Wings of Creation (21 page)

Oh.

Marcus put a hand on Jenna’s shoulder. “Is everyone here?”

She nodded. “Family meeting?”

Marcus and Jenna explained three choices to us. Give up and leave, go somewhere else. Basically, the “get on a ship and run” choice. The second choice was to keep going, just do what we were doing, only do it from hiding, here. The third was do both—get in a ship, take some fliers with us, and go do the work somewhere else. Like, inside a flyspace dome or a flier ship.

This wasn’t too tough a decision. When Marcus asked for our thoughts, Chelo sounded exactly like herself. “I don’t want to get on a ship. So that leaves one option. Besides, we promised we’d help.” It
was the same stance she’d taken at home, and I really couldn’t imagine her doing anything else. The fliers had almost become like the people of Fremont—in need of protection. It seemed to be built into her.

Kayleen simply said, “We should stay.” She was getting better at holding her tongue in tough situations.

Liam argued both sides, kind of acting them out for our benefit, looking for all the world like his father, Akashi, leader of the West Band of scientists on Fremont. His little flock of four had become a band to him. He ultimately came down on the side of staying, but keeping options open and a clear escape path.

Bryan wanted to hunt down our pursuers. Marcus’s eyes lit up at the idea, but I knew he’d never risk me or Chelo or Jenna that way. Although one glance at Jenna suggested that she liked Bryan’s idea just fine. Ming, beside Bryan as always, might have even been the one who suggested it to him.

Alicia spoke as clearly as Kayleen had. “I don’t want to run.”

And when it was my turn, Paula’s patient, steady gaze seemed to burn into me. “We keep helping.”

Marcus looked around at us all, took a long slow sip of tea. He gave us a warm smile that suggested he was proud of us. In leader-like fashion, he spoke a single word. “Pack.”

A
s I stuffed the last of my clothes into a duffel, I said, “I won’t mind leaving this room.” It was the only place Alicia and I had ever stayed together without making love.

Alicia’s voice sounded small. “I liked watching the fliers from here.”

I came up to her and placed an arm over her shoulder as casually as I could. She neither flinched nor moved toward me. “There will be fliers wherever we go,” I whispered. “I suspect we won’t be far, anyway.”

“Oshai, I think.”

So she knew our escape plans. “Is it pretty?” She’d been, once, but I hadn’t had time for a field trip.

She chewed at her lip, contemplating, and then smiled. “I’ve never
seen a place so busy and so pretty all at once. There’s art everywhere. There’re people from all over, too. Even Islas and Paradise.”

Of course there would be. I hadn’t thought about that. “Won’t you . . . miss your lessons?”

I watched the pale white curve of her cheek as she looked out the window, toward Fliers’ Field. Her lower lip began to tremble. Instinctively, I pulled her close, and she let me do it.

The silence between us felt softer than it had for a long time. Just our breath and the scent of Lopali on her skin: flowers and herbs and tea.

“You smell like Fremont,” she said.

“Paloma’s salve. My arms were so tired from flying I needed some to help me get home.”

She turned into me, so my arm slid around her back, and her breasts brushed against my chest. I ran my fingers through her hair as she stood there, trembling like a spring leaf in a soft breeze. Her voice was nearly muffled by my aching shoulder. “I never thought I’d like the smell of Fremont again.”

“Even though I don’t expect I’ll go back, I still miss it sometimes. It was easier there.”

She looked up at me, the corners of her eyes damp and her chin still quivering a bit. “I thought . . . I thought I could . . . could fly here.”

“Shhhh . . . you can.”

“Like you. Slow. I want to really fly.”

“You will. I’m sure you will. We all will.” I had no idea if it was true or not, but it mattered to her. “In the meantime, fly with me and then you won’t be the slowest.”

That made her laugh, and she pulled away and started setting our fully packed duffels on the floor beside the bed. They would be carried—wherever we were going—by someone who wasn’t flying. Beside them, we each had small belts with necessities in them. After she set everything down she looked at me and winked. “One more night here, and then we’re into the unknown again.”

In her comfort zone. The unknown. But I would go with her to the end of forever.

She reached up and took my face between her hands and delivered a grand, long kiss that traveled as heat down my spine.

Perhaps I needed to make sure there was always some uncertainty in our lives.

