Airwoman

by Zara Quentin

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, lifting her chin to stare at him. He was wearing a strange cloak that covered his wings.

  Axel stared open-mouthed at the space that had opened up between them, his hands still reaching towards her. A furrow appeared on his brow and he let his hands fall to his side. His eyes met hers fleetingly, before darting away. “I could ask you the same thing. Since when did you join the Force?”

  Jade gritted her teeth. “You first.”

  Axel stepped forwards, reaching out again, this time to grab hold of her. Jade gasped and scooted back, staying out of his reach. Her heart skipped, then quickened. She noticed the thin line of his mouth. “If you don’t know already, it’s probably best I don’t tell you.”

  Jade’s eyes narrowed and something tight wound its way around her chest. “That’s not an answer.”

  Axel searched her face, frowning. Jade lifted her chin and stared back. He couldn’t hold the weight of her glare and looked down at his hands. “There’s a lot to say, but first, since you’re here, I need a favour.”

  Jade’s mouth fell open, then she snapped it shut and clenched her fists. “A favour? Are you serious?”

  “It’s important.” Axel stepped towards her again.

  She shifted her weight to the balls of her feet, ready to flee and held up a hand to stop him. “I want an explanation.”

  Axel pressed his lips together and ran a hand over the stubble on his chin as he studied her face again. “I know why you’re upset—that thing with your father, right?” he said finally.

  Jade’s clenched jaw started to ache. Her nails dug into her palms. That thing?

  As he ran his fingers over his chin again, a shard of sunlight glanced off something on his hand. Jade peered at it, then gasped.

  Papa’s ring.

  Proof.

  “Look, it wasn’t about you. I had to do it. You shouldn’t take it personally.”

  “I shouldn’t take it personally?” Jade shouted, louder than she’d intended.

  “You’re overreacting. It’s business.” Axel brought a finger to his lips, his eyes darting around. Jade found herself shaking, and she raised her voice to spite him. She stabbed a finger at the ring on his hand. “You’ve destroyed my life and you act like it’s nothing!”

  Axel quickly covered the ring with his other hand. He swallowed. “Calm down—”

  A whistling sound rushed past Jade’s ear.

  She reacted immediately, dropping into to a crouch, then ran. She twisted left, then darted right, her feet slipping over the spongy ground. Another dart sailed past her head and Jade threw herself aside again. Her feet slipped out from under her and she rolled, feeling the damp slick of mud down her arm. She pushed herself to her feet, then heard a dull thud next to her. A quick look showed a dart had buried itself in the trunk next to her. She gulped down air as she forced her legs to keep going, using her tail to steer herself as she ran. She was too slow, too vulnerable on the ground. But getting into the air was difficult in this foliage. Jade dashed behind a thick trunk, before a dart stuck into the bark next to her arm. Jade pushed away, stumbling towards the next trunk. Axel called out behind her.

  “Please, wait! I need to talk to you!”

  Jade darted behind another trunk, then another. Finally, the whistling of darts stopped. She slowed to a walk, glancing over her shoulder. There was nothing but the rainforest all around. Then she fell to her knees, breathing deeply. She looked over her shoulder again. There was no one behind her. She was alone. She breathed relief, then stiffened.

  Axel wasn’t following her.

  She’d run away like a coward and now she’d lost him again.

  Curse it.

  17

  It was the bird call that caught her attention. She’d heard it before. Jade tried to remember why it was important, but a fog clouded her mind.

  The late afternoon light barely broke through the trees. Jade couldn’t quite see where the shadows ended and the night began. The fading light played tricks, the world shifting around her. She held out her good arm for balance.

  She’d walked most of the day without seeing Axel again. After she’d run away, losing him, she’d forced herself to retrace her steps. She’d made it back to the waterfall, but Axel was gone. She’d managed to cross the river upstream, using her wings for the first time in days to skim over the water. She was going south, cutting notches in the trees at random intervals.

  Her mind was so clouded, she couldn’t think about anything else. All she knew was that she needed to keep moving: to protect herself, to find Axel, to avenge Papa.

