«Aiyah.»
“You made them from nothing. Isn’t that supposed to be difficult?”
“It is,” Bel said. “He shows off for his mate.” There was dry humor, friendly mockery, and a trace of envy in Bel’s voice that would no doubt have embarrassed him if he’d heard it.
Rain hissed at his friend and tossed his head.«Allow me to put your coat away, shei’tani.»That was all the warning she had before her long leather coat disappeared.
“Where did it go?”
«Behind you.»She twisted in the tall saddle and saw the small, bulging pouch strapped behind her.«When you need it, I will return it to you. There are grips in the front of the saddle. Use them and hold tight. When I launch us into the air, you will feel a jolt.»She found the grips and wrapped her fingers tightly around them.«Are you ready?»
She swallowed as excitement and nervousness bubbled inside her. “Yes.”
«Then hold on.»She could practically feel the power building in him as he rocked back on his hind legs and his muscles bunched tight. His wings unfurled and spread wide. They flapped once, twice, whipping up swirls of dust from the ground. Then he sprang, a mighty leap, powered by Air that rocketed them into the sky.
Ellie screamed, more from surprise and the queer feeling in her stomach than from fright, though if not for the handholds and the tall saddle, she would have tumbled off Rain’s back when he took off. As it was, her body rocked hard against the back of the saddle, then snapped forward when the sudden initial surge of power ceased and the more fluid motion of true tairen flight began.
Massive wings beat the air, and Rain’s tairen body undulated in a sinuous rhythm like waves rolling in the open sea. His neck stretched out, strong and straight, his head a fixed point that speared through the sky like an arrowhead.
The wind whistled across Ellie’s face, fresh and cold and sweet. It blew her braided hair behind her, whipped at her skirts and chemise sleeves, and made her glad for the leather breeches Rain had provided. The ground below swept past, the blocks of fields and tiny villages looking more like a patterned tapestry than the world she knew. Above, infinity waited, beckoning to her with sunlit skies and the delicate puffs of white clouds she could almost reach out and touch.
“I’m flying,” she whispered. “I’m really flying.” Joy unlike any she’d ever known filled her. She flung out her arms and lifted her face to the wind, laughing with uncontainable happiness. “This is wonderful!”
«You like it, then?»
“Like it? I love it! I adore it!” If not for the waist-high frontridge of the saddle, she would have flung herself against his neck and squeezed him tight. “Oh, Rain. Thank you.”
«It pleases me to bring you joy, shei’tani.»Her happiness was contagious. No tairen could ever grow bored of the sky, but sharing it with her, feeling her joy, made Rain recall the thrill of his first flight, the laughing exaltation, the feeling of immense freedom, the knowledge that he was a master of the world and anything was possible. He wanted to give her pleasure, open the world to her, and stand by her side as she discovered its wonders. There was so much he could show her—literally an entire world. For the first time in a long, long while, Rain was glad to be alive, glad to be Fey and a Tairen Soul.«Where would you like to go, Ellysetta?»
He felt her eagerness, her excitement. “I don’t care. I just want tofly.”
«Then hold tight.»
He folded his wings, and they plummeted fast and hard, diving towards the earth. Ellysetta screamed with laughter and held tight to the saddle, fearless even as the ground rushed up to meet them. Rain’s heart swelled at her trust and complete lack of fear. His wings spread wide, and the rapid dive became a swooping ascent that left Ellysetta breathless yet still laughing.
With joy in his heart, Rain Tairen Soul soared across the sky.
Den Brodson smiled as he watched thin, gangly little Tomy Sorris scribble the last of his notes on the pages spread out before him. “You have it all, then?” The pair of them sat in the private back room at the Charging Boar. A nearly empty pint of Red Skull sat on the scarred wooden table before Den, and a half glass of well-watered ale sat before the printer’s son.
“I do. Thanks for the story, Den!” Tomy tipped his ink-stained wool cap with one hand while the other busied itself stuffing the pages into his satchel. “It’s a beaut. And I’m grateful you took time to write most of it down for me first. The less I have to write, the quicker Da can get it into print.”
“No problem at all, Tomy. Give your Da my best. And be sure he uses that one paragraph I showed you, exactly as I’ve written it.” Those words, Batay had promised him, would sway simple minds, in particular the minds of readers who rarely thought for themselves. A spell of persuasion, buried not in the ink or the paper used to write them, but tied to the very words themselves. Already, Den had met and distributed the copied pages to half a dozen pamphleteers and newspaper writers.
“I will,” the printer’s boy promised. “Exactly as it’s written.”
“And don’t use my name, remember. I don’t want to get my Da in trouble with the king.” Den pasted a sober expression on his face. “I just want to see justice for Ellie. Sold out, she was. Sold out to a murderous sorcerer for a chest of magic-cursed gold.”
“Ooh, that’s good.” Tomy paused to scratch Den’s words down on the last piece of paper before stuffing it away and carefully stowing his ink and pen. He straightened and scratched his head. “But, you know, Ellie’s always fancied the Fey. Maybe she’s happy with the way things have turned out.”
“Women fancy tigers,” Den snapped. “Doesn’t mean they want to bed down with the beasts.” He lifted his now-warm mug of Red Skull and downed the last quarter pint. “No, she’s been ensorcelled. Her whole family has. And it’s up to us—plain folk like you and me, Tomy—to save her.”
The boy squared his shoulders and nodded. “You’re right, Den. I’ll do my part. People have a right to know what the Fey are up to.”
“Indeed they do.” Den clapped a hand on the boy’s shoulder and escorted him out the Charging Boar’s back door. He waited for the boy to disappear down the alleyway before closing the door and making his way back into the main pub. “Thanks, Briggs.” He waved to the bartender as he walked past.
“No problem, Den. You off, then?”
Den nodded. “To church.”
