Wingborn (43 page)

“Which is a
cheerful thought on a blizzard night,” Derrain said, raising a
smile from all of them.

“
True.”
Kilai chuckled. “So let’
s leave the raiders and pirates
behind, since the snow keeps them out as nicely as a pyrefly pack.
Tell me what
’
s been
happening here. What
’
s
all this about Cumulo
becoming
a
hero?
”

Mhysra and Derrain exchanged a look and her
friend raised his eyebrows, leaving it for her to tell.
“
Poor Mouse bumped another student
in today
’
s group flight
session and fell off,
”
Mhysra said, not wanting to get into all the details when she still
couldn
’
t believe it
herself.
“
Cue caught
him.
”

Kilai frowned.
“
How did he fall? Did his straps break?
”

Derrain shook his head.
“
Mouse wanted to fly without. We all
do.
”

Kilai
’
s frown deepened, but before he could say anything
else, Jynese nudged his shoulder.
“
Poor lad, I hope he
’
s all right. Fetch the tea, won
’
t you, Kilai?
”
Sufficiently distracted, he got up while Mhysra
told them how Mouse was doing. By the time Kilai returned, his
lecture was forgotten and the subject had turned to something
else.

It was late by the time Mhysra and Derrain
left the kennels, and it was a wrench to abandon the warm fire in
favour of trudging back through the cold. Snow swirled as they
leant shoulder to shoulder, wading through the drifts. It was nice
with just the two of them, as it so rarely was these days. Mhysra
even liked the snow dancing around the lantern that Jynese had
given them.

“
Makes
you wonder, doesn’t it?”
Derrain murmured as they forced
open the door that led back into the citadel.

“About what?”
Mhysra asked, blowing out the lantern and hanging it on a hook.

“What’s going
on out there,” Derrain said, rubbing his arms and shoving the door
closed.

“Mm,” Mhysra
agreed. With the seclusion of the Storm Season being so quickly
followed by these blizzards, Aquila had become a small, isolated
world. She’d been too busy to notice.

“
I’
ve spent most of my life flying from one landmass
to the next,
”
Derrain
mused, throwing an arm over her shoulders as they walked through
the halls, the pair of them huddling together for warmth.
“
Always moving on,
rarely staying still. I never thought I
’
d get used to being stopped for so long. How
quickly we forget.
”

“We’ve been
busy.”

He nodded,
watching their feet. “But it’s more than that. There’s something
different about Aquila.”

“I feel like
I’ve been here forever.”

“Me too,” he
agreed, “and I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

She frowned.
“Why not, since we’re spending three years here?”

Pausing at the
stairs, he stared out through an iced window at the blurry
darkness. “We’re getting too comfortable.”

“Derry?” she
asked, confused as to what had brought on his contemplative
mood.

Giving himself
a shake, he smiled. “Don’t mind me, I’m just thinking out loud.
Poor Mouse, I hope he’s not in too much pain.”

Mhysra winced.
“They gave him something to make him sleep. It was strange to see
him so quiet.” She stared miserably at the floor. “I feel guilty.
So does Cue. Poor Mouse.”

“
Don’
t be daft!
”
Derrain scolded, shaking her shoulders.
“
Cumulo saved his life.
If you
’
re looking for
guilt, send it to the brat that hit Onyx.
”

“
He’
s Kern Whittendowns
’
heir,
”
Mhysra muttered, since the rank of kern was the Greater
West
’
s equivalent to an
Imercian earl. One of wealth and privilege, even here at Aquila
where all were supposed to be equal.
“
Not to mention Willym
’
s favourite. He
’
s going to get away with it, while Mouse has wounds
in his leg deep enough to make him limp. Maybe even
permanently.
”

Derrain hugged her tightly.
“
If you ask Mouse whether he minds
those wounds, I
’
ll bet
he
’
ll tell you he
can
cope. Better lame
than dead.
”

She sniffled against his chest.
“
It
’
s not fair.
”

“
No,” he
agreed, stroking her hair. “But t
hat
’
s the world for you. Come on,
it
’
s late, and
I
’
d rather not fend off
Jermyn swinging sticks at my head when I
’
m only half-awake.
”

She stepped
back and nodded. “Good advice.”

“And coming
from me, too. Proof that miracles do occasionally happen.”

Mhysra grinned.
“
Only occasionally? Should Dhori watch
out?
”

“I
’
ll try not to make a habit of it.
”

“
COME IN, LIEUTENANT.”

Feeling nervous, Lyrai walked into the
dean
’
s office. The room
was filled with the pleasant glow of oil lanterns holding back the
night.
“
You wished to
see me, sir.
”

The dean waved
him in. “I apologise for keeping you waiting, but I believe I have
all the facts now. Please, take a seat.”

“Very good,
sir.” Lyrai nodded warily and sat down.

Since
he’d entered the room, the dean hadn’
t looked at him once.
Instead, Marshall studied the bronze statue on his desk: a miryhl
at the moment of takeoff. The metal was glossy from regular
handling, but still detailed on every feather. It was a beautiful
piece and one that Lyrai had long coveted. The dean stared at it
now as if it could tell him the answers to all the most difficult
questions.
“
What made
you join the Riders?
”

Lyrai frowned.
“
I never dreamed of anything else, sir.
It
’
s a family
tradition.
”

“
Tradition,” Dean Marshall echoed, rubbing his thumb across
the miryhl’
s beak.
“
There are many traditions in the Riders. Some
better than others.
”

“Sir?”

The dean looked at him with a weary smile.
“
Forgive me, Lyrai, I
was pondering. Please tell me your version of today
’
s events.
”

Unsure how much to reveal, Lyrai started at
the beginning. It was one thing to know a fellow lieutenant was
rotten and encouraging his students to go the same way, but another
to say it to a commanding officer. Reminding himself that his first
duty was to his students, especially their safety, Lyrai stuck to
the truth. Even when it didn
’
t put him or Hurricane in the best light.

