Flightless Afternoon: Ageless Mysteries - Book 5, page 1
Contents
Title
Copyright
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Thank You
Character List
Places
Also by the author
About the author
FLIGHTLESS AFTERNOON
Ageless Mysteries - Book 5
Vanessa Nelson
FLIGHTLESS AFTERNOON
Ageless Mysteries - Book 5
Vanessa Nelson
Copyright © 2022 Vanessa Nelson
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction.
All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Reproduction in whole or in part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited.
Click or visit:
http://www.taellaneth.com
With grateful thanks to my wonderful beta reader, Maia, whose valuable insight and wisdom always improves the story.
CHAPTER ONE
Thea cheered and clapped along with the crowd around her as a spurt of flame shot into the air, higher than any man could jump, yellows and oranges vivid against the clear blue sky. The flame faded, leaving an after-image behind her eyes. It had not been magic, but incredible skill.
The crowd, settled on make-shift wooden benches arranged in a half-circle around part of the marketplace, cheered and clapped again as another flame rose, as high as the last.
The fire-breather twirled the long cane she held, the flames bright at either end, and threw it over her head with seeming casual ease as she bowed to the crowd, accepting their applause, straightening and catching the cane without looking at it, drawing more applause. She was a petite woman somewhere in her middle age, with close-cropped mid-brown hair, dressed in a random assortment of red, orange and white cloth. Apart from the clothing, there was nothing particularly remarkable about her, and yet she had held Thea and the rest of the crowd spell-bound with her skill, the flames she carried always completely in her control.
A few people tossed coins onto the ground around her, including Thea. They had all paid for their seats but, in Thea’s view, the skill shown deserved a higher reward. A view clearly shared by much of the crowd. The coins were quickly and expertly collected by a few children. Thea’s eyes naturally followed the children and the money, as the children scuttled to the side of the arena and dropped the coins into a tall jar held by a stout woman dressed in vivid blue. It was as smoothly and expertly done as the fire-breather’s tricks had been.
“The lovely, the magnificent, Brigette, ladies and gentlemen!” The speaker was a tall, almost painfully thin man dressed in a vivid scarlet cloak over faded black clothes. Like the fire-breather, he also had a cane, but his was made of wood, and seemed entirely decorative. He spun it in the air in front of him, the movement drawing the crowd’s attention. “Wasn’t she wonderful?” the man cried, voice carrying easily over the gathered crowd.
More applause rose for Brigette, who took another bow before leaving the open area with quick strides, disappearing into the collection of make-shift tents that formed the other side of the performance area.
“And that concludes our entertainment for now, ladies and gentlemen. But do come back later. We have plenty more to show you.” The man bowed and then followed Brigette into the tents.
“That was so much fun,” Thea said, turning to Niath. They were sitting in the second row of benches, slightly taller than the first. “I don’t think I’ve seen fire breathing before.”
“It’s a rare skill,” Niath agreed, getting to his feet and offering her a hand up. Like her, he was out of uniform, the pair of them blending into the crowds far more than their usual uniforms would allow. His pale cream shirt and dark brown trousers might be of finer quality than many of the other festival-goers, but they did not stand out as much as his mage’s robes or the dark red Watch uniform she usually wore. His bronze skin marked him as coming from somewhere south of this city, but was relatively common in a city with a lot of trading connections to the rest of the known worlds.
She didn’t need the help to get up, but she took his hand anyway. His skin was familiar and warm against hers and a moment later she was glad of his support as she misjudged her step, stumbling slightly. Her hair, worn loose today as she was off-duty, slid over her shoulder, a dark, rippled mass that would have acquired tangles no matter how carefully she had brushed it that morning.
“Sorry,” she said, heat flaring in her face as she shoved her hair back. “I’m so used to my uniform. It weighs a lot more,” she said. The plain, dark blue tunic and trousers she was wearing were perfectly suitable for a day out, but she was used to her uniform, weighted with extra padding to protect her, and the various bits of equipment that every Watch member carried with them.
“Not at all,” Niath said, perfectly polite, then grinned, white teeth bright against his bronzed skin. “It’s nice to be anonymous for once, isn’t it?”
Thea agreed. It was oddly freeing to be in her own clothes, wandering among crowds of people who did not know, or care, who she was. Her pale skin and dark hair were common enough in this part of the world that she did not really stand out. She was just one more woman, out enjoying the festival with a friend. Her mind chose the word friend for her, and she left it there.
Even though she was unknown and unremarked, she didn’t think that Niath would ever be truly anonymous, no matter where he went. He was striking to look at, with bright blue eyes and dark hair, standing taller than most men. She had seen more than one woman, and a few men, take a second look at the mage during the day. Niath had seemed completely unaware, which for some reason had struck Thea as funny.
