Wings In A Wounded Sky E-Book

Kathryn Rossati

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

While orphaned Ogg, Rae, dreams of being able to socialise with humans, she doesn't expect to be welcomed into the home of two complete strangers. When she learns they're from another land and have no idea that humans are supposed to fear and hate Oggs, she begins to settle down and count them as family.

But when the mysterious phenomena that brought them there - great gashes in the sky that cause dramatic shifts within Culmina's landscape - suddenly get more frequent, the situation soon threatens Rae's new-found way of life. Discovering that the cause is the war between the Fae and the Dragon-people, who live on floating cities high above the clouds, she vows to put an end to it to save those she loves.

To do so, she must team up with the sassy ninth princess of the dragon-people, the down-trodden third prince of the Fae, and Max, a fellow orphan and hot-air balloon enthusiast. But when prejudice runs high and time is running out, can she get them to work together?

Leseprobe

WINGS IN A WOUNDED SKY

KATHRYN ROSSATI

Copyright (C) 2022 Kathryn Rossati

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2022 by Next Chapter

Published 2022 by Next Chapter

Edited by Terry Hughes

Cover art by CoverMint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author’s permission.

CONTENTS

1. The Perils of Foraging

2. The Rosycheeks

3. Water Nymphs

4. The Gashes

5. Into Town

6. The Balloon

7. Vanishing Act

8. Sand in the Wind

9. Shelves and Shelves and Shelves

10. How It Happened

11. Hijacked

12. Star Fall

13. The Council of Sparrows

14. The City of Breath

15. Steam and Statues

16. The King and the Spirits

17. A Fury of Dragons

18. The Beginning of the End

19. Family

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About the Author

For Nan R,

thanks for giving me that book on types of fairies.

It helped, a lot.

1

THE PERILS OF FORAGING

Licking her dry lips, Rae stood on her tiptoes to reach the chera plant’s wide, curling leaves. She tilted one down, unfurling the rim, and let the dew pooled at its centre drip on to her tongue. Its delicious coolness not only quenched her thirst, but also quieted her galloping pulse. Satisfied, and making sure she’d left a few drops for the hand-sized Pix folk who journeyed through the forest on their way home for the summer, she let the leaf bounce back to its normal position.

The snap of a twig somewhere to her right earned a twitch from her oversized ears. She stiffened, then dipped to retrieve the bag of mushrooms and roots she’d dropped at her feet. Tightening her grip, she turned.

A hunched she-Ogg with watery eyes stood watching, grey skin wrinkled with age and bat-like ears full of white hair to match the tangles hanging around her face. A sketch Rae had once been shown of her grandmother flashed into her mind. This she-Ogg was nearly identical. It’d never been this convincing before.

“You must be lonely foraging here all alone,” the she-Ogg said. “Why not sit with an old Ogg and share breakfast?”

“There aren’t any other real Oggs living this far south – that’s why my parents chose it,” Rae said, using all her energy to keep alert. She couldn’t let it know how tired she was from sprinting so far; who knew what tricks it would get up to if it did? “You’ll have to try something else.”

The she-Ogg let out a cackle, a noise that no true Ogg would ever make and, with a sharp “crack”, transformed into a short creature covered in wild fur.

“We’ll let you keep your mushrooms for yourself this time, little Oggling,” the brag laughed. “But only because you outran my friends before this. Be ready for next time, though.” The trees around it rustled and joined in with its gleeful hooting, revealing the other hobgoblins working with it. She should have known they’d band together if they couldn’t trick her individually. Then they all snapped their fingers, causing a cloud of smoke to appear, and vanished.

Rae kept her eyes trained on the bushes beyond for another few minutes until she was sure they were really gone. She could hear them guffawing still, but it was from a good distance away and growing fainter. Letting out a deep sigh, she leaned against the chera plant and ran a hand through her cropped black hair. With luck they’d leave her alone for a while now, and at least she wasn’t falling for their tricks as much as she had last month. The smell of her gatherings wafted up from the bag and her stomach growled, overriding her momentary sense of pride. Breakfast was long overdue.

