Skyborn

by David Dalglish

  “I am sorry I cannot offer you better accommodations,” Marrik said. “If you wish to sit, the floor must suffice.”

  Marrik settled into the chair, gently rocking in it. Kael folded his legs underneath him and sat, Clara doing likewise. In the dim light, Kael took a better look at the disciple. He wasn’t much older than him, face clean-shaven, his skin deeply tanned. His hands rested in his lap, and by their deep callouses Kael knew him to have been a fisherman. His hair was long, and braided in a ponytail that hung far past his shoulders. The red midnight hue gave his pale eyes a fearful glow.

  “You said you have questions,” Marrik began, sitting up in his chair. “I cannot promise to have all the answers, but I will do my best. I know why you come here, so do not lie nor waste my time. The words of Johan have reached your ears, haven’t they?”

  Kael and Clara nodded.

  “His wisdom spreads. The world is changing, and we will be the catalyst. Now ask, and I shall answer.”

  The two exchanged glances. Clara held his hand, and he felt her squeeze it tight. She was trusting him. He thought of his research, of the conversation he’d had with Thane months ago, before ever entering into the academy. What did he truly wish to know? What could these disciples of Johan say that might reveal why the theotechs took such interest in him and his sister?

  “Who is Johan?” Kael asked, deciding to start with the question most everyone did. It was a question Marrik was clearly familiar with, and he launched into a spiel with practiced ease.

  “Johan is the man brave enough to refuse the lies of Center,” he said. “He was a theotech before they cast him out, which is why he knows the truth from the lies. Johan dared ask when he was told to accept. He dared doubt when he was told to believe. Very few meet him, for his life is ever in danger, but I am one who has. His wisdom is unmatched. His presence is certainly divine. Perhaps, in a future earned in blood, he will openly walk among us, and you will be blessed to share in his presence like I have.”

  It all sounded like nonsense no different from how the theotechs spoke of the Speaker for the Angels, Marius Prakt. Kael kept such thoughts far from showing on his face. Instead he did his best approximation of guarded fascination. It wasn’t hard. Johan, whoever he was, did intrigue him greatly.

  Marrik paused, and Kael sensed him waiting for another question. Still keeping it vague, he approached the next topic most every curious visitor asked about.

  “What does Johan want?”

  Marrik rubbed his hands together, as if eager for the question.

  “He wants the truth to be known,” he said. “The Speaker for the Angels is a liar, one who does not hear the voice of the angels, nor share their wisdom with mankind. He is merely a man with power, wielding that power cruelly and expertly to manipulate our five minor islands into servitude. Johan would have this false divine expelled, and the true wisdom revealed to the people. Our islands are kept afloat by the Beam, yet it is Center’s theotechs who operate them, not us. Our society thrives on the elements, yet we know nothing of how they are made. This cannot continue, not unless we would submit to Center and admit our independence is nothing but a fraud.”

  Marrik’s presence was powerful and uncomfortable. He spoke with absolute certainty, and a passion that was undeniable. Kael shared a look with Clara, and he could tell she was similarly affected. Part of him wanted to leave immediately, but part of him wanted to hear every single word that came from the man’s lips.

  “So say you’re right,” Kael offered. “Say the Speaker is a fraud. What of his theotechs? It is their gifts that keep our islands afloat. It is their work that gives us water to drink. If they seek only power over us, then why serve us in such a way?”

  Marrik looked far too pleased with the question. He must have been asked it before, perhaps even asked it himself, and he had an answer immediately ready.

  “They serve us only so we might repay them tenfold. We hand over our fortune in food and goods, and in return, obtain just enough elements to keep our fishermen airborne and our military armed. Just enough to protect ourselves from the other islands, which are equally hungry, islands stretched equally thin. It’s a cycle they trapped us in centuries ago, and no one yet has had the strength to resist.”

  Marrik tapped his fingers. Eager. Eyes wide, and hungry.