“What now?” she asked idly, walking beside him through the crowds. It was past noon, the marketplace at Fallowfield given over entirely to a selection of entertainers, street performers and various makeshift food tents. The origins of the festival were supposedly lost in time, the date a traditional day of celebration. The city loved a festival, though, and it seemed that half the population had decided to celebrate even if most of them might not know what it was they were here to honour.
Forgetting the origins of the celebration was a necessary little white lie in a city watched over by the Ageless and the Archon. Thea knew that the festival day had originally been to honour one of the old gods, one who had loved laughter and dancing and mischief. But the old gods and goddesses had been replaced, centuries before, by the Ageless, and so almost no one talked about them, or openly remembered them.
“I saw an open grill just over there,” Niath said, pointing ahead. “It smells like island cooking,” he added.
“Oh? That’s rare for this city,” Thea commented.
“I know. I think you’ll like it,” he said, glancing across at her.
Her stomach did a weird flip, something that had happened a few times during the day. It was not unpleasant, but it was unsettling. She was used to working with Niath, and trusted him as much as she trusted anyone in the world. The trust should have brought a sense of calm, but her unsteady pulse and stomach seemed to have other ideas.
“Here we are,” Niath said.
The open grill he had referred to was exactly that. A metal grill set over low-burning wood, with skewers of what looked like mixed meat and vegetables cooking in the heat. The smells were enough to make Thea’s mouth water and realise it had been a long time since breakfast.
The grill was huge, clearly designed to cook for large numbers of people, but the area around it was empty. Thea caught a few people looking in their direction. City dwellers who were hesitant to try something completely new, she suspected.
The cooks next to the grill were a pair of middle-height humans, a married couple if Thea had to judge, with cool mid-brown skin, black hair tied back from their heads in intricate knots, and wide, welcoming smiles.
The woman said something to Niath in an accent Thea had not heard before, the words difficult to make out, and Niath answered in another language, prompting a flurry of exclamations and a rapid-fire conversation that Thea could not follow. Whatever had been discussed, it resulted in two plates of skewers being handed over, and the woman waving them to a nearby table, made up of an old barrel and a pair of stools set around it.
“Sorry,” Niath said, as they took their seats. “I didn’t mean to ignore you.”
“Not at all,” Thea said, smiling. “It’s nice to hear other languages spoken. What was that?”
“Oh, it’s Sengali,” Niath said, as if that should explain everything. “Try this. It’s got a kick, but it’s good.” He set a plate in front of her, handed her a fork, and then, at her blank look, s
Two large glasses of what looked like iced water appeared in front of them as Thea took her first bite.
Her brows lifted at the explosion of flavour in her mouth, far more powerful than she was used to.
“Are you alright?” Niath asked, looking concerned.
Thea swallowed the first mouthful. “Yes. It’s really good. It reminds me a bit of the food you cooked at your house,” she said, remembering sitting with Niath in his own kitchen, with a bowl of something full of savoury spice and smoky flavour in front of her. She took another bite of food.
“Yes,” Niath said, looking pleased. “That was a recipe from the same set of islands.”
The woman appeared beside him and said something in the other language that had Niath grinning, colour rising in his face. The woman put another plate down between them, with more skewers, and left.
“What did she say?” Thea asked, curious.
“Em. Well. She said I’m lucky to have found myself such a brave and lovely young woman,” Niath said, colour still high. “Apparently not many women in this city like the flavour of her cooking.”
Thea laughed, taking a sip of the water. “It’s delicious.” Then her ears and brain caught up with each other. Brave and lovely. She was not used to compliments. She ducked her head back to her plate, colour rising.
“Here, try this. The skewers she gave us first were adapted for the people here. This is more like what you’d get on the islands,” Niath said, offering her a skewer from the new plate. Thea took it, curious, and saw that it was made up of what looked like fruit and vegetables, with no meat.
“Ah, yes, the citizens here do like their meat,” she said. Even the poorest citizens in Accanter would have meat on their tables as often as they could.
Their arrival at the grill seemed to have broken whatever hesitation the local population had, and the empty tables and stools around them filled up with couples and small groups, the couple running the grill grinning ear to ear as their new customers tried the food put in front of them, a few of them exclaiming and grabbing the glasses of water, but most of them seeming as pleased with the new flavours as Thea was.
“I think we’ve set a trend,” she said, eyeing the bare skewers on her plate. She had not meant to eat quite so much, caught up in the new experience. “That was delicious. Oh, no, no more please,” she said, as the woman approached carrying a platter with a variety of food on it. “It was lovely.”
