Wingborn (14 page)

Cumulo chuckled.
“
Now you
’
re in for it.
”

“Hide me,
”
she muttered, diving under his wing.

“Mhysra,
”
he rumbled, half-amused, half-exasperated.
“
That isn
’
t going to work.
”

“Hush.
”

“We have around fifty miryhls at the moment,
from the combined Riders of Lieutenant Stirla
’
s and my flurries
.
The other half of Captain
Myran
’
s flight is
patrolling the mountain communities around Nimbys.
”

They were coming closer. Mhysra shrank
against Cumulo
’
s side
and held her breath.

“Whose miryhl is that, sir?
”
another familiar voice asked,
making Mhysra bite back a groan: Corin.

“Why is it tacked up?
”
And Mouse. Lovely.

“And why does it have two extra
legs?
”
She was going to
kill Derrain. After she killed Cumulo; she could feel his chuckles
across her whole body.
“
Two
human
legs.
A new breed perhaps?”

Lieutenant Lyrai laughed – he actually
laughed
– and Mhysra remembered why she didn
’
t like him.
“
Either you
’
ve been caught, student, or something
’
s terribly wrong with
Cumulo.
”

“Cumulo?
”
Mouse chirped.
“
Is that the miryhl
’
s name?
”

Cumulo, the traitor, raised his wing and
nudged his Wingborn out into the light, his rumbling laughter
audible to everyone as she emerged ruffled and flushed.

“Mhysra!
”
Everyone but the lieutenant, Derrain and,
strangely, Dhori chorused in surprise.

Pushing her hair off her face, Mhysra
mustered a weak smile.
“
Afternoon, everyone.
”

“Why are you hiding under that
miryhl
’
s –
”
At Cumulo
’
s indignant squawk, Corin apologised.
“
– sorry,
Cumulo
’
s wing? Did you
tack him up? Are you going to fly?
”

“Is that allowed?
”
one of the other students, a girl Mhysra
didn
’
t know,
demanded.

“
Are
there miryhls we can practise on?
Can we fly too?
”
an unfamiliar boy wanted to
know.

“Can we?
”
Corin and Mouse echoed, turning to Lyrai with
excitement.

Looking almost as startled as Mhysra, the
lieutenant raised his eyebrows.
“
No.
”

“Then how come
she
gets
to?
”
the unfamiliar girl
asked.

Derrain smirked.
“
Yes, Mhysra, how come
you
get to
fly Cumulo?
”

She glared at her friend and realised
everyone was staring at her, waiting for an answer. She studied the
straw wisps on the floor and mumbled,
“
He
’
s
mine.
”

“What was that?
”

“What did she say?
”

“Speak up!
”

“He
’
s mine,
”
she repeated, raising her voice.

Silence greeted her announcement.

Then Corin frowned.
“
I don
’
t understand.
”

“Neither do I,
”
said one of the boys.
“
I thought only Riders or ruling families could own
a miryhl.
”
He eyed
Mhysra critically.
“
You
’
re
not the daughter of the Stratys, are you?
”

Lieutenant Lyrai choked on his amusement and
she scowled at him.

“There is another exception to that
rule,
”
Dhori said, calm
in the face of their confusion and growing resentment. When
everyone turned to him, he smiled.
“
Wingborn are allowed miryhls.
”
At Cumulo
’
s low rumble, his smile broadened.
“
Wingborn miryhls are allowed
humans too.
”

“I like him,
”
Cumulo whispered in her ear.

“You would.
”

The group fell silent, blinking at each
other. Then Corin
’
s lips
began to twitch, Mouse started snickering and the whole lot of them
burst into laughter.

“Wingborn!
”

“Oh, that
’
s rich.
”

“We might be newbies, but we aren
’
t
that
stupid.
”

“Wingborn, ha!
”

As they continued to laugh, Mhysra sighed
and rested her head against Cumulo
’
s neck.

“Should have known we couldn
’
t fool you,
”
Lieutenant Lyrai chuckled.
“
You
’
re such a smart bunch. What
was
I
thinking?
”

As the students continued to laugh, Mhysra
grew fed up of listening to them mock the most important thing in
her life.
“
Glad I could
amuse you,
”
she
grumbled, interrupting another round of,
“
Got to get up early to fool us,
sir,
”
and
“
I
haven
’
t believed in Wingborn since I was
eight!
”

“Come on, Cue.
”

Sensing her mood, he didn
’
t argue, hopping to the nearest hatch and
diving out. Shoving students aside and making sure to elbow Derrain
al
ong the way, Mhysra
stalked after her miryhl.

“Where are you going?
”
Mouse asked, bouncing after her.
“
It was a good
joke.
”

“I
’
m off to fly my imaginary Wingborn,
”
she retorted, still smarting from
being laughed at. It was like being back in the offices again,
facing down Clerk Brenai in front of all the Riders.

“This I have to see,
”
one of the strangers chuckled, no doubt
anticipating a quick dismount.

Mhysra smiled. She might not have liked the
laughter, but she was going to enjoy this.

“Are you sure?
”
Corin eyed Cumulo warily. Standing with his chest
puffed out, he looked regal, intimidating and huge.
“
He
’
s so big.
”

Mhysra snorted, both at Cumulo
’
s display and her sudden lack of
escorts. The students had halted ten feet away, none daring to come
any closer now that they were outside. Derrain and Lieutenant Lyrai
stood smirking at the back.

