Wingborn (33 page)

“
You
caught me,” she whispered, rubbing her cheek against the cool silk
of his feathers. “Thank Maegla, you caught me. I knew you would. I
knew you’
d find me. I knew you
’
d catch me.
”

“I will always
catch you,” he promised vehemently. “But promise something, Mhysra.
You have to promise.”

“Anything.”

“Never do that
again.”

She laughed, long and hard with a hint of
tears, while Cumulo flew home through the sunset, surrounded by the
protection of the Rift Riders.

On board the Thorncrest

14
^th
Harvest

T
HE
SHIP CREAKED
and groaned
as Mhysra stared at the slats of the bed above. She should have
been sleeping, but the boisterous sounds coming from the common
room next door prevented that. Instead she lay in bed, brooding.
Cumulo would tell her to stop, but he was below with the other
miryhls, enjoying himself, still half-delirious over the chase and
catch of the
Illuminai
a
half-moon ago.

She was alone
– Bumble’s sprawled form across her feet didn’t count – wondering
whether she’d done the right thing. Yes, her escape from her mother
had been both necessary and exciting, and made her a minor hero
amongst her peers, but the thought of what her parents might do
next made her nervous. The Kilpapan family was rich and
influential. Her father was favoured by the Stratys. If he chose,
he could make her life extremely awkward. Would the Riders protect
her against the displeasure of the Stratys? She was just one set of
wings.

What about the
rest of her family? Would Milluqua be punished? Would Aunt Mhylla
still care for her? And what of Kilai, her mostly-forgotten
brother, and the one she would likely face first? Would he be at
Aquila? Would he take their parents’ side and avoid her? Was she
really no longer a Kilpapan? Must she called herself Mhysra
Wrentherin from now on? There were no answers and not knowing any
of it made her feel ill.

“What’s so
fascinating up there?” The bunk dipped as Derrain slid in beside
her. “No,” he murmured. “I can’t see it. Care to share?”

“I’m
sleeping.” She elbowed him in the ribs, not that it made the
slightest difference.

“With your
eyes open and everything. Can you teach me that trick?” he teased,
then pulled a face. “You can’t brood the whole voyage away. It’s a
waste.”

“As if we’ve
never sailed before,” she muttered, rolling on her side towards him
and pulling her legs up to kick him off the bunk. He tumbled to the
floor with an inelegant thud.

“Heirayk rose
on your best side this morning.”

“Go away,
Derry, I’m not in the mood,” she grumbled, shifting onto her back
again.

“
No,
you’re in
a
mood,” he
retorted, tugging her arm. “Come on. You’re missing the
fun.”

Since they’d
been sailing for eleven days, mostly over empty clouds, Mhysra
doubted she was missing anything. “We’re heading north-west,” she
complained. “It’s cold.”

“It’s autumn.
Don’t be a wimp. Come up on deck. You know you want to.”

She
didn’t. It
was
cold. Autumn
was rushing to meet them and the crackling pressure in the air
meant a storm. She had no wish to be outside when the rain started.
He yanked her half off the bunk, much to Bumble’s
disgruntlement.

Mhysra
growled, “Get off me.”

“Not until you
come up on deck.”

“I’ve been on
deck. I’ve seen it. The ship’s nice, but the view’s just clouds.
Clouds, clouds, clouds!” Her voice took on a hysterical edge. “I
don’t want to see any more clouds!”

For a moment
Derrain looked taken aback, then he grabbed her other arm and
hauled her into a sitting position. “Because moping about over
things you can’t change is so much better.”

She scowled,
but didn’t protest when he dragged her to her feet. Maybe she
didn’t fancy the bitter wind on deck, but it did beat worrying
about the mess she’d left behind. “You win.”

“I always do,”
he agreed, as Mhysra tugged on her boots and snatched up her
coat.

“Coming, pup?”
she called, when Derrain dragged her to the door.

Bumble opened
an eye, groaned and settled back to sleep under a fluffy wing.

“I don’t know
who I hate more – you or the dog,” Mhysra grumbled.

“You can’t
hate me, I’m adorable,” Derrain protested, jogging up the first
flight of steps and hauling her along.

“You’re right,
what was I thinking? Of course I hate you more. It’s hardly
Bumble’s fault she’s not stupid enough to do your bidding.”

