Skyborn

by David Dalglish

  Everything was so elaborate, the amount of people so overwhelming, Bree felt her nerves flaring anew. She didn’t want to be here. She’d make a fool of herself, say something stupid or…

  “Stay with me now,” Dean said, squeezing her hand, and the simple gesture pulled her out of her mental spiral. “I know it’s a bit overwhelming in here, but you get used to it.”

  “I take it you went last year?” she asked as they wandered toward the center of the general assembly.

  “I did,” he said, his mind clearly elsewhere as he surveyed the people.

  “I thought you said only third year and up received invites?”

  “Sasha took me as her date,” he said.

  Bree’s eyes widened. “Sasha? You mean you two were…”

  “Not dating in the slightest,” Dean said, and he nudged her. “I wanted to rub elbows with the fancy folk. Sometimes the right connection can mean the difference between being a squad leader and being the tail end of a formation.”

  “So did you make any good connections?”

  Dean laughed.

  “Let’s just say I’m going to have to rely on skill and good looks instead.”

  As Bree weaved through the massive congregation of people, the sound of their discussions like the waves of the ocean beneath Weshern, she spotted her brother. He wore his uniform, and he stood beside Clara Willer, who wore a sparkling silver dress similar to her mother’s. At least seven older men and women gathered around her, politely chatting. Bree tugged on Dean’s hand so he’d realize she stopped, then weaved closer to Kael until she finally managed to catch his attention.

  “How’s it going?” she asked her brother once he separated from the crowd and came her way.

  “I’ve never been so miserable in my life,” he said. “Everyone pretends I don’t exist. It’s like I have fleas or something.”

  “Well, Clara looks happy,” Bree said, gesturing to his date. Kael glanced over his shoulder, and he chuckled.

  “She does,” he admitted. “Which means I’ll continue to grin and bear it. It’s only one night, right? I can handle one night of this.”

  Bree poked him in his ribs.

  “You grew up with me,” she said. “You can handle anything.”

  “No argument here.” He lifted a glass, half filled with a dark red liquid. “The drinks help as well. Shame I didn’t have any of this while growing up stuck with you.”

  He smiled, this one far more authentic than the grin plastered on his face when she first spotted him. It made her feel much better, and she decided he was smarter than he looked.

  It’s only one night, she told herself, echoing his own words. And he has far more eyes on him than I do.

  Kael returned to his date, and Bree did the same. Dean guided them to the long buffet table, its surface covered with a thin white cloth, its silverware polished to a sparkle. Dozens of empty glasses waited beside an enormous bowl of wine, and taking a ladle, Bree scooped herself something to drink. When she tasted it, she was surprised by its incredible chill. Glancing back to the crystalline bowl, she saw bits of frost collected around the edges, and leaning closer, she realized three prisms of ice element were bound together by a silver chain and then set inside the hollow upraised center.

  Drinks, she thought. We use it to defend our nation, yet the Willers chill their drinks with it.

  Part of her wanted to be filled with righteous indignation at such an extravagant waste… but part of her keenly remembered the pleasure she took in the hot showers at the academy, the water heated by flame elements. Bree took another sip, swallowing down both anger and embarrassment for her own mental hypocrisy.

  “Good idea,” Dean said, pouring himself one as well. “Getting drunk will make the night fly by.”

  “I won’t get drunk,” Bree said.

  “A few more cups of that and you will,” he said. “Let’s see what wins tonight, your self-control or your boredom.”

  “How could all this be boring?” Bree asked as they drifted away from the table. She gestured to the paintings, the people, the musicians. “I can barely take it all in.”

  Dean sipped his own cup, shook his head as he swallowed.

  “Do you know anyone here besides Clara and your brother?” he asked.

  Bree frowned.

  “Not really,” she said.

  “Neither do I. So prepare to make small talk with people you don’t know, and will never meet again.”

  “It can’t be that bad,” Bree whispered, dropping her voice as they made their way to one of the walls. The painting was of Lake Pleasance, where she’d swum often while growing up. She wanted to see how well the painter captured its blue waters, its border of towering trees, and the many geese that lived upon its shores.

  “We’ll see.”

  Before Bree could reach the painting, she spotted two familiar faces far less welcoming than her brother’s. Saul and Jason Reigar, both of them wearing fitted black suits with blue shirts. That they wore those instead of their Seraphim uniforms irked Bree to no end. The two Reigar siblings looked bored as they stood beside an older man she guessed to be their father, who was busy chatting with a balding man in a faded Seraphim uniform.

  “Hold up,” Bree told Dean. Her date paused, caught her looking at Saul and Jason, and immediately started to protest.

  “Bree…,” he said.

  “I’ll behave,” she promised as she headed their way.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Doesn’t matter if you do.”

  She circled about a gathering of older men, weaved between a trio of women, and then flashed the two brothers the biggest smile of her life.

  “I didn’t know you two would be here,” she said as if they were best friends. “I’m having the most wonderful time. Aren’t you?”

  Jason rolled his eyes and ignored her. Saul seemed more embarrassed, as if he felt obligated to at least acknowledge her presence.

