Fantasy of Flight (21 page)

I lift a shaking hand and place it in hers, trying to absorb it all as she pulls me up. I wonder at what stage my mind will just overload. A secret village? How long has it existed under the noses of Osolis and Glacium? The housing we’ve passed is not new. I even saw livestock. How many people are here? Exiled from our worlds because of their mixed blood.

Crystal leaves me outside of a shelter. On closer inspection I see the housing is made of a thick material. The cooking equipment is set up in an area sheltered from the wind. I’m glad I brought my warmer clothing with me. Though, I realize, the temperature must always stay the same here. The Ire can’t migrate like we do. It’s an odd concept to grasp. These people wouldn’t have to migrate. There’s a whispered argument coming from the tent.

The material over the entrance is swept aside and a tall man stoops his shoulders as he steps out. He has strawberry blond hair and powder-blue eyes, just like Crystal. This must be her father. He stares at me and I stare back. His daughter steps out and grips his forearm.

“Daddy, this is my friend. She saved my life. This is my way of repaying my debt,” Crystal says. Her father jerks at her words.

The man looks down at her. “That may be, my bird. But Adox won’t allow her to stay here,” he speaks. “You know how stringent he is.” His sentence is loaded. I gather the people who aren’t accepted are also not allowed to leave. I hover awkwardly to the side as her smile falls. I hope Crystal doesn’t get in trouble over this.

Why couldn’t it have just been a mountain somewhere?

I watch as Crystal’s face loses its uncertainty. “Well, I’ll just have to convince him. He’s always liked me,” she says in a blazing tone.

Her father lets out an exasperated breath. “He’d have to love you for this. But what’s done is done. He’ll not be up yet. Bide here and have some food before you go,” he says and moves toward me, arm extended.

“But no matter what happens later, I am honored to meet the person who saved my daughter’s life. I’m Cris.” I shake his hand.

“I’m called Willow,” I say, letting go of his hand. I don’t want anyone here to connect me as Frost and definitely not Olina. Crystal gives me a look, but doesn’t say anything. We sit around the fire as Crystal’s mother, Isha, comes out and introduces herself. She has more of a Solati look to her. Her expression is blank and I can’t tell what she thinks of my presence here - which is saying something. Isha helps Cris to prepare the fire and food. I chew on the dry, unfamiliar food, thinking of the pears I never got to eat back in the castle.

I look around with growing uneasiness, beginning to see coming here wasn’t going be as simple as I thought. I’d misunderstood her. Crystal brought me here to live - permanently. I groan and put my throbbing head in my hands. I choke back tears and shake my head at Crystal’s questioning glance. Isha throws a motherly look my way, which nearly undoes me at the seams.

I worry about what happened to Alzona after we left. I bet Jovan would have ordered his guard to turn the barracks upside down. She’ll be pissed. Crystal has been surprisingly unworried about it. Saying something about “It will serve her right to be in my shoes.” I didn’t know what was going on between them, but I hope it doesn’t last. Crystal isn’t solving anything by avoiding Alzona. I ignore the fact I’m essentially doing the same thing with Jovan.

Why did I do it? Why did I run? The issue of sex aside, maintaining a good relationship with Jovan for the peaceful futures of our worlds was paramount. We had finally been talking as one equal to another. A warm feeling unfurls in my stomach, swiftly overridden by icy dismay. The
warm
feeling is exactly what I fear. Is this how my mother felt after sleeping with her Bruma, my father? I feel some kind of weird kinship with her for a brief moment.

Cris joins us and we fly to a rocky island a few minutes away.

We land on a crowded rock. At least I don’t fall on my face this time. Every one of the people hushes as they see I’m a stranger. I hear the word “mixed” whispered around. It’s strange this crowd instantly recognizes what I am, when my mother has managed to fool two entire worlds for so long. I still don’t know if I should be terrified or not. But their staring almost makes me laugh. Is there anywhere on
any
world I can go without people gawking at me for one reason or another?

Unfazed by their hostility, I walk behind Crystal and her father. We approach a man with white hair. I hadn’t expected Adox to be so old. I can’t help a surprised noise from escaping my lips when I see his brown eyes. Solati eyes. Curious now, I take a closer look at those around me. My astonishment at the range of shapes, sizes and colors of the people around me. Beneath my uncertainty a glowing sense of understanding takes root.

I’m not alone.

Adox’s keen eyes move over my features before shifting his perusal to Crystal, who flushes up to the roots of her hair.

“Well met, Adox,” she says, using a Solati greeting. She has hidden all of this so well.

