A Call for Brighter Days: Aeriel Trilogy #2

Ruban rinsed out the last saucepan and reached for the dishrag hanging from a hook beside the faucet, languidly wiping off the suds that still covered his forearms. The sounds of Hiya tinkering with her model airplanes floated in from the sitting room, bringing with them a strange comfort. Soon, he’d be wrestling with her, trying to get her to turn in for the night. The girl slept like a log as soon as she hit the mattress but never went down without a fight. For now, he allowed himself to enjoy the stolen peace, a smile tugging at his lips.

A rush of flapping wings…

Ruban barely had the time to reach for the sharp-edged disc in his pocket and the blade beside the sink, before the curtained casement windows flew open and a blur of silver shot into the kitchen. Instinct drove Ruban to throw the sif-lined disc at the intruder, tighten his grip on the sifblade, and launch himself forward.

His prey moved swiftly to avoid the small but lethal weapon flying at its throat.

Ruban raised his arm, ready to strike. The Aeriel stepped lithely to the side, throwing its upper-body backward to avoid the blade even as it kicked Ruban’s feet from under him. Ruban twisted mid-fall, using the momentum to bring the sifblade in an arc to pierce the Aeriel’s throat.

“Ashwin!” Hiya’s gleeful voice rang out from the kitchen door.

The Aeriel’s wings twitched and it dropped gracefully to its knee. Once its neck was safely out of the path of the oncoming sifblade, it grabbed Ruban by the collar to keep him from face-planting unceremoniously on the kitchen floor.

It was at this moment that Hiya launched herself at them, and all three of them ended up sprawled on the glossy linoleum flooring.

“How many times have I told you to use the front fucking door?” Ruban growled, struggling to dislodge a laughing Hiya from his chest.

“I was in a hurry,” Ashwin shrugged, springing to his feet before scooping Hiya playfully into his arms. “I have news.”

“News that couldn’t have waited the ten seconds it’d have taken you to ring the doorbell instead of trashing my kitchen?” Ruban scrambled to his feet and sheathed the sifblade with some reluctance.

“Your kitchen’s fine. Not like you’re the one who uses it, anyway. Don’t be so dramatic.” Ashwin’s tone suggested he was forcing himself not to roll his eyes. He reached out carefully to dislodge the sif-lined disc that had embedded itself into the plywood cabinet above the stove. “Nice! What’re they calling this?”

“Sifkren.” Ruban plucked the small disc lined with tiny, sharp blades out of Ashwin’s hand. “SifCo. developed it, under orders from the IAW, after all the trouble with Tauheen last year. They needed something to show the media, now that the release of the enhanced sifblade has been delayed.”

“Speaking of enhanced sif,” Ashwin set a wriggling Hiya down as his wings dissolved into the ether. When he straightened, only his pearly eyes distinguished him from a human. “I was attacked. Again. For the third time in a single week.”

Ruban tensed. “The mafia?”

“Who else? And this time, they had some reinforced sif to go along with the usual homicidal bloodlust.”

“Reinforced sifblades?”

“Of course not.” Ashwin waved a hand. “Just the ores. Still, I thought we got the last of Tauheen’s stock in Ibanborah. But if the feather mafia’s managed to get their hands on reinforced sif–”

“They’re using it to brand them,” Ruban blurted, looking away. “Their…ah. Kills.”

Ashwin frowned. “And you’ve known this…how long?”

“Less than a week. I’d no idea the last time I saw you.” Ruban didn’t know why he was feeling defensive. He busied himself cleaning up the dislodged cutlery and sweeping away the broken glassware. “The IAW didn’t want the media to catch wind of it, so they kept it under wraps as long as they could. The only people who knew were the ones who absolutely had to.

“They’re not all doing it, anyway. The smaller gangs can’t afford to. They don’t have enough reinforced sif to waste it on branding dead Aeriels after cutting their wings off. From what we can tell, the Qawirsin started it. Caught on pretty quickly. A morbid way for the bigger gangs to compete; mark their kills and flaunt their successes.”

“What for?” Ashwin’s voice was strained.

Ruban shrugged, gathering up the jagged pieces of broken crockery and dumping them into the bin. “Vanity, probably. A bragging tactic. They say Janak Nath has a flair for the dramatic. Or maybe a taste for the morbid.” He shook his head. “I prefer not to spend my time psychoanalyzing criminals.”

“Janak Nath?” Ashwin repeated, frowning.

Something in his voice made the hair on the back of Ruban’s neck stand on end. “Yes. He’s the leader of the Qawirsin, one of the bigger gangs. I told you about them last week.”

“Not about him.”

“Him?” Ruban squinted at his companion. “You mean Janak Nath? That’s because we didn’t have a name yet. Why? Do you know him?”

“No. But he knows me.”

“What?”

Ashwin shook his head. “One of the thugs that attacked me earlier this evening…he said Janak Nath was looking for me.”

“For you?” Ruban gripped the counter, his pulse quickening.

“For an Aeriel with two red marks on the wings. He seems to think the only Aeriel with those markings was – is Reivaa.”

“Janak Nath thinks Reivaa is still alive?” Ruban asked, incredulity coloring his voice.

Ashwin nodded. “And he’s actively hunting her. Or me, since he seems to think I’m her.”

“Well, did you disabuse his minion of that notion?”

“No. I killed him.”

Ruban exhaled sharply, then nodded. “And any…collateral damage?”

“Of course not.” Ashwin frowned. “You think I wouldn’t have mentioned that? I drew them out into an abandoned settlement just outside of Himli before I threw a single shell. Something I might not be able to continue, if this keeps happening.”

Ruban groaned. “The feather mafia is becoming more of a nuisance with every passing day. There was an attack in Rawaria yesterday, you might’ve heard about it. Twelve civilian casualties.”

“Did they get the Aeriel?”

“No, it escaped. Gravely wounded but alive. Or at least it was alive, last our cameras caught a glimpse of it.” He raised an eyebrow. “One of yours?”

Ashwin shook his head. “Safaa would have told me if it was. Probably one of the other factions.”

“How many are there?”

“Who knows?” Ashwin shrugged. “Once Tauheen and Reivaa died, there wasn’t anything left that was holding the Exiles together. Some of them joined the mafia, some are trying to repair relations with Vaan…through diplomacy this time.”

“And the rest?”

“And the rest remain loyal to Tauheen and her vision. Establish dominion over earth and use a human army to take Vaan by force,” he sighed. “But most importantly, avenge the death of their Queen.”

Surprise elicited a laugh from Ruban. “Avenge Tauheen? How?”

“By killing you, of course.”

“Why? You’re the one who offed her.”

“I did.” Ashwin’s lips quirked into a tiny, self-satisfied smile. “But they don’t know that. The price of fame, my friend. The question is, what’re you going to do about it?”