Earth Bound (3 page)

Talon stared at the summons in his hand, wanting to tear the paper into pieces. He’d managed to avoid his father for two days, this he couldn’t ignore. “Tell him I’ll be there soon.”

“But-” the boy’s words stopped when Talon shut the door in his face.

He ignored the knocking on his door as he locked it and strode to his bed where he dropped the summons. Once his shirt was unbuttoned, it and the bandages joined the paper. After several deep breaths, his wings rose from his back and he winced at the pain as they stretched, his hands curling into fists. There had to be a way to get rid of them. He couldn’t keep doing this. Hiding in his room or keeping them bound so they couldn’t escape and betray him. Letting them out, when they were long past cramped and pain arrowed through his body, was becoming more difficult every day. There had to be some way to be rid of them.

It took several minutes of concentration before he finally forced them to retract. He wrapped the bandages around his chest, hiding the bony ridges and preventing his wings from escaping.

As soon as his shirt was buttoned, he strode towards his father’s office to find Bellamy waiting in the corridor. With a daggered look at Bellamy, Talon flung open the door and strode inside, slamming the door shut behind him. He stood at the desk, staring at his father’s bent head as he scrawled line after line on an open book.

When Talon was about to demand his father’s attention, he finally looked up, placing the pen beside the book. “Sit down, Talon.” He gestured towards the chair in front of him.

Talon continued to stand. “You wanted to see me?”

“Sit down.” This time the words were a command.

Talon ignored them. “Will this take long? I’m in the middle of a painting that’s going really well.” The disappointed look his father gave him made him want to take the words back, but he couldn’t.

Barrett rose to his feet. “It’s well past time I choose a replacement for Farren.”

Talon nodded slowly. He knew this moment had to come. Farren, his father’s cousin, had died in battle several months ago and should have been replaced well before this. “He will be missed.”

Barrett slammed his hands against the desk. “I didn’t bring you here for platitudes. I want you to captain his unit under my guidance and continue with your training.”

“I’m not in the army anymore.” Once he would have begged for the chance to be a unit captain.

“Don’t give me that rubbish. A two-year-old could paint better than you.”

He wanted to argue, but every word was true and he was sick of explaining himself. It was impossible to keep his wings retracted all the time. What other excuse could he use for shutting himself away in his room for hours on end, sometimes days? All he could do was meet his father’s glare.

“Well? When are you going to forget this stupidity and return to the army?” Barrett made a jabbing gesture towards the door. “Or do I offer the position to someone else?”

He didn’t need to be told who that someone else was. Hands curled into fists and his jaw tightened as he held back the words he wanted to speak.

“Well?”

Talon’s words were soft, the anger barely held at bay. “I can’t live without my art.”

“Then do it as a hobby.” The words were sharp, the stare cutting.

His father wouldn’t understand and he couldn’t explain. If Barrett knew, he not only risked his livelihood as War Leader of his people, but also his life for letting Talon live. Talon didn’t know what his father would do. Save his son or keep his position by accusing him of having wings.

“Are you even paying attention to me?”

“Are you paying attention to me?”

Barrett pointed a finger at his son. “This is your last chance. You walk out that door,” his finger aimed at the door, “And you are nothing. Do you understand? Nothing. Your art can’t do for you what this position can.”

Talon could only nod. More than anything else he wanted to captain his own unit. To be trained by his father, in the hope of becoming the next War Leader of Terst.

“Well?”

“Without my art, I can’t live.” He turned away, staring at the door several steps away, unable to move.

“Send Bellamy in.”

His eyes closed at the pain those words caused. Then he realised it was physical pain. Even after taking the time to stretch his wings, they wanted to break free. He hurried forward, the pain increasing as he flung open the door. Leaving the door open, he strode towards his room, not bothering to pass on the message.

He hadn’t needed to. Behind him he heard his father roar Bellamy’s name and he broke into a run. That was his place. Bellamy was stealing his position, stealing everything he’d always wanted.

Reaching his room, Talon flung his door open, stepping out of the way as it crashed closed. Locking the door, he tore his shirt from his body, flinging it and the bandages to the ground as he sank to his knees. He fell forward, his hands colliding with the stone floor as black wings rose up around him. A sound drew his head up, his teeth clenched tight as he fought against the pain. His fifteen-year-old sister stood beside the window, mouth open, shock in her brown eyes.

“Talon?” She took a step forward, a hand outstretched.

“Garnet.” He struggled to his feet, trying desperately to retract his wings. They wouldn’t obey, remaining around him like an unwanted cloak.

She shook her head, straight black hair flying around her face and shoulders. “No. Not you. I can’t lose you.” She ran towards him and threw her arms around him.

“Garnet-” he broke off the assurances that would have been lies, enfolding her in his arms. “I’m sorry.” He felt her tears against his bare chest and his arms tightened. “Shh Garnet. Shh.”

“They’ll kill you.”

