Skyborn

by David Dalglish

  Bree’s wings were gone.

  The mechanics had begun letting the students fetch their own harnesses after their third week, and Kael was thankful for the practice. Normally retrieving them with a pole was no difficult matter, but the darkness complicated things. Telling himself to be patient, he carefully set the hook, waited until another lightning strike, and then lifted the harness in its fleeting light. Sliding it down, he grabbed it and began buckling on the wings. Light was hardly necessary for that, for he, like all the others in the academy, could practically do it in his sleep. That done, he flicked on the switch, powering the wings. From his left gauntlet faint white light shone out from the thin window. The element he’d used earlier in the day was still inside, and he sighed with relief. At least he could use it for light if he absolutely had to.

  A vicious gust of wind greeted Kael’s exit from the shed. He squinted his eyes instinctively against it but was surprised to see how the rain seemed to slow as it neared his face, its contact against his skin much more gentle.

  “Well, that’s neat,” he said, heading back east. “Get to learn something new every day.”

  Such as why his sister would need her wings during such an angry thunderstorm.

  “Bree!” he screamed, fighting for his voice to be heard over the crash of thunder. “Bree, where are you?”

  He jogged down the street, his head on a swivel. If Bree was using her wings, then they’d be glowing a soft silver, and in such darkness he should be able to—

  And then he saw her, not far off the road by the obstacle course. As the rain beat down on her, she swung both her swords in a rapid shifting of stance to stance. Pulling her swords back, she leapt forward, flaring her wings so that she flew a good thirty feet before thrusting. A twist of her waist, and she turned about, dashing forward again for another strike. Kael watched her, feeling strangely saddened. Her skill was incredible, and he’d seen few students of any year performing actual combinations of aerial maneuvers and swordplay during practice. Yet her every twist, every cut, looked born of a mad desperation. It was as if she fought a foe she could not harm, no matter how viciously she slashed the midnight sky.

  “Bree!” he cried out to her, finally gaining her attention. She spun, and when she saw him, she sheathed her swords.

  “Leave me alone,” she shouted.

  “Not happening.”

  Another stroke of lightning, this one finally hitting ground a mile or two in the distance. As its light washed over them, followed by the crack of thunder, Bree turned away and flared her wings. Before he could stop her, she soared into the air.

  “Bree!” he screamed, and despite his own terror, he flew after her. Rain whirled all around him, and though its sting on his face was lessened by the harness, he still had to squint against the impact. Flying into the raindrops was disorientating, even more so when thin streaks of white lashed through the clouds, as if the storm was insulted by his very presence. Ahead of him, Bree’s silver wings were a beacon, and he followed it against all rational sense suggesting otherwise. Higher and higher they flew, until they were amid the very clouds themselves. The wind was incredible, buffeting him side to side so that flying in a straight line was all but impossible. He couldn’t see Bree anymore, could barely tell up from down.

  The next thunderclap sounded as if it came from inside his own head, and it struck him like a physical blow. Screaming, he closed his eyes and pushed his wings to their limits, desperately praying he flew in the correct direction. The thunder rolled and rolled, like the growl of a vicious lion the size of the world itself. And then, all at once, he was free. The rain ceased. The wind calmed. Kael opened his eyes, and he saw that he had emerged above the thunderstorm. Farther beyond was his sister, and the sight took his breath away.

  Bree hovered with her arms at her sides and her head tilted backward. The midnight fire consumed the heavens above, rolling in chaotic fury as far as the eye could see. Lightning flashed through dark clouds beneath her, colored red by the burning skies so they appeared a firestorm of Hell itself. Bree’s eyes were closed, and if she could remain lost there forever, Kael feared she gladly would. Above was fire, below a storm, and it seemed she hovered in the only place in all the world where she knew peace.

  “Bree,” he called again, gently guiding his wings toward her. “Bree, please, come back down.”

  “I killed him,” she said, eyes still closed.