“Ah.” The dean
nodded when he was done. “Thank you, lieutenant. Your version of
events matches that of others, including your captain. I appreciate
your honesty.”

“Thank you,
sir.”

The dean
sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry that one of
your students was injured, Lyrai. He will, of course, be given all
the best care and attention that we can provide. I will also inform
you of any decisions I make regarding the matter, both before and
after I put them into practise. Will that suffice for the
present?”

It wasn
’
t much but, from the man
’
s obvious fatigue, Lyrai suspected the
dean had bigger issues on his mind. It would have to do. Patronage
was a powerful weapon, even in a place where status should have
been left behind. Bovei
’
s father was wealthy and powerful. Coupled with
Willym
’
s connections, it
made him almost unassailable, especially against a commoner like
Mouse. The dean
’
s word
would have to be enough.

Mustering a smile, he bowed his head.
“
Thank you,
sir.
”

“I will do
what I can. You know that.”

Which meant there was little that the dean
could do.
“
I know,
sir.
”

Marshall walked around the desk to grip
Lyrai
’
s shoulder.
“
You will make an
excellent captain. Myran says it, and I agree. Don
’
t be disheartened, Lyrai. Continue
to care for your students as best you can. It will be
enough.
”

Lyrai could only hope so.
Weary and disillusioned, he stumped down the
tower, wanting nothing more than to sleep for a half-moon and leave
all this ugliness behind. Yet there was one more thing he needed to
do before he sought his bed, so he crossed the bridge and headed
high into the eastern citadel.

Aquila’s
infirmary was fitted with enough space and supplies to deal with a
large emergency. It was designed to treat an entire flight in need,
so it was strangely reassuring to find it so empty. Only one bed
was occupied, watched over by a healer writing by candlelight near
the door.

Lyrai’s boots
echoed on the floor and the healer looked up. “Yes?” he demanded,
squinting into the dark. He blinked a few times, then smiled.
“Lieutenant, I’ve been expecting you.”

Smiling, Lyrai
shook the man by the hand, having been patched up by him many
times. “Healer Nehtl, it’s good to see you. I hope you’re
well.”

“As well as
can be for a man who deals in sickness.” The tall healer shrugged
and waved towards the patient. “He’s sedated but awake. I had to
use enough to down a bullwing just to keep him still. Don’t be too
long.”

Mouse looked
so small, his skin seeming bleached against the pale linen, making
the freckles on his face look like flecks of ink. He stirred at
Lyrai’s approach, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling.

He rolled his
head, disorientated, until he spotted Lyrai. “L’ten’n,” he slurred,
and tried to salute. His coordination was off and he whacked
himself in the eye. Typical Mouse.

Lyrai perched
on the bed, careful not to disturb his legs. “How are you
feeling?”

Mouse grinned.
“Can’t feel a thing. Not ma nose,” – he tried to touch it, and hit
his ear – “nor ma toes.” He smiled blissfully. “Dunno why ‘m here,
but s’nice. You come t’stay too?”

Lyrai shook
his head. “No, I came to see you. You’ve hurt your leg, Mouse.
That’s why you’re here. They gave you something for the pain.”

“Mouse,” he
repeated sleepily, unable to follow so many words. “Tha’s me.”

“So it is,”
Lyrai agreed, standing up. “Can I look at your leg?”

“Have I got
one?”

Taking that as
a yes, Lyrai folded back the blanket to reveal Mouse’s right limb,
heavily bandaged from the top of his thigh down past his knee.
Blood stained the white linen and two darker patches showed where
the puncture wounds must be, the biggest one on the outside of
Mouse’s thigh. With his leg propped up on a number of pillows, it
was clear to see that the wound went straight through the muscle
and out the other side.

“Oh, my,”
Mouse murmured, struggling to sit up enough to look for himself.
“Sum’un was clumsy. D’ya think he’ll lose it?” He stared at his leg
as if it belonged to someone else.

Smiling, Lyrai
covered him up again. “I think he’ll be all right.”

“Good,” Mouse
mumbled, shutting his eyes. Within heartbeats he was snoring.

“Neat and
nicely placed. As long as the bleeding has stopped, I don’t think
we’ll have much trouble with infection.”

Lyrai looked
over at Healer Nehtl. “You’ve got Student Mhysra to thank for that.
She keeps her miryhl clean.”

The healer
stared down at Mouse. “I think he has more than that to thank her
for.”

Unable to
argue, Lyrai thanked the healer for all he’d done, took one last
look at the defenceless lad, so different with all his nervous
energy stripped away, and left. He needed rest, though he doubted
he’d be able to sleep. Visions of whipped miryhls and falling boys
haunted him through the darkness.

24
^th
Winter Rains

“I
DON’T THINK
this is a
good idea,
”
Mhysra
warned, watching Mouse lurch to the windowsill.

“If I want to walk again, I have to
walk,
”
Mouse panted,
waving away Derrain
’
s
help. White lines were etched at the corners of his mouth, but no
one mentioned them.

After almost a month in the infirmary,
fighting off infections as well as the damage of the puncture
wounds, Mouse had spent most of the last two moons hobbling around
on crutches. The healers still worked with him when the rest of the
first-years did their physical training. Thanks to them, Mouse
would eventually be able to walk without a stick, but only if he
was sensible. And patient. Since this was Mouse, Mhysra
didn
’
t hold out much
hope. Especially as he
’
d
decided to forego his crutches entirely this morning.

“Ready to try?
”
Derrain asked, pushing the others aside.