  “It’s just a ball,” he said. “Been to plenty like it before.”

  “You’re so lucky. Who is your lovely date for this evening?”

  The splotch of red around his neck was answer enough, and he mumbled something about not having bothered to ask anyone. Dean, meanwhile, had finally caught up to Bree, and she grabbed his hand and yanked him to her side.

  “Dean was kind enough to invite me,” she said. “I’m so glad, too. I’d not miss this for the world. Oh, did you see Clara and Kael?” She turned and pointed to the crowd. “They’re over there, just in case you didn’t spot them. Make sure you say hello. I’m sure they’d love to see another familiar face.”

  Saul’s entire neck was red now, and he glanced about as if seeking a method of escape.

  “Let’s not bother the nice people,” Dean said, pulling her away toward the painting. “I think they’re trying to talk business.”

  “All right,” Bree said, and she winked at Saul before nodding toward Jason. “Have fun with your date!”

  “She’s just a different girl once she gets a drink in her,” Dean said, laughing off their glares as best he could. Bree giggled as they walked away.

  “That was fun.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “You say that as if you didn’t love that about me.”

  Dean kissed her cheek.

  “You’re right,” he said. “But let’s not push the limits too often while we’re amid the rich and powerful. I’d rather not go from being a Seraph to someone’s lavatory cleaning boy.”

  She laughed.

  “If you insist,” she said. “And very well. If it will make you feel better, I’ll behave.”

  Bree finished her first glass, wisely decided not to have a second. She felt a soft loosening of her mind, and her smile came much quicker to her lips than normal. Nice as it was to feel relaxed instead of nervous, she didn’t want to risk humiliating Dean any further than she potentially already had. Older men and women drifted over to the corner in which they lurked, usually
just long enough to find out their names and ask simple questions, such as whether Bree enjoyed life in the academy. The sameness of it, the steady murmur of voices and droning of the music, soon made her wish she could be out practicing with her wings instead.

  “About time,” Dean said, setting aside his own glass after at least an hour.

  “What?” Bree asked.

  In answer, Dean pointed to where Isaac Willer had walked to the center of the room. Lifting his hands above his head, the Archon clapped four times, slowly gaining the attention of the rest of the room. The din quieted, the musicians having halted their playing, and in the sudden silence, Isaac shouted out in a deep, booming voice that easily filled the entire hall.

  “I thank you all for coming tonight,” he said. “The winter solstice is upon us, and Weshern has thrived for yet another year. I pray we continue to endure as we always have, overcoming whatever obstacles and trying times may come. But for now, we celebrate. For now, we dance beneath the stars.”

  One more clap, and then the fires on the many torches instantaneously extinguished, plunging the dance hall into darkness. Bree frowned. In such dark, how were they supposed to…

  And then the lights twinkled into being, first one, then ten, then hundreds. Soft and white, like hovering diamonds in the darkness above. Bree felt her jaw drop. Stars. The ceiling was a great field of stars. Their light shone upon the paintings, and Bree spun, taking it all in. Their world… at last she could see it as the books described. Soft blue hues tinted the trees and lakes like God’s own paintbrush. The water seemed to sparkle, welcoming, mysterious. Even the frozen animals, geese and deer she’d seen a hundred times before during visits to the lake, took on a new sense of majesty in the twilight. The sight was so beautiful, so pure, and nothing like the harsh red glow of the midnight fire. Looking back up to the field of stars, she felt tears building in her eyes. The stars were false, she knew, likely using light element as the mansion had in the other furnishings, but she didn’t care. It was a glimpse at a world denied to her, a world she’d always wanted to see. Now at last, she could.

  “Milady,” Dean said, offering her his hand. “Would you give me the honor of a dance?”

  “Of course,” she said, blinking away the tears and hoping he hadn’t noticed.

  The musicians began anew, and at a far greater volume. Bree took Dean’s hands, and just like they practiced, she stepped back, then forward, following Dean’s lead as he shifted gently side to side. It was a simple enough dance, asking very little of her. She’d thought it’d be silly to do so in a room full of people, but when hundreds of others danced the same, it felt like she was a part of something, a ritual binding her to the strangers in a way she’d never understand. Dean smiled at her with every step, and the false starlight sparkled in his blue eyes. Even with all the people, the darkened room felt far more intimate.

  Bree heard a humming sound beneath them, and then the gold swirls on the floor started to glow.

  “I have a surprise for you,” Dean whispered into her ear. “Follow my lead.”

  Without further explanation he guided her through the slowly waving chaos of dancing couples. Bree noticed how there was a very slight order to it, as if the dancers were a funnel gently rotating. Dean actively danced against it, though where and why, she couldn’t tell, but at last he reached one of the golden circles on the floor and put themselves within it, refusing to budge despite the flow of the room.

  “What’s going on?” Bree whispered.

  “Let’s just say I paid attention last year,” he said, pulling her closer to him. “Hold me tight.”

