Winged: A Novella (Of Two Girls) (2 page)

Captain Sagan was talking about the basics
of bird flight, using detailed drawings of bird skeletons. She
settled down to listen, knowing somehow that the academy was going
to be an interesting place. She was going to fly and she
knew
it deep inside her bones.

The ground looked ominously far away from
her dangling feet.

“If you keep on paying attention to your
feet, Miss Riley,” the voice above her boomed out sternly. “You
will remain in the air until the end of the day!”

She hung onto the rope, feeling it rub
against her already-sore palms. She forced herself to move upwards,
focus on the voice above her. The wind tugged at her fiercely,
pulling at her breeches and making her feel extremely naked… cold.
She swayed, because the rope was swaying, because the leo-fin was
swaying gently in the incoming wind current. She could hear the
leo-fin sing its own unique song. Shaped like the
lion fish
,
a fish from the distant tropics, it had captured her imagination
ever since she saw it land in Dorset.

Or rather, its
creak-creak-creak
voice as it flew suspended in mid-air for the flightmen’s basic
training. That
creak
voice was the result of its engines
working hard to keep the entire craft airborne, combined with the
lift of air currents.

“Rainbows,” Alethia would say during meal
times in the Dining Hall. “They speak in rainbows.”

Rainbows. How she wished she could see one
now. Not while she was dangling in the middle of the sky, feet
wishing for terra firma. Maybe, she was not destined to fly
anymore.

“Pay attention, Miss Riley!” The voice
boomed out again. Stenton, their instructor.

She looked up, almost lost her grip and
quickly clung onto the rope, her heart pounding in her chest.
Come on, come on
, she goaded herself. She called up images
of a shriveled harridan shrieking verbal abuse at her and it got
her most motivated. She began to move slowly and when she faltered,
stricken with exhaustion, she would think of the shrieking harridan
and she would have energy.

It was a sense of immense relief when
Stenton pulled her into the compartment area of the leo-fin and she
collapsed onto the floor. Her hands were red with new blisters and
she felt as if she had run a mile without stopping. Her arms ached
terribly.

“Less tarrying, Miss Riley,” Stenton said,
not unkindly. “More focus on your task.”

She nodded, knowing that she had
accomplished her own personal best. As for her personal demons, she
still needed that extra energy to repel them away.

~*~

“Heard that you almost fell from the
leo-fin.”

She met Alethia during the mid-day meal. How
Alethia got to know about her disastrous training session was a
mystery. Then again, the academy was closely knit and news spread
easily.

The fair-haired girl navigated around with a
walking stick. She also used her hands to touch the surfaces around
her. She was uncanny though – she was adept at knowing spatial
direction. In College Sable, she was nicknamed “Ghost” by a
sarcastic student and the name seemed to have caught on. She seemed
to shrug off the nickname nonchalantly. Katherine knew that she was
actually quite hurt by that rude comment.

The mid-day meal was a hearty vegetable stew
with freshly baked bread. Most of College Sable sat at their
designated tables. Katherine and Alethia sat at their own spots.
Katherine soaked the bread thoroughly with the savory stew. It
reminded her of her mother’s cooking.

“I almost did. But Stenton was a cruel
taskmaster and made me climb the rope in a jiffy.” She said,
chewing on the bread.

“Stenton is well-known for his cruelty. But
he is actually quite a kind man.” Alethia’s voice was always soft,
gentle. Katherine had never heard her raise it in anger.

Katherine glanced at her blisters, still raw
from the morning’s climb. They would heal in time. No doubt, there
would be more in the future. She was not so sure about her ankle.
It was painful when she walked. Stenton had already made note of
it. So did Doctor Ash, the academy’s resident physician.

By Jove, she really wanted the ankle to be
well. Inwardly, she cursed the person who caused it, only to pause.
It was bad enough to curse. Her mother did say something about
curses coming back to haunt people like spirits of old.

“Katherine?”

Alethia’s voice broke her reverie.

“You are unusually solemn,” the girl
continued and Katherine could see a slight frown creasing the
smooth pale brow. The sightless eyes were forever open. Yet,
Katherine knew that Alethia could easily feel her emotions.

“I am just thinking, that’s all.” Katherine
said, realizing her excuse sounded flat and unconvincing. Later,
Alethia would sit down with her again and probe it out of her in
her gentle, unassuming manner.

She wondered if she was indeed adapting well
to the Flight Academy. The lessons were agreeable – more so than a
small Dorset class-room - and she was learning everyday about
flight and the basics of it. There was time for rest and for work –
the Pilotmaster and lecturers made sure of that.
A tired
pilot
, they said,
makes a careless pilot
. The Great
Manor was a splendid building. There was hot and cold water in
their dormitories, a luxury – she knew – especially in autumn and
winter. There was a hydraulic pump-core working underneath the
Great Manor, powering the electricity that in turn powered the
lamps and other sources of light in the Manor. It was said that the
Manor was a Marvel for its age and there were many people who
wanted to do the same for their own endeavors.

There was First Light when the lights came
on at the break of dawn, waking the students from their slumber.
After First Light and breakfast, the morning began with Athletics
and other exercises. Lessons began promptly after Athletics and
continued until late afternoon, near Tea. Last Light was turned on
before bed and it was a time for students to rest, play games and
converse with their friends.

She had to agree that she enjoyed the
academy, more so when she saw the leo-fins in their glory and to be
so close to them. She would only fly next year, “when you find your
balance, young lady!” Captain Sagan told her once, kindly but
firmly enough for her to take note of the lecturer’s words.

