Wingborn (29 page)

If she had
been listening to anyone but her mother, Mhysra might have felt
hopeful. Instead her throat grew tight and her heart heavy. She
didn’t want to know what was coming next.

“
Since
you have publicly embarrassed your father, he has handed you over
to me. A little earlier than planned, but perhaps it’s best. Nimbys
is clearly not the best place for you. Your father is too busy to
oversee your day-to-day behaviour and Milluqua has proven herself
incapable, seeing as she has aided you in your deception.” Mhysra
winced, hoping that her sister hadn’t been blamed for any of this.
“Now that your social debut must wait for the gossip about your
misbehaviour to die down, you will come with me. The
Illuminai
will keep you
occupied.”

Mhysra gasped,
though her throat was so tight she could barely breathe. Her head
throbbed and her eyes burned, but not with tears. “What –”

“Do not,” Lady
Kilpapan interrupted sternly, “mention Cumulo. We’ve had this
conversation before. I told you what the price of disobedience
would be. Your aunt refuses to take him back with her, but since
you will be on the same voyage I have come to believe that is the
wisest choice. Instead I will visit the Rift Rider offices
tomorrow. I am certain they will take him, and gladly, for they
need every miryhl they can get.”

Mhysra barely
heard – she was too busy trying to breathe past the clamp around
her chest. There was no way the Riders would accept Cumulo without
her. Once bonded a miryhl rarely took a new Rider. A Wingborn was
likely to kill any who tried. Cumulo wouldn’t leave her, he
couldn’t.

“Do not
misunderstand me, Mhysra,” her mother continued, uncaring of the
storm she was creating, “you are not being punished. It may seem
that way, but you are misguided and ignorant. You’re no longer a
child. The time has come for adulthood. You require more educating
than your father and I realised, so the fault for this
embarrassment lies partly with us. That is why we are taking these
steps. You will forget your foolishness and appreciate the
advantages of a respectable life, while Cumulo will be happier with
a real Rift Rider. It is for the best.”

Finally Lady
Kilpapan looked at her daughter, eyebrows raised, awaiting an
answer. Mhysra stared back, her expression mirroring the countess’
– cold, with the anger shoved down deep. Perhaps they were more
alike than she realised.

Thinking of
Cumulo, Mhysra couldn’t even fake a smile. “Do you expect my
gratitude?”

Lady Kilpapan
looked amused. “No. That will come later. All that matters now is
that you accept. You are so eager for duty, Mhysra, and this is the
one life has dealt you.”

“I am
Wingborn,” she stated flatly, despite wanting to scream until the
whole city heard. She wanted to storm, rage and throw tantrums
until her parents relented and let her make her own choices. But
Lady Kilpapan wanted her to do that so she could accuse her of
childishness again. Then, as a superior adult, she would feel
justified in taking her wayward child in hand.

“An
unfortunate happenstance. It was an accident of birth, but one
without any real meaning.” The countess waved away the most
important bond in Mhysra’s life with a blasé flick of her hand.
“You were raised together, so of course you feel close.
Understandable but easily put aside, like all childish things.
Come, Mhysra, you know how this will end. Save yourself and Cumulo
the unnecessary suffering. It is time you both grew up and accepted
your places in life. You belong with your family, he belongs with
the Rift Riders.”

“My family
lives at Wrentheria.”

A muscle in
Lady Kilpapan’s jaw ticked as she clenched her teeth. “Stop this
foolishness, Mhysra. You are a Kilpapan. You will remain with
us.”

Mhysra met the
countess’ eyes, satisfied to finally see the anger sparkling there.
“So you say.”

“Indeed.” Lady
Kilpapan tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gathered her
things from the desk. “You are tired. We will discuss this in the
morning.” As she reached the door, she paused to look at her
daughter in the shadows. “It will be better this way.”

The door
closed, leaving Mhysra confused by the abrupt conclusion to their
conversation. Surely it couldn’t end so easily? Surely her parents
wouldn’t be so foolish? They’d dictated to her before and it hadn’t
worked. Tomorrow, she’d sneak out at dawn again, and this time she
wouldn’t come back.

A scrape
sounded at the door, followed by a click.

Mhysra leapt
across the room and seized the knob. Too late. She rattled the
handle and pounded on the wood, shouting for help, but there was no
answer.

The door was
locked. She was trapped.

32
^nd
Fledgling

M
HYSRA WAS WAITING
when her mother came to see her the
next morning. The sun was already high in the sky, but
she
’
d been up since
dawn, unable to stop herself from pacing. What was she going to do?
How was she going to get out of this? It was worse than
she
’
d ever imagined.
Yes, she
’
d known her
parents would be angry with her, possibly even disown her, but
imprisonment? And Mherrin said that Rift Riders were
melodramatic.

Despite having paced every inch of her
bedroom in her impatience, watched mournfully by a subdued Bumble,
Mhysra threw herself into the nearest chair the moment she heard
the key snap in the lock. Her mother likely knew how frustrated,
angry and anxious Mhysra was feeling, but she was damned if
she
’
d give the countess
the satisfaction of seeing it.

So this time it was Mhysra sitting calmly at
her desk when her mother entered the room, but Lady Kilpapan did
not come alone. The door was opened for her by a bulky skysailor,
whose chief qualifications for the work appeared to be his bulging
muscles. Behind the countess came a second skysailor, similar
enough to be the first
’
s
burlier brother. He carried a breakfast tray, which he took over to
Mhysra at the countess
’
command.

Though big and intimidating, his bald head
covered with tattoos, the sailor smiled at her and murmured
something polite-sounding in Mistrunan. His friendliness caught her
off-guard and she thanked him, wondering if he was to be her
jailor.