S
oBright, and the guest house, had begun to feel like a home, and I’d started routines for Jherrel and Caro. I hated packing. But not as much as I hated the idea of being separated from the kids. They must have sensed my mood since they picked up whatever I asked without complaint. Caro stopped with one of the wooden space ships Joseph had carved her held over her head, heading for the galaxy of the ceiling, and asked, “Mommy Chelo, why do we have to go with Daddy?”

I plucked the toy out of her hand and gathered her and Jherrel to me. “You aren’t old enough to fly yet.”

“I am, too!” Jherrel proclaimed. “I flew in the starships.”

They had played in zero gravity a few times. Flying. “That was a place where you didn’t weigh anything. Here, there aren’t any wings just your size, and you’re too big to be carried. Besides, your daddy would miss you.”

Caro put her hands on her hips and with the complete seriousness only a three-year-old can muster, said, “Mommy, we should stay together. It’s your job to watch us, too.”

“I know.” I struggled not to show them my angry guilt. My face and story were so well known that Jenna and Marcus had decided I should travel with Joseph. Kayleen, too, since she’d become such good help for him. I gave Caro and Jherrel each a special, deep hug and sang a summer song from home to give rhythm to our work. They picked up speed and sang along. It helped me a little bit, too.

Liam came in, brushing the hair from my neck softly and kissing the skin he’d exposed. “What can I do?”

“Give them a bath?” I kissed him on the cheek and excused myself, leaving him with a baffled look. Not that I wasn’t baffled; I’d usually talk to him before I made big decisions. But I was afraid talking would diffuse my anger.

I found Jenna and Marcus in their room, crouched over a duffel bag. They looked up at me as I came in, both faces a touch guilty. I took a deep breath and planted my feet hard on the floor. “I’m not willing to be separated from the kids.”

Marcus shook his head and stood up, pulling Jenna to her feet, too. “They can’t fly.”

“I know. So I can’t either.”

“What if Joseph needs you? Besides helping in the nets, having you around helps him fly.”

“Kayleen can do that. It’s not fair to take both their mothers!” I made my voice as firm as I could. “I’m not leaving them. I’m a mom, and maybe you don’t know what that means to you, but I know what it means to me. I’m not asking you for permission. I’m telling you what I’m doing.”

He glanced at Jenna, a pained look on his face. “I guess Jenna can go with you.”

“For what? Protection?”

“Yes.”

I tried not to sound as snarly as I felt. “I don’t need protection. Liam and Kayleen and I hunted together, and made a house together, and met the mercenaries together and attacked them together. We can do this.”

He raised an eyebrow, trying to lighten me up. “You’re going to hunt fliers?” he teased. He used jokes to get us to do what he wanted. Not this time. This was about my kids.

“No. But we’ll be fine.”

Jenna glanced at him. “Chelo may be right. Maybe we should send Bryan and Ming and the stuff with them instead of having us split into three groups.”

“They’ll be recognizable,” Marcus said.

“I’m recognizable anyway,” I said. “You made sure I’m recognizable.
You’ve told our story everywhere. Well, that’s not my fault. I’m staying with my kids.” So why was I standing here arguing with him? I’d already told him I wasn’t waiting for his permission. This was like arguing with Nava all those years ago—when you grew up, the people you fought with just got stronger. “There’s more safety in a bigger group.”

Marcus objected. “That would let all of you get into trouble together.”

Jenna started pacing the room, looking for items left behind. “So send Bryan with Chelo and Liam.” She opened the drawers of the bedside table, peering into their empty darkness and closing them again. “Tiala and Ming can take the stuff in. Paloma can go with them. Seeyan can help the group with the kids.”

“Seeyan?” I asked.

“How?” Marcus asked at the same time.

Jenna raised an eyebrow. “I know something you don’t?”

She said it nice, kind of teasing, but he still looked taken aback for a second before he grinned. “Maybe.”

Jenna returned his smile. “The Keepers know how to travel unseen. I mean, if you were basically slaves, and given the task of caring for everything, wouldn’t you build in ways to get around?”

“How’d you figure that out?” he asked. “Do you know it for sure?”

