Windrunner's Daughter

by Bryony Pearce

  “No.” Raw stumbled forward and Chayton shoved the packet behind his back.

  Win growled. “What are you doing?”

  “Give it to Wren,” Raw shouted.

  Win glowered and the creases around his mouth and hooked nose deepened. “What’s going on here?”

  “There’s only enough cure for one.” As he spoke, Raw kept his eyes on Wren.

  Win stared. Then he strode slowly across the room. He knelt by his daughter’s side. “Mia?”

  For a long time, Mia did not move but then her eyes opened a crack. “Father?”

  Win held her hand in his, and Wren was shocked to see him tremble. “Mia,” he said again, her name like a prayer. Mia closed her eyes and Win pressed his forehead to hers. “I missed you. The pain was so great that I punished you for your choice. I should have forgiven you your decision. I’m sorry.”

  Mia tried to shake her head, but only managed to allow it to flop to one side. Win wiped the hair from her forehead. Her breath rasped slower and slower.

  “You’ve not long left,” he muttered and Mia blinked her assent. She did not seem afraid.

  Win fingered his black pendant as he stood. His hands were shaking. “Give the cure to the girl.”

  “No!” Chayton lurched towards Win and Raw blocked him. “Why?” Chayton groaned, ignoring Raw. “Do you hate her so much?”

  Win’s face tightened. “Do you hate your own daughter?”

  Chayton paled.

  “You have one dose.” Win rubbed his face with trembling fingers. “Mia is out of time. A single dose may not be enough to save her and then you’ll have lost both of them. The girl … my grand-daughter … is sick, but she isn’t yet dying. She can be saved.”

  Wren collapsed, her canister suddenly feeling airless. “You don’t mean it. Give the cure to Mother.”

  “Wren, you don’t want to die from this plague,” Raw pleaded.

  Win whirled. “Plague? What do you mean, plague?”

  Wren hung her head. “Tir Na Nog is gone. Vaikuntha is dying.”

  Win started to back towards the airlock. “Are you telling me that you Runners have brought a plague on us?” His voice was ice.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Chayton snapped.

  Raw swayed and closed his eyes. “Yes, that’s what we’re saying.”

  Chayton spun to face him, fury on his face, but Raw pointed at him with a finger like Death’s. “Only you could have infected Mia.”

  Chayton sneered. “Then why aren’t I sick?”

  Wren bit her lip. “Erb said some could be carriers, not getting sick yet, just spreading the disease.”

  Her father staggered, like a drunk at the end of a long night. “If I’m carrying this, half of the Runners at Convocation will be taking it home.”

  He lurched past Win and ripped off his mask as he headed to the airlock like a man on fire looking for water. “I mustn't be allowed to live.”

  “Raw, stop him!” Wren winced as her cry ripped agony through her throat.

  Raw ran to the airlock, slapped his hand over the keypad next to the palm reader and entered a code that made it blink red. They were on lock-down.

  Chayton folded as he turned back into the room. “Give the cure to Wren then,” he muttered. “Mia and I will be together soon enough.”

  Wren’s grandfather stood next to him. “You disgust me,” he snapped. “Be a man, even if you are a Runner.” He snatched the cure from Chayton’s frozen fingers.

  “Give the girl a three-quarter dose,” he said eventually. “It’ll have to be enough. Maybe our scientists will have time to break the rest down and synthesize more so we can save the colony when it hits.”

  Raw shook his head. “I’ve got the formula here. Can you use this instead?” He pulled the twist of paper Erb had given him from his shirt.

  Erb untwisted the paper and looked at it with a frown, then a nod.

  Chayton clutched the door frame. “We’re the lungs of Mars, not the medics.”

  “We still have a working synthesiser.” Win handed Raw the packet containing the pressure tab. “It isn’t used often. Emergencies only. Save my grand-daughter. Once we have synthesized enough of the cure, Chayton can take samples out to Aaru and the other colonies. Maybe some of them have operational ‘sizers left too.”

  Chayton shook his head. “I’m a carrier and there are no other able Runners here.”