  As night fell, Jade stumbled and swayed on her feet. Her aches and pains were eerily absent, but she struggled to put one foot in front of the other. She reeled from one trunk to the next, bumping low-hanging branches, getting tangled in the ever-present vines and tripping over gnarled tree roots.

  Another bird call sounded above her and she blinked. Then the sound of a dart whistling through the air startled her again, sending her to her hands and knees. In a calm corner of her mind, a part walled off from her present state, she remembered a snippet of Michael’s advice: Don’t forget to look up.

  Jade sat back on her knees and peered into the treetops. There was a small movement on a branch above her, then another bird call.

  Only it was unlike any bird call she’d ever heard. And it always preceded the whistle of a dart.

  Jade felt a surge of adrenalin and pushed herself to her feet.

  “Hey!” she yelled into the treetops.

  Out of the corner of her eye, a bow-legged figure dashed nimbly along a branch. Jade pushed herself forward, running as best she could on numb feet and uneven ground. She followed the sounds that she now knew were not bird calls. If she wasn’t imagining it, the calls seemed to be increasing in urgency. Jade looked up again, scanning the boughs above for movement.

  She kept moving. She wouldn’t give these people another shot at her.

  Then, as though curtains were drawn aside, the rainforest parted and Jade stepped out onto open ground.

  She stared up in wonder as the first stars of the night blinked in the indigo sky. Jade stumbled, falling to her knees in the boggy, muddy ground. Ahead, a squat building sat unassuming in the middle of the swampy clearing. Jade gasped as a jet of steam hissed from the ground in front of her, and gagged at the terrible smell.

  Then two people appeared in front of her—two women, both with long hair falling in fine braids finished with beads. They seemed strangely out of proportion, with short, bowed legs and long, muscular arms. They wore little to cover themselves—a cloth at the waist fastened by a belt with many pouches and implements hanging from it. Around their necks they wore knotted strings, differing in colour and length. Their broad, flat faces resembled each other slightly, though one wore an expression of surprise while the other bared her teeth like an animal. She held a knife aloft, ready to strike. Jade noticed the surprised one held a long, hollowed stick—a blow-piece—up to her lips.

  The knife-wielding woman stepped towards her and Jade instinctively held up an arm to protect herself from attack. It was all she could manage. She had no more energy to fight.

  The woman holding the blow-piece leapt forward before her partner could strike. She grabbed Jade’s wrist before she could pull away. The Premyan shook her arm, pointing to the pendant tied around her wrist. Jade tried to pull her arm away, but the woman’s grip was strong. Instead, Jade swayed on her knees, as the two women looked at each other. They didn’t speak, but they moved their hands in small, flicking movements, frequently pointing to Jade’s wrist.

  Then, suddenly, they both strode forward and grabbed her under each arm. Jade screamed with pain as they jerked her injured shoulder. The world spun and she fell into darkness.

  * * *

  Jade felt nothing. The pain in her shoulder was gone. Her feet and legs no longer ached. Her body felt light. Was she dead? Perhaps this was the lightness of her soul being pr
epared to cross over to rest with Our Lady Taraqa.

  Then she smelled smoke and heard the crackle of a fire. Jade blinked her eyes open, then sat up with a start.

  A woman with braided grey hair, wearing a necklace of knotted strings, squatted next to a fire burning in a small metal barrel. She adjusted something in a pot that hung directly above it. Jade remembered the two women who had taken her prisoner. Her hand rushed to her belt to grab her knife, but her belt was gone. Her clothes were gone. Jade snatched the blankets around her, and backed away from the woman who had turned her wide, round eyes on her in surprise.

  For a moment, they eyed each other cautiously.

  Then the woman slowly took the little pot from the fire. Without looking at Jade, she poured the liquid from the pot into two small cups. Then she waddled closer to Jade, stopping a little way from her. She held out one of the cups, putting it slowly down on the low table between them, before settling down on a cushion and sipping at her own cup.

  Only then did the woman meet Jade’s eyes again.

  Jade heard the breeze shifting the leaves outside and the crackle of the fire in the corner. She watched the woman sip from her cup, and her mouth felt dry. She was tempted to snatch the cup and drink, but hesitated. She’d seen the woman pour both cups from the same pot. Was it safe?