“One day. But not until they know.”

She tilted her head upwards, tears staining her cheeks, her brown eyes filled with more. “How long?”

“When I was eighteen.”

Her mouth opened, closed and opened again. “When you quit the army. Oh Talon.” She buried her head against his chest again.

“Shh.” Her pain was tearing him apart. If he’d had the strength he would have ended it all before now instead of risking his family being sentenced with him.

Again she looked up at him. “We have to do something. Can’t we get rid of them?”

“Do you think I haven’t tried?”

“Does our father know?”

“No.” The word came out sharper than he planned.

“Anyone?”

“No.”

“Why? Why you?”

He had no answer for her. It was a question he’d asked a million times and never once had he received an answer. “When I’m caught, you have to deny you ever knew. They’d kill you too.” He wished he could tell her it would be safer for her to turn him in, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to die. Facing death in battle was different from being hung like a criminal.

Brianne ran a hand over her head again. The stubble felt strange after having long hair her entire life. A sound had her reaching for the bow, which hung at her back. She grabbed an arrow with her other hand as she spun to see Macklyn flying towards her. Lowering the bow she continued to hold it and the arrow as he flew towards her, a sack in his hands.

She ran her tongue over the almost healed split in her upper lip, smiling slightly at the memory of her fight with Macklyn. A pity they’d dragged them apart so soon, but at least she’d managed to blacken his eye and cause more damage than the single split lip he’d given her.

As Macklyn landed in the gully, she squinted her eyes against the red dust that swirled around them from the dry, cracked earth and the pillars of stone that created the perfect hiding place. Brianne fought the temptation to put the arrow to the string of the bow and draw it back. She hated how she relied on Macklyn to bring her food and keep her informed of what was happening. The past nine days had dragged.

Macklyn dropped the sack at her feet. “You’ve got ten minutes to eat and get ready. It’s time.”

“Time?” Her heart raced as she waited for him to clarify his comment.

“We won a battle. First Officer Ewyn is at the scene preparing things now.”

As much as she hated to, Brianne knelt at his feet to pick up the sack, quickly rising. She pulled out the flatbread, unwrapped it and took a bite as she checked the other contents. More vieteh berries, blood stained clothes, worn boots and a curved dagger. She looked up at Macklyn with a question in her eyes.

“They were taken from a soldier similar to your size. Hurry up, you don’t want to mess this up and have one of their patrols find the battle site before you get there.”

With a sharp nod, Brianne ate the last of the flatbread then hurried behind a stone pillar to dress in the unknown soldier’s clothes. Some of the blood was still damp and she tried not to think about it as she sat down to pull on the boots. They were only slightly big on her. Once the dagger was tucked inside one boot and the berries in her belt pouch, she returned to Macklyn. “I’m ready.”

He nodded to the bundle of clothes and her bow and quiver she also carried. “First Officer Ewyn said you’re to take nothing personal. Leave that here and I’ll collect them after I drop you off.”

Her grip tightened on her bow. She didn’t trust him. “Wait here.” Striding between the rock pillars, checking over her shoulder that she was hidden from Macklyn’s view, she headed for the small cave she’d found in a dead end canyon during her wanderings while she’d waited for orders. She hid her gear amongst some loose rubble and pushed dirt over them. Crawling out of the cave, she dusted off her borrowed clothes before she returned to Macklyn. He was still where she’d left him.

He turned towards her, having kicked dirt over the fire pit to smother the glowing embers. “Can we go now?”

As much as she hated to, Brianne turned her back to him, holding her arms slightly away from her sides. She felt Macklyn come up behind her and had to force herself to remain relaxed. His arms encircled her, crossing over her chest so his hands could grasp her shoulders. He launched into the air and Brianne felt the familiar anger rush through her.

She should be able to do this. It wasn’t fair that she was forced to be carted around like a little child, a fledgling yet to grow wings. The air rushed at her, the land flying beneath them until they reached their destination. They descended to the ground, which was littered with bodies, the earth stained by blood darker than the red of the earth.

Ewyn strode to meet them, an unsheathed sword in his hands. “Remember to take the vieteh berries every day. Don’t forget even once. If they ask why you take them say you’re devoting your life to the army and your country and don’t want to have children.”

Brianne nodded, trying not to think about the long-term effects. A year and it would be true, she’d never be able to have children. She hoped this mission didn’t take that long, but maybe she should keep taking them anyway. Did she really want to bring more abominations into the world?

“I had hoped to have time to go over the plan with you again.”

She stood straight. “I remember every bit of it, sir.” It was simple enough. Find out where the information was coming from. The rest of the plan was possibilities and suggestions.