He tilts his head to the side. “You have finally returned, Crystal. And…you have brought company with you,” he says. I’m not fooled by his polite words, though I might have been if not for Cris’ words earlier. I can feel how unwelcome I am. Despite the connection I have to this race, do I really want to stay here? My head gives a painful throb. I need sleep, I can’t think straight.

Crystal flushes a deeper red, if it were possible. “This is my friend and the person who saved my life…” Her eyes widen in panic. I step in.

“Willow,” I say, smoothing over her slip. “My name is Willow.” Adox isn’t convinced. He hums and observes me. I meet his unwavering gaze with my own. Was he born on Osolis? Or up here? If I stayed, I could learn more about this mixed culture and their technology.

“We do not generally receive visitors in the Ire,” he replies and gestures unnecessarily around him. I use it as an excuse to break off our stare down. In doing so, I get another look at the hostile faces around me. Though perhaps some are simply curious.

“Don’t you?” I ask a bit dryly. His eyes flash in amusement, I hope. He keeps his eyes on me as he questions Crystal and then her father. He’s shaking his head. I can see Crystal is growing angry. Her fists are clenching.

“You should not have made a promise you couldn’t keep!” someone yells. I see the exact moment when Crystal has had enough.

I don’t expect her shouted confession.

“I was raped!” she says, eyes scrunched closed. I turn to her and speak rapidly as the crowd gasps.

“No. You don’t have to do this. Please don’t do this.” I turn to Adox and speak out. “I’ll leave. I assure you, no one will hear of the Ire from me.”

Crystal’s father stares at her with white-faced horror.

“Crystal, don’t,” I plead. She pushes me away.

“I was raped a few years ago. By a monster. His name was Slay. Every time I saw him I was so petrified I could hardly speak. But it wasn’t only that. I was a shadow of a person after it. Some days I didn’t even know if I was alive,” she says, gasping between some of the words. What have I done? Crystal is baring her soul to her entire community just because I couldn’t handle the repercussions of sleeping with Jovan.

“Not long ago, our barracks was arrested and thrown into the dome,” she continues. From the gasps filling the air I gather everyone knows what this is.

“Willow was our best fighter. She saved my life. Saved all of our lives and then she fought Slay and let me take my revenge. I cut him into pieces. Just like he did to me over the years. She’s mixed! Anyone can see that. When did we start turning people away who needed help? I thought I’d be able to offer her this refuge as some way of repaying what I owe her, but it seems I won’t even be able to do that.” She throws a glare at Adox and grabs my arm.

“Come on, we’re going,” she says and drags me away. Cris stands in the same spot, shocked expression unchanged. I jog to keep up with her. I look over my shoulder and see Adox gesture to two of the bigger men. We’re nearly at the flying contraptions. The men approach, one moves to grab Crystal, and it’s my turn to snap. I’ve had a bad day. I elbow mine in the throat and wrap my legs around him as he falls to his knees. He’s on the ground mere moments after I slam his head on the rock. I deal with the second man before his hand grips Crystal’s forearm. I turn around and lift my chin, staring defiantly at the gaping crowd.

“You may not let me stay. But you will let me leave. You have my word that this sanctuary will remain secret.” I join Crystal where she assembles the flying device. Murmuring builds behind us.

A short bark interrupts the crowd. The sound is unexpected. Adox is…laughing?

“You always were a fiery one, Crystal. I apologize. The reasons for your actions are good reasons indeed. I am convinced you did not bring Willow here out of a flight of fancy.” He stands from his chair and limps over to us, arm extended.

“Willow, I welcome you to the Ire. Everyone is expected to contribute here in some way. In return you will be given food and housing. Do you have any skills?” he asks.

I stare at him and gesture at the groaning men behind me. “I can fight. And I’ve worked with children for many years,” I say.

His eyes twinkle at my contradicting skill set. “I’m sure that will be plenty enough for now. Please talk with Isha, she will direct you to the proper places. Crystal, you will teach her how to fly,” he says.

Crystal leans in and speaks in a low voice. “I will stay a short while, but I must get back to my employer, or lose my job.” I look at her, a bit alarmed to find out the only person I know is going to leave me. Can I go with her, too? How will I get back if she flies off? All I can hear is Jovan in my ear talking about unforeseen consequences.

Adox looks a bit annoyed at her reply, but he gives a curt nod and surveys the lingering crowd.

“Hamish,” he calls. A handsome young man approaches. He has curly black hair and friendly green eyes. He looks to be about my age, maybe a little older. “You will show Willow how to fly,” he says. Hamish looks at me and an appreciative whistle sounds on his lips. He grins at Adox, who makes another odd barking laugh and limps away to settle the onlookers.

