade, but I’m certainly no master. Yet I’m positive you couldn’t match me with a bow.”

  Tierra looked at him with some curiosity. She had thought to explain what had caused him to lose their sparring match, but his words intrigued her. She still would not agree with him about the bow being more “elegant” than a simple sword, but she had only actually shot a bow a time or two—with extremely limited results—and she was curious to see how accurately he could use a bow.

  “Then you should show me,” she said with a smile.

  “I suppose it’s only fair,” Skye said slowly.

  Understanding his hesitation, Tierra hastened to assure him. “You should not get in trouble for it, Skye. After all, I will be with you, and I am certain you will not do anything you would regret.”

  Nodding, Skye said, “You are right. Even if I were to try to shoot you, the Iron Swords would kill me before I could escape. I don’t have a death wish, as you well know.”

&
nbsp; “Then there is no problem.”

  Their next activity agreed upon, Tierra motioned for Skye to return his practice sword to the rack, and they departed for the archery range.

  “How did you become so skilled with a bow?” Tierra asked, assuming he would not boast without good reason.

  “Most Skychildren are taught from an early age,” Skye said. “We have a natural affinity with the wind which helps make our shots more accurate. We can also imbue our arrows with our power to increase their accuracy further.”

  “You will excuse me if I do not find that at all sporting,” Tierra said, making a face at the thought of such blatant cheating.

  “And I would not disagree with you. Personally, I prefer to use my own skill to make my shots, so I rarely use power-imbued arrows. I also refrain from guiding the arrows with my powers.”

  Their arrival at the archery range was met with a little curiosity by the handful of Iron Swords who were already there. Skye did a credible job of ignoring the looks he received, and Tierra stepped forward to retrieve a bow and a few arrows for his use. She knew better than to ask Skye to do it, lest the guards perceive him as a threat.

  After a moment of testing the bow she handed him and sighting along the arrows, Skye took his place in front of one of the targets and began to shoot.

  The first shot went directly into the center of the target, and the following arrows hit so close to the first as to make no difference whatsoever. His skill was beyond what he had stated, and Tierra watched with admiration as he put arrow after arrow in a tight cluster in the center of the target.

  “How do I know you are not using your powers?” she asked suspiciously after he had shot about half a dozen arrows.