“Such a merry
temperament, love. Can’t think why you didn’t stay in Nimbys and
get married. How the suitors would fight over you.”

Mhysra’s scowl
wobbled as she bit back a smile. “Fight to escape marrying me, you
mean.”

“Would I ever
be so uncouth?” Derrain replied, attempting to look wounded.

“Idiot.” She
rolled her eyes and scurried up the last ladder. At the top, a
brisk wind slapped her face and she yelped, trying to duck back
below.

“Keep moving,”
Derrain urged, shoving her up again. “You’re not the only person on
this ship, you know.”

“I’ll kill you
for this,” Mhysra growled, tugging her coat collar tighter around
her neck. She could smell rain. Why was she cursed with such
persistent friends, ones who dragged her outside in all weathers
regardless of her wishes? Ones with charming smiles and easy
manners that meant she was the only person to see them for what
they really were. Mhysra wanted to chop him into tiny bits and feed
him to the pyreflies as a bitter gust tore her coat open.

“Glorious
weather, don’t you think?” Dhori called, as Derrain shifted to
stand in front of Mhysra, protecting her from the worst of the wind
while she fixed her buttons and buckles. She smiled weakly. Dhori
looked in his element, balancing on the side rail with neither coat
nor hat. His eyes were bright as he jumped down, fidgety with
suppressed energy. “A storm’s coming.”

“I know,”
Mhysra grumbled, shoving her hands into her pockets and shaking the
hair from her eyes. “You don’t have to look so happy about it.”

“It’s Maegla’s
blessing,” Dhori replied, his smile serene.

Derrain
snorted. “Clearly you’ve never sailed through a thunder storm.”

“He soon
will,” Mhysra said, gripping her coat as another gust tormented
her.

Dhori laughed,
lifting his face to the wind. “If only. Did you come to see the
view?”

“What, of
clouds, clouds and more clouds?” Mhysra muttered, glowering at
Derrain. “I hope that’s not what you dragged me out here for.”

The lads
smiled and Dhori grabbed her hand. “Come look.”

“I’m too
tired,” she protested as he towed her towards the prow.

Derrain nudged
her shoulder. “The sooner you look, the sooner you can go in.
Promise.”

“Fine.” She
decided to humour him, using her free hand to hold her hair off her
face. Rain splattered against her cheeks as they wove between the
bustling crew. “It’s cold.”

“Hush,” Dhori
chided. Icy hands covered her eyes and she yelped, but Dhori
shushed her again. “You’ll spoil the surprise.”

“Your hands
are freezing!”

“Sorry,”
Derrain said, sounding far too cheerful. “But you’ll thank me
later.”

“I doubt it.”
She opened her mouth to start another round of complaints just as
Derrain removed his hands. Her breath caught in a gasp as she
stared at the view half-hidden by misty rain.

“Sweet
Maegla,” she whispered.

“Her greatest
blessing,” Dhori agreed. “A good sign, don’t you think?”

Ahead rose a
solitary mountain, its peak hidden by thick clouds, but it was more
than a bleak, granite face. The first thing she noticed was the
waterfall, cascading hundreds of feet down through the clouds
below. Then she saw the white towers connected by a bridge, arching
high over the surging river. A citadel, with twin towns clinging to
the cliffs below, crisscrossed with aqueducts.

The epitome of
all her dreams: Aquila.

“Maegla
welcomes Her Riders home,” Dhori whispered in her ear, and she
blinked hard.

“I never knew…
It’s so beautiful.”

“It’s rainy
and bleak,” Sergeant Rees said sourly. “Only a female could think
it beautiful.”

“Or a Rider,”
Lieutenant Stirla disagreed. “We’re a romantic bunch, us Riders.
I’ll admit this weather doesn’t do it many favours, but on a sunny
day even you must agree it’s pretty, Rees.”

Tearing her
eyes from the view she smiled at Stirla. “I look forward to seeing
it in the sun.”

The lieutenant
squeezed her shoulder with a broad hand. “Time to tack up. Mhysra,
Dhori, you can fly yourselves in. Derrain, since you have
experience on skyships, could you help my Riders set up the
bullwing boats? It’s going to be a interesting trip in this
weather.”

“Aye,
lieutenant,” the students chorused, saluting.

“
Rees,
you’re for the
Miryhl Shadow
.
Tell Lyrai and Captain Myran what we’re about.”