Scanning her surroundings in more detail, she discovered she was much closer to her nest-hole than she’d thought, and she set off tracking her way with thoughts of fried mushrooms and boiled roots filling her mind.

She came to a stop in front of her parents’ nest-hole, only a few metres from her own. The familiar tree roots at its entrance were covered in rot-shrooms, marking the nest-hole unsafe. They’d been growing there for two moons already. But until they were gone, Rae couldn’t enter to retrieve all the precious things her parents had left behind. The centaur healer she’d sent for to tend them had been very firm about that – the spores that caused the sickness could linger for a year or more. Best to stay away completely.

The ache in her chest from how much she missed them hadn’t dulled for a moment in those two long months; she supposed waiting for a few more couldn’t make it any worse.

Turning away, she headed to her own hole, trying to ignore how the fresh scent of its turned earth revealed its newness. She pushed aside the fern tendrils at its mouth and lowered herself down into the gloom within. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dark, her vision every bit as sharp as it was above ground.

She took her bag over to the two frost stones at the far wall and emptied its contents on them to keep them cool while she worked. Next, she took a tall stick resting by the fireplace and carefully removed the chimney cover, pleased that she’d remembered, as it was usually an afterthought when her nest-hole had become so smoky that she couldn’t breathe.

Dry logs were stacked neatly beside the hearth, just as her father had done and, selecting two from the top, she added them to the remains of the last fire and lit them with a strike of flint. The fire grew to a comforting crackle and, satisfied it was ready, she filled the pot hanging above it with water from her reserves then set it to boil as she washed and chopped the roots ready to add in. For the mushrooms, she left them whole and put them in a pan with the oil from her favourite seeds, watching them sizzle until they were tender.

It was a lot of work for a few morsels, she knew that, but it was as close to her mother’s cooking as she could get, and she had no intention of forgetting everything she’d been taught. It didn’t matter that no other Oggs lived this way, choosing instead to eat their food raw, and certainly not settling for vegetation when there was unsuspecting prey to be had. It’d been their way, and now it was hers.

After she’d eaten and put out the fire, she took some of the coal and spent a few hours adding to the portrait she’d spent the weeks working on. It wasn’t very good, and smudges from where she’d gone wrong and had to rub some out covered most of it, but it was starting to resemble her father more and more. When it was done, she’d start on her mother’s – if, by then, she hadn’t forgotten what the beautiful she-Ogg looked like.

The coal slipped from her hand as she was drawing in part of his beard and rolled over to the bundle of crimson eneegy roots at the foot of her moss bed. Her face blanched. She’d been so busy getting used to foraging on her own that they’d slipped her mind completely. It sent a shiver up her spine as the words her parents had said when they’d given them to her two winters ago echoed in her head.

“You’re getting older now, Rae, and it’s time you had your own. If the craving comes to you, these roots will subdue it. Eat one as soon as you feel it coming, and its effects will last for a full week.”

“What if it doesn’t work? I don’t want to end up eating people like other Oggs do. But what’ll I do if I can’t control myself?” she’d asked, clinging to them both.

“Sweetling, your father and I have been eating eneegy roots ever since we were old enough to gather our own food. They’ve never failed us, not once.”

Rae picked up her coal and studied the roots. She didn’t want to become a monster who preyed on innocent travellers; she didn’t want to hurt anything at all. But if the craving did come, then these were her only protection against it.

Knowing that, it was a wonder that any of the forest folk spoke to her. She thought it was largely to do with how well her parents had treated everyone. They’d proved that Oggs could be more than their history dictated, and had regularly helped others out in times of need.

The humans had never trusted them, though, and Rae couldn’t blame them. Why take the risk when there were frequent reports of their kind going missing in the Wayward Mountains where the Northern Ogg clan – her parents’ clan, before they’d left – still roamed?

