A Flight of Broken Wings, page 24
part #1 of The Aeriel Chronicles Series
“No, indeed they were not. There were reports of casualties spanning the globe. Not the general terrorist activities that the Exiles indulge in, either. Targeted assassinations, abductions, things like that.”
Ruban nodded, satisfied. “After that, it wouldn’t matter how many spies Tauheen had within the IAW. The matter would be out of their jurisdiction once we prove that civilian lives are on the line, that civilians have been killed for over a decade with no government intervention. The Supreme Court will take charge of the investigation and it’ll be all hands on deck. Even Tauheen isn’t powerful enough to stand alone against the entire world.”
“You know,” Ashwin began, flicking his tongue over his lips in a nervous gesture that better became the Zainian nobleman than the Prince of Vaan. “If you really want to find proof of everything that Tauheen has done over the decades, I know someone who can help with that.”
“Yes?” Ruban said, raising an eyebrow.
“You’re not going to like this, but hear me out, okay? Safaa has had spies all over the planet tracking every single one of our mother’s movements for centuries. There is no power in the universe that knows the ins and outs of all of Tauheen’s secrets, all her activities and goals, better than my sister. You don’t know what obsession is until you’ve met Safaa,” he sighed. “In some ways, she’s more like Tauheen than Tauheen herself.
“What I’m trying to get at is this. If anybody would know where to find evidence of my mother’s activities, it would be Safaa. If Tauheen really has been planning all of this for as long as we think she has, Safaa and her elaborate spy network are bound to know something about it. She’s the best resource you could possibly hope to have.”
“You’re saying you want me to meet your sister?”
“Exactly.”
Ruban ran a hand through his hair. Of course, nothing in his life could ever be simple. He didn’t trust Safaa, didn’t trust any of the Aeriels, really.
He did not think Ashwin would deliberately mislead him. Tempting as it was to hold on to those old prejudices, the guy had had ample opportunity – and provocation, if Ruban was being honest with himself – to kill him, if that was what he wanted to do. But just because Ashwin didn’t mean him direct harm did not mean his sister would not have her own agenda to further through Ruban. In fact, Ruban was pretty sure that was exactly what she would have.
And in the interest of continued honesty, Ruban wasn’t entirely sure he could trust himself not to try and wring Safaa’s neck when he finally met her. He was not one to delude himself about his abilities, and he knew that that would probably end with him bleeding out slowly at the feet of the Aeriels. But he wasn’t sure even the threat of imminent dismemberment would be enough to keep his anger in check when he finally came face to face with the creature responsible – if only indirectly – for so much chaos.
And while all of that was compelling argument against accepting Ashwin’s offer, the fact remained that the Aeriel was right. Without Safaa’s help, there was no way Ruban would ever find out the truth behind what happened to his father, to Miki, to his aunt. Even if he managed to kill Tauheen without that knowledge, he would never know why. Why he had to lose everything he valued for the sake of some mad Aeriel Queen’s rivalry with her daughter. Why Hiya had to lose her mother before she had even had a chance to know her. Why all their families were torn apart like they were nothing more than toys for some malicious God to play with.
“Fine, I’ll do it,” he said at length, turning to look out of the window. It was drizzling again, the raindrops like flecks of silver against the dark night sky. “I’ll meet your sister, if you really think she can help us find proof against your mother. You have one fucked up family, you know that?”
Ashwin laughed. “Believe me, no one knows it better.”
“Where do I meet her, then?”
“Why in Vaan, of course.”
When the dizzying array of lights and colours that constituted the journey to Vaan dissipated from his vision, Ruban blinked his eyes open to behold the Vaan Court, the original seat of the Aeriels’ power in the universe.
