Fran Wilde - Updraft

She thought the same thing I did.

These skymouths could have come from the pens in the Spire.

The monsters hovered, waiting for something. Waiting for their masters. Flying low.

“Nat said something, during his challenge,” I whispered to her as fast as I could. “He said Singers would send a skymouth to kill him if he conceded.”

“That’s mad!” Sellis said.

“What if it isn’t?”

We both fell silent.

“If it isn’t,” Sellis said finally, “then there’s a reason. There’s a mystery we do not know yet.” Her voice was firm. “This is a Singer matter. If we’d needed to know more, we would have been warned. If we hadn’t lingered, we wouldn’t have been caught up in this.” Time to go back to the Spire like proper Singers.

I would not obey, not here. Only a few Singers could guide skymouths. Wik might be there. But they were too close to Densira. My first tower. My family.

“We must do something to chase them away,” I said.

Sellis frowned and shook her head. “We must not interfere.”

My frustration caused me to wobble out of the draft. Focus, Kirit. I hissed at myself. Managed to find a weaker gust. Sellis coasted above me, circling away from the path of the slow-moving skymouths.

All I could hear was Nat’s voice. Send a skymouth. Was that possible? Would we do that?

Sellis interrupted my thoughts. “The council talked about crowding after the challenge. During initiation.”

So she’d been listening too.

“They were. Go on.”

She didn’t.

A herding call from one of the Singers drifted back to us on the wind. The verbal nudging of “away” and “here” that Wik had taught me for use in the pens. With a sinking feeling, I knew that Wik was one of the Singers flying with the skymouths. And they were guiding a migration towards Densira.

Finally, Sellis spoke again. “It is for the good of the city, Kirit. Whatever they do.” She was quiet for a moment. “We should offer assistance.”

Pieces fell into place in my mind. Things Civik had said. And Wik. Then something Tobiat had said, long ago.

Terrin had wanted to work with the towers. He didn’t have enough support to change the council’s direction on this. Cages. Delequerriat. Singers did their best for the city.

Too many skymouths in the pens for just bridges and training. Too many.

“Sellis! This is what Terrin challenged for. He wanted to change something. This!” I felt sick as I realized what this was. Another way to control the towers instead of working with them.

Sellis shook her head. “We aren’t in the Spire, Kirit. We cannot argue a decision here. Challenge, if you want. See whether you share Terrin’s fate.”

Some Singers and windbeaters had supported Terrin. Others had fought before him. Naton, once he realized why he was building the pens. Tobiat. Nat, even though he hadn’t realized what he was doing.

If there was dissent within the Spire, there could be dissent outside of it too.

I signaled to Sellis that I would not follow. Someone needed to warn the tower. To warn those on the lowest tiers especially, for they were most at risk. Elna. Ezarit. The salvagers. Tobiat.

Sellis broke from my side to fly behind the Singers. Perhaps to witness what they did.

I tried to think, keeping to my circuit. Witnessing was not enough. I had to try to help, to change their path.

But how could I interfere besides throwing myself between the skymouths and Densira?

If these were Spire skymouths, they might recognize me and turn faster from their attack. Then again, they were being goaded by more skilled Singers. They might not listen to me. Or hear me at all.

And if the Singers turned them towards me? Could I stop them? I could be devoured, or I could fall from the sky like a stone if a tentacle struck me.

If I did not die here, would the Spire throw me down? Or would I become Kirit Notower again? Worse than Lawsbreaker. I would be outside the city, apart from it.

The skymouths were moving again, circling Mondarath on Densira’s near side.

The Singers signaled. Sound struck my ears: Forward . They were on the hunt.

A bat chased insects on an opposing air current to my glide. It darted fast on a tangential gust that carried it direct to the top of Densira.

I followed it. Once the Singers saw me, no one would doubt my intent.

But the Nightwing Singers dove, followed by Sellis’s bright day wings. They were not headed up the tower’s height, to attack from above as dawn broke. Instead, they circled closer to Elna’s tier.

I dove lower, echoing.

Elna emerged on her balcony, feeling her way among the few vegetables she’d grown. It didn’t matter to her that it was not yet light.

One skymouth, a small adult, saw her and began a slow turn.

“No,” I said.

Sellis spotted me and hissed. Tried to block my path with hers. She missed as I dodged down and away, echoing to see better in the dark.

Nat’s mother, my Elna, turned at the sound of wings passing close in the dark. At the sound of my clicks.

“Who is there?” she said. “Tobiat?” The hope in her voice broke my heart.

We dove past too quickly, and I had to turn again to reach her. Sellis, flying by my right pinion, tried to entangle me as I banked right, then up, then down. The tower was too close on my left.

Trapped. She had trapped me as she’d done in Gyre practice. I cast about.

Down, then.

I dove.

Sellis followed, hard on my heels. I tightened my grips, raked my wings back.

I twisted until I was in a searing dive, the dive that Macal had dared me to do at my wingtest. This dive ended in a sharp parabola before I plunged into the clouds.

Just as before, the airflow at the cloudtop was enough to power a climb. I pushed hard into it, using my grips to control curvature and angle. The battens tightened and formed new angles and arcs. It was glorious, all this speed. And now I controlled it with a Singer’s precision.

I stretched my fingers painfully into the curve and shot upwards, faster than I’d fallen, headed straight for Densira and the skymouth that was opening itself up, a red tear in the sky that Elna could not see. She turned her head this way and that, trying to hear who startled her.

I drew in breath, preparing.

She could not see the danger, even as a mouth opened wide, then wider still, and neared her tier.

I slowed enough to pass between her and the skymouth, and I began to shout the monster down.

The sound of my scream echoed against the inside of my skull. It bounced off the tower. I breathed in through my nose and let more sound out of my mouth. As Wik had taught me, I supported everything from deep in my stomach and pushed out, so the very air shook with the noise.

I tried to make a shield over Elna with my scream. To push the monster away with my voice. The sound expanded and spread. The skymouth slowed. Elna stood openmouthed, stunned. I dove through the sound of my own voice and flew down, hoping the predator would follow.

I heard Wik shout a warning from the back of the group. The Singer in the lead was cursing my name.

Then I was through my wave of sound, and I could not hear behind me.

I knew Sellis would draw her ceremonial knife and come for me, but would the rest of them follow? Would the skymouths?

Looking back, I saw Sellis flying just above the skymouth that trailed me closely. Sellis’s knife glinted in the moonlight.

I led both Sellis and the skymouth away from Densira. The night breezes were strong, and we moved fast on them, far from the tower that was my home.

I did not care what happened now. Singers could take me and throw me down. Elna would live to see Allsuns and bid Nat a real good-bye.