The day wore on and Rae grew restless. Moreover, she was getting hungry again and needed to gather more food.

Emerging from her nest-hole, she sniffed the evening air. It had the heady smell of damp leaf litter and fragrant leaves, the kind that only give off their scent after a light downpour. Underlying it all was the distinctive whiff of chester-nuts. They weren’t close, but it wouldn’t be hard to find them. They were practically calling for her to pick them.

Within an hour she’d hunted them down, filling her bag until it was bursting. Mouth watering, she was about to return home when a tremendous crack rattled her ears. She dropped the bag to clap her hands against them and ease the ringing, but the sound stopped as fast as it had begun.

Where had it come from?

Climbing the nearest tree as soon as her ears stopped hurting, she inspected the area to see if the ground had fallen in anywhere. Yet it all appeared normal. Only when she happened to glance up at the sky did she see it – an enormous angry gash streaking above part of the forest and in the centre of it was…

Rae rubbed her eyes with one hand, the other still clinging to the tree. There was another forest visible in the sky. Similar to the one surrounding her, but the trees were different. She didn’t think she could name any of them.

The gash shimmered as she looked on, and closed up slowly, threads of sky zigzagging across it as if it were trying to sew itself shut. When it closed fully, Rae climbed back down, puzzled by what she had seen. After a moment, another sound filled her ears.

Crying.

She concentrated, wondering if someone was in trouble. It didn’t sound far away – but what if it was a brag or other hobgoblin playing tricks on her again? They’d said to be ready for their next attempt to catch her out, and even though they usually left it a few days between, that didn’t mean they always would.

What should she do? The crying wasn’t high pitched, like an infant, but more the sobs of someone grieving. If it was, what help would she be? She could barely hold her own grief in.

A particularly loud sob echoed through the trees and, without meaning to, she took a step towards it. Her gut was pushing her to go, to give comfort if she could. No one deserved to grieve alone.

The crying seemed to be coming from the same direction she needed to head in anyway, so it wouldn’t be much of a detour, and if she stored her food away first, then she wouldn’t have to worry about it being stolen if it did turn out to be hobgoblins.

She carried on, with more determination in her footing, and arrived at her nest-hole. She nipped inside, quickly storing the chester-nuts on the frost stones, then scrambled back out and went on her way.

The crying became clearer as she wriggled through the dense undergrowth, signalling how close she was. Ducking under the outstretched limbs of a giant asheen tree, she found the broken trunk of a nearly-mature sapling. Behind it, covered in black cloth stitched with luminous white thread in a curious, linear pattern, was a human girl a year or two younger than herself.

A twig shattered under Rae’s feet, and the girl’s head snapped up with a hopeful gaze. Yet when she saw Rae, she let out a howl of absolute despair.

“Please don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you,” Rae said soothingly, holding up her hands in a gesture of peace. Whether the girl was scared at seeing an Ogg so near or if she was disappointed because she’d been expecting someone else, Rae couldn’t quite tell.

She’d never been this close to a human before. She examined her carefully, taking in her black hair and bark-coloured skin. Then she saw the small point to the girl’s ears, and, realising that she was being examined the same way, saw her reflection staring back at her in vibrant orange eyes. There was also a soft tang of smoke radiating from the girl’s skin. Rae gasped.

The girl wasn’t human at all. She was one of the Drengin – dragon-people – whom Rae had heard of only in stories.

“What… are you doing here?” she blurted. “Why aren’t you up in the City of Clouds with the rest of your people?”

The girl straightened, her orange eyes narrowing with sudden hardness. “Why are you wandering around on your own? I thought human young didn’t go into woods like these without their adults,” she countered with a sneer.

Rae stepped back, momentarily speechless. “I’m not a-a human,” she stammered, overwhelmed by the girl’s imperious tone. “I’m an Ogg. Can’t… can’t you tell?”