Hamish looks at Crystal and flicks her cheek. “Nice to see you, pipsqueak. Still like to cause a stir, I see,” he says. He darts a look at me and I find myself smiling in return.

“Stop making eyes at my friend, you dolt. She’s not interested,” Crystal grumbles and fastens the straps around us both.

“I’ll just have to wear her down while I teach her to fly.” He steps in and tightens the belt around my waist. He holds his hands there too long and I hear Crystal give a suffering sigh behind me. I shift my gaze from his green one and step into the loops he holds out. Crystal slips her feet behind my own.

“I’ll be seeing you,” he says and winks. I ignore him and brace myself for the lurch in my stomach as we tip off the edge.

While Crystal has a much needed talk with her parents, I take a good look at Crystal’s Soar - as she calls it. Adnan would die of happiness if he saw it. And my brother’s eyes would nearly pop out of his head. I can’t begin to understand its finer workings, but some of the parts are obvious. It has a similar shape to bird’s wings. Several lightweight rods travel from tip to tip of the wings and keep them straight so the wind catches underneath. These rods separate in the middle so the wings can fold. On our way here we supported our weight through a square frame which pulls down from the wings. There are a variety of other rods framing the wings and then there are leather straps. One for the chest, one for the hips, and loops for the feet. Quite simply, it’s amazing.

During the day, young children fly past Isha’s island to get a look at the stranger in their midst. The most persistent of the group, a boy with flaming red hair, hardly leaves our sight. I badger Crystal with questions until weariness and my sore head finally get the best of me.

I lay in my new tent, which Cris assembled for me, thinking over what I was told. Adox’s father set up the secret village after he was exiled from Osolis as a teenager. The Ire’s made up of family islands, each suspended landmass named after the eldest female living there. When there’s no matriarch, it is named after the eldest male. The communal islands have obvious names like, Farm Rock and Nursery Rock.

I doubt I’ll be here long enough to memorize all of the names, but it doesn’t curb my acute interest. A whole race of people! Surviving amongst the floating islands of the Oscala. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would think it myth or a fantastical story.

I have no idea if I should be here or not. But I’m in no shape to make a decision right now. I’ll do what I should’ve done before leaving the castle, wait a few days before making a choice.

I wake the next day as someone whistles outside of my tent. It takes a while to remember where I am and how I got here.

I crawl outside and blink up into green eyes.

“Is all that hair yours?” he asks.

“There used to be more of it,” Crystal calls. My face warms and I duck back inside to put on more layers and braid my hair.

I exit and join him where he’s receiving breakfast from Isha. She hands me a type of dense bread and fried mushrooms with a sad smile. I heard mother and daughter arguing as I left the fire last night. It was impossible not to overhear. Isha felt betrayed she was the last to know about her daughter’s rape. I could understand why Crystal told strangers first. It was like Ashawn making his confession, or like me showing Kedrick my face, instead of showing my brother. Sometimes it’s easier to tell a person you don’t know. Then if the person judges you, it doesn’t mean as much.

“I’ve slept late,” I mumble around my food.

“It’s normal until you get used to the thin air up here,” Isha says. “Now, your routine. Until you have learned to fly on your own, you will do half a day with Hamish and half a day looking after the children at Nursery Rock.”

I nod and shove the food into my mouth so I can take the clothing she’s holding out. She smiles again as she turns away and a pang of guilt hits me. They all expect me to stay. Less than two days and I have a job, a house and clothing. How can I tell them?

Stooping over in the tent and with more than a little difficulty, I shrug into the tight-fitting garment. The material is similar to that of the flying contraption, but not as thick and a bit shinier. I do a few experimental squats. It’s flexible and doesn’t limit me. It will do.

The flight over to the practicing area is uncomfortable, to say the least. It’s not often I’m pressed flush against a male body. It’s happened more in the last two days than the rest of my life put together. I clench my teeth so tightly they grind, to distract myself from comparing Jovan’s chest to the one currently behind me.

When we land, I barely feel the impact through the balls of my feet. The Soar he’s using is different. He said it’s made specifically for two people. It has two sets of straps and is wider. With this, Hamish glides off Isha’s rock, instead of plunging off like Crystal the day before. He unstraps me and I look around to avoid his gaze.

There are two sides to the island. One side is sheer and drops away into nothingness, like most of the rocks. The other side has five steps cut into it. Each step is bigger than the one above it. The top step is only half a meter. The final step twenty times this height. It’s called the Training Rock.