  Wren crouched over a cough; then straightened. “Raw can do it.”

  Chayton and Raw jerked in unison. “No.” Raw shook his head. “I’m not a Runner. I only followed you.”

  Win looked at the unconscious Jay then tipped his chin at Raw. “You’re the closest thing to a Runner that we have right now. Chayton, you’ll have to teach him what he doesn’t know.”

  Chayton opened his mouth and snapped it closed. “The High Patrions would sentence me to death,” he muttered. Then he groaned. “But … I’ve broken with Convocation. The tithe they expect me to demand - it’s insane. Grounders already distrust Runners.” He hung his head. “The decision Convocation have made will be the end of us all.”

  Win’s lip twitched as if he was trying to sneer, but could not. “You have broken with Runner law?”

  Chayton nodded grimly as Wren gasped.

  Raw raised his head, hopeful. “If that’s true then Wren doesn’t have to be punished.”

  Wren’s heart rose. “Then Raw and I can Run for you.” She coughed again.

  Wearily Chayton rubbed his face. “Not you, Wren. If the Runners find out you’re still alive the High Patrions will come for you.”

  He held out his hand and Wren placed her palm in his. Then he turned her arm so that her inner elbow faced the ceiling.

  “No!” Wren tried to jerk away, too late. Raw pressed the tab against her inner elbow and depressed the button. Air needled through her skin, carrying the medicine that was needed to cure her mother.

  “What have you done?” she screamed.

  Brokenly Chayton lurched to his wife’s side. Win strode to the window port and turned reddened eyes on his daughter.

  Wren collapsed against the wall. Raw crouched next to her and she pushed him away. “This is your fault. You should have let them give the cure to my mother. I hate you. I hate you all.”

  Raw dropped his chin and pulled his hair down over his scarred face. He crouched at her side for a long time; finally, when she refused to look at him, he rose and sat at the table.

  Chayton spoke without lifting his gaze from his wife. “Wren can’t be Sphere-Mistress any longer; she can’t stay here. When Runners come in she’ll be noticed.” His lips pursed as if he tasted something sour. He glanced at Raw. “You want her?”

  Raw nodded.

  “I'm not a broken pot," Wren cried. "You can't just give me away. I’d rather join the damned baby exchange.”

  Raw winced as if she had shot him and he pulled his hair even lower. Her heart stuttered, but Wren ignored it. He had betrayed her.

  Suddenly Mia’s hand dropped from the bed and Wren froze. Chayton’s head dropped to his wife’s chest and Win held his own hand to his face. His breath came hard through vinegar-tight lips.

  “She’s gone?”

  Chayton nodded.

  Win turned to the airlock. “Unlock this, I have work to do,” he snapped. Raw entered a code into the keypad.

  Win looked once more at the unconscious Jay and then his eyes whisked around the otherwise empty room. He hesitated with his hand resting on the palm reader. “I can see your eldest did not come home. I’m sorry for your losses.” Then he was gone.

  The wail that ripped from Wren’s throat was almost inhuman. Without thinking she groped for Raw’s hand and pressed it to her heart as if only his touch could loosen the bands that had tightened around it.

  One month later

  Chayton watched as Raw swooped into a thermal above the platform. “I didn’t believe anyone but a Runner co
uld Run.” He shook his head at Wren. “There’ll be some changes here before the Patriarchs arrive.”

  “The Patriarchs are coming?”

  “Of course.” Chayton pushed his hair from his forehead. “They’ll want someone of their own to take over Avalon.”

  “We won’t let them.”

  “Perhaps.” Chayton shrugged.

  “What changes do you mean?” Wren frowned at him.

  “We need to trust one another, Grounders and Runners. I’ll offer lessons in Running to anyone that wants them. And if a Runner wants to stay on land -” He glowered at Jay, who had refused to touch his wings since he had woken, “I will allow it.” He raised his hand before Wren could speak. “We won’t have much time. When Convocation has finished repairing the damage caused by the mega storm, they’ll come.”

  “What will they do?”