  “You did what you had to do,” Kael said carefully.

  “Not Eric. Dean. It’s my fault, Kael, all my fault. How do I live with that?”

  He frowned, confused.

  “How could that possibly be your fault?” he asked.

  She finally looked his way, tears sliding down her face.

  “He should have been practicing,” she said. “He should have been learning to fly, or throw his fire. Instead he spent all his time teaching me swordplay. Pointless, stupid swordplay. If he’d spent more time training, if he’d been that much better…”

  “Bree,” he said, lessening the thrust of his wings so that he hovered beside her. “What happened to Dean wasn’t your fault. You can’t let that guilt eat at you, not when there’s nothing you could have done. Dean spent all those hours with you for a reason, and it was because he enjoyed every single one. Don’t take that from yourself. Don’t taint his memory that way.”

  She sniffed, and she wiped at her face with a hand.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “It was all for nothing. They’re going to expel me.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do,” she said. “The evaluations are tomorrow, and I still can’t use my element. I thought… I thought if I tried hard enough, if I improved in everything else, it would make up the difference. But it won’t. It never could. I’ve been fooling myself, wasting everyone’s time…”

  Kael reached for her hand, but she pulled away. The motion sent her drifting, and he had to tilt forward to slowly chase.

  “They’ll see how good you are,” Kael argued. “They have to. Everyone else can see it.”

  Bree crossed her arms over her chest, and her gentle drift made it seem as if she was retreating in fear.

  “They’ll see a girl who in six months is still worse than most were on their very first day,” she said. “They’ll see a girl who injured three other students for a single slight in a mess hall. A girl who recklessly engaged a Seraph of a foreign nation without permission. A girl who’s an insult to her parents’ memory.”

  Kael gritted his teeth, and he felt his own tears starting to build.

  “They’ll also see the best flier Weshern’s had in a generation,” he said. “They’ll see the very first member of our class to score a kill. For everything you’ve done, for how hard you’ve worked, Mom and Dad would have been proud, and you damn well know it.” He offered her his hand. “It’s not hopeless, Bree. Please, come back down. Get out of this storm.”

  She stared as if his hand might bite her. A thunderclap rolled beneath them, and in its red light, she closed her eyes.

  “You’re so good to me,” she said. “But my time here is done. The headmaster made that clear as day. I’m scared, Kael. What do I do when I’m expelled? What do I do when I lose the skies? This is all I’ve ever wanted, and now that I’ve had it, how do I go back?” She looked at him, pleading, seeking some sort of hope. “Do I wear my hands to the bone digging weeds and planting crops? Do I take a chisel and hammer and learn to carve? Or do I haul nets of fish day in and out, just to pretend the skies are still mine?”

  Kael wished he knew what to tell her. He wished he had some guarantee of happiness to offer, something that wasn’t a condescending lie.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “But I know you’re strong enough to endure. You always have been, and you always will be.”

  Again he offered her his hand. This time she took it, and he pulled her close for a hug. When she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against his shoulder, he f
elt her entire body collapse like a taut string finally cut in half.

  “I’m sorry I dragged you up here,” she whispered, barely audible over the storm.

  “I’d chase you to Hell and back if I had to,” he said, and he gently separated from her. “Speaking of which, we need to get back down through all that…”

  Bree sniffled, and she grinned at him.

  “I’ll lead the way if you’re scared.”

  Kael mussed her hair before she could retreat.

  “If you insist,” he said, and when she flew downward with a sudden burst of silver light, he followed her readily into the storm.

  CHAPTER 22

  After Gavin and Lily’s deaths, two others had withdrawn from the academy, leaving just fourteen of them to wait together in the large classroom not far from Headmaster Simmons’s office. All across the walls were drawings of the various floating outer islands, each meticulously detailed, showcasing their fields, forests, rivers, and cities. Bree had spent the first twenty minutes analyzing each one, Galen in particular. It seemed so normal, so similar to Weshern. Farmland lined the exterior edges, and in its heart was an enormous lake with eight winding rivers flowing in all directions toward the edge. Of all five, Galen had the most forests, and part of her wished she could one day walk among them. But she never could, not with tensions as they were, and certainly not after what she’d done. After killing Eric Drae, she’d likely be arrested on sight, the theotechs’ wishes be damned.