  “Do you know what they truly want from us, my unknown friends? They want to keep our numbers in check. They want us forever angry with the other islands, killing each other, thinning our numbers so we are never as strong as we might otherwise be. And then when we have peace, when it seems we might start posing a threat… why, suddenly there is a shortage in one of the elements. The five islands will offer higher and higher tribute for it out of fear they be the one cut out, and those who cannot afford it, well…”

  Marrik shook his head.

  “Then it comes to battle, and we spill blood for it instead, exactly as Center desires.”

  Kael felt his pulse rising, his blood boiling. The battle that had cost Bree and him their parents, it’d been because of a shortage of flame element that year, and Weshern had been forced to take to the skies to battle for their cut. The idea that it’d been completely manufactured, the death for no reason other than calculated manipulation…

  “You’re saying Center fakes the shortages,” Kael said, fighting to keep his voice calm.

  “What I’m saying,” Marrik said, leaning closer, “is that we don’t know. We don’t know how it’s created. If we don’t know that, we don’t know what causes years of shortage and years of surplus. But the evidence is before us, my friend. I offer my explanation, the explanation given by Johan to us all. If there is another, let the Speaker himself share it. Bring the secrets into the light. But he won’t, you know that. Knowledge is a poison to an iron rule, and Marius will die before he shares the secrets of the theotechs with us.”

  “So what should we do?” Kael asked. “Threaten war unless our demands be met? Would you have us fly across the skies to battle over Center’s streets and fields?”

  “No,” Marrik said. “We prepare for invasion.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Clara said, unable to remain silent any longer. “You think Center will invade? Why? If all you say is true, and the Speaker’s manipulation of us so absolute, why bother?”

  “Because without conflict, we threaten their rule,” Marrik said, tilting his head her way. “Elern declared herself peacemaker among the five islands, and no matter how many times the Speaker may insist such peace is their goal, it is a lie. In times of peace, we stockpile. Our numbers grow. The stores of elements steadily increase. Should such peace last too long, the minor islands might have enough to withstand being cut off by Center. A true rebellion, a capturing of the theotechs and forced sharing of the knowledge of the elemental prisms, the Fount, and the Beam. Should this happen, Center’s power over us is at an end, and no king or theocrat has ever willingly given up power, I assure you. Not without a fight.”

  Marrik stood from his chair, and he swept his arms wide.

  “Mark my words, the time comes,” he said. “Johan knows the heart of the Speaker, and it is one of cowardice and greed. We fight among ourselves when we should face the common enemy. Our independence is a sham, and even the Speaker will soon abandon the charade entirely. His knights will fly like legions, his soldiers unending. They will come to conquer, no longer willing to play the game. The risks aren’t worth the peace it buys. We must be ready. We must spread the message, for when the time comes, and we rise up against them in the inevitable war, our freedom relies upon our victory. We are the ones brave enough to open our eyes and see. Will you be one of them?”

  It was a call to arms, one Kael was unwilling to accept. Too much of what he’d heard was conjecture and assumptions. Despite the claims of Johan having been a theotech, he didn’t seem to know any of their actual secrets, or if he did, he wasn’t sharing that knowledge with his followers. Worst of all, none of his rhetoric explained the t
heotechs’ interest in him and his sister. They had nothing to do with shortages or elements or the puppet rule Center exercised. They were simple Seraphs, that was all, Seraphs who survived a plague that might never have been.

  “Perhaps in time,” Kael said, rising to his feet and offering Clara his hand to help her do likewise. “You have told us much, and I would like us to think on it before we return.”

  “Think, decide, but do not tarry,” Marrik said. “I must sow seeds all throughout Weshern, and the dangers of the work are many. The theotechs sense the threat we pose, and they are all too eager to execute those who would deny the divinity of the Speaker.”

  They left, and Kael was surprised by the immense relief he felt when he shut the door to Marrik’s home. The two returned south, toward Winged Road leading toward the academy, and they walked in silence. Marrik’s words looped in Kael’s mind, mentally chewing on them, deciding what he did and did not believe. To his surprise, he believed more than he doubted.

