Book 6: Chapter 48: Wings
Rano and a few of his sergeants hung around in the courtyard while Victor prepared to leave. He’d summoned Guapo, and Uvu prowled around the courtyard, well aware that something was going on. He kept sniffing the air, chuffing, and pacing near the stairs leading into Victor’s travel home. Victor figured the big cat knew Valla was awake and would emerge soon, probably alerted through their bond. While he waited for her, Victor took some time to go through the big storage rings he’d taken from Karl.The original appearance of this chapter can be found at Ñøv€lß1n.
One was full of supplies—barrels of lamp oil, timbers, iron brackets, bolts, and pins, along with the tools that would be used to put them together. When Victor showed Rano, he suggested they were for building siege equipment. Victor shook his head, bewildered. “Why wouldn’t the idiot use some of this stuff?”
Rano shrugged. “Perhaps he was overconfident in the power of his giants. Perhaps he didn’t realize you laid in wait.”
Another of the rings was filled with more disturbing things. There were dozens of sealed casks within, and when Victor took one out and hammered it open, he found it full of blood. There were huge crates stuffed with body parts, from human limbs and skin to organs. Victor grew disgusted in his perusal and handed the ring off to Rano, “Build bonfires near the sea and burn these things.”
“Aye, sir.”
In the last of the storage rings, Victor found more personal things—clothes, armor, notebooks, weapons, and myriad disgusting things that could only have been trophies or mementos. The latter ranged from fingers in velvet-lined jewelry boxes to large portions of human skin mounted to frames meant for hanging on a wall. Scanning through them, Victor didn’t find anything that interested him other than some sacks of beads numbering in the hundreds of thousands. He took those and, again, handed the ring to Rano. “You can distribute the weapons and armor as awards to those who need them, but I’d like you to destroy the disgusting trophies.”
“Trophies?”
“Yeah, I think that sick asshole kept parts of, I dunno, victims or maybe friends to display. You’ll see what I mean.”
“I’ll see it’s done, sir.” Rano was mid-salute when he suddenly gasped and took a step back, eyes on something over Victor’s shoulder. Uvu made a funny rumbling, yawning sound, and Victor knew Valla had emerged. He turned to her, face lighting up with affection. He caught his breath, much like Rano, when he saw her standing there on the stoop of his travel home, her wings partially extended, catching the morning sunlight in a spectacular shimmer of silver and soft green-blue iridescence. She was tall, powerful, and sharp-looking in her snug black uniform pants, well-shined boots, and white, tucked-in uniform shirt.
Victor had helped her to trim some holes in the backs of her shirts for her wings, and they seemed to have worked well. Midnight hung from her waist on her sword belt, and Valla had donned a shiny, silver breastplate that covered her chest and matched her helmet. To him, she looked like a Valkyrie or angel, girded for war. When she met his eyes with those spectacular silver and teal irises awash with the rich, warm sunlight, he felt he could forget everything in the world and simply stare at her. Then she smiled, and he wanted nothing more than to rush over to her, hold her, and kiss her.
Of course, Victor knew none of that would be cool with Valla, not with the soldiers gathering in the courtyard and on the ramparts to stare. Silence had fallen over the keep like a blanket; everyone was still, stunned by the appearance of a creature only vague legends alluded to. Valla wasn’t one to speak much in the best of times; she didn’t like attention focused on her, and Victor could tell this was a struggle for her. Nonetheless, she squared her shoulders and spoke into the courtyard. Her voice, while still hers, was loud and powerful, and it carried well—she’d been trained to address troops, after all.
“Soldiers, I thank you for guarding me well while I went through my bloodline evolution! As you can see, I’ve brought forth the aspect of one of my more distant ancestors—she was an Ordeni and, more than that, a proud carrier of the Rihven bloodline. Look upon me and behold the last of a people who once walked among the Shadeni and Ardeni—a people who stood up to the Ridonne and were exterminated for their trouble. Now, enough gawking! Back to your work! Guard this keep well in our absence!”
It became apparent that the soldiers weren’t sure how to react. Some cheered, some clapped, some did as she said—stopped gawking and got back to work, and some kept staring, unable to wipe the stupefaction from their faces. Victor broke the spell on Rano by walking between him and Valla, holding out his hand to take hers. “You look great.”
“Thank you, love.” She took his hand and stepped down to the cobbles where Uvu paced, rubbing his long, furry body against her as he circled with repeated, rumbling chuffs vibrating his chest. “Hi, Uvu, sweet boy,” she cooed, rubbing his head and massaging his fuzzy ears. Looking at her with the cat, Victor wasn’t so sure he’d serve very well as a mount. Valla had sort of outgrown him. He wondered if that mattered now that she had wings. Would she be able to fly further than the Ghelli? Her wings were undoubtedly much larger. He wondered how that would work—didn’t birds have hollow bones and a skeletal structure designed to support flight? He knew for a fact that Valla was no lighter than before. In fact, she was heavier . . .