  Jade pondered fractionally longer, before her thirst got the better of her. She picked up the cup and took a gulp.

  The liquid seared her mouth and Jade had to stop herself from spitting it back out. She coughed and spluttered as she choked it down.

  The woman smiled like this was a wonderful joke, revealing a mouthful of brown and missing teeth. She pointed at the cup Jade was holding. “Careful. Hot.”

  Jade nodded, taking a more measured sip this time and decided it was a bitter tea. The silence returned and Jade peered discreetly around at her surroundings.

  They sat in the middle of a small and fully contained room. On one side was a fire-barrel and a low table for food preparation. On the other, was a small bed and wooden chest. Jade sat on cushions and a woven mat covered the floor, while the walls looked like they were made with a mixture of mud, dried leaves and twigs. There weren’t any windows but Jade noticed a little opening next to the kitchen area, now covered by a curtain of light cloth. It fluttered in the breeze and Jade caught a glimpse of the outside.

  Her eyes widened. Jade jumped up and tore the curtain aside. This room was nestled between a large branch and the thick trunk of a huge tree. Jade looked out into the dark sky, seeing the canopy up close. They were high up in the trees, where stars twinkled in the spaces between the leaves. Jade looked down towards the squat hut in the swampy clearing.

  “Where am I?” Jade asked, turning abruptly to the Premyan woman. The woman patted the cushions next to her, inviting Jade to sit again. Jade shook her head. “Not until you tell me where I am. What are you going to do with me?”

  The woman sighed, her hands twitching. She seemed uncertain, her eyes darted around the room. When she looked back to Jade, she placed a hand on her own chest. “I, Namaje.” She spread her hands wide. “This, home.” Then she pointed outside. “This, Kapelton. Village.”

  Namaje couldn’t speak Taraqan, or not very well, at least. Jade was fluent in most of the languages of the Taraqans main trade partners, she’d learnt them at school. Unfortunately, the Premyan language had never been offered. Jade sighed.

  “I’m Jade,” she replied, putting a hand on her own chest. She wondered if she should look for an escape. Namaje seemed pleasant enough so far, but Jade wasn’t here by choice. “Thank you for the tea.”

  “You hurt. Hurting still?” Namaje came over, crouching to peer at Jade’s injured shoulder.

  Jade rolled her shoulder, tensing for pain from the still visible scratch. But there was none. She shook her head, watching as Namaje produced a bowl of red paste. Namaje wrapped her fingers in a red-stained cloth, then dipped them into the paste before rubbing it into the scratch in Jade’s shoulder.

  “What is that?”

  “This, Mortisberry paste. Only help pain. Cannot heal. But DivineOne…” Namaje struggled with whatever she wanted to tell Jade. “DivineOne say other place can heal.”

  Jade wasn’t sure what that meant or who DivineOne was supposed to be, but she didn’t think she would understand, no matter how many questions she asked. Instead, Jade looked in the bowl.

  “This stuff is amazing. I feel no pain at all.” Jade went to dip her finger into the paste, but Namaje pulled the bowl away sharply.

  “No!” Namaje shook a finger at Jade as though she was a naughty child. “Mortisberry dangerous. Death berry.”

  Jade’s eyes widened, feeling alarmed. She looked from Namaje’s face, to the red paste and back again. “This stuff will kill me? What are you doing?”

  Namaje shook her head, a frustrated look passing over her face. “Yes. No,” Namaje sighed. She pointed to the paste. “This. For pain. But too much, maybe cannot move. Only still.” Namaje made a pose like a statue and Jade stifled a laugh. Then Namaje turned a serious expression on Jade again. “Too much Mortisberries. Maybe dead.”

  Jade swallowed. She rolled her shoulder again, just to make sure she still could. Namaje tipped her head out and let out a hearty laugh.

  Namaje pointed to the red paste. “This, mix water. Not strong. You all right. Only on skin.” She mimed eating something. “No eat. Never eat. You maybe die.”

  Jade’s eyes widened. “I get it. I won’t eat it.” Her stomach grumbled though, and Namaje laughed again before moving to her food preparation bench.