  “Marrik didn’t have a shred of doubt,” Clara said once they were nearing the edge of town. “No wonder the theotechs are so frightened of Johan and his disciples. A man without doubt in his beliefs is a man who will kill for them.”

  “Do you think he was right, about any of it?”

  Clara shrugged as they passed the hanging pieces of the broken torch.

  “I don’t know. But at least I know why they hate our family now. We’re not leaders to them. We’re just the puppets ruling in Center’s stead.”

  She said it with such bitterness Kael winced, and he took her hand in his.

  “Thank you for bringing me to him,” he said.

  Clara winked.

  “I got to get away from home and the academy and do something my father would be royally pissed about if he found out. I’m pretty sure I should be thanking you.”

  Kael laughed.

  “Good,” he said, for something else had been weighing on his mind, a needed act he’d been putting off as long as he could. “That means you’ll help me with something tomorrow, right?”

  Kai waited up ahead, alone in the road, bundle of clothes and shoes in hand.

  “And what might that be?” Clara asked. “Is it more dangerous than meeting with an outlaw heretic?”

  Kael winced.

  “Not quite,” he said. “And yet perhaps worse…”

  CHAPTER 30

  Kael hesitated, hand hanging in the air just before the wood.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Clara asked.

  “Want to?” Kael said. “No, but I should.”

  And so he knocked on the door to Saul Reigar’s apartment, then scooted back a step. They heard footsteps within, the sound of things shuffling. When the door finally opened, it yanked inward with violent speed. Waiting on the other side was Saul, black circles under his eyes and blond hair unkempt. He wore his uniform, the shirt pulled free of his pants, which were missing their belt.

  “I’m getting ready to grab supper,” he said, glaring at Kael. “What do you want?”

  Kael almost told him it was too early for that, but he caught himself before uttering such an inane protest. All his prepared statements jumbled in his mind, and the sheer ugliness on Saul’s face stole away his ability to conjure up new ones. The awkward silence stretched on as Saul crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. Thankfully, Clara was with him, bailing Kael out when he needed it most.

  “Kael wanted to thank you,” she said. “Right, Kael?”

  “Right,” he said, and it felt like a stone fell from his tongue. “To sacrifice what you did, that must have been so hard, and I wanted to…”

  “I killed my brother,” Saul said, barging past him while tucking in his shirt. “Hard doesn’t begin to describe it.”

  Kael frowned, refusing to give up so quickly. After the failed kidnapping attempt, Saul had gone missing from practice for more than a week. That morning he’d finally returned, taking part in the various drills without addressing a soul. Seeing him move through practice like a corpse had filled Kael with guilt, and so he’d come, hoping he and Clara could at least try to make him feel better. Of course, Saul being Saul, he wasn’t going to let it be easy.

  “You did what you had to do,” Kael said, hurrying after him. “It’s not your fault your brother was a traitor.”

  Saul froze, and his body stiffened as if stabbed. Before he even turned around, Kael realized there couldn’t have been a worse thing for him to say. Damn it, all he wanted to do was apologize, how did he mess that up so terribly?

  “No, it’s not my fault,” Saul said, glaring fire from his hazel eyes. “My family losing everything, that’s my fault.”

  Kael started to protest, but stopped. He was missing something, and he glanced to Clara, saw her own confusion.

  “I don’t understand,” Kael said softly.

  Saul grabbed Kael by the front of his shirt, and he yanked him closer. His stare was like iron holding Kael prisoner.

  “There was a trial,” Saul said. “Archon Willer blamed my parents for the attempt on your lives. Jason swore he acted alone, but it didn’t matter. We lost our homes, our lands, our titles… I thought I could live with Jason’s death. Your sister killed more in her first battle than Argus did, and to just hand her over… I couldn’t allow it. My parents raised me with more loyalty to Weshern than that. My parents, whom Isaac declared traitors and exiled from our island.”

  “I heard nothing about this,” Clara said softly.