Ewyn nodded sharply. “Try and get away by yourself as soon as possible. Macklyn will keep track of your movements and find a way to meet up with you. But don’t make them suspicious. We want you to stay there as long as possible.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ewyn turned to Macklyn. “Make it look believable but don’t damage her.” He again turned to Brianne and handed her the sword. “This is yours. The soldier also had a crossbow, but it’s broken.” He momentarily rested a hand on her shoulder before he kissed each of her cheeks. “Good luck.” His gaze travelled from one to the other. “I’ll scout the area and make sure we’re still safe.” He launched into the air.

“I’m going to enjoy this.”

Brianne started to turn towards Macklyn to ask him what he’d enjoy. She barely caught a glimpse of his grin and a raised sword before her head exploded and the world went black.

Talon stared at a curved dagger. His hand tightened on the handle and he took a deep breath before he raised his eyes to the mirror he stood before. Wings rose around him and steeling himself, he reached back with the dagger, aiming for where his flesh became wing.

A pounding on his door froze his hand, the dagger less than an inch from his skin. He forced himself to ignore the pounding and took another deep breath.

“Talon!”

He closed his eyes and lowered the dagger. Marshall never gave up.

“Talon. Let me in.”

It took him a few minutes before he could retract his wings, the task not made easier by Marshall calling to him again and knocking on the door a couple of times. Returning his dagger to his boot, Talon scooped up his shirt and kicked the bandages under the bed. He strode to the door, hurriedly buttoning his shirt, as Marshall pounded on the door again.

He flung the door open to find Marshall with fist raised. “What?”

“Let me in.”

“What do you want, Marshall?”

Marshall’s gaze dropped to the ground and he ran a hand through his hair, the black strands the maximum length of five inches the army allowed. He gestured past Talon. “Look out your window.”

Talon started to close the door.

“Oh come on, Talon. What have you got hidden in there?” Marshall reached out a hand to stop the door closing.

Talon glanced past Marshall and saw several people walking down the corridor towards them. He opened the door wider. “Hurry up then.” He slammed the door behind Marshall, automatically locking it before he strode to the window.

As his gaze was drawn to the back road, the one the army used to avoid travelling through the city, he felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. Riding beside his father was Bellamy, leather armour, sword at his side, crossbow hooked onto his saddle. Talon’s hands tightened on the window ledge, knuckles white. That should have been him.

“Why?”

Still gripping the ledge, Talon looked towards Marshall. If he let go, he didn’t know what he’d do.

“Why, Talon? Why quit?” He waved a hand towards the window. “And don’t tell me that doesn’t bother you. I know you. No matter how much you try and push us all away, I still know you. Why did you quit?”

“Drop it. Just drop it.” His words were harsh.

“You’re not a painter. You’d never even thought about being a painter until you randomly decided to quit three years ago. Why. Tell me. You know I won’t judge you. When have I ever?”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what? Be in the army? I’ve tried to understand. Tried to stand up for you, but you won’t even tell me. Why?”

Talon shook his head, tempted to spill the secret Garnet now knew. But he couldn’t risk his friend’s life like that. It was bad enough Garnet knew. “I can’t.”

“Was it your first battle? I won’t think less of you if that was it.”

Talon shook his head again. This time he couldn’t speak. It hadn’t been battle fear, it had been fear that if he’d been injured someone would have discovered his secret. He’d thought he could continue to hide what he was, but that first battle had shown him it was impossible.

Another knock sounded at his door, this one lighter than Marshall’s had been. What was it with everyone? Didn’t they realise he wanted to be left alone? Unlocking it, he reefed the door open, about to demand what, when his sister threw herself into his arms.

“I just heard. Our father took Bellamy on patrol with him. How are-” she broke off as Marshall came to stand beside them. “You already know.”

It was a statement, but Talon nodded anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

Talon stepped back into his room, closing the door and gently pushing his sister from him. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. I have my art.”

“But-” she broke off with a glance at Marshall.

“She knows,” Marshall accused.

“I haven’t told her anything.”

“She knows.” Marshall stared at him, hurt in his eyes.

“I didn’t tell her anything.”

“Forget it.” Marshall turned away, reaching for the door.

“Marshall-” he broke off. This was what he wanted. But why did he feel as bad as he’d felt the day he quit the army?

Marshall turned back to him, hope in his eyes.

He hesitated, but he had to kill that hope. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want anyone to know. Not you, not my parents and especially not Garnet.” His sister took his hand and squeezed tightly.

Marshall’s gaze dropped to their hands, then met Talon’s eyes again. “I would never betray you.”

“I’m protecting you, not myself.”

Marshall swore at him as he flung the door open and strode away.

Talon watched him go, his sister’s hand still in his.

“I’m sorry.” Garnet’s words were whisper soft.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, I-”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Talon let go of her hand to reach out and close the door, locking it before he strode to the window to watch the unit in the distance. He gripped the side frame of the window as his sister joined him. Anger rushed through him and he felt his back tighten. He barely managed to pull his shirt off before his wings burst forth. Would he ever be able to control the infernal things? He thought of the dagger in his boot. Another day. He’d try again another day.