“No. I’ve never seen a human. Or an Ogg. Just faded illustrations. Besides, you don’t look dangerous, like Oggs are supposed to be.” The girl got up, adjusting the cloth that hung around her so that it covered her better against the chill evening air. “And you still didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine, either,” Rae said, part of her confidence returning as she recovered from her surprise. “Why were you crying? Why are you even here at all?”

The girl turned away in a huff, and Rae thought she wouldn’t get any answers. But then the girl let out a huge sniff. “My parents fell from the city when that loud noise cracked the sky during their evening flight. I was with them, but they were captured by the Fae. They didn’t notice me clinging to Mother’s tail, so she used the last of her strength to fling me into these trees as they took her away.”

Rae studied the sky, where there wasn’t a hint of the gash left and, more importantly, no trace of Fae or Drengin. “I don’t understand. How can Drengin fall? You can simply transform and fly, can’t you?”

“I don’t know! All I know is that the Fae did something, and my parents couldn’t fly any more! Now go away.”

Rae thought about going. The girl might be upset, but that was no reason to be rude, even if she was younger. It was certainly no way to act towards someone who was trying to help, Rae was sure of that. But something made her stay. Maybe it was the idea that this girl was now just like her.

What was that it the humans would call them? Orphans?

“I can’t leave you here,” she said finally, giving in to her instinct. “I should take you somewhere safe.”

Wherever that might be. She paused, ignoring the girl’s glower. If she had mistaken the girl for a human at first, then perhaps a real human would, too. Rae doubted they even remembered the tales of the Drengin, so all the girl might have to do would be to hide her ears. Her eyes wouldn’t matter, humans had many different eye colours, she could simply say she was from a faraway land. As long as she didn’t transform, which Rae doubted she was old enough to do yet anyway, she’d be safe.

If only Rae herself could live with them, perhaps she wouldn’t always feel so lonely. Perhaps her hurt would start to go away. But that was too much to hope for. One look at her, and they’d chase her away… or worse.

“I’ve got an idea,” she said to the girl. “The humans have a village not far from here. You look enough like their kind to make them think you’re one of them, at least for now. What do you say?”

The girl stared at her incredulously. “Why would I want to live with them? They’re all stupid,” she said flatly.

“You’ll be safe there. Not like here. There’re hobgoblins and brags to worry about. Sometimes even the centaurs are mean.”

“You seem to be fine. Why shouldn’t I be?”

Rae bit her lip, thinking of something to convince the girl that she had to leave if she wanted to stay safe, but then a deep, gravelly roar echoed through the trees. The girl screamed and cowered against the tree trunk. Perfect! Rae thought.

“Hear that?” she said. “That’s a tree troll. They’re tall, nasty people with fangs and claws. You wouldn’t last a second against one.”

Of course, it was a complete lie. There weren’t any tree trolls left in the forest, the centaurs had driven them out winters ago. The noise was more likely the hobgoblins trying to scare some other poor soul who’d stumbled across them. But her words had the desired effect on the girl.

“Okay, I’ll go to the village. Show me the way, quickly, before that thing gets here.”

Rae smiled and took the girl’s arm, leading her away from the hobgoblin’s haunt, where her sharp ears caught the faint sound of laughing. Sometimes their pranks could be useful, it seemed.

The walk to the village was longer than Rae remembered, though she knew she’d taken several wrong turnings early on that had them walking in circles. She blamed her empty stomach. She could have stuffed herself full of chester-nuts by now and be curled up on her bed roll. The girl hadn’t noticed, she was too afraid that the troll would catch them to be aware of where they had and hadn’t been.

At this speed, night would be upon them, and then there really would be creatures roaming around that they needed to worry about. Should they return to her nest-hole and try again in the morning?

No, they’d already walked too far. Going back would only increase their chances of running into trouble. The sensible thing to do was to dig out a make-shift hole somewhere.

