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AVEN WOKE UP AS THE canoe slid to a stop on the beach. He blinked, shook his head, then rolled off the side of the canoe, standing in water up to his knees. Without being told, he grabbed onto the forward boom and pushed. His father was on the other side of the canoe, doing the same, and they pushed the canoe further up onto the sands and out of reach of the tides.
“Go and scrub, the pair of you,” Aleia called. “I’ll start a fire.”
Aven straightened and looked over at the girl. “How is she?”
“She’s starting to come out of it, I think. We need to hurry. I want to be here when she wakes,” Jehan answered. He beckoned Aven over, and they headed inland. There were two reasons that they used this island as a shelter — there was a deep cave where they could shelter in very bad storms and where they could store supplies. And, more importantly for Jehan, there was a spring of sweet water, one that supplied Jehan with ample drinking water, and that spilled into a natural bathing pool.
Aven stripped his kilt and vest off at the water’s edge, then dove in, swimming down to the bottom of the pool. It was dark underwater, cool in the depths, and Aven rose to the surface and flipped onto his back to float and look up at the stars. Sweet water didn’t trigger the change the way that salt water did, so he could bathe without having to wait to resume his human form. But he couldn’t breathe underwater without the change, and the feeling of being submerged and yet not being able to breathe was very odd and very uncomfortable.
“Remember to scrub.”
Aven turned to look at Jehan, who was standing near the edge of the pool, rubbing his skin with sand.
“All over?” Aven asked. “Or just where the water touched.”
“All over. We can’t be careless.”
Aven nodded and swam to join his father, scooping up handfuls of fine sand from the bottom of the pool and scrubbing his skin until it tingled. “What about my clothes?” he asked. “Can they be cleaned? I like this vest.”
“I’m afraid not,” Jehan answered. “Once the oil has sunk into the fibers, it won’t come out. Everything we’re wearing needs to be burned.”
“We’ll need clothes for her, then.” Aven frowned. “How about feathers?”
In the dim light of the moon, Aven saw his father’s eyes widen. “I have no idea. That’s a terrifying thought, though. Let’s go back. She’ll be waking up soon.”
Aven fell in next to his father, carrying his clothes in a bundle in one hand. Jehan paused, looked around as if he was expecting someone to appear, then turned to Aven. “Ven, don’t tell her we have the chest.”
“What?”
“Don’t tell her that we have the chest. Not yet. I’m not sure who she is, or what’s going on, but I have a theory.” Jehan ran one hand through his hair. “Your mother thinks I’m insane. Seeing ghosts. Maybe I am. But for now, humor your father and don’t mention the chest.”
“If that’s what you want, Fa,” Aven agreed, fighting down an unfamiliar wave of resentment. He was getting wholly tired of being so confused.
His father sighed and reached out to cup Aven’s cheek. “That’s a look that I never thought I’d see on your face, Ven.”
“I... I have a look?” Aven stammered. “What look?”
“Angry. Resentful,” Jehan answered. “I’m sorry, Ven. Truly. We probably should have told you, but your mother thought you too young until only just recently. Then we just... never...” He paused. “Aven, I need you to understand—”
“That’s kind of difficult, when you won’t tell me anything!” Aven snapped, then felt his face grow warm. “Fa, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I think we deserve that, your mother and I. Let me tell you this. The day I found out that your mother was pregnant? That was one of the happiest days of my life. And two days later, everything changed. My world was ripped apart, and I lost someone I loved as much as I love your mother. I won’t go through that again. I will do anything I have to in order to keep from losing her, and you. And if that includes not telling you everything, then that is what I will do. So yes, I’m sorry. But not much.”
Aven stared at his father. “Fa, what... who?”
“Long story, Ven. Let’s go check on our Airborn girl, then we’ll see how much I can tell you before I fall asleep.”
They walked in silence back to the canoe. Aleia had lit a fire, and Aven could smell something cooking. He surrendered his bundle of clothes to his father, and went to the canoe, taking a fresh kilt out of a compartment. As he wrapped it around his waist, he heard a soft pop from behind him.
“What was that?” he called, turning and seeing that the fire was burning higher than before.
“Inferno oil,” Jehan called back. “On our clothes. We’re going to need to be careful with the decking.”
“We’re going to redo the decking,” his mother corrected. “Every bit of it. We’ll start felling trees tomorrow.”
Melody trilled, and when Aven turned to look at her, he realized why. The girl’s eyes were open, and she was regarding him with an oddly calm gaze.
