by Lelia Eye
“It’s true, Your Highness,” Gusty spoke up.
She looked at him for a moment before saying, “Very well. Carry on then, I guess.”
Both Skychildren nodded and began to walk away once more. She stood there staring after them for a few seconds, deep in thought.
Once Skye’s initial fit of temper over his most recent beating had subsided, the situation between him and Tierra had grown much easier to handle. She was still ashamed of herself for what had happened. She had relished the feel of his arms around her and the intimacy of their interaction at the shooting grounds, and Skye had paid the price for it. She should have realized that Wisteria was always hovering around trying to catch him or Tierra doing something they should not. Extra vigilance would be called for in the future.
But though the outward interactions between Tierra and Skye had returned to what they had been before, the added level of comfort and friendship they had shared was now gone. Tierra, though she had not previously known it existed, missed that aspect of their relationship fiercely. The Skychild had become a friend, and she wished things had not changed between them. But he had erected walls to protect himself from what he perceived to be the next inevitable beating. She could not say that she blamed him, much though she missed the loss of their camaraderie. Perhaps it was even inevitable. She had always felt there was something he was hiding from her—something about his life he always kept guarded.
He was still scrupulously polite to her, and he continued to give her the same deference in public that he had before, which was certainly well, as even Wisteria appeared to have nothing to accuse him of. That did not stop the glitter of his eyes as he watched Wisteria whenever she was near. Tierra, who did not miss the way his mouth tightened when he was in Wisteria’s presence, suspected that he had marked her sister for vengeance. The reaction was largely unnoticed by everyone else, but Tierra knew that her sister had gained an enemy. How Skye intended to do anything as a slave was a mystery, though of course, he had announced his intention to escape before. If he did make it back to the sky, Tierra did not think he would be foolish enough to return to the ground for the sole purpose of wreaking vengeance on her sister, but the expression on his face did make her wonder at times.
Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done to fix the relationship between Skye and Tierra. She could not blame him for his reaction; it was only natural. What she could not determine was why she felt so bereft. And why it felt like she had lost her best friend.
Trying to shake herself out of her melancholy, she began to walk down the hallway once more. She had actually been looking for Skye, but now that she had found—and then lost—him, she had forgotten why. It was best for both of them that she simply leave him to his own devices.
* * *
Skye was not pleased to come across Tierra in the hallway—she was able to read him much better than any of the other Groundbreathers could—but when they separated, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. He continued to his room, which he and Gusty quickly entered. Skye closed the door and turned to his companion.
“So, did you get it?” he asked Gusty.
Grinning, the other man pulled out a squat earthenware container from beneath his arm and brandished it in the air like a trophy. “Sure did. They have several, so I doubt they’ll miss this one.”
“You do know this first step was a gentle breeze compared to the gale we’re going to stir up,” Skye warned.
“Yes, I know,” Gusty said with a sudden frown. “Are you really sure about this? You’re certain what your limits are with the collar?”
“I’m sure. I’ve been practicing, so there’s no need to worry. Everything is going to be fine.”
“I just . . . I hate that it has to be like this. You don’t think we could just threaten Wisteria to get her to take off our collars?”
Skye shook his head. “Believe me when I say I’ve considered every angle. Wisteria would rather bring the entire castle down on our heads than do anything to assist us in escaping—even if it did mean her death. The plan stands as it is.”
Gusty sighed in resignation. “All right.”
Though Skye feigned unwavering resolution, he was having his own struggles with his conscience, and as the scheme moved closer to its conclusion, he found the guilt welling up more strongly within him. Yet there was no other option. He had wracked his brain for alternatives, and none had presented themselves. He had to return to his people. All other considerations paled in comparison.
“You should return to work,” he told his companion. “I’ll take care of this part of the plan. And don’t forget that I need you ready at midnight three days from now so that you can follow me to Tierra’s room to collect Strix.”
“Do we really need to take the bird with us?”
“He’s been assisting with the plan,” Skye reminded Gusty, “and he deserves the right to fly freely, too.”
“I guess you’re right,” Gusty said, though he looked unconvinced.
“And what are you supposed to do when you reach the castle entrance?” Skye prompted.
“I’m supposed to distract the Iron Swords with a gust of wind and then rush outside to wait for you.”
“I think it’d be better if you knocked them out instead of distracting them, but do whatever you think you can.”
“All right.”
Skye studied Gusty for a moment. Though the other Skychild was quick to fear and anxiety, Skye thought he could count on him to do this much. The prospect of returning to the sky was a considerable inducement.
Gusty began to leave the room, and Skye repeated, “Midnight.”
“Midnight.”
* * *
Though Skye had wanted no delays in his plan, he had given himself a few days to test the potency of the concoction Gusty had swiped from the healers’ ward. He wanted everything to be well-planned, and he had no intention of risking failure due to an unfortunate timing error.
Finally, however, a little before midnight on the night in question, Skye was hurrying down the castle corridors with the nervous Gusty following behind him.