  Namaje returned with bread and a paste that smelled like nuts and seeds. Jade tucked into it hungrily.

  “Where is Axel?” Jade asked, her curiosity finally getting the better of her. “When will you take me to him?”

  Namaje frowned. Jade saw that she didn’t understand.

  “Axel. Traveller. Man. Where is he?”

  “Traveller man? You know Traveller man?” Namaje stood abruptly. “You wait.”

  Namaje pulled the curtain aside and made the strange bird call into the night. At the sound, Jade leapt to her feet. “What are you doing?”

  When Namaje stepped aside, another Premyan woman entered. Her eyes were an astonishing colour, a deep brown flecked with blue. She was taller and a little younger than Namaje, probably middle-aged, with braided jet-black hair and a rope of knotted strings looped around her neck.

  “Who are you?” Jade looked from Namaje to the middle-aged woman. “What’s going on?”

  “This Loraya,” Namaje said, dipping her eyes respectfully towards the other woman. “She leader.”

  “Come,” Loraya said, no hint of a smile on her face.

  Jade shook her head. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Come,” Loraya repeated, her lips pursed. She clearly wasn’t used to her orders being questioned. “See DivineOne. Now.”

  * * *

  Loraya pressed her forehead to the brightly coloured mosaic floor tiles in reverence of the little dragon statue, glinting bright blue where it stood, wings spread. It was beautiful and so tiny, it would have fitted in the palm of her hand. It stood on a strange sort of altar: a slab of stone with three curved depressions carved into it, raised to chest height. In each of the depressions, a bed of coals glowed red.

  The dragon statue, with disproportionately big feet, stood in one depression. In the next, a polished, yellow stone rested on the burning embers. The last depression was empty.

  Namaje tugged on Jade’s arm, prostrating herself on the floor behind Loraya. Jade realised she, too, was supposed to bow to this token of their Dragon-God. Though, as she knelt, she remembered that, from Traveller stories, the Dragon-God of Premye had been gold—certainly not blue.

  Jade leaned forwards to rest her forehead on the floor, then discreetly looked out of the corner of her eye to scan the room. It appeared to be their Temple, though from the outside it was a simple hut made from wood and mud-
daub with a thatched roof. It blended into the swampy clearing which surrounded it; a boiling, bubbling mud swamp, which hissed a foul-smelling steam at unpredictable intervals. To enter, Loraya and Namaje had swung easily across it, their long, muscled arms reaching and catching a series of ropes that dangled from the overhanging branches. To follow them, Jade had flown, skimming close to the ground—though not too close to the foul, belching mud.

  If its exterior was modest, the interior of the Temple was the opposite. Three walls hung with beautifully embroidered tapestries, and the fourth was lined with wood panelling, glinting with inset gold.

  Nobody moved and Jade wondered how long they would pray. She squirmed uncomfortably and tipped her head to look at the panels. They were a collection of smaller panels that made a series. As she ran her eyes over them, she recognised the stories.

  The panels told the creation myths—stories her parents had told her as a child. Later, at school, she’d heard them from the priests.

  The first panel depicted the Lady Premye, the first of the Dragon-Gods, alone and yearning for someone to love. Jade’s eyes moved quickly along the panels, seeing the Lady Premye breathing a tongue of fire over Herself as She curled up to sleep, to dream. She saw the panel depicting the Lady Premye’s dreams, weaving creation around Her like a cocoon, the land and sea first, then tropical forests, sandy beaches, rivers, birds. She dreamed of a people to serve Her, tree-dwelling people. Jade recognised the carved depiction of the long-armed and bow-legged people of Premye.

  Jade’s eyes flicked forward to the next panel, the Lady Premye still not satisfied with what she had created. She yearned for Her own kind and dreamed a nest full of eggs.

  Eigots, Jade corrected herself as she remembered the term the priests had always used for Dragon eggs.

  Loraya and Namaje rose up to standing. Jade looked up at them staring at the statue. Both women were engaged in a silent conversation, flicking their fingers at some speed. Jade stood too and shuffled backwards. Then, when neither objected, she wandered over to inspect the carved wood panels more closely.