I knew how Jenna had figured it out. “I bet she asked. The Keepers here are treated like we were on Fremont. They’re invisible or worse until someone needs them for something, and then they have to do it.” I could also tell I’d won. He wasn’t going to tell me no.

Jenna knew it, too. She gave him a light kiss. “Seeyan told me, but I already knew. Someone’s got to protect the kids, and Liam might not be enough.” She cocked her head. “Caro and Jherrel are going to be important some day, you know.”

“If they live.” He turned and spoke to me. “You and Liam and Bryan and the kids, then.”

“Thank you.” How come I still couldn’t decide if I really liked Marcus or not? Impulsively, I gave him a hug. His return embrace felt warm and comforting. He smelled like sweat and the outdoors. He felt . . . like protection and support all at once, and very physical. If I weren’t way too in love with Liam and Kayleen, I might’ve turned
my face up for a kiss. I did have the presence of mind to think about what energy to return, and decided on strength and reassurance. When we let go of each other, he looked a tiny bit surprised.

F
liers owned the skies here. Except for space ships, nothing that wasn’t alive flew, and even the birds were small. No skimmers. We headed for Oshai in a bulky sun-powered transport with wheels instead of wings, closer to a wagon than a skimmer. It felt heavy, even in this light gravity. Three rows of seats fronted a cargo compartment that held our goods beneath a harvest of nuts destined for a processing depot. Seeyan drove from a seat in the front, Jherrel on her lap. Caro had fallen fast asleep in the back, her little head resting on Bryan’s wide thigh and his great big hand cupping her shoulder against the rocking vehicle. His eyes were closed as if he dozed, but I could tell by the set of his jaw that he was quite alert.

At the last minute, Marcus had sent Alicia with us, “In case we needed invisible help.” I had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to separate Alicia and Joseph yet again, and I felt bad for my brother over it. Either that, or it was because her flying was so abysmal, and that made me feel bad for her. I didn’t mind having Alicia where I could watch her, but an invisible risk-taker was not a great idea.

Liam and I sat in the middle, looking out the windows as orchards and cropland gave way to town. Oshai had been laid out in circles like SoBright, but the first circles we passed were so big the paths almost looked straight.

Already, more traffic moved above and beside us than we’d ever seen in SoBright. Tourists traveled in faster versions of our transport and flew in groups with flier minders.

As we crossed the third big circular street, Bryan’s eyes snapped open and he sat up straighter, dislodging Caro so she woke up and sat blinking in the afternoon sun. “I don’t like this.” He pointed up toward the busy sky. “There’re too many people in the air. I don’t know who’s a friend and who to worry about. How do we know if we’re safe?”

“Were we ever safe?” I asked him.

Liam grimaced.

A man with pale green made-wings and a brown pantsuit landed a
bit ahead of us. He left his wings on and stood quietly, watching us approach. Seeyan stopped the vehicle and climbed down, and talked to him animatedly, her body language showing us he must be a friend. As soon as she turned back toward us, he flew off, low and fast.

When Seeyan climbed back in, she sounded pleased. “Now I know where to take you. You’re very lucky.” This was serious business to her, smuggling people around.

It made me wonder who and what else she smuggled.

A few minutes later we unloaded at a cargo depot and moved to a smaller vehicle that Seeyan also drove. I leaned over and whispered into Liam’s ear. “This reminds me of our flight here. Transferring from place to place.”

“Yes.” He looked resigned. I felt for him. Of all of us, only Liam had known where he was going and what he would become, at least until Kayleen kidnapped the two of us. He’d never gone back to his position in the band; war, and then Joseph coming, had taken it out of reach. The last few days, and the trip to Oshai, had been good for him. Now we were all running again.

Jherrel, next to me, leaned his little forehead against the window and watched the busy city go by. Wherever we were, it clearly wasn’t designed for fliers. Wingless of all types—some overly tall and long-limbed and a few strongmen like Bryan—made a colorful parade walking up and down the streets. Twice, we passed fliers on perches, talking to small groups gathered at their feet.

Caro sat on her daddy’s lap, leaning back, entirely too quiet. She held a hand up over her eyes, her fist balled. We’d screwed up. Caro was with us, and both Wind Readers were with Marcus. Any way I looked at data here wasn’t close to Caro’s experience. Worse, most of it was an adult world she couldn’t possibly understand.