“Fa,” he called. “We have a guest.” He went over to the girl and crouched next to her. He smiled gently and asked, “Are you going to stay awake?”
She blinked, studied him for a moment, then looked thoughtful. “I don’t know you. But I should.” She looked around. “Or am I dreaming?”
“You’re not dreaming,” Aven answered. “You’re awake. And you’re safe.”
“I don’t think that the last one will ever be true,” she murmured. She sat up, then groaned, “Oh, my head!”
“Do you know what they gave you?” Jehan asked, wrapping a kilt around his waist. “Did they tell you?”
She looked up, and her eyes widened. “I know you. You’re Jehan.” She smiled broadly. “I’ve seen you before.”
Jehan looked startled. “That’s not possible.”
“In dreams,” the girl added. “Visions. I described you, and my mother told me your name. I knew I would see you someday.”
Jehan sat down and closed his eyes. “I knew it,” he murmured. “I knew it had to be... what’s your name?”
“Aria,” she answered. She looked around. “Aleia. Is she here?”
“I am.” Aleia said as she came closer. To Aven’s surprise, she was carrying her knife in one hand, and a torch in the other. “Aria, you said?”
“Aria, daughter of Liara and Milon,” Aria answered. She looked around. “Where are we?”
“First, answer my question,” Jehan said. “Did they tell you what they gave you?”
Aria frowned. “I... I think they said it was Euphoria?”
Jehan sighed. “That explains it. You’re not going to be awake long, Aria. Let’s get some food into you, and some sweet water. Then you need to scrub. You were locked in with—”
“Inferno oil. I know,” Aria finished. “They told me that the ship was bound for Forge, and they were going to burn the city to the ground.”
Aleia swore softly. Jehan just looked stunned. “Forge? Burn Forge? But...”
“I don’t know why,” Aria said. “No one said anything where I could hear.” She turned toward Aven. “I don’t know you.”
“You said that,” Aven said. “Why would you, though?”
“Ven, let your father see to her. Come with me,” Aleia said. There was a tone to her voice that put a stop to any arguments, and Aven nodded and got to his feet. He followed her back to the fire, where she tossed the torch onto the blaze.
“Do you know the name Milon?” Aleia asked.
Aven frowned, thinking. Then he shook his head. “I don’t think so. Why?”
Aleia sighed and sat down, gesturing for Aven to sit with her. She stared at the fire for a long time, then spoke without looking at Aven.
“I never knew why he chose me. Out of all of my sisters, all of the cousins, what made me special?”
“You mean Fa?”
She smiled slightly. Sadly. “I mean Milon. Milon was the Heir, Aven. Heir to the Firstborn. After Firstborn Tirine took her place on Axia’s Throne, Milon was the one who the Mother entrusted with the Diadem. He was the Heir, and he came on progress. He came to the Water tribe first. They always do, since Abin was the first of Axia’s Companions. He came to my mother’s canoe, and he chose me. Then we went ashore at the Palace and went north to the Solstice Fair village, where the Air mountains spill into the Earth tribe lands. That’s where we found Liara. She was as close as a sister to me. We went further south into the Earth tribe lands and we met with them. And Milon chose this awkward, skinny, half-trained healer boy—”
“Fa.”
Aleia looked at him and nodded, then laughed. “He was so clumsy, when I first met him. He hadn’t yet come into his growth, and he was all hands and feet—”
“Ama, how old were you?”
“Sixteen, when I took the Water gem from Milon’s hand,” Aleia answered. “Your father was fifteen. We went south next, to Forge. Milon already knew who he’d be giving the Fire gem to. That was Memfis. We were his Companions. We were the ones who’d be with him when he became the Firstborn, to speak for our tribes. You understand?”
“I know the lore, yes,” Aven said.
“We had five years together. Five years of learning and growing, and loving each other. I came back to the Water tribe once a year, for a season, and every time, I couldn’t wait to go back on land, back to the Palace. Back to them. Milon...” she paused, and took a deep breath. “Milon had a way about him. He loved everyone, and everyone loved him. But he had a special place in his heart for Memfis, and for Liara.”
“And Aria is their daughter.”
Aleia nodded. “Liara was spending her season with her flock –”
“Flock?” Aven interrupted.
“Oh,” Aleia murmured. “Oh, of course. The Airborn, they call their family groups flocks. Like we call ours canoes. Liara was with her flock, and wasn’t in the Palace when the attack happened. Milon—” Her voice cracked. “He died that night. He made Memfis promise to get us out, and he died.”
Aven stared into the fire, watching the dancing flames and the rising sparks. He heard footsteps behind them, and his father’s voice, “May we join you?”