  Next door was a second classroom, inside of which the six-month evaluations were held. There were no exams to take, no trials or tests of flying prowess. It was simply a meeting of their teachers who revealed their assessments, handed down as a lengthy critique to each student and ending with a simple yes or no as to whether the student could continue at the academy. Those given a yes would return to their apartments. Those who were told no would be immediately removed from the academy grounds, without so much as a good-bye. The students were being called alphabetically by last name, which left Bree plenty of time to prepare for the inevitable.

  Four chairs formed a semicircle, and together they waited, Bree and Brad on one side, Kael and Clara on the other. They’d laughed and joked as the other students left one by one, but as the numbers lessened, so too did their conversation. By the time Rebecca Waller entered, looking stately as ever, they were down to six.

  “Bradford Macon,” she said to the quiet room.

  Brad hopped to his feet, and he flashed the rest a smile.

  “See you all back at my apartment,” he said. “We four can celebrate with drinks that may or may not be allowed on campus.”

  “Your evaluation may still be changed,” Rebecca told him as he walked toward her at the door. “Perhaps you should say such boasts more quietly?”

  Brad blushed, and he looked to his feet as he passed her by. The door shut, and then they were five. The only other two were Saul and Amanda. Saul stood in a corner, arms crossed and eyes closed as he waited. Amanda, meanwhile, had been the only one with the foresight to bring a book, and she sat on the floor not far from their semicircle, slowly flipping page after page.

  “Sometimes it’s nice being a Willer,” Clara said, staring longingly at the door. “But not now.”

  “I’m just before you, so you shouldn’t be alone too long,” Kael said. “I mean, how much time does it take to say ‘you’re terrible, get out of here’?”

  “I don’t know,” Clara said. “We’ll find out by how long it takes them to finish Brad’s.”

  Bree laughed despite her nerves.

  “That’s terrible,” she said.

  “I’m a terrible person,” Clara said, flipping her short blonde hair with a flick of her hand. “But being pretty and wealthy seems to disguise it well enough.”

  “It’s what won me over,” Kael said, looping an arm around her waist and nearly pulling her out of her chair. Bree smiled at the two, and she felt happy that her brother would have someone to rely on after she was gone. Some people, like Amanda and her book, could endure troubles in solitude. Kael certainly could not.

  Time passed, and finally the door opened again.

  “Saul Reigar,” announced Over-Secretary Waller.

  Saul pushed off from the corner, showing no signs of having slept despite remaining quiet and with his eyes closed the whole while. Standing ramrod straight, he smirked as he passed Bree’s chair.

  “To a wonderful evaluation,” he said, facing her so he could bow with an extravagant wave of his hand. “And to never seeing you again.”

  Kael looked ready for a fistfight, but Breanna shrugged it off. She’d hurt Saul’s pride numerous times now. What did it matter if he had one last moment to gloat? The door shut, and when it did, Kael gave it a rude gesture.

  “What an ass,” he said. “He’s going to be so pissed when he finds out you’re staying.”

  “No, he won’t,” Bree said. “I’m finally at peace with this, Kael, I really am. You don’t need to worry about me.”

  She could tell Kael didn’t believe her, and part of her could hardly believe it herself, but at last the moment was here. There’d be no more dreading it, no more struggling impotently to master her fire. She’d had her taste of revenge, of loss in battle. If she must move on, then she’d move on knowing she gave it her all.

  “Don’t give up yet,” Clara said, putting on a cheerful face. “You don’t know you’ll be removed.”

  Bree shook her head.