  “Maybe they’ll see a settlement that’s working and leave us alone.” He stalked towards the platform where Raw was sweeping in for a landing. Wren looked at the scarred face as he touched down and her heart filled with hope.

  Wren picked sullenly at a loose thread on the bedspread. Her grand-father had forced Tee to accept her into the Women’s Sector and the days were slipping by. Soon someone would spot the Patriarchs Running in. She was going to have to leave Avalon.

  Jay took her hand. “It might not be as bad as you expect.”

  “Remember the last time I went into Elysium, how they treated me?”

  Jay sighed. “You won’t be in the Women’s Sector long. It’s the Choosing in a few days.”

  “And then what? Where do I live?”

  “Things between Runners and Grounders are improving. They’ll have to accept you when you’re married.”

  “Raw betrayed me? I don’t want to be with him.”

  Jay’s lips twitched. “Are you sure about that?”

  Wren looked away; her voice had cracked on the lie.

  The airlock opened and Chayton stamped in. He had a pair of wings in his hands.

  Wren held her breath and Jay’s eyes immediately went to the window port. “Have they …?”

  “No. Not yet.”

  Wren frowned a question at the wings. Did he have a repair job for her? They looked like her own and those had been fine when she had seen them last. Her father dropped the wings on the table.

  “I’ll take you down to the Women’s Sector.” He shook the weather from his coat and stretched.

  Wren swallowed. “Now?”

  He nodded. He said nothing about the wings. Maybe he figured they weren’t anything to do with her now that she was never to be Avalon’s Sphere-Mistress.

  Wren stalled. “How’s the training going?”

  Chayton grunted. “He’s doing well.” He avoided her eyes.

  “He’s better than Jay was, isn’t he?” She smirked at her brother.

  Reluctantly Chayton nodded. “And two other lads have asked to be taught.”

  “So that’s why you need the extra wings.” Wren’s eyes went to the silver material draped over the table.

  Chayton marched to her side. “He says-” he paused.

  “What?” Panic clutched at her heart. Chayton continued to avoid her gaze and the air left the room.

  “He says you were better than him. Better than Colm even.”

  Wren choked on the missing air. “Raw said that?”

  Finally Chayton gestured at the wings. “It would be a waste to send you away wingless.”

  “I - ” Wren stopped. She didn’t dare believe that Chayton was actually giving her the wings. “But I can’t Run. If the Patriarchs find out I’m alive, I'll be killed. That’s the whole point of sending me to the Women’s Sector, to hide me, so they don’t find out.”

  “You can fly out that way.” He gestured behind them, “where there are no colonies.”

  Wren gaped.

  “And you can help me teach the Grounders: Run demonstrations.”

  Wren wrapped her hands around her chest, holding herself together against the shock. She felt as if she might fly apart. “You’d let me Run?”

  Chayton nodded and finally met her eyes with his own, older versions of Colm’s. “If it’s true what Raw says, then you’re a natural Runner. It would be cruel to take your wings.”

  "But - blasphemy?"

  Chayton sighed. "Wren, I've broken laws myself now and your mother is dead. What do I have to fear from the High Patrions?"

  Wren ran to the table. “They’re really mine?” Her arms went around the struts.

  “Raw made it possible.” Chayton touched her shoulder. “Perhaps before you go to the Women’s Sector you would do one last thing for Avalon.”

  Wren looked up. “What?”

  Chayton smiled. “Fly with me, Wren.”

  The air streamed over her wings and Wren looked over at her father. He grinned widely and tilted so that a gust of wind flicked into her face. Her eyes widened. This then was a lifetime of flying experience.

  She unlocked her wings and closed them around her. As Chayton cried out his surprise, Wren spiralled downwards; then she forced her wings out again. The wind snapped them into place and she flew up to meet him.

  His face smoothed out and suddenly he whooped and they were racing the sunset back to Avalon. Light played over silver graphene and the fluttering material sang alongside Wren’s laughter.