“Usually we teach the kids from the top, the smallest step, in case they fall, but you can handle a bit higher. You should be flying by lunch time. We’ll start you on the third step down,” he says. We walk down a stairway carved into one side of the training steps. I peer over the edge of the third step. There are only a few meters between here and the dark, solid rock at the bottom. The surface is smooth, possibly from years of children landing there. It will hurt if I mess up, but it won’t kill me.

Hamish has brought a second Soar. As he shows me, I start to understand how when you push and pull on the bar with your hands, it shifts the rods in the top of the frame to tilt the wings. This is how you change your speed and control your landing. And when you pull up on the bar, the rods at the top slide into one another, drawing the wings inward. This is how Crystal gained height, by drawing the wings in and then flinging them out again. I go through assembling it for an hour before he’s confident I’ve gotten it right. I welcome the mental distraction it brings. At least the soreness isn’t around to remind me today.

“I want you to catch the air and attempt a circle before you land. Do you remember what I told you? You have to go against your instincts. You’ll want to bring your legs down, but if you do this while your feet are in the loops, you’ll tilt backward and won’t take flight. Push and pull on the bar to slow before landing and only take your feet out the moment before touching the ground. You’ll be fine - it’s simple.” I give him an uneasy look. It seems like a lot to remember.

I stand on the edge and shuffle the weight of the Soar until it’s in a comfortable position. My set of wings is smaller than Hamish’s. More like Crystal’s.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” He winks and moves a few steps away. His lack of concern gives me confidence. Children do this. I’ll be fine.

I take a deep breath and launch myself off the step.

I groan and roll onto my back at the bottom of the third step, looking up at the underside of the island above.

“Willow!” Hamish looms over me. I wheeze back at him, it’s all I can manage. Veni, that was higher than it looked.

He deftly unstraps me and then sits me up. “Why did you put your legs down? I said not to do that.” He is hugging me now that he’s rattled my teeth.

“I think…I panicked.” I gasp. At least that’s the only explanation I have to describe the feeling of my body overruling my mind a few minutes ago. Normally when my body does that, it’s to help me. Not to smash me against rocks.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone actually fall before. I mean it’s not far, but it doesn’t have to be because the Soar should catch straightaway. Really, the steps are just meant to build confidence before you jump into thin air for the first time,” he babbles. Great. So I was the only person in the history of the Ire to get this wrong. He bends my arms and legs to make sure they’re okay. It’s a nice gesture, but becomes annoying after a while. I push him away and stand, picking up the Soar.

“Alright, let’s go again,” I say, swinging my arms in circles.

Hamish laughs, but breaks off at my curious look. “What? You’re serious?” he asks. “No way are you doing that again. You need rest or something.”

I roll my eyes and hike up the stairs on the side. Hamish checks the Soar for damage and I strap myself in once more.

“This is a bad idea,” he says.

“It will be with that attitude,” I retort and jump.

I glare up at him, temporarily unable to speak due to the air being forced from my lungs.

“It’s not my fault,” he says, “I told you not to go again.”

I don’t even know what I’m doing wrong. It’s like my mind has absolutely no say in what happens and then it’s over by the time my body decides it can’t work the Soar by itself.

Hamish calls it a morning and we head back to Isha’s. I’m going to be covered with bruises by tomorrow. There’s already one forming on my arm.

“How did it go?” Cris asks.

Hamish looks at me and grins. “Uh…not well. I’ve seen five year olds who─” He backs up a little at my scowl. “But it will get better!” he rushes to say. I snort and drag my aching body to my tent.

“I hope,” he says to my back.

The next morning I’m demoted to the second step of the Training Rock for “safety”. All it means is I practice eating rock from a lower height. Looking after the younger children yesterday afternoon was a breeze compared to this humiliation.

“I’m going to strap your bloody feet into the Soar soon!” Hamish says.

“I’m not doing it on purpose,” I snap, rubbing my left shoulder. Thanks to my training in the barracks, my shoulder has fully recovered after it was dislocated during the climb up Oscala a year ago, but I am still wary of reinjuring it.

A hand rests on my shoulder. “I’m not angry at you, I’m angry you’ve been hurt. It’s not nice to watch. Plus, I can’t tie your feet, you won’t be able to land,” he jokes, green eyes lighted with mirth. I give him a dry look and step away when he doesn’t move his hand.

Hamish drops me at the Nursery after our lesson. A large net is strung up between the four islands surrounding the nursery as a safety against children escaping through the fence and falling. I hobble over to Mona, who is what I would call a Matron.

“Flying lessons not going so well?” she asks blandly. She isn’t actually interested in my answer, but feels she has to ask because I’m limping.