  “I do know,” she said. “Headmaster Simmons practically told me so. I don’t blame him, either. I’m of no use to a formation if I cannot control my element. There’s no way to get around that simple fact.”

  “No use?” Kael asked. “You’re the only one of us who’s killed an enemy in combat. How could you not be of use?”

  Bree had no desire to argue the point, and she said so. She’d cried her tears above the storm, and come the morning, she’d awoken with a new determination. No matter what happened, she’d face her future without fear. Given her skills with a blade, a position in the military guard remained possible. And as much as she’d despaired over being a fisherman, she would not deny the dignity of working for her daily bread, nor the skill involved in looping around the Fount without harm.

  Time drifted on. Bree briefly fantasized that Saul would be expelled from the academy as well, but she’d seen his skill with ice. He’d clearly be a dangerous threat to the enemy.

  The door opened, another name called.

  “Amanda Ruth.”

  Amanda’s book closed with a thud, and she quickly rose to her feet. She headed for the door, paused, and then suddenly dashed straight at Bree, wrapping her arms about her.

  “I’ll miss you,” she said.

  Bree felt a lump growing in her throat, and for a moment she let a bit of her sorrow leak through.

  “I’ll miss you, too,” she said, squeezing the thin girl back.

  Amanda smiled her waifish smile, then followed Over-Secretary Waller out the door. Clara stared after them, obviously troubled.

  “I hope they fail her,” she said softly.

  Kael’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open.

  “What?” he asked. “Why? She’s the best with lightning by far.”

  Clara shook her head, and while Kael didn’t understand, Bree did. She’d experienced it firsthand not so long ago, wrestled with it many sleepless nights.

  “Her skill with flight and lightning are excellent,” Bree said. “But that’s not all it takes to be a Seraph.”

  Clara nodded in agreement.

  “You have to kill,” she said. “To look at a man or woman and decide to end their life. I don’t think that ability is inside her. At least, I don’t want it to be. If they fail her now, she’ll never have to find out. I hope the teachers see that in her as well, and do what’s right. Sending her into battle will only get her killed.”

  Bree felt her respect for Clara growing more and more. With all their practices in emp
ty fields, it was easy to see flying and using elements as part of a game. Kael had learned the truth when they watched the knights drop the disciple of Johan into the well. As for Clara? Bree stared into those green eyes, and she had a feeling Clara, as a child of the ruling family, had never been allowed to forget the number of lives in her hands.

  “Amanda’s stronger than you two give her credit for,” Kael said. “She was closer than anyone when Gavin and Lily wrecked. No one would have blamed her for leaving the academy then and there, but she stayed. She knows this is life-and-death, just like you two do. She’ll be a fine Seraph, just you wait.”

  “Make sure you write me a letter telling me how wrong I was,” Bree said.

  Again her certainty of her own failing flustered Kael, but thankfully he didn’t argue.

  “Fine,” he mumbled. “You watch. She’ll be a killing machine of the skies. She’s so small, no one will be able to hit her. Tiny little Amanda, like a hummingbird with lightning.”

  “Truly, the enemies of Weshern will quake with fear,” Clara said, and they all smiled.

  The door opened, but instead of Rebecca, it was Brad who ducked his head through it.

  “I’m in,” he said, grinning ear to ear. “Instructor Dohn even complimented my progress. I’m stunned the islands haven’t crashed into the ocean.”

  “There’s still time yet,” Kael said, laughing. “Now get out of here before Miss Waller catches you.”

  Brad shot them a wink, then ducked out, slamming the door shut behind him. Kael shook his head, and he gestured toward the door.

  “If that oaf gets to stay, and you don’t, then there’s no justice in this world,” he told Bree, who rolled her eyes. Thankfully Clara pinched Kael in the side, saving her the trouble of doing so herself.

  Time rolled on, and though she was next, Bree was surprised by how calm she felt. When Rebecca opened the door and called her name, it seemed Kael was more upset than she was.