If Ruban had ever tried to imagine what Vaan would look like – and he had not – this is not what he would have pictured. They stood in an enormous auditorium decorated in themes of white and silver – okay so maybe that part was expected. The hall wasn’t built on any architectural model Ruban was familiar with, however. It stood supported by a series of pillars adorned with ephemeral motifs woven from what looked to be threads of argent light, which kept moving and rearranging themselves into ever-changing new patterns. The structure had no roof, the pillars attached to the edges of the walls by horizontal beams. Unhindered sunlight – brighter than the brightest summer day on earth – flooded the room with the dazzling radiance of a solar flare. Contrarily, the temperature reminded Ruban of a cool winter morning in Surai. A light jacket would not have gone amiss.
Clouds floated freely all around them, seeming to dance and twirl in orchestrated chaos. The floor he stood on was obscured by a translucent mist that hovered serenely over his boots, sprinkling them with condensed moisture like dewdrops. The walls on either side were decorated with the same evanescent murals that adorned the pillars, arranged in even more intricate patterns. A large, arching doorway occupied a significant portion of the wall in front of him.
“You can let go of my hand now, you know. We’re not flying anymore,” Ashwin prompted, his voice tinged with amusement. Ruban jerked, letting go of the Aeriel’s hand as though it were on fire. He had apparently been too engrossed in the sights to pay much attention to the company.
He tried to tell himself he was only casing the place for possible dangers. The assertion rang hollow even in his own mind.
As he turned to face his companion, he realised that Ashwin had let go – even if temporarily – of his simulated humanity. His wings spread out vast and resplendent behind him, the feathers glistening in the sunlight, and his eyes were once again the colour of freshwater pearls.
“By Zeifaa, it’s good to have some sun again,” the Aeriel said, his wings arching upwards and back, reminding Ruban of a cat stretching herself after a long and satisfying nap. “No offence to your country, Ruban, but damn Vandran monsoons to the darkest pits of hell. I thought I was going to die of depression.”
“By all means, stay home and spare us the dubious pleasure of your company,” the Hunter shot back, though it came out rather half-hearted. “Where do we go from here?”
A melodious screech – the sound was indeed as contradictory as that description would indicate – pierced Ruban’s ears even as a fireball with wings shot towards them over the walls of the auditorium. It landed with an awkward flop on Ashwin’s shoulder, and Ruban had to blink a few times to accustom his eyes to the brightness of the creature before him.
It was a bird. A bird on fire. Or a bird made of fire. Ruban blinked again. The thing was what would happen if you set a particularly large falcon aflame without actually burning it. Red-and-yellow flames danced around the bird’s folded wings and over its head. Its beak looked like something forged from molten metal. It screeched again, the strange sound giving Ruban the simultaneous urge to flinch back and lean forward, both at the same time.
“This is Miranki,” said Ashwin, petting the fiery creature like it was a new-born kitten. “Say hi to Ruban, Mir.”
The bird squawked, glaring at the human.
“Your pet?” Ruban asked drily. He had heard the usual children’s stories about the firebirds of Vaan, of course. Fairy-tales about the ferocious creatures that had rained fire and fury upon the revolutionary forces centuries ago. And like every other kid over the age of five, he had dismissed them as baseless old-wives’ tales.
Ashwin shook his head, still petting the bird. “My sister’s.”
The throne room, if possible, was an even more artsy version of the auditorium where they had arrived. Ruban was beginning to see what Dawad had meant when he said that Aeriels were more interested in making pretty designs than ruling. Standing in the Vaan Court, he could almost believe it. It looked more like the dream studio of a quirky artist than the administrative centre of a warlike race.
A gesture from Safaa ensured that the three of them were left alone in the room. The bird had winged it to wherever firebirds went when they weren’t throwing death-glares at unsuspecting humans. And the other courtiers just seemed to shimmer away in groups of twos and threes, but not before throwing him curious, searching glances that lingered for longer than Ruban was entirely comfortable with. He supposed they thought they were being surreptitious.
Finally, he looked up at Safaa, sitting cross-legged at the head of the throne-room. Oddly, the first word that popped into his head when he laid eyes on her was ‘proper’. He couldn’t say what it was about her, really, but she seemed…familiar in a way. He could imagine her sitting at the head of the table, leading one of the numerous conferences they kept getting sent to every year for retraining and sensitivity workshops. She seemed like a leader, or a leader as a human would understand the concept. He didn’t think most Aeriels shared humanity’s notion of leadership, though. Not if this court was anything to go by. Safaa’s courtiers had looked – and acted – more like a gang of giggling teenagers than the heads of administration of a realm.