She knew she was simply awful at balancing.
Stenton thought she had a problem with her inner ear. She just
simply could not balance well on the beams.
A problem
, she
felt her heart sinking,
at the helm of a leo-fin
.

“Katherine,” Alethia’s voice was more
persistent. “
Katherine?
”

“Oh!” Katherine shook herself and finished
her by-now cold stew.

~*~

When Last Light illuminated the Great Manor,
Katherine found herself at the Exercise Hall, staring thoughtfully
at the beams.

The beams criss-crossed each other and were
designed to teach poise and equilibrium. For her, they were …
obstacles.
Frustrating, harrowing obstacles
. She saw the
rest doing it with various degrees of grace and poise and she felt
like a lumbering cow whenever she stood on one of the beams.

In the dim light, she touched the beam,
already polished smooth by countless soles and hands. She lifted
herself up onto the wooden apparatus, feeling it creak ominously
beneath her bare feet. She inhaled deeply and began to walk,
placing her right foot before her left carefully. She lifted her
arms to give her enough balance.

At first, it was fine. She was doing
remarkably well and Stenton, if he saw her, would have been
pleased.

Then, her ankle, that accursed damned ankle,
gave.

She fell awkwardly onto the cushioning mats,
bloomers and all. For a moment, she lay flat on her back, staring
at the high ceiling, breathing quickly in the darkness, glad nobody
saw her embarrassment. Far away, she could hear jocular music, some
people playing the violin and the pianoforte. There was some
singing and general laughter.

And she was flat on her sore back, her hands
still stinging with the morning’s yield of blisters and her ankle
throbbing dismally. If she could cry, she would. But she did not.
Captain Sagan would have choice words to say if she did see her in
this present predicament.

Something about balance, she thought
gloomily. Somewhere in her head, a shriveled old woman laughed
harshly like a blighted harpy.

~*~

She was back in that cramped classroom
again. Back with the insipid simpering girls who would have been
her friends but were not, would never be. Their minds were always
on lace and how to catch the eye of the nearest farm-boy. Hers were
mathematics and flying. Always flying.

They were whispering and watching her
side-ways, while she sat next to the window. She could see the rare
blue skies, glorious and inviting, without being obscured by the
black smokes from the nearby factory.

She
appeared.

Uptight, wearing a prim dress and a pair of
proper black shoes, the old woman walked into the room. Her face
was creased, her nose hooked and her eyes were like cold gimlets.
Her hair had long gone white and there was no use trying to guess
her actual age. She always held a brown belt, “for strict
discipline”, she would say proudly.

“Good morning, Miss Sharpton,” the girls
sang sweetly.

“Katherine!” Her voice was shrill.

“Good morning,” Katherine said quietly.

Miss Sharpton glared at her, basilisk-like.
Katherine knew she loved the simpering idiots, because they were
“lady-like”. She laughed. These girls would know only Dorset for
the rest of their lives. Not her, Katherine Riley.

“Katherine Riley,” the old woman’s voice was
icicle-cold. “Explain to the class what balance is.”

Now, it was wrong. All wrong. What kind of
question was that? She did not know how to explain balance. Nor did
she understand balance. Physics? Physical balance? Mental balance?
What kind of balance?

She gasped as the old harridan’s eyes flamed
red. Katherine shook her head hard, trying to wake herself up.
This is a dream. This is a dream. This is a dream.

The old harridan stalked towards her,
witch-thin and witch-terrible. She had her belt ready and Katherine
was quite well acquainted with the belt. Her ankles bore previous
scars.

“So, Miss Riley,” the old witch snarled.
“What is balance?” Her bony fingers twitched, as if in wicked
anticipation.

“Balance is…” Katherine stammered, suddenly
at a loss. The tittering in the background had a cruel edge to it.
Everything around her went dark, except for Miss Sharpton, whose
visage filled her entire vision.

“What is balance?” Miss Sharpton demanded.
“Miss Riley, do not tarry with your answer!”

“Balance is,” Katherine took in a deep
breath, knowing that deep down, even in the dream, she was shaking
like an aspen tree. “Balance is learning to stand on two feet.” The
answer came forth from her mouth unbidden.

“Wrong!” Miss Sharpton crowed triumphantly
and down came the brown belt, hitting Katherine at her right arm.
It stung like fire, even in the dream…

She woke up with a start in the moonlight.
The bed-sheets were damp with her perspiration. She was surprised
that everyone else was sleeping soundly. Her arm smarted with
phantom pain.

Alethia sat up on her bed.

“I heard you shouting,” the girl explained.
Alethia was a light sleeper. “Did you have a nightmare?” She patted
the area around her, as if trying to get her bearings.

“Yes,” Katherine said, half-apologetic for
waking the Forrester girl up. “Please go back to bed.”

Alethia seemed to open her mouth to say
something, changed her mind and lay back down again. The moonlight
cast a faint white glow on her pale hair. Soon, Katherine heard her
breathing regularly, meaning that she had finally slept.

Katherine slowly sank back into her own
goose-down bed, her heartbeats finally ceasing their mad drumming.
It was a bad dream. A nightmare. Yet, she remembered what she said
in the dream, to the nightmarish Miss Sharpton. And there was truth
in it.

The balance of the world was not just the
balance of an antiquated globe left behind by history. It was not a
fixed world, with arcane words and ancient creatures with “There Be
Dragons” marked on perceived dangerous areas. It was always
shifting, like the shifting clouds and currents. Continents were
shifting boundaries with the Powers making conquests everywhere. In
the Far East. In the Indies. In the Spice Islands.