“Why have we stopped?” the girl whispered as Rae crouched down to test the ground with her sharp nails.

The soil was soft and loamy, it wouldn’t be hard to shovel it out. And was that a glycer berry bush over there? In answer, Rae’s stomach growled. “It’s getting late, and the forest is even more dangerous at night. I’m going to make us a shelter so we can hide. You can help by picking some berries from that bush there while I work.”

“I thought you said the village was close. What if that tree troll finds us here?”

“We’ll be fine as long as we’re quiet,” Rae said. The girl was shivering, the moonlight making her appear small and frail. Rae realised she didn’t know her name.

“It’s Silver,” the girl replied quietly when she asked. “Are you sure we can’t keep moving?”

Rae nodded and set to task.

The ground was easy to work with. She scraped away entire clumps, then burrowed her way downwards like a rabbit. Patting down the walls to make it secure after she’d widened it enough for them both to fit, she poked her head above ground and called Silver over. The Drengin came rushing, a bundle of ripe berries in her arms.

“This is your idea of a shelter?” she said, eyeing it with distaste. “I’m not some wild animal, you know. That hole’s filthy.”

Rae was about to tell her that Oggs always slept in nest-holes like this and remained perfectly clean, but thought better of it. She wanted a good night’s sleep, and arguing before bed would put her in a bad mood and keep her up all night.

“If you don’t like it, you can sleep outside,” she said instead.

Silver glanced around nervously as a sharp gust of wind shook the trees. “I suppose I can put up with it for a little while.” She hopped into the hole and crawled along to the sleeping space while Rae covered the entrance with leaves.

2

THE ROSYCHEEKS

Woken by the dewy scent of dawn, Rae shook herself and attempted to rouse Silver. The Drengin had been moaning in her sleep all night, clutching the cloth she carried tightly about her, and had only settled in the last few hours.

“Is it time already?” she said with a yawn, responding to Rae’s gentle shake.

“Yes. I’m going to find us some breakfast. Come out when you’re ready.”

Crawling out of the hole, Rae stretched as she took in the glints of sunlight reflecting off the wet leaves. The glycer berry bush was bare thanks to Silver’s greedy fingers, but at least they hadn’t slept on empty stomachs.

Rae sniffed around for other tasty morsels and found a tree surrounded by dendylyon weeds. She dug some up, discarding the main plant in favour of the roots, and took them back to Silver, who had just emerged. Silver gave them one look and turned her nose up. “I can’t eat those – they’re raw.”

“I don’t like them raw, either, but all my cooking pots are at home. If you don’t want them, you’ll have to go hungry.”

“Then I will,” Silver replied sulkily, crossing her arms and going to skulk about the area.

Rae shrugged and sat down to eat. The raw roots tasted vile, but at least she would have energy for the rest of their walk.

“Ah, get away, get away!”

Turning sharply, Rae saw Silver standing by a chera plant and violently swatting the air. She jumped up and ran over. “Stop flailing like that, you’ll hurt them,” she said, grasping Silver’s arms and pinning them to her sides.

The tiny Pix folk who had been swarming around her landed on the plant’s wide leaves and waved their fists, muttering angrily. Rae’d only met the Pix properly once before when they’d stopped to speak with her mother. They’d been terribly polite and complimented the slate-grey shade of Rae’s eyes, which matched their skin. What had Silver done to make them so upset?

“I was trying to have a drink when they dived at me,” Silver said, shooting them a hateful look.

Rae leaned closer to the Pix to hear their soft voices. “That’s not what they say,” she said after a second. “They’ve just told me you saw them landing on these leaves to drink and then pushed them away so you could have the water to yourself.”

“Well, they should learn to share,” Silver shot back.

“Maybe you should learn to wait your turn,” Rae commented. She turned back to the Pix. “I’m very sorry, she doesn’t understand how the forest works. Would you like me to help you find some more?”