The women here are polite to me, perhaps reserving judgement for the moment while they test me. Better than name calling and wiping spit off my boots, I say. And I honestly don’t care what they think. A large part of me knows I’m unlikely to be here long enough to make real friends and their treatment is manageable, so I shrug and get to work, fixing a patch in the low fence surrounding the edge of the island. There is no lack of attention from the tiny children who are curious about the stranger, and too young to dislike me for it. It’s nice to know, wherever I go, children are always the same.

Crystal joins me at the fire that evening and bursts into laughter at my sullen look when she asks how my flying went. She laughs for so long, I eventually join in. It’s a bit ridiculous after all. I’m the best pit fighter on Glacium, but I can’t get the hang of a stupid bit of material on pieces of wood.

“You’ll get it. You’re just overthinking,” she says.

Footsteps sound behind us. I tense, but roll my shoulders to relax them as Hamish thuds down beside me.

“What are you
doing here?” Crystal asks. “Again.”

Hamish shrugs, but I don’t miss the fleeting look he sends my way. Neither does Crystal.

She crosses her arms. “Please Ham. She is so out of your league, it’s not funny.”

I stay silent in case Hamish is offended. He stiffens the slightest bit, but jokes it off. “Well, I’d hardly go for someone in my own league. Plus, I have a secret weapon,” he whispers loudly.

“Persistence,” he says to Crystal’s questioning look. She scoffs. Both of them talk like I’m not here.

He clucks his tongue, just like Mona does in the nursery. “You just wait. I’ll wear her down and eventually she’ll just give up and settle for me.”

I blink at his response. That sounds horrible. “Would you want to be the person someone settled for?” I ask. Crystal laughs, but I’m completely serious.

“No,” Hamish admits, “But my ego is so big, I don’t actually think you’ll have to settle. You’ll eventually fall in love with my charm.”

I make the expected giggle, but his words concern me. With Sin, I always knew his attention was for fun. But Hamish beams at my giggle as though I’ve given him a present.

This sparks a thought. “It’s my birthday soon!” I say.

“That was a change of subject if I ever heard one,” Crystal mutters.

I count the days. “I think it’s in two days. I’ll be nineteen,” I look between them waiting for their gleeful reaction. Hamish congratulates me with a bemused expression I can’t understand. Crystal smiles at my confusion.

“We don’t celebrate birthdays here. Not like they do on Glacium. We’re closer to the Solati in this custom. I’m afraid there won’t be any presents this year,” she says.

I look back at Hamish and find he’s looking at Crystal. “What? Why do they celebrate birthdays?” he asks. “That’s weird.” His reaction almost exactly reflected my own when I was dragged to my birthday party a year ago. I clamp down firmly on a bubble of laughter.

The Ire was a blend of customs from both Glacium and Osolis. They asked questions, but they didn’t celebrate birthdays. Some were careful with their body language, like Isha. Others, like Hamish, were expressive. Many of the Ire folk had appearances which would allow them to live on either Osolis or Glacium, people like me or Crystal. Others I’ve seen here would be recognized as mixed in an instant. There is a little girl at the Nursery Island who has different colored eyes, and there are several people with red or blond hair with brown eyes, a combination not seen on either world.

Despite my own troubles, the workings of the sanctuary make me deeply excited. It is solid proof our two cultures can live together if there is a strong enough reason to. The Ire have to come together to hide their mixed heritage and survive. The key to sustained peace between Glacium and Osolis is finding something to unite them in a common cause.

The third morning I’m taken to the first step, the baby step. Just to further accentuate my failure. If anything, I do worse with the smaller distance - though it doesn’t hurt as much.

I’m not leaving the damn Ire until I learn how to fly.

Hamish throws stones off the side of the step where we sit after I’ve failed enough times to satisfy him.

“I don’t know what else we can do. I guess we just keep on going until you get it,” he says. I flush and brandish a pebble, throwing it to the wind. It falls off into nothingness. I hope it doesn’t land on someone below, but Hamish doesn’t seem worried.

“This is a new experience for you, isn’t it?” he asks.

“What? Flying?” I ask. He shakes his head.

“Sucking at something,” he says. I think about showing some offense, but he seems like he’s genuinely asking. I shrug and nod.

“Thought so. You kicked Rub and Tommy’s arses the other day, when you were talking to Adox. How long have you been fighting?” he asks.

I stand up and brush off the back of my black flying suit. “A while,” I say. I don’t want my past following me here. Most mornings I wake up, I expect someone to have connected the dots. To realize I’m Frost and then to realize I am the Tatuma. How many lies can I tell before I’m caught? I’m lucky no one except Jovan and possibly Rhone knew Frost and Olina were one and the same.