Skye himself felt calm and collected. He was aware of every nook necessary to hide from the guards on their patrols, and he also knew what their schedules were. As he moved down the hallway, he saw a pair of garms yawning, and he smiled to himself at the realization that the sleeping powder he had put in the dogs’ food was beginning to take effect. Since the garms ate twice a day, he had been able to do some experimentation. Now, it was paying off. Everything was proceeding as it was supposed to.
The Iron Swords’ patrols in the royal wing were much more frequent than in most places in the castle, so sneaking into Tierra’s room was a bit of a challenge. In the end, however, they stepped into Tierra’s room, Skye softly closing the door behind them. He put a finger to his mouth and pointed at the ground. Gusty nodded in silent understanding, and Skye began to move forward alone. He knew Tierra’s room better than Gusty did, so it only made sense for Skye to be the one to fetch the bird.
Tierra and Strix slept in the same room, likely because the bird was inclined to sing in the morning, so as Skye tiptoed into the princess’s personal chambers, he knew he was in an especially precarious position. One wrong move in the dark, and his carefully constructed plans could very well fall through.
Strix was already awake and watchful, and he did not make a sound as Skye reached out with his gloved hand.
Once Strix was firmly attached to his hand, he returned to Gusty, who was also wearing a glove on his left hand. The day before, Skye had hammered into Gusty’s head how to make his way to the castle entrance once the guards passed Tierra’s room. Now, Gusty took the bird from Skye and waited for the signal to exit the room.
After setting his glove aside, Skye moved to stand by the door, listening for the sound of footsteps in the hallway. If Gusty was seen by a guard in the corridors at such an unusual hour, he was going to say that S
trix had been making an awful noise and that the princess had requested he be removed from her room until he calmed down. However, it would be much better if he was not caught, as that would lead to other awkward questions . . . such as why Gusty rather than Skye was being ordered about by Tierra.
It felt like a wait of hours. Skye kept glancing over at the sleeping princess, expecting her to awaken at any moment and demand to know what he was doing in her room, and his heart seemed to pound noisily in his chest. At last, however, he heard the sounds of the Iron Swords patrolling outside in the corridor.
Skye listened as they faded. Once he was certain the guards had turned the corner, he motioned for Gusty to depart. Skye opened the door quietly, and Gusty slipped out. Skye then closed the door behind him.
Now alone with the princess, Skye counted down from fifty, ensuring Gusty had a head-start. When he reached zero, he moved to stand by Tierra’s bed and gazed down on her. She looked so peaceful and vulnerable in her sleep, and her beauty—he had to admit to himself that she was beautiful—was only enhanced when she was at repose. Skye hated what he had to do to her.
But now was not the time for guilt. The sky realm beckoned, and Skye needed to return. It was time to move.
* * *
A sudden noise startled Tierra from her sleep, and she sat up in confusion, looking about her room. It was dark, and nothing appeared to be out of place. She began to wonder if she had dreamed the sound when she saw the door crack open and highlight a shadowy form. She recognized the intruder in an instant.
“Skye?” she asked with some confusion. “What are you doing?”
“Sorry, Princess,” he replied, his voice barely audible as he passed through the door on his way to leave the room. “I told you I would escape. I’m taking Strix back to the sky realm where he can fly free.”
For a moment, all Tierra could do was stare stupidly at the closed door.
Then reason reasserted itself. She sprang from her bed, intent upon preventing Skye’s escape. She was wearing her nightgown, of course, but there was no help for it—she could not exactly dress herself in time to stop him. She did, however, grab the sword hidden in her room, knowing she would need to convince him that trying to escape was a poor idea. Then she was out the door and in pursuit of the Skychild.
The corridor was empty—Skye had no doubt timed his attempt so that no Iron Swords would be nearby to stop him—and Tierra made a noise of aggravation. But rather than shout for a guard, as she knew she should, she continued through the castle toward the exit, fuming all the way. It was just like that reckless Skychild to attempt the impossible. Hopefully, she would be able to recapture him with a minimum of fuss; otherwise, he would be in for a much more severe beating than he had ever experienced before.
Unfortunately, things did not quite work out the way she thought they would. For one thing, she noticed that all the garms were sleeping, though some of them should have been on watch duty. Tierra knew it was not a coincidence; Skye must have found a way to put them to sleep in order to aid his escape. The second thing which worried her was that the two guards on duty at the entrance were slumped up against the side of the gate, unconscious. If they had seen Skye, then there was no help for it—tonight’s adventure would certainly reach her mother’s ears. But perhaps Tierra could escape a similar reprimand if she could bring Skye back herself. At the very least, Wisteria would not be able to berate her for allowing the Skychild to escape without attempting to stop him.
To complicate matters even further, a fog had descended upon the castle, and it was so thick that Tierra found it difficult to see anything through it. Skye could be hiding anywhere in the courtyard, and she would not be able to see him until she was almost on him. She did not think he would hurt her, but if he was desperate enough, his actions would be unpredictable.