  As the platform came towards them her father grinned up at her, a challenge in his eyes. He started in for a landing, but before his feet touched down, he yawed forwards, tucked his legs into his chest and closed his wings. He turned a somersault and landed unmoving dead centre in the middle of the platform. Had he missed, he would have crashed into the net.

  Wren gaped. Then she calculated. She had seen how he had done it. Raw had copied her all this time. It was her turn to show her father what she could do.

  She tucked her legs beneath her.

  The Women’s Sector hunkered low to the ground. Lines of laundry were drying outside and an avenue of dresses led them to the door.

  Before Chayton knocked he dragged Wren out from behind him. “For the sake of the skies,” he snapped. “You stood up to the whole Vaikunthan colony.”

  Wren snarled under her breath, but moved to his side and straightened her mother’s skirts, which hung in an unfamiliar way and tangled around her ankles.

  When he knocked, the door opened as though someone had been waiting on the other side. Wren blanched.

  “My daughter is a woman grown.” Her father propelled her forward. “And I should like her to enter the Sector.”

  Wren shuffled her feet as Tee glowered down at her, black and white pendants swinging beneath her pendulous breasts. Then the councillor took her arm and Chayton stepped backwards, abandoning her in the doorway.

  “Follow me -” Tee tugged Wren into the house. As soon as Chayton was out of view, she finished her sentence “- Runner.” Then she dropped Wren’s arm with disdain.

  She suppressed a sigh. It was going to be a long few days.

  Wren was used to sharing a room with her family, but not with so many other girls. They twittered and giggled until long after lights out, and the nearer the time of the choosing came, the more twittery and giggly they became.

  Not one of them had said a word to Wren since her arrival. She sat on her mattress in an island of silence, but because she was the only one quiet, she was the only one who heard the shutter rattle. Curious, she slipped out of bed.

  Gravel continued to patter on the slats. Wren reached for the latch and a shriek stopped her.

  “What are you doing?”

  It was Cara, she of the shiny blonde hair and falsely pink cheeks.

  “I’m opening the shutter,” Wren explained patiently.

  “You can’t!” Cara snatched at her hand.

  “Is it a rule?” Wren groaned; she seemed to be coming up against a lot of those.

  Cara stared at he
r in confusion. “Of course not. We don’t need a rule to tell us not to open the shutters.” She looked at the other girls who were all nodding and gaping at Wren as if she had two heads.

  “I don’t understand.” Wren shrugged and raised her hand again. “If there’s no rule -”

  Cara’s impressive bosom swelled. “Nice girls don’t open the shutters at night. It’s the Designers law, to protect us.”

  Wren rubbed her short curls. She really wanted to know who was on the other side. Her lips tingled and her heart beat faster. Somehow she knew who it was.

  Ignoring Cara’s whining, she unhooked the latch and pushed the shutter open. Fresh air rushed into the stale room.

  “I thought you hadn’t heard me.” Raw grinned.

  Wren forced a scowl. “I’m not speaking to you, remember?”

  “Can you come out?” Raw held out his hand. Buoyed by the horrified gasps from the girls behind her, Wren climbed through the window.

  Wren glanced back. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

  Female faces clustered around the window, obviously torn between slamming it shut and watching Wren committing yet more sacrilege.

  “Then you certainly shouldn’t be doing this.” Raw trapped her in his arms and claimed her mouth with his own.

  This time there was no-one trying to take Wren’s life, no raging fire and no illness to steal her breath, yet her pulse still raced and her stomach tied itself in knots.

  Raw’s mouth was hot and Wren held on tightly to stop herself from drifting away.

  Finally he pressed his forehead to hers. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you too … I suppose.” Wren clutched his shirt between her fingers but then an image of the blonde Cara flashed through her head. Raw had once said to her that his disease had cost him his chance to Choose. Had he really wanted Cara, or someone like her? She had to know.

  “Raw.” Her voice sounded foreign to her ears. “You don’t have to pick me.”

  He shook her shoulders. “You still hate me? Because it didn’t feel like that a moment ago.”

  “I know you feel that you owe me because I saved your life but … you don’t have to go this far.”