To his surprise, Ruban almost sympathised with the Aeriel Queen. He could only imagine trying to run a government with a roomful of Ashwins for subordinates. He did not envy her.
Her magnificent wings flaring behind her, Safaa lifted herself off the throne and flew across the room to land a few feet in front of Ruban and her brother.
If Ruban had thought Ashwin’s wings impressive, they had nothing on his sister’s. Her wingspan alone was nearly twice that of her brother’s, the brilliance of her feathers unlike anything he had ever seen on earth or Vaan, and that included Tauheen in all her twisted magnificence. Like the latter, three tiny red marks stained the tips of Safaa’s wings.
‘Two Aeriel Queens for the first time in history’, Dawad’s voice rang in his ears.
Now that she was closer to him, Ruban realised that Safaa’s eyes resembled her mother’s more than they did Ashwin’s. They were black with flecks of silver, like stars sprinkled across the night-sky, unlike the pearly white of her brother’s irises. Her silver hair also had streaks of black in them. It felt as though if only he looked closely enough, he could almost spot the humanity in her.
“Shwaan,” she said, snapping Ruban out of his trance, and promptly wrapped her arms around her brother, her large wings moving to partially encircle him. Ashwin made a sound that was half-way between a strangled bird and an enthusiastic puppy, before bringing his own arms awkwardly around his sister. It didn’t seem to come as naturally to him, but he gave it his best shot.
After a moment, Safaa stepped back to run a critical eye over the pair of them. “Ruban Kinoh,” she said, after a few seconds of strained silence. “A human has not set foot in Vaan in the last six-hundred years. So, what brings you here?”
“Your brother, essentially,” Ruban said. It was the truth, after all, presented as succinctly as he could manage. Hunter training had taught him that those were the two essentials of any good report – honesty and precision.
“My brother, indeed,” the queen said, turning back to Ashwin. “He has told me a lot about you, Mr. Kinoh.”
“Good things, I hope,” he returned, only half sardonically.
“Very. He seems to think highly of your abilities. Of you. Not that he always has the best judgement in these sorts of things. Still, I think I should thank you for all the help you’ve given us – knowingly or otherwise – in the quest to thwart our mother’s plans.”
“The goal is a mutual one, from what I understand.”
“I should hope so, yes.”
Safaa circled the two of them, talking conversationally all the while. Suddenly, as she passed her brother, her eyes narrowed. “What happened to your wing, Shwaan?” she asked softly, coming to an abrupt halt.
In the years since he had become a Hunter, Ruban had faced, without so much as a flinch, dangers far greater than what he was in now. Mortal peril was no stranger to him, hadn’t been since the day his house burned to the ground in front of his eyes. At this point, courage was not so much a virtue for him as a habit, a professional requirement like any other.
Yet, something in Safaa’s voice made Ruban’s blood run cold. Not so much because of what she could do to him, but because he understood why she would do it. Because if Safaa killed him now, it wouldn’t be for some personal agenda, or even the simple bloodlust of her exiled brethren. If she killed Ruban, it would be for the same reason he would have given anything to drive his blade through Reivaa’s guts in Zikyang. To protect the thing he loved.
Ruban wasn’t sure he could bring himself to fight back, if that happened. And the thought terrified him.
“Battle wound, sister dear,” Ashwin said with a dismissive flick of his hand, interrupting Ruban’s thoughts. “You know how it is.”
“Mother,” Safaa breathed, trembling with barely suppressed fury. “When I find her, Shwaan, I shall burn the heart out of her. She will pay for everything she has done to us.”
Ruban tuned out as Ashwin explained to his sister the purpose of their visit. His eyes drifted over the fine, painstaking artwork that littered the walls and columns of the throne room. They were almost alive – throbbing with vitality – the murals and the thread-work moving in their eternal dance on every available surface. It was hard to believe that the inhuman, bloodthirsty creatures he Hunted for a living could create something so beautiful, so breathtaking.