  “There’s a whole world underneath your nose,” Saul said, glaring at her. “Of course Isaac didn’t let his precious little daughter hear something that might upset her.”

  Kael struggled to meet Saul’s furious gaze.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Saul, I’m so sorry.”

  “Say sorry all you want, it doesn’t fix anything.” Saul shoved him away, and Kael stumbled to keep his balance. “I pray to God that Bree does something useful with her life, because I just sacrificed all of mine so she might live.”

  Kael’s throat tightened, and he tried not to let the hurt reach his voice.

  “You saved my life as well,” he said.

  Saul shook his head as he stared at him with such hatred.

  “Your sister’s the only one worth a damn, Kael. If it’d been just you, I’d have let you die without a second thought.”

  Kael could endure Saul’s anger and frustration. For all his classmate had lost, his anger was justified. But to dismiss him so easily, to say something so hateful and cruel…

  “You don’t mean that,” he said softly.

  Saul stepped closer, hands balled into fists.

  “Should I repeat myself until you believe me?” he asked. “I’d let… you… die.”

  His fist rammed into Kael’s stomach. When he doubled over, Saul shoved him onto his back. Kael rolled to his feet, hands clenched at his sides. He met Saul’s stare, but he did not raise his fists, nor attempt to dodge when another blow struck him in the mouth. His head popped back, his lip immediately swelling as he tasted blood trickle across his tongue. Two more blows to his chest, but he offered no retaliation.

  “Fight me, damn it!” Saul screamed. There were tears in his eyes as he struck again and again. “It’s your fault I’ve lost everything, now fight me!”

  The blows on his body weakened, and Kael endured them despite the pain.

  “Everything,” Saul said, voice now a whisper. “You cost me everything.”

  At last they stopped, and Clara stepped in the way, looking remarkably calm despite what she’d witnessed.

  “That’s enough,” she said.

  “It’ll never be enough,” Saul said, but his words were tinged with defeat.

  “It is enough,” Clara said. “Or shall I have you join your parents in exile?”

  “No,” Kael said, wiping blood from his lip as he rose to his feet. “Let him go. This was just a misunderstanding, isn’t that right, Saul?”

  Before he migh
t answer, the sound of horns blared from the center of the academy grounds. Saul looked completely shaken, and he wiped at the tears sliding down his face.

  “The both of you can go to Hell,” he said. “Never speak to me again.”

  The young man hurried past them toward the road, Kael careful to give him a wide berth. Once he was gone Clara turned to him, looking over his wounds.

  “You could have fought back,” she said as she winced at the sight of his swollen lip.

  “Because of me and my sister, he lost his entire family,” Kael said. “Saul may never forgive us, but if I struck him at such a broken moment, he’d never have reason to, either.” He gently eased her away from him. “I’m fine. My knees feel like they’re made of butter, but that’s it. Besides, those are the warning horns. I need to prepare.”

  She stepped on her tiptoes so she could give him a kiss.

  “Stay safe,” she said.

  “Aren’t you coming with me?”

  Clara shook her head, and she ran a hand through her short blonde hair.

  “My father prefers I join him in the holy mansion if there’s ever an attack,” she said. “When you return, I’ll find you, I promise.”

  She blew him a kiss, then hurried to the road running between the eight apartments and turned north. Kael did the same, only he turned south instead. He tried to walk calmly to the armory, but apparently that wasn’t going to be allowed. Seraphim raced across the skies above the academy, and upon seeing him, one dove low.

  “Are you combat ready?” the older man asked.

  “I am,” Kael answered, showing him a newly sewn patch on his right shoulder. “Part of Phoenix.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  He grabbed Kael’s wrists, barely giving him a half second of warning before lifting off. They raced across the grounds to the armory, where Weshern’s entire Seraphim forces were gathering. While Kael had thought things chaotic when preparing their previous assault on Galen, this put it to shame. Men and women rushed everywhere, shouting, already forming into squadrons and checking numbers to ensure everyone’s presence. Kael had to push through the crowd to get to his wings, and as he strapped them on he was pleased to see his sister join him.