At least the gate was still closed. She had not heard it opening as she had approached, and though she knew that Skychildren could carry themselves up on the wind, she thought the castle walls were high enough that the slave collar would cut off Skye’s powers before he could manage to get over them. That meant he still had to be in the courtyard.
“All right, Skye,” she said, gazing around. “Your adventure is over. I am here to bring you back.”
When the great cry of the Fenik sounded, the theft was discovered, and a great lamentation was heard over the clouds and in the furthest reaches of the sky realm. And though the sorrow of her children rose upward to Celesta amongst the stars, she hardened her heart against it. Her children would need to act against their ancient enemies, for she had given them all the tools which would enable them to be victorious.
Soon, the lamentations of the Skychildren gave way to anger, and the wrath of Celesta’s children was kindled against the Groundbreathers who had escaped the sky realm with the Fenik in hand.
And so it came to pass that the Skychildren descended upon the Groundbreathers, armed with fire and all their lances and arrows, and many Groundbreather cities were laid to waste by the might of their rage. But though the stolen glider was destroyed and the foolish Goose released from his bonds, the Fenik could not be found, for the guile of the Groundbreathers had ensured it was well-hidden.
And when Goose the Foolish was taken in judgment, the king cast him out, naming him faithless and without honor, exiling him from the sky realm forever.
—The Book of Celesta
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Escape
Skye fairly flew down the corridors using the route he had mapped out. He was hoping against hope the Iron Swords’ patrols had not been changed. The night was calm and still, but he imagined newly stationed guards around every corner, waiting to catch him. To his relief, the course he had charted remained clear, and no one stepped forward to challenge him.
He soon arrived at the courtyard and stopped by one of the sleeping garms long enough to snatch a sword from its back and tuck it in his belt. After glancing at the unconscious guards by the gate, Skye stepped out, grateful that Gusty had incapacitated them. As he ran, he could hear the slapping of the princess’s footsteps behind him.
“Gusty?” Skye called softly.
“Over here!” the other Skychild responded, waving from where he stood near the gates.
Skye sprinted over to his companion and grinned at him. “Great fog, Gusty,” he whispered. Though Skychildren had the ability to manipulate the winds to mix warm and cold air to create fog, Gusty’s subservience and general lack of courage had worried Skye, and he had wondered if the Skychild could perform under pressure. “Over the walls with you. She’ll be here any moment now. Make sure to keep hidden.”
The other Skychild nodded and stepped up into the fog with Strix in tow. Skye then turned and stepped into the fog himself, walking upward several paces until he was obscured by the heavy mist. There, he crouched and waited for the princess to appear.
* * *
Tierra had rarely seen such a fog as had fallen that evening. It was so thick she found it impossible to move quickly without risking bumping into something. Still, knowing that she needed to be the one to prevent Skye from escaping, she grimly continued on, her eyes darting here and there throughout the courtyard, peering about in an attempt to find the rogue slave.
“I know you are here, Skye,” she said. “If you give yourself up now, your punishment shall be much lighter than it will be if you force me to bring you in myself.”
A soft snort sounded in the air above her, and Tierra stepped back and looked up in surprise. There, squatting among the shifting currents of the fog, was Skye. He had a grin on his face, and he appeared to be as comfortable as he would have been if he were seated in the queen’s best armchair.
For a moment, Tierra froze in surprise. How was Skye able to stand on the fog, of all things? She was caught by the ethereal beauty of the sight of the Skychild hovering in the air, wisps of fog eddying about him, the light of nearby torches illuminating the
water droplets with an otherworldly hue.
Skye reached down and grabbed her, lifting her into his strong arms. He then sprinted up into the fog and over the castle walls, down into the countryside beyond. In a night of surprises, the act of going over the walls on stairs made of nothing more substantial than mist was the greatest shock to Tierra’s already alarmed state.
It was hard for her to process anything at that point. Changing from captor to captive in an instant was enough to render her speechless. Yet despite the whirlwind of confusion assaulting her brain, two things did register in her struggling conscious mind.
The first was that Skye was holding her in a rather intimate way while she was in her nightgown. One of his arms was wrapped around her waist, and the other was beneath her legs, as a man might hold his wife. She had not simply been thrown over his shoulder as she might have expected from a Skychild carrying off a captive Groundbreather, and she shivered at the realization. The second thought to register in her mind was that the ground was not so far beneath her that a fall would kill her.
She looked up at the Skychild, noting the amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth and the way he clutched her tighter when he felt her gaze on him. Then she jammed the edge of her palm up against his chin, causing his head to whip upward and back.
“Celesta’s skies!” he swore, his grip on her loosening.
She tossed her sword down to the ground and struggled out of his grasp, pushing away from him. As she fell, she grabbed the bottom of his legs, trying to slow her momentum right before she let go. But she only succeeded in bringing him down with her.
They fell in a heap onto the grass, with Skye landing on top of Tierra heavily. Ignoring her discomfort, the arrogant Skychild grinned down at her. “I should have expected a fight from you. Just be glad my sword didn’t accidentally bring a quick end to our evening with that foolish move you pulled. It could have gutted one of us, you know.”
