Caprion's Wings (12 page)

Where are you?
he thought.
Where do you
hide?

He walked down the hill. In the faded,
transient way of dreams, he did not feel afraid or even fully
present. As he walked, his eyes searched every dip in the ground,
every deep patch of shadow, straining and seeking. Iron
determination filled each breath.

Finally he reached the wide, flat area
at the base of the hill. The shadestones towered before him, solemn
and foreboding. He entered the circle of stones. As soon as he set
foot inside the circle, he felt the air change to become thicker
and hotter. The back of his neck prickled. He paused, listening,
his breath quickening. Fear rose beneath the surface of his skin.
He tried to quell it, to summon his courage, but the air became
difficult to breathe in. The demon seemed to loom on every side,
its presence as tangible and silent as the sacred
stones.

A twig snapped somewhere
behind him. He whirled, his hand reaching instinctively for his
sword, but he grasped empty air.
Sumas
took it,
he realized, his gut sinking like
a rock. He was defenseless. Fully open to attack. Now his heart
hammered against his ribs, his lungs constricted. He took an
uncertain step backward, his courage slipping away with each
desperate, gasping breath.
I
can’t
, he thought.
I can’t fight him without wings.

And then that voice
seeping up from the ground, emitting from the stones, bleeding
through the air.
Or what?

“Get back, demon!” he yelled. His
voice hitched in fear.

Or what?
The demon murmured, slipping up from the ground,
through the air, through the stones. A wicked, terrible laugh
penetrated the night, seeming to emanate from every
direction.
Or what, fledgling? You will
kill me?
The voice cackled with
mirth.
Your people are dying and I am here
to end them!

“No!” he yelled, furious and hopeless.
He whirled around, trying to find the source of the voice, but it
was impossible. Darkness on every side. “Where are you?” he
demanded. “Face me!”

At your back,
child.

He turned, raising his hands. A harsh,
smoldering wind blasted through him, burning his skin, bowling him
over. He stumbled backward. The ground seemed to crumble and cave
beneath his feet. He cried out, losing balance. He fell…and kept
falling, the demon’s laughter ringing in his ears….

* * *

Caprion awoke to the sound of a door
slamming.

He opened his eyes as the sunstones
flickered to life on the walls, illuminating the long hall of the
prison.

A vibration passed over
his skin.
Sumas.

Then he heard his brother’s voice:
“Josephi, open the cell. Be quick about it before any other fools
come snooping around.”

Caprion stirred. Early morning
sunlight fell through the open door at the end of the hall and a
few long, narrow windows toward the ceiling. The rest of the
building was illuminated by sunstones. In this light, he could
almost imagine the elegant, upper class jailhouse it had once been,
reserved for the rich aristocracy.

Then Sumas’ blocky, armored figure
glided through the doorway, heading swiftly in his direction.
Behind him trailed Josephi, the soldier who had originally sealed
Caprion’s cell. Caprion glimpsed several more soldiers standing
outside the doors of the prison. A few wingless fledglings knelt in
the grass before them, looking scared out of their wits. As he
watched, the soldiers bound the fledglings’ hands and escorted them
away. Trespassers? Caprion felt mildly amused. Word of his venture
must have spread like wildfire. Apparently some had come to
investigate.

Moss shifted at his side.
He gripped her hand tightly to keep her from moving, muffling her
chains. He didn’t want Sumas to know they were awake just yet. It
seemed his brother intended to open their cell door.
I need to get out of here,
he thought. He couldn’t remain imprisoned. A sense of urgency
pounded in his blood. The demon was on the move, he could feel it,
and he knew he couldn’t waste any more time. No, his body seemed
fueled by fire and light, his muscles twitching with unreleased
energy. He needed to find it. To hunt it down.

“When I break the chains,” he said
very softly, no more than a murmur. “Run. Run for your life and
don’t look back.”

Moss’s eyes flickered, looking up at
him. She didn’t question what he meant. “Where shall I go?” she
asked.

“Hide and I will find you,” he
whispered. Then he closed his eyes again, pretending to be asleep.
He felt Moss relax against his shoulder, mimicking his position. He
could feel her pulse quickening beneath his thumb on her
wrist.

The vibration of Sumas’ great wings
passed over his skin, closer, stronger. He heard rustling from the
door of their cell. Josephi’s voice spoke the password, releasing
the sunstone lock.

“What’s wrong with him?” Josephi
asked, obviously indicating Caprion. “He just slouches there like a
dead thing.”

“My brother is a coward,” Sumas
snapped. He said it loudly, intentionally trying to provoke Caprion
into a response. “If he won’t cooperate, then make him.”

“Yes, sir,” Josephi agreed. Caprion
could hear the relish in his tone. He braced himself, eager for
action, for release.

He sensed when Josephi knelt over
them. His bright wings cast a pink light against Caprion’s closed
eyes. “Wake up!” Josephi snapped. The man grabbed Caprion by the
hair and yanked his head up forcefully.

Caprion grabbed Josephi’s saber from
his unprotected sheath, then stabbed down into his thigh,
purposefully avoiding the major artery.

Josephi roared and fell back, his
wings lifting him upward and away. Blood splashed the ground in his
wake. Caprion yanked the saber free and leapt to his feet. He
turned, striking down on the chain that connected him to Moss.
Once, twice—snap! The chain sprang apart with a sharp, metallic
twang. Then he grabbed Moss’s hand and hauled her out of the
cell.

Sumas watched all of this, a look of
shock on his face. Then his chest swelled in anger. “Stop!” he
commanded, his voice resonating around the room with powerful
magic. “Stop this, Caprion! Surrender your blade!”