“Aye,
lieutenant.”

As the
sergeant stumped off, Stirla eyed the three students still
transfixed by the view. “It won’t vanish if you turn your backs on
it,” he assured them, amused. “The quicker you do, the faster we’ll
get there. Go!”

THE RAIN WAS
torrential as the two skyships docked by the eastern spur
outside Aquila. Wide caves offered enough room for the ships to
wait out the storm in safety and comfort. For the students and
Riders, though, the journey continued.

Waiting by the
cave mouth with Cumulo, Mhysra stared at the rain and for the first
time ever wished she didn’t have to fly.

“You were the
one desperate to come,” her miryhl grumbled, as she secured her
hat.

She grimaced
and ignored him, looking back at the transport being set up for the
students. Each boat seated fifteen and was carried by four
bullwings. With Dhori and Mhysra flying in by miryhl that left two
boats of students and two of baggage, along with thirty free
miryhls.

“I’m so glad
I’ve got you,” she told Cumulo, scrambling into the saddle as the
students filled the boats. None of them looked happy. Nor did the
Riders who had to herd the flock of young miryhls through the
rain.

Only one
person looked cheerful: Dhori. Seated on Latinym’s back, the
student’s eyes were fixed on the hammering rain, his mouth curved
in a delighted smile.

“There’s
something not right about him,” Cumulo murmured, and Mhysra
chuckled. Dhori was strange, in a pleasant way. Usually she liked
storms, but not for flying through.

“You said you
wanted more adventure, Cue.”

“Must have
been moulting.”

“Riders, move
out!” Lieutenant Stirla ordered, and four Riders took off with six
free miryhls. Next, Stirla escorted the first boat with Rees in
support, then more miryhls, followed by Lieutenant Lyrai and Honra
with the second boat. Dhori and Mhysra were with the third batch of
miryhls, while Captain Myran oversaw the supplies and remaining
miryhls.

She hunched
against Cumulo’s back and they dived into the rain. Both winced at
the slap of wind and water, but they’d flown through enough bad
weather to settle quickly. Dusk was sweeping in as the storm poured
down the side of the mountain. Flashes flickered in the gloom,
illuminating the white citadel and lighting their way home.

Latinym swept
alongside. “Maegla welcomes us!” Dhori whooped as thunder
boomed.

“Cracked as an
egg,” Cumulo grumbled, flapping hard as the cold waterfall
disturbed the air.

With the storm
getting ever closer, the miryhls didn’t spare the time to circle
upwards, instead taking the harder route of flying straight to the
top of the falls. As they got closer to the enormous structure
spanning the river, Mhysra realised the bridge was riddled with
holes. The bullwing boats went over the top, but the miryhls darted
through the hatches into the dry, if not the warmth. It was an
antechamber to the eyries, where miryhls could be handled without
disturbing the rest of the flock.

“Brr,” Cumulo
shivered, landing and fluffing out his feathers. “Call this a
welcome?”

Mhysra hopped
off and Dhori did the same, quickly untacking their miryhls and
gathering drying cloths. Rumpling her big miryhl, Mhysra praised
his bravery while the storm snarled ever closer. Attendants
appeared to take care of the new miryhls and the air was full of
greetings between Riders.

“New miryhls,
follow me!” a booming voice commanded, even louder than
Stirla’s.

Mhysra peered
around Cumulo’s wing in time to see a tall Rider climb a ladder
into the eyries above. “Better go,” she urged her miryhl. “It’ll be
warm in there.”

Cumulo rubbed
his beak against her, then flapped after the Rider. Hurricane
swooped in just ahead of him and Mhysra winced, hoping Cumulo
wouldn’t cause trouble. The rest of the new miryhls jostled after
them.

“We’ll have
trouble with those two,” someone chuckled, and she turned to the
man dressed in an everyday Rider uniform of brown and black. His
voice seemed vaguely familiar, his accent softened by a hint of the
Lowlands. Then a flash of lightning lit the room and the Rider’s
face.

“Kilai!” she
shrieked, jumping into her brother’s arms.

Laughing, he
lifted her off the ground. “Welcome to Aquila, brat.”

“Kilai,” she
murmured as he put her down, unable to tell him how much she’d
worried about seeing him again, fearing he wouldn’t want to know
her. “Oh, I’ve missed you.”