  The gold shone brighter, and then to her shock, the floor began to rise. Glancing about, she saw that all of the golden circles were floating, and she could only guess at the machinery involved. Dean kept her twirling as they lifted, two dozen circles in total rising up as the rest of the guests continued to dance below. His right hand moved to her waist, pulling her even closer. One by one, she saw the various platforms stopping, yet theirs continued to rise.

  “Dean,” she said, realizing what was happening.

  “Shush,” he whispered. “Just dance.”

  And so she did, this time even slower, their feet merely shifting side to side. Of all the platforms rising to the ceiling, theirs was the very last to halt. Couples at all heights danced and moved, and those on the bottom floor peered up at them all, taking in the wondrous sight. Being at such prominence made Bree’s heart hammer in her chest, while Dean seemed quite at ease as he leaned down and kissed her lips.

  “People are watching,” she whispered when he pulled away.

  “Let them,” Dean said. “You belong among the stars, Bree. I’ve known it from the very first moment I saw you.”

  She smiled, then leaned against him, her face on his chest. Back and forth they rocked, and she closed her eyes, imagining them not on a platform but in an open field, the stars, the real stars, shining above. And in that moment, she was happy, and would not trade it for the world. Not even for her wings. The music played, their bodies swayed, and on their platform of gold and marble, Bree and Dean danced and danced.

  CHAPTER 19

  When people warned Kael not to drink too much at the ball, he’d always assumed it was out of fear he’d act like a fool should he become intoxicated. Now, as he met with Loramere at the entrance of the academy, he realized his splitting headache might be more the reason.

  “You look like you had a great time last night,” Loramere said, the giant Seraph crossing his arms and grinning down at him. “You also look like you’re paying for it, too.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Kael murmured. It was still early, the last remnants of morning mist still dissipating. He and Loramere both wore their uniforms and wings, with the other also carrying a large, rolled scroll capped at both ends with bronze. A thin steel chain looped around his neck, the ends connected to the bronze caps to keep the scroll secure during flight.

  “Everyone says their first night drinking is a night they never forget,” Loramere said. “That’s a lie, of course. The first night’s the easiest to forget. It’s that first morning you’ll always remember. Like goats are butting heads just behind your eyeballs, am I right?”

  “You could say that.”

  Loramere laughed as he slapped Kael across the shoulder.

  “That’s a good man. Next time, drink some water along with your wine. It’ll help, I promise. Now, are you ready to accompany me on my official duty to Center?”

  Why else would I be out here? Kael thought.

  “Lead the way,” he said instead, not daring to say such disrespectful thoughts out loud no matter how hungover he might be.

  Loramere gave him a quick salute, then clenched his left hand into a fist, thumb on the throttle. Kael did the same, and together they powered their wings and rose into the air. When the older man flew north at a gentle slope, Kael followed alongside him at such an easy pace, Kael could almost talk normally, so long as he stayed elbow to elbow with the bigger man.

  “Who’s your civics teacher?” Loramere asked as the lakes of Weshern passed beneath them.

  “Miss Woods.”

  “Ah yes, that old iron nail. She tell you what we’re doing?”

  Kael shook his head.

  “I was to be here at dawn, and do what I was told. That’s all.”

  “Leave it to her to make us do the teaching,” Loramere grumbled.

  They approached one of Weshern’s towns, and Loramere banked higher to ensure they were far above any of the square buildings. Kael overlooked the city, strangely fascinated by how the streets, which would have felt aimless and winding on foot, divided the place into neat little segments with exits at all four sides.

  “Every four hours from dawn to dusk, we send two Seraphim carrying a message to Center to deliver to the theotechs,” Loramere explained, and he tapped the capped scroll that was chained about his neck. “One is experienced, one tends to be younger, but always two, and alw
ays every four hours. I’m sure you’ll come on plenty of these in the next few months, and no matter how impressive this first one feels, trust me, they’ll get boring fast.”

  “What happens if you don’t have a message to deliver?” Kael asked.

  “Never happens. Sometimes the message you carry is as simple as ‘I bear no message,’ which is a conundrum I’d recommend you not dwell on too much, especially given your current mental state.”

  “Why go if there’s no message?” Kael asked.

  “Because if we’re to declare war against an island, we need Center’s permission,” Loramere said. “Trust me, on our flight we’ll be spotted by men and women of all four other islands. It’s hard to take anyone by surprise if you only send out messengers when there’s an important request. That’s why we keep it nice and steady. Routine, Kael. You can disguise a lot of things by making them part of a boring old routine.”

  They were nearing the northeast end of Weshern, and Kael could hardly believe how quickly they’d crossed the expanse of the island, starting in the far east at the academy. End to end, Weshern was approximately thirty miles wide. What might have taken him an entire day on foot they’d crossed in half an hour with their wings. Being so high made it hard for him to realize how great a speed they flew, but seeing the roads twist and turn below him, the villages passing one after the other, was illuminating. The docks where he and Bree had flown with Nickolas months ago to have their affinity tests rapidly came into view. Kael remembered how nervous he’d been to ride the platform to Center. Now he zipped along high above the bustle of the docks, and he barely gave them a second thought.