“Anything else, sir?” Rano asked, finally having found his voice, interrupting Victor’s musing.
“No, I don’t think so. We’ll be off shortly.”
“In that case, I’ll make my rounds. It’s wonderful to see you, Tribune Primus.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Valla smiled, looking up from the affections she was pouring onto Uvu.
As Rano saluted and walked away, Victor asked, “What will you do about this big boy? I suppose you can still ride him, but your feet might touch the ground . . .”
“He’ll follow at his own pace. If not a mount, he’s a boon companion.” She hugged the giant cat around his neck. “Aren’t you, big soft boy?” The great cat yawned hugely, exposing six-inch fangs by way of reply.
“Yes! It was like . . . well, it was like my body knew what to do as soon as I got some wind in my feathers!” She came closer to his camp stove, sniffing the air. “Smells great!”
“Chicken vegetable soup!”
Valla folded her wings tight to her back and tried to sit on the chair, but they hung below her butt, and she couldn’t make it work. “This is absurd! How am I supposed to sit?”
“Maybe open them partially? So they hang to the sides of the chair?” He watched her frown with concentration, trying different positions and finally settling on something like what he’d suggested. “It’ll take some getting used to, huh?”
“Yes, but it’s all worth it! I never imagined the feeling I had up there! I was so free and fast! I wager I can travel as quickly as Guapo!”
“Faster, I’ll bet, once you get used to it. If you get really high and just soar on the wind, you won’t have to worry about obstacles like he does.”
“True! And they’re different from Ghelli and Naghelli wings, at least at the level we’ve seen. I know I can go higher and faster than any of them.”
“Yeah, those wings of yours are serious business. Lam and Edeya have pretty wings, but there’s no way they could keep up with you.”
“You watched me?” Valla scowled in mock outrage.
“I waited for a little while . . . well, until you were in the air, at least!”
Valla’s laugh trilled again, and Victor couldn’t help joining her. It was good to see her so happy; he could probably count the times she’d really laughed in the past on his ten fingers. The two of them sat together, enjoying each other's company, eating soup and salty, wafer-like bread for a good hour. After lunch, Valla took another flight. Then, when she returned, flushed and excited, full of tales of the things she’d seen, they sat together, just taking in the fresh air and warm sunshine. Toward mid-afternoon, Victor suggested they spar for a while so Valla could get used to her wings in such an activity.
They started off slow, moving at half intensity, practicing their forms, their attacks, and counters. They had to stop and repeat things several times as Valla kept throwing herself off balance with her wings. After a while, Victor stopped and suggested, “Why don’t you try using your wings more rather than trying to control them? Go ahead and extend them and use them like the limbs they are.”
“I’ve just been trying to hold them tight so they don’t throw me off . . .”
“Yeah, but have you ever seen birds fight? They have their wings out and use them as much as their talons or beaks.”
“Where have you watched birds fight?”
“Hah, I don’t know. Probably some internet videos.” He laughed and shook his head. “Never mind—it’s a thing from my world.”
“You’ll have to explain it to me sometime. I’d like to hear more about your world.” When Victor nodded, Valla spread her wings with a crack, and they began again. This time, she kept her wings out, flapping them to aid in her movement, and Victor found it a lot harder to close with her and deliver his attacks. Her wings were very strong, and she could use the hard, bony edge to knock him or his arm aside when she spun. He wondered at the metallic sheen to her feathers; would they continue to harden as she advanced her bloodline? Would they eventually be as good as armor?
When they decided to break for dinner, she laughed and charged him with a violent, exuberant hug. “You were right! I did much better when I stopped trying to control them, when I stopped trying to move like I did before I had them.”
Victor hugged her back, smiling. She’d been slower and a little awkward, but he could tell she was going to get stronger and stronger—her ceiling had, literally, been vastly expanded. She would be very formidable when she grew used to those wings, and their movement became second nature. “It’s good, beautiful. You’re going to be great.” As he hugged her, he set his eyes on the distant wall of eerie, green-tinted mist. Hector was waiting for him. He wondered what the pendejo was even like. “When we catch up to the cohort, let's talk to Victoria about Hector. I want to end this pinché invasion.”
She laughed and squeezed him harder. “We will. Who could stop us now?” Victor chuckled at her confidence; she was sounding almost Quinametzin. It was good, but something in him wanted to look for a piece of wood to knock his knuckles against.