“Aria shouldn’t,” Aven said, turning in place to face them. “She’s been lying in inferno oil for we don’t know how long. It’s in her hair and her clothes, and her feathers. She needs to bathe first.”
“I’ll take you,” Aleia said. She got to her feet and dusted sand off her skirt. “You can tell me about how Liara is. We’ll have to find a way to get word to her. She must be frantic.”
Aria shook her head. “My mother is dead. They killed her when they took me.”
“Oh, Aria!” Aleia breathed. She put her arm around the girl’s waist. “Come on. You can bathe, then you can eat. We’ll hear your story after. And if you fall asleep, we’ll hear your story in the morning.” She led Aria away from the fire, leaving Aven alone with Jehan.
“Your mother told you?” Jehan asked.
“Yes,” Aven answered. “Up to the point when you got out.”
Jehan nodded, touching his pendant. “I asked your mother to come with me. We went to the healing center where I was born, and I finished my training. If I’d finished it before, if I’d known then what I know now, maybe I could have saved him. Milon, I mean. Once I was finished with my training, we came here.”
Aven nodded. “And it’s not safe—”
“Because Mannon will kill us on sight,” Jehan answered. “Because we’re proof that his rule is illegitimate. He’ll kill us, and he might kill you. He’ll probably kill you, because he can’t be sure that you’re not Milon’s child.”
Aven gaped at Jehan. “What?”
“You’re not,” Jehan answered. “You’re mine. We’re certain of that. Milon was in Forge visiting his grandmother when Aleia came back from her season with the tribe. So he wasn’t there for her welcome home. Memfis never slept with the girls. He was completely devoted to Milon. No, Ven. You’re mine to your fingertips.”
“And Ama’s to my fins,” Aven finished the old joke. Jehan grinned.
“But because you’re mine, because you’re Aleia’s, you’re automatically in danger, if ever Mannon got his hands on you. He might kill you out of hand. Or he might not. Mannon is... unpredictable.”
“And Aria?” Aven asked. “How’d she stay safe?”
“What do you know about the Air tribe, and where they live?” Jehan answered.
“They live in the mountains, I know that. And that’s all I really know.”
“Their mountains are impossible to reach if you don’t have wings,” Jehan answered. “As long as Liara kept to her home aerie, no one would have been able to reach her. Memfis was supposed to try and get word to her. I assume that he did, since she didn’t go back to the Palace at the end of her season. Or maybe it was just that word of the fall reached them. Doesn’t much matter now. The question that I have is how did they get Aria?” He reached out and stirred the contents of the cook-pot, then frowned. “Ven, go fetch some of that hardtack we took from the ship.”
“That stuff is food?” Aven asked as he got to his feet.
Jehan blinked, looking startled. “Yes, it’s food. Why? What did you think it was?”
Aven grinned, thinking of the hard, coarse squares that had filled the cask. “Ballast,” he called over his shoulder. Jehan’s echoing laughter followed him down to the canoe.
***
BY THE TIME AVEN RETURNED to the fireside, Jehan had started ladling the soup into bowls. He put a piece of hardtack at the bottom of Aria’s bowl, and set it aside.
“It’ll soften as it heats, and it will dissolve and thicken the broth,” he’d explained to Aven. “It’ll be closer to what she’s used to eating. Do you want to try it?”
Aven had considered it, then refused. He wasn’t entirely certain that the brick-like things were food, no matter what his father said.
“Fa, you said they clipped her wings. What does that mean?”
“It means they cut the feathers she needs to fly. They’ll grow back in, but it will take time.” Jehan passed a bowl to Aven. “So, what are you thinking?”
“I really don’t know,” Aven admitted. “It’s a lot to take in.”
“There’s more,” Jehan said. “You know how the storms have been getting worse? That’s part of it.”
“How?”
“Mannon is not the rightful ruler. He murdered the Firstborn and her Heir. He’s an affront to the Mother and to Adavar itself.” He frowned. “He’s the grit inside the oyster, Aven.”
“It doesn’t sound as if Adavar is making a pearl,” Aven replied. He saw something moving in the dark, and sat up. It was Aleia, and she was alone.
“I’d forgotten that Air folk have a nudity taboo,” she explained. She went to the canoe, took out some clothes, and went back into the darkness.
“Nudity taboo?” Aven asked.
“It’s cold in the mountains, Ven,” Jehan said. “So they cover up, all over. Took Liara almost a year to get used to Milon, Memfis and Aleia walking around bare.”