The Pix shook their heads and took to the air, flying off into the distance. She sighed. “Come on, Silver. We’d better set off.”

Silver was silent as they left their shelter behind. Rae didn’t mind. It gave her time to observe the trees to make sure they were going the right way. The further they went, the less dense the forest became, and the humidity in the air dropped to be replaced by a crisp freshness.

Narrow phuur trees began to appear and so did wide, large leafed okkes; they were almost there. She was about to announce it to Silver when they heard voices close by. Peering through a clump of ferns, Rae saw a thatched cottage with whitewashed stone walls just ahead.

Odd. She’d never heard of humans living in the forest before. She studied the area around the cottage, trying to find the source of the voices. There were two, and it sounded like they were having some sort of argument.

“Oh, come on, Cadence! It’s obvious that these aren’t our woods. Look at that tree. Just look at it. Is it like anything you recognise?”

It was a woman speaking, with curly brown hair and dark skin. She was standing by a striped Winnow tree, next to another woman with straight hair and slightly lighter skin, like a chester-nut, who was staring at the tree dubiously. Both wore plain cloth dresses and boots, with a white garment tied around their waist that Rae vaguely recalled was called a pinafore.

“It might simply be a new species,” Cadence said. “You know new species are being discovered all the time, Beatrice.”

“They don’t spring up overnight, though! I was out here only last evening, and it wasn’t here then.”

Beside Rae, Silver let out a giggle. Rae shushed her with a finger to her lips, but it was too late. The women had already heard.

“If someone’s there, please come out. We’re not quite sure what’s going on, and we’d be grateful for any assistance,” Cadence said, tucking a strand of her straight hair behind her ear. Beatrice whispered something to her waspishly, but she shook her head.

Before Rae could stop her, Silver pushed through the ferns concealing them and walked over. “Why, it’s a young girl,” Beatrice said, the surprise clear in her voice. “Are you… on your own out here?”

“No,” Silver piped sweetly, so different from before that Rae found herself scowling. “I’m with a friend.” She glanced back at the clump of ferns, and the women followed her gaze.

With sudden horror, Rae realised that she’d have to reveal herself to humans. Adult humans.

“Come on, dear, don’t be shy,” Cadence called when Rae didn’t move.

Stiffly, as though the very roots of the plants around her were gripping her feet, Rae walked through the ferns, trembling as the two humans laid eyes on her. She caught their gazes hovering over her face and ears, brows creasing ever so softly, and then down to her bare feet. They frowned openly.

“Now that won’t do, my lamb,” Cadence said, beckoning her closer. “You can’t go wandering out and about in the woods with bare feet. Who knows what sharp or dirty things you might step on?”

Rae was dumbstruck. The thing they were most concerned about was her bare feet? What about the fear that she might attack them? Didn’t they recognise her for what she was?

“It’s how I’ve always walked about the forest. Oggs don’t wear shoes like humans. Our feet are hardy enough without them,” she said, at last finding her voice.

“Oggs, my dear?” Beatrice said, stepping forwards. “Whatever is an Ogg?” She glanced at Cadence, who looked as confused as she was.

“I’m an Ogg,” Rae said. They blinked at her, mystified, so she tried to expand. “I think once, a long time ago, you humans used to refer to us as…” She hesitated, fighting for the word in her mind. “Ogres.”

Cadence gave her a concerned look. “An ogre? Whoever told you that such a charming young girl as yourself resembled an ogre? Was it some nasty, spiteful child?” She went over to Rae and knelt down, taking both her hands.

Rae flinched, but the woman’s palms were soft and warm, like her mother’s had been. “No. No one called me that. That’s what I am. An Ogg, descended from ogres like all the rest. I live in this forest.”

Cadence let out a tinkling laugh. “Now don’t be silly, lamb. Ogres are made-up creatures. Tales told to scare people, that’s all. They’re not real.”

How was this possible? These humans really didn’t have any idea what she was talking about.