“I see,” Safaa’s cool voice drew Ruban’s attention from his existential musings back to the situation at hand. “So you want to know what Tauheen has been up to over the past few years.”
“Exactly,” said Ashwin, folding his wings and throwing himself into one of the seats vacated by Safaa’s courtiers. He seemed to dislike standing with quite a passion. “That way, we can give the humans a reason to go after her with everything they’ve got, if we can prove that she’s been trying to compromise their political and administrative systems through blackmail and coercion. It wouldn’t be easy to overpower her forces on our own; she still commands most of the Exiles, if not all. But if we can get the various mortal governments to put up a concerted front against her, our chances improve exponentially. Or at least that’s what Ruban says anyway,” he smirked.
Turning her penetrating eyes on him, Safaa murmured, “Is that so, Mr. Kinoh?”
Ruban shrugged. “It’s the best plan I could come up with at such short notice.”
“And it’s a good one. However, I haven’t been to earth in centuries. My knowledge of earthly affairs – even those pertaining to our beloved mother – leaves something to be desired.”
“Ashwin – ah, I mean Shwaan – says you maintain some sort of a spy network planet-side.”
Unexpectedly, Safaa laughed. Ruban thought a recording of the sound would sell for good money to music companies back on earth. “Ashwin seems to have told you quite a lot indeed, Mr. Kinoh. Discretion was never my brother’s strong suit. But this is a bit much, even for him.”
“I’m right here, you know,” the prince drawled, the eye-roll evident in his tone.
Safaa sighed, ignoring her brother. “Alright then, Mr. Kinoh. Since you seem to know so much already, I might as well tell you the rest, if you think it’ll help you stop my mother. You must understand, we cannot allow her to develop that formula. If she does, it shall be the end of us all – of Vaan and of earth.”
Ruban nodded. There wasn’t much he could say to that. He couldn’t honestly say he gave a damn about what happened to Vaan. But it was true that earth stood to lose as much, if not more, if Tauheen got what she wanted. And if accepting the help of the Queen of Vaan was the only way to stop her, well, Ruban had made worse bargains in his life.
Safaa took a deep breath. “On the banks of the river Shona to the south of your country, there is a city called Ibanborah.”
“Yes, of course. The capital of Ibanta. That’s the southernmost state of Vandram.”
Safaa nodded, a nostalgic little smile on her lips. “It was nothing more than a marsh when last I was on earth.” She shook her head once, as if forcing the memory from her mind. “Anyway, this city. Ibanborah. Tauheen has been spending a lot of time in its vicinity…for the last eight years or so. My spies followed her to the city but couldn’t determine her exact location beyond that point. She’s careful, and her followers are ever vigilant. Still, there has to be something there, for her to keep returning to the city time and again. Mother was never really one for sentimentality. She’s harbouring something there, something that’s important to her.”
“And if we can find it…” muttered Ruban.
“You can have your evidence,” said Safaa. “And I can have my satisfaction.”
Back in his living room, Ruban collapsed onto the couch, exhaling loudly. “Well, that was something.”
Ashwin smirked. “Did you like it?”
Raising one shoulder in a shrug, the Hunter said, “I’ve seen worse.”
“No shit.”
Ruban lay in silence for a few minutes, trying to digest all that had just happened. He wasn’t even sure he believed all of it himself, that it hadn’t all been an elaborate hallucination induced by something he had accidentally ingested on a Hunt. He couldn’t imagine how he would begin explaining any of it to anyone else.
Ashwin had folded himself at the foot of the couch, lost in his own thoughts. Well, at least the wings were gone. He couldn’t imagine seeing those things in the confines of the flat. Not after he had seen them in Vaan, spread out and luminescent in all their glory. He could almost understand, now that he had seen it for himself, why the Exiles were so desperate to get back in.
He stretched, sitting up slowly on the sofa. “Well, better get to bed, then. Have a train to catch early tomorrow.”