“Idiots,
”
she grumbled, and stepped onto Cumulo
’
s lowered wing. When he boosted
her into the saddle, she settled down to gasps from the
students.

“You don
’
t have to do this,
”
Corin called worriedly.
“
I believe you.
”

“She doesn
’
t,
”
Cumulo said, as if Mhysra had been foolish enough to think
otherwise.

“Sir, you have to stop her,
”
Mouse pleaded with the
lieutenant.

“She could get hurt,
”
Corin protested.

“She could,
”
Lyrai agreed, smiling at Mhysra
’
s glare.
“
But she won
’
t. Have a little faith. They know what
they
’
re
doing.
”

Having tinkered long enough with things that
didn
’
t need adjusting,
Mhysra tucked up her legs and gathered the reins.
“
When you
’
re ready, Cue.
”

“All right, chickling,
”
he chuckled, opened his wings and
screamed. As the students covered their ears – and Corin covered
her eyes – Cumulo crouched and sprang upwards, thumping the air
with great flaps of his wings. Another, then another, got them
airborne and spiralling on the updrafts to gasps of awe.
“
Always nice to be
appreciated.
”

Lying against his back, Mhysra chuckled.
“
Show-off.
”

“No one doubts my Wingborn and gets away
with it.
”
So saying, he
let his left wing drop, banking towards the cliffs, and swept back
across the field over their audience
’
s head.

She clung to his back, familiar with her
arrogant miryhl
’
s
routine, while Cumulo executed an array of tricks that left the
crowd below in no doubt about who he belonged to. Satisfied, he
rose above an appreciative chorus of cheers and whistles.

Reaching forward, she hugged him hard.
“
You
’
re my hero.
”

“Anytime, chickling,
”
he chuckled, carrying them into the
winter sunshine.
“
Anytime.
”

24
^th
Cold

T
HOUGH HE
’
D EXPECTED
a summons from
the moment he
’
d set foot
in Nimbys, Lyrai had still hoped for later rather than sooner. Then
again, as Stirla pointed out, two moons into his seven-month
residency hardly counted as
soon
. Regardless, Lyrai tensed
when a carriage stopped outside the barracks on the third Starday
of Cold.

“Trying to be
discreet,” Stirla murmured, watching through the window.

Lyrai didn
’
t answer – he was too busy frowning at the
carriage. In a gods-cursed world covered in clouds, horses were
impractical and scarce. They were reserved mainly for use on
low-lying farm peaks – not in narrow Nimbys, where feet worked
best. However, such ideas were unfamiliar to his mother. When
Stirla said she was trying to be discreet, he was right: she simply
had no idea what the word meant.

“
I’
d best go,
”
Lyrai sighed, looking down at himself and
wondering if he should change. Having just returned from the
cathedral, he was still wearing his dress uniform, complete with
impractical white breeches.

“
You’
ll do,
”
Honra assured him.

“
He
could be covered in mud and stinking to Heirayk’
s own heaven
and his mother would forgive him.
”
Stirla pinched his fellow lieutenant
’
s cheek and failed to duck the
retaliatory swipe across the head.
“
For that I hope you meet your father.
”

“And I hope
Atyrn dumps you in a thorn bush,” Lyrai retorted, shrugging into
his jacket.

“
Not
long now,” Stirla said. “You’
ll be flying again
soon.
”

Lyrai smiled bitterly.
“
Comforting as that is, it
wouldn
’
t save me from a
summons.
”

“
True,”
Stirla agreed, hooking his arm around Lyrai’
s neck and
dragging him from the room.
“
But at least I tried. Now play nicely with your
sisters, give your beautiful mother a kiss from me and
don
’
t antagonise your
brother.
”
He paused to
straighten Lyrai
’
s
neckcloth before shoving him towards the entrance hall.

“
Aye,
Grandmother.” Lyrai turned and tugged his forelock. “But it’s
never
my brother I
’
m worried about.
”
They exchanged wry salutes before Stirla left for
the eyries. Only the fact that there was no miryhl awaiting him,
and thus no means of escape, stopped Lyrai from following.

Instead
he turned to the waiting footman and accepted the gilded
invitation, though there was no need to open it
. The words
inside were a mere formality and ones he could not, under any
circumstances, refuse. Not even death was an adequate excuse when
his mother sent a carriage.

So he sighed, nodded to the footman and
climbed inside.
“
Milady
has spoken, and like a dutiful son, I obey. Lead on.
”

MAKING THE MOST
of
the weak winter sun, Mhysra preened Cumulo outside. Her hair was
wrapped in an old scarf, there was a handkerchief tied across her
nose and she was wearing her oldest clothes.

“
You’
re getting lazy, Cue,
”
she grumbled, working beneath his wing.
Quill dust and dirt had turned her fingers grey and her nails a
lovely sludge brown, while her palms glistened with feather oil.
What he really needed was a bath, but the nearest source was the
Nimbys reservoir, and having got away with using it once, she
didn
’
t think they should
push their luck.

“Why worry
about deep preening when I have a Wingborn?” Cumulo rumbled as she
emerged. He nudged her and sneezed.

Chuckling, she untied the handkerchief and
wiped the mess from her face. As she pulled off the scarf and shook
the dust from her hair, he sneezed again and gave her a baleful
glare.