“Good, good. You come again, yes?” the woman said, and nodded to Niath. “Maybe he bring you back home, too.”
“I’d love to visit again,” Thea said honestly, getting to her feet along with Niath.
That seemed to please the cook, and she went on her way, distributing more food among her other patrons.
“Back home?” she asked Niath, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“The islands,” he said, an expression she could not read on his face. “Not the Sengali, although they are close.”
Thea frowned slightly, trying to recall the maps she had seen. The Sengali islands stretched into the ocean, far from here, a string of landmasses in a gentle curve, many of them barely populated. Thea could not imagine living there. On a piece of land which it might be possible to walk across in a day or so, and surrounded by water. There were other island nations not that far from there. Much bigger landmasses, more than large enough for big populations.
The islands had been independent nations, conquered by the Archon’s armies within Thea’s lifetime. Even the Sengali. The Archon’s wish for more land, more power, never seemed to fade, no matter how many people she ruled over. Unlike most places, the Archon seemed content to leave the islands mostly to their own devices, once they were under her rule.
Thea was going to ask another question, but the expression on Niath’s face stopped her. He had been relaxed, enjoying the day as much as she had. But something in her question, or his answer, had taken some of the joy out of his face. If those islands had been Niath’s home, then he would have lived through the Ageless’ arrival and take over. However calm things were now, it could not have been a good experience. So she kept her questions to herself.
“I think I need to walk for a bit,” she said. “Did I see jugglers on the other side of the marketplace?”
“You did,” Niath agreed. He took a lingering glance back at the grill, then fell into step beside her.
“I’m sorry. Did you want to stay?” Thea asked, stopping and facing him, wondering if she had mis-read his expression. “We don’t need to move.”
“No. It’s just strange hearing the language again after so long,” Niath told her. His expression had brightened, no hesitation in his answer.
Thea opened her mouth to ask him one of the dozen or so questions which rose in her mind at that comment, when a shriek split the air.
The shriek was followed by more screams, high pitched and shrill, cutting through the babble of the gathered crowds. Thea exchanged a glance with Niath and, without speaking, they turned and headed towards the sounds.
It seemed that almost everyone else had the same idea, and Thea found herself separated from Niath in the press of people around them. She could not move anywhere without bumping into someone else, her throat tightening, breath quickening. She did not like tight spaces. Only the open sky overhead and the memory of the screams kept her moving forward. It took her a while to make her way through the crowd, pushing forward as gently as she could as the screams were replaced with a silence that chilled her.
She almost ran into the back of a small, white-haired woman who was standing perfectly still, not even noticing Thea stumbling to a halt behind her.
This part of the marketplace, bordered by old farm buildings, was usually reserved for livestock, the hardened earth slightly uneven, dust stirring underfoot. The pegs and ropes that usually marked out areas and pens for the different sellers had been taken up, leaving an open space for the festival.
There had been entertainers here earlier, Thea remembered. They were gone now, so that was not what had the crowd transfixed.
A moment later, and Thea could also see what the woman was staring at.
There was an open space beyond the woman, an almost perfect circle formed by the crowds of people gathered around, the front line of them holding their positions, not moving forward onto the bare earth.
The space in the middle was not empty, though.
The first thing Thea noticed were the feathers. Brilliant blinding white in the bright afternoon sun. Scattered carelessly across the ground, some of them drifting with an unseen and unfelt breeze. Feathers like that belonged to only one sort of creature. The rulers of this city and most of the worlds.
A single feather would fetch a price that could keep a family fed for a year. It was against the law to own an Ageless feather, and yet there was a market for them. People willing to risk the punishment. The feathers were prized, in some circles, for their supposed healing qualities. Or just as a beautiful possession. And there were plenty of feathers drifting in the light breeze.
No one was trying to capture them, though. Thea found herself holding her breath, waiting for someone to move, to surge forward. No one did. The bystanders were stock-still, holding their places in the circle they had formed, staring at what was in the midst of the feathers.
Among the floating bits of white was a body. Black-clad, with blond hair gleaming among the feathers, eyes open and staring up at the sky.
Ageless.
There was a dead Ageless in front of her. Lying on the uneven ground that usually held livestock.
Thea’s head spun. There was not enough air. She had never seen a dead Ageless before. She doubted anyone around her had.
But everyone around her would know, as well as she did, what it meant. And that was why the screams and cries of alarm had been replaced by silence and stillness.
Not far away, Thea could hear the unmistakable shrill of a Watch whistle. Good. Someone was alert enough to be getting help.
