Dark Fate: The Gathering (The Dark Fate Chronicles Book 1) (74 page)

She was fully strapped in and Bora was sidling toward the end of the huge perch that stretched across the length of the room when Rouke came charging out of the changing area. The bird he had summoned was one she did not recognize. It had flown in shortly after her final buckles had been tightened and now waited patiently as the handlers placed its harness.

The exhilaration she felt as Bora hopped off the perch and began his plummet toward the ground was just as intense this time as it had been every flight since her first. Her heart leapt and soared as the close details of Terrandal blurred by and the buildings of the palace grew before her.

Bora’s wings opened, breaking their descent. She echoed his screech of triumph with her own yell as the feathered back pumped below her, driving them back into the sky.

She let Bora plunge through the bottom of the low-hanging clouds, and she laughed out loud as her face grew cold and clammy in the mist.

When they broke into the open sky above the cloud layer, Sloane leaned to the side sharply, pulling on the leader hoops as she did.

The great bird ceased flapping its wings and stretched them to their fullest, but tilted them to follow her command. The two spun in midair until their upward momentum crept to a halt. Bora screeched a second time. It was an ear-hammering sound Sloane had come to cherish. As their climb transformed into a fall, the great bird turned into it and tucked his wings as they sped toward the earth. When they had dropped to a point just below the aviary, Bora opened his wings. They veered sharply to circle the great tree several times, spiraling wider with each rotation. When Bora’s wings were outspread, as they were now, the flight feathers caressed the air. The air flowed through the massive wings and they guided the rushing wind to their own benefit.

Rouke and his mount settled into the air nearby. His watchful eyes scanned in all directions, searching the skies for potential threats. It was hard to imagine what possible threats could come against her here, but Rouke, like her, loved to fly and would use any excuse to do so.

The Rohdaekhann were not so plentiful that just anyone had the opportunity to fly, and the birds themselves were choosy about who they allowed to be paired with them. Sloane had not been refused yet, but more than one person in the aviary sported deep scars or missing digits.

Bora squawked and dove unexpectedly.

Sloane yelped in surprise, tightening her grip on the leader hoops. She pulled back on the leather rings in an attempt to bring the giant bird level again.

Bora refused to respond. The surface of the Cliffs of Judgment began to define itself as they hurled closer.

Sloane desperately yanked and hauled on the guiding hoops as the tops of the falls flashed by. “Bora!” she yelled, “what are you doing?” The bird ignored her plea as definitively as he ignored the guiding hoops she was fruitlessly straining against.

Oh, Eos!
Sloane thought, and also screamed aloud, realizing she and Rouke had been looking in the wrong places for assassins. Somehow, they had gotten to Bora.

Sloane gritted her teeth and reared back, struggling with the guiding hoops and attempting to pull Bora out of his suicidal dive by sheer force. One of the hoops snapped under her desperate attempt and spun into the giant bird’s wake as she screamed.

Bora screeched and his wings snapped open.

The sudden action threw Sloane flat onto his broad back and drove all the air from her lungs. Her head slapped against the hard leather framework of the harness, splitting her lip. Pain surged through her face and chest.

The great eagle swooped so close to the jagged rocks that he was forced to extend his clawed feet to fend off the highest of the boulders that protruded from the surface of the water.

Sloane’s eyes widened as they approached the dense jungle on one side of the pools from which they swooped. She had no breath with which to scream, but both hands found a white-knuckled grip on Bora’s harness as the giant bird alternately tucked his wings close to his body and snapped them open, navigating the maze of the hanging vines and protruding branches at terrific speed.

Sloane closed her eyes and tucked herself as close to Bora’s broad back as she could, trying desperately to not get dragged from her saddle as they continued their racing progress through the canopy. The perilous flight came to a jarring halt, and she opened her eyes.

Bora’s massive talons sank into the bark on the trunk of one of the giant trees. They were clinging at an angle some fifty feet from the forest floor. Bora screeched with what seemed like agitation, flapping his wings and bobbing his head. Leaves and other debris filled the air around them, stirred up by his nervous commotion.

Sloane looked around warily. “Easy, boy. What’s gotten into you?” she asked, stroking his neck. She had never seen any of the great birds act so anxious, but then again, she had never seen one of them try to dash themselves upon the rocks either.

The surrounding jungle appeared to harbor no threats’ the setting was almost serene, in fact. Vines and branches swayed rhythmically to some soundless tune that might have been soothing if not for Sloane’s near brush with death. The wind gently rustled the heavy leaves around them in a calming hush that settled her mind and calmed her rattled nerves. She lingered for only a moment before returning her attention to Bora.

A pang of regret stabbed at her heart as she looked down at the great bird. Flying with her favorite was now something she could no longer risk. More, if he had been tampered with somehow, it was possible the other birds could also present a danger to her. In fact, now that she thought it through, the entire aviary would have to be investigated from frame to loft, lest the birds put themselves and others in danger.

Sloane shook her head in frustration.
Damn our royal blood
, she thought. If she and her sister had been peasant girls, none of this would have ever occurred.

Of course, the other side to that coin wasn’t much more favorable—she would have likely married a soldier and been ruled by others who were more interested in themselves than the common good. At least, being who she was, she might be able to guide the rule of the nation to benefit the ruled.

She tugged gently on her leader hoop and clucked softly to the agitated bird. “Come on, boy,” she said gently. “Lets go.”

After a few squawks of protest, the giant bird released the tree trunk and flared his wings out before dropping to the ground. Leaves the size of dinner plates brushed against Bora’s ankles as he stepped tentatively for better footing.