Aven nodded. Then he frowned. “But, their wings? Don’t they get in the way? How do they wear... well, vests? Or anything up top?”
Jehan turned, and nodded at the shadows. “You’re about to find out.”
Aleia approached the fire first, then stopped and held her hand out. “It’s all right. You can come closer.”
“But—” Aria’s voice came out of the darkness.
“This is how we dress,” Aleia said, her voice firm. “It’s normal here. I know it’s not what you’re used to, but we don’t have what you’re used to. Your choices are wear it, or go bare.”
“It’s... strange,” Aria said, and came into the light. She was wearing one of Aleia’s wrapped skirts, and a red top that Aven recognized as being part of Aleia’s formal dance costume. He understood why Aleia had chosen it — it wrapped around the chest, covering the wearer’s breasts. It was, Aven thought, the only piece of clothing on this island that would accommodate Aria’s wings.
“It suits you,” he offered. “You look very nice. The red is a good color for you.”
Aria’s eyes widened, and her cheeks colored. “Thank you,” she murmured, and moved to sit near the fire. Jehan handed her the bowl of soup that he’d prepared for her.
“It’s not quite what you’re used to, and it’s probably not spiced enough. I know you probably like some heat to it.”
She smiled and nodded. “I do, but I will not complain. Hunger is the best spice, no?”
Jehan laughed. “Your mother used to say that.”
“She taught me, when she taught me to cook,” Aria said. She sipped the hardtack-thickened broth and smiled. “It is good. Thank you.”
“Once you’ve eaten, will you tell us your story?” Aleia asked, taking another bowl from Jehan. “What happened?”
Aria frowned slightly. “Mother told me that my father was a Smoke Dancer. That his blood in me is what give me visions. I saw you both, in one.” She smiled shyly at Aven. “I did not see you.”
“I’m nothing special,” Aven answered, and Aria blushed again. “Go on.”
“I had other visions. And one in particular came several times over the years. I saw...” She shook her head. “I will not say what I saw. But after the last time, my mother took me from our flock and we left our aerie. We went to the Temple—”
“You went where?” Jehan interrupted.
“We went to the Temple at the Mother’s Womb,” Aria said. “We flew in under cover of darkness. No one saw us. Mother took me to the Crypt—”
“Jehan,” Aleia interrupted. “Go get it.”
Jehan stood without speaking and disappeared into the darkness. He came back a few minutes later carrying the chest that Aven had found in the hold.
“This holds what I think it holds, doesn’t it?” he asked, his voice harsh.
Aria didn’t answer. No one spoke, until finally the silence grew too much for Aven. “Fa? What’s in there?”
Jehan looked at Aleia, then set the chest down. He drew his knife, and smashed the hilt against the lock until it shattered. Aven shifted around so that he could see inside when the lid flipped open.
Inside the chest was a diadem, and four ornately carved stones — one clear, one brown and gold, one shades of blue mingled with white, and one all reds and oranges. The brown and blue ones Aven knew. Had known his entire life.
Jehan sat down, his eyes never leaving the contents of the chest. “Mother of us all,” he murmured. “I never thought I’d see this again. And... what happened then?”
“When we left the Temple, we were seen. They came for us, and Mother tried to divert them. She told me to go back to our flock, and to take the diadem and the gems.” She paused, and her voice was strained when she continued. “I didn’t get far. They had nets. They brought me down. Mother tried to save me, but—” She stopped, and Aven could see tears on her face. “They were bringing me to Mannon. I don’t know why they didn’t kill me outright. But by now, he surely knows that there’s a true Heir to the Firstborn in the world again.”
“The only way he’d know is if someone survived that ship,” Aleia said. “Which means there’s a chance he doesn’t know. Not after that storm.”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now,” Aria said. “I haven’t had a vision since the one that sent us to the Temple. I don’t know what my next step is supposed to be.” She looked down at the chest, and its contents. For a moment, she looked puzzled. She looked up, briefly, then back down. It was, Aven thought, as if she was having a silent conversation with someone. She turned the chest toward her, took something out, and closed the chest before getting to her feet. Her right hand was clasped around something, but Aven could see the cord hanging down as she walked toward him
No.
He stumbled to his feet, knowing that he could not be sitting when she reached him. He was taller than she was, and loomed over her as she stopped, so close that they were almost touching. She held her hand out, her palm to the sky, the sea-blue gem shining against her skin.
“This is yours,” she said softly. “If you’ll have it. If you’ll stand by me.” She paused, took a breath. “Stand with me, as Abin stood by Axia. Be my Companion.”