At a nod from Lady Kilpapan, the men took up
station either side of the door, while she advanced into the room.
Noticing the bag Mhysra had packed during the night, in a fit of
helpless defiance, the countess smiled.
“
You
’
re ready to go. Good. We leave this
afternoon.
”

Glancing at the guards and deciding she
didn
’
t care how much
Imercish they understood, Mhysra crossed her arms over her chest.
“
What makes you think
I
’
m coming with
you?
”

Lady Kilpapan arched an eyebrow, but ignored
her in favour of opening the wardrobe.
“
You will need to pack a few more bags. These
dresses will be useful for when we dine with our favoured clients.
Breeches and shirts are well enough for the deck,
”
the disparaging glance she cast over
Mhysra
’
s current attire
suggested otherwise,
“
but we must also be prepared for elegance, when the
situation calls for it.
”

Turning to her men, she issued a stream of
Mistrunan. The smiling one bowed his head and slipped out of the
door.
“
Talro will bring
more bags for you.
”

When Mhysra said nothing, knowing it would
be futile to argue, her mother frowned.
“
You should eat. We have a long voyage
ahead of us.
”

Torn between going on hunger-strike or
maintaining her resources in the hope of an escape, Mhysra
compromised by pouring herself a glass of apple juice.
“
Have you visited the Rider offices
yet?
”
she asked,
half-hoping that by doing so her mother would draw attention to her
missing daughter and perhaps bring about a rescue. Yet she also
feared some ignorant and unfeeling clerk would accept Cumulo
without question, not caring what had happened to his troublesome
female Rider.

Flicking through the beautiful dresses
hanging in Mhysra
’
s
wardrobe, the countess gave a dismissive wave of her hand.
“
Your father has agreed
to sort that out once we are gone. The last thing we need is any
interference. Those Riders think too highly of themselves these
days.
”
Though her scowl
was directed at a silver gown, it was clear she was thinking back
to the recent party disaster and the scene with Captain Myran and
his men.

Silently fuming as this last sliver of hope
was crushed, Mhysra took a fierce bite of toast. The butter was
unpleasantly salty and she reached for her juice. The cool
sharpness sent a shiver through her.

“
Yes,
your father and I have arranged everything to our satisfaction.”
Her mother emerged from the wardrobe with an armful of dresses,
which she tossed casually onto the bed. Her eyes flickered over her
daughter, seeing the half-eaten slice of toast on her plate and the
mostly empty glass in her hand. She smiled. “You’
ll need
more than that. We are heading straight for Wrentheria and I have
much to teach you.
”

Despair crashed over Mhysra, making her head
throb and her heart ache.
“
Why are you doing this?
”
she whispered, drinking more juice in an effort to
wash away the unpleasant aftertaste of the butter.

“
Because
I must,” her mother replied, coming over to pour her another glass
and forcing it into Mhysra’
s suddenly heavy hand.
“
Drink up. It
’
s for the good of the family.
You
’
ll understand that
one day.
”

Obeying the command, Mhysra tried to lift
the glass, except her arm felt so weak. She managed a few more sips
before the glass slipped from her hand.
“
What have you done?
”
she tried to ask, but her words slurred
as an ache in her head made the room go dark.

“
What I
had to,” the countess said, brushing the hair off Mhysra’
s
face with a surprisingly gentle hand.
“
You are my daughter. Did you really expect me to
believe you would go quietly?
”

The door opened again as Mhysra
’
s vision blurred and faded.
“
Ah, Talro,
”
she heard her mother say.
“
I have some luggage for
you to carry. Memlo, bring the dog.
”

The last thing Mhysra remembered was Bumble
growling, while a kind voice murmured foreign words in her ear,
then she was floating and the darkness swept in to claim her.

DERRAIN KNEW HE
should have been packing up his things and saying farewell to his
friends in Nimbys before he left for Aquila, but somehow he just
couldn
’
t stay away from
the eyries. Though he
’
d
always admired miryhls and had enjoyed watching them fly,
he
’
d never fully
understood Mhysra
’
s
fascination with the eyries. Until now.

Now that he had a miryhl of his own, he
couldn
’
t keep away. He
had no idea what a Rider was supposed to do for their miryhl, but
he figured it was never too early to learn. That
’
s why he left his lodgings at first light
and climbed the slope out of the city. Since the new miryhls were
still being housed in the temporary building, Derrain checked the
main eyries as he passed and was disappointed to find that Mhysra
wasn
’
t already there.
Since he was certain he
’
d see her later, he swallowed his questions and
walked on.

He was soon so absorbed in getting to know
Zephyr that he barely noticed anyone else at all. Whatever
tentative thoughts he might once have formed about his relationship
with his future miryhl had been completely swept away by the
reality of Zephyr, her calm, quiet voice and gentle manner.

She was beautiful and he thanked all the
gods he could name that Mhylla had led him to her, before anyone
else had chosen her.

That morning she
’
d taken him patiently through the composition of
her wings, telling him the names of her feathers, muscles and
tendons, what they did and why they were important. Now it was his
turn to prove that he
’
d
been listening.

Running his hand along the top tendon of
Zephyr
’
s outstretched
wing, he splayed his fingers through the strong, broad feathers at
the end.
“
These are the
primary flight feathers and they –
”

A loud squawk interrupted him and he glanced
over at the pen on his left.

“
Oh,
Maegla, I’
m sorry!
”
Corin wailed, hiding her face in her hands, while
her miryhl frantically preened beneath her wing.

Sharing an amused glance with Zephyr,
Derrain ducked beneath the partition rope and peeled a hand away
from Corin
’
s face.
“
What
happened?
”

“
I was
trying to groom Wisp, but I’
ll never get it
right!
”
Corin cried, and
threw herself at Derrain
’
s chest.