Once her mount seemed calm, Sloane busied herself with the buckles that held her to the bird’s back. Getting into and out of the harness was much harder without the help of the handlers, but eventually she was able to slide off Bora’s back and down to the jungle floor. The ground was damp and soft under her feet. She stepped cautiously from the giant eagle until she found more solid footing and evaluated her surroundings with more scrutiny.

She had thought the jungle peaceful from her perch high above the forest floor, but now she found it unnerving. There was no sound beyond the creak and slide of her leathers and the warbling squawk from Bora. No birds. No insects. A slight breeze added a little life to the tableau, but instead of a comforting sound, the hiss of the wind through the limbs sent chills down her back.

Rouke’s voice floated through the trees, breaking the ominous feeling. “Princess!” The call was faint. “Princess?!”

Relief flooded through her upon hearing Rouke’s voice. “I’m here!” She had forgotten he was beside her when Bora plummeted without warning. Thank Eos he was a persistent bodyguard.

Sloane patted Bora on the neck once more and spoke gently. “Find your way back, my friend.” The giant bird tipped its head to her before making its clumsy way across the forest floor to the open air above the Tanglevine. She watched him go, hoping he would be fine, and hoping more that this was just some sort of accident born of her lack of experience rather than an attempt on her life—or the bird’s.

She climbed over a fallen winewood. Her hands still shook, so she clasped them together as she made her way toward Rouke’s calls.
Well, you did almost die
, she thought. She took a calming breath and walked out onto the southern bank of the Tanglevine.

Rouke stood on a large boulder farther upstream. He had his head back and his hands cupped to his mouth as he called for her. His mount was across the river as well, eyeing the water with a predator’s focus.

“I’m here!” she called and waved an arm to catch his attention.

He came off the rock with a leap and ran her way, kicking up sand as he did. “Thank Eos!” Rouke panted as he came to a stop in front of her. “Are ya okay?”

“Yes. A bit shaken, perhaps, but I’m fine.”

“What happened? I thought you’d gone mad!” Now that he could see she was unharmed, a grin made its way across his rough face.

“I don’t know, exactly.” She frowned, considering the implications of her thoughts before giving them voice. “I believe the Rohdaekhann has been tampered with.”

Rouke looked back from where Sloane had come out of the jungle. “Is the bird...”

“No. He is uninjured, but confused and afraid, I think,” she replied. The more she considered the event, the more she hoped it was her fault. She could fix that.

“That’d be odd, for sure.” He scratched the stubble on his chin. “You can ride with me back to the aviary—”

“I wouldn’t want to risk it, Rouke,” Sloane interrupted. “Not until the flock has been inspected.” She waved a hand at the falls looming out of the jungle canopy before them. “I can see the Cliffs of Judgment from here. I should be able make my way back up to the Citadel from there.”

Rouke nodded thoughtfully, then cupped his hands once more, emitting a piercing whistle. His mount perked its head up to look at them. Powerful wings flapped as the giant bird leapt from the ground. He floated across the river on the moist air and landed near them with a squawk, ruffling his feathers.

Rouke approached the bird and pulled his sword and a few other items from their places around the saddle. He turned back to Sloane, buckles clicking. “Well, let’s be off, then.”

They followed the riverbank back to the falls, leaving the eagles to their own devices. The great birds would fly back to the aviary when they had had enough of the tight-fitting harnesses.

Sloane looked up at the cliffs that had provided the means of execution for every criminal who had been sentenced to death in the grand courts of Waterfall Citadel. A jutting peninsula hung out from the falls, several hundred feet above the rocky basin. The stone platform had been worked to a smooth finish. Carved buttresses in the shape of the mighty Rohdaekhann supported the platform like the mermaids on the bow of a great galley. The ledge was wide enough to hold three men across at its narrowest point—occasionally, the condemned required encouragement to make the last step. A shiny emerald tabard dangled over the end. Even from here, she could see the embroidered tree of gold decorating the fabric that stirred gently in the wind.

A bed of sharp stone peeked out from the shallow waters that surrounded the base of the mighty cliffs. The standing law, passed down from old, pardoned any who dove from the cliff and lived. To Sloane’s knowledge, no one had ever survived.

A viewing area had been built near the jagged rocks for witnesses to the executions. An open circle of ancient stone provided the flooring of the viewing area and each stone was carved in such a way that the entire circle appeared to be spinning. Lush green moss covered the short stone wall that surrounded the viewing area, protecting spectators from the splashing water nearby.

Sloane hesitated as she and Rouke approached the massive dais under the falls. A group of people had gathered. She narrowed her eyes. Executions were performed in the morning. What were these people doing here as night began to fall?

She placed a hand on Rouke’s shoulder. “Be on your guard.”

Rouke placed his hand on the hilt of his short sword and nodded. Together, they began to make their way toward the viewing area. The rough trail turned into smooth cobblestone steps that the two climbed easily to reach the flat platform above.

Upon reaching the top, Sloane let out a small cry of shock.

In front of her stood three people. The first was an older man dressed in an ill-fitting robe. Something about the man tugged at her memory, but she couldn’t focus on him, for the next in line was Erik. He was wrapped in bandages and looked as if he himself had just fallen from the cliffs. Consternated as she was to find Erik here, the last person in line left her mouth hanging in shock. Sacha stood between the two men, looking ragged but determined.

Sloane crossed the platform at a dead run. “By Eos!” She crashed into her sister and embraced Sacha with such force that she lifted her twin from her feet. “I thought to never see you again!”

Sacha groaned under the pressure and laughed, tears running down her cheeks. “Me too.”

They stood and hugged each other for what seemed an eternity. Sloane sniffed and finally stepped back, holding her sister by the shoulders at arm’s length. “I have no words...”

Sacha’s mouth twitched with a smile that did not reach her eyes. “Me neither.”