Caprion struggled against the
compulsion. A burst of pain split his forehead. He felt blood
trickle from his nose and ears, but his own Song rose in his chest.
He could feel its melody coursing through his body and mind, almost
audible. He kept walking forward, out the cell door, and directly
into Sumas’ face.

His brother looked completely
dumbfounded. It finally registered that his song-magic was not
working, and Sumas reached for his sword—too late. Caprion swung
his saber wildly and Sumas leapt back. His wings carried him
several meters away.

Caprion shoved Moss toward the
entrance of the prison. “Go!” he yelled. He didn’t have to say it
twice. She gathered her chain and bolted, running swiftly and
silently over the stone, weaving through the chamber like a rogue
shadow.

“Stop her!” Sumas roared,
pointing after Moss’s shape. Caprion watched breathlessly as
Josephi took off after her, gliding swiftly through the air, one
hand clamped to his bleeding leg. Moss passed through the door and
into sunlight—gone.
She’s already reached
the trees by now,
Caprion thought
fiercely.
He won’t catch her.

Sumas drew his heavy broadsword and
faced Caprion, livid with rage.

Caprion lifted his saber
just as his brother lunged forward, gliding on his wings. Sumas
swung at his head in a wide arc. Caprion raised his blade just in
time—
shing!
He
staggered. The force of the blow jarred his arm.

His brother stabbed outward again, a
roar of fury ripping from his throat. Caprion stumbled back, barely
deflecting the second strike. He couldn’t match Sumas’ agility and
strength. His brother’s wings gave him too much
leverage.

They traded several more blows,
Caprion on the defensive. Sumas’ blade grazed his shoulder,
narrowly missing his head. Caprion barely felt the pain. Finally,
his brother thrust his sword forward like a spear, intending to
skewer Caprion on its tip. Caprion threw himself to one side,
barely avoiding the blade. Sumas hurled past him.

His brother banked and turned, but his
wings struck the bars of the jail cell. He faltered in the air,
trying to right himself, but his large wings flapped clumsily,
caught between the bars. Caprion saw his advantage. He dropped his
blade. He grabbed the chain at his wrist.

He leapt on Sumas’ back and brought
the length of chain down around his brother’s neck, choking him
from behind. His brother struggled, his wings still caught up in
the bars of the jail cell. Sumas sank to the ground, struggling
viciously, trying to throw Caprion off by using brute
strength.

Caprion tightened the chain
mercilessly on his brother’s throat and rammed his knee into Sumas’
lower back, forcing him downward, trying to bring him to the
ground.

His brother put up a good fight. At
one point, he almost lifted Caprion into the air, attempting to
fling him over his shoulder, but he couldn’t maintain the effort.
Sumas’ neck turned bright red and his sword fell from his hand
until finally his body caved forward limply. Caprion held on a few
seconds longer for good measure and then released the chain. Sumas
collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.

Caprion stood back, momentarily
surprised. Adrenaline pounded through his veins. For the first
time, he had fought Sumas and won. He couldn’t quite believe it. He
touched the graze on his shoulder, feeling the sticky blood on his
fingertips, and then he reached down to pick up Sumas’ sword. It
was larger than his own, heavier, but the solid blade felt good in
his hands. He sheathed his new sword in the empty scabbard at his
back. It didn’t quite fit, too long for the sheath; a good few
inches of steel blade poked over his shoulder.

He felt powerful. Capable
of anything. The Song still thrummed in his veins;
it's changing me,
he
thought. He didn’t know how that was possible, and yet he couldn’t
deny it.

He turned and ran to the door, out
into the early-morning light. He saw no sign of Josephi or Moss, so
he could only assume that she had gotten away. He hoped she could
stay hidden until after he tracked down the demon. Once the island
was safe, he would find a way to get Moss to the mainland, with or
without wings.

And if you fail?
a niggling little voice asked.
If the demon kills you?

He glanced to the sky, to the One
Star, begging for strength. If he died, he didn’t know what would
happen to her—one more reason to stay alive.

Then he took off into the forest,
ducking between thick juniper bushes and trees covered in ivy. He
found a deer trail and followed it, taking one of the back roads
into the city. His chest ached sharply as he ran, his sternum
creaking with each step, but he used the pain to fuel his
determination.

He needed to find Florentine. He
needed to ask her about the demon and find out where it hid. He
needed answers, and who better to help him than a
Resonator?

Chapter 7

Caprion snuck through the streets of
Asterion, keeping to the alleys and the ruined, disused parts of
the city. He ran across a couple of boys, perhaps sixteen in age,
practicing with their swords in an abandoned courtyard. Careful to
remain unnoticed, he plucked one of their gray cloaks from a
cracked stone bench and threw it around his form, pulling the hood
low over his eyes. After this, he moved more swiftly through the
side-streets, boldly passing by strangers, keeping his face
down-turned. He had to be careful not to draw attention to himself.
There weren’t many broad-shouldered, wingless men in the
city.

As he traveled deeper and deeper into
Asterion, he couldn’t help but notice the thick tension in the air.
A broad spectrum of vibrations passed over his skin, from gentle
tremors like cool water to the harsh buzz of irritated bees.
Everyone seemed to be talking. They stretched their wings
nervously, their voices rising and falling as the sun climbed
higher in the sky. He caught a few snatches of conversation as he
walked.

“…
A demon on the island,
have you heard? One of the Sixth Race, here….”

“Just a story the soldiers
dreamed up, that’s all. Sumas is denying everything-”

“I hear his brother has
something to do with it! That worthless Caprion!”

“Apparently they’ve
imprisoned him for questioning….”

Caprion pulled his hood
down lower and slipped into an alleyway, dashing to the next
street, which seemed just as crowded as the first.
Where did all these people come from?
he thought, noticing the thick crowds
accumulating on street corners.
Don’t they
have work? School?