Skyborn

Book 1: Seraphim

by David Dalglish

Genres: Epic Fantasy; Action & Adventure; Coming of Age

Synopsis

The first in an all-new fantasy series from USA Today bestselling author, David Dalglish.

The last remnants of humanity live on six islands floating high above the Endless Ocean, fighting a brutal civil war in the skies. The Seraphim, elite soldiers trained for aerial combat, battle one another while wielding elements of ice, fire and lightening.

The lives of their parents claimed in combat, twins Kael and Breanna Skyborn enter the Seraphim Academy to follow in their footsteps. They will learn to harness the elements as weapons and fight at break-neck speeds while soaring high above the waters. But they must learn quickly, for a nearby island has set its hungry eyes on their home. When the invasion comes, the twins must don their wings and ready their blades to save those they love from annihilation.

Release date: November 17, 2015

Publisher: Orbit

Print pages: 464

Sample

Breanna Skyborn sat at the edge of her world, watching the clouds drift beneath her dangling feet.

“Bree?”

Kael’s voice sounded obscenely loud in the twilight quiet. She turned to see her twin brother standing at the stone barricade that marked the end of the road.

“Over here,” she said.

The barricade reached up to Kael’s waist, and after a moment’s hesitation, he climbed over, leaving behind smoothly worn cobbles for short grass and soft dirt. Beyond the barricade, there was nothing else. No buildings. No streets. No homes. Just a stretch of unused earth, and then beyond that… the edge. It was for that reason Bree loved it, and her brother hated it.

“We’re not allowed to be this close,” he said as he approached, each step smaller than the last. “If Aunt Bethy saw…”

“Aunt Bethy won’t come within twenty feet of the barricade and you know it.”

Wind blew against her, and she pulled her dark hair back from her face as she smirked at her brother. His pale skin had taken on a golden hue from the fading sunlight, the wind teasing his much shorter hair. The gust made him stop, and she worried he’d decide to leave her there.

“You’re not afraid, are you?” she asked.

That was enough to push him on. Kael joined her at the edge of their island. When he sat, he sat cross-legged, and unlike her, he did not let his legs dangle off the side.

“Just for a little while,” he said. “We should be home when the battle starts.”

Bree turned away, and she peered over the edge of the island. Below, lazily floating along, were dozens of puffy clouds painted orange by the setting sun. Through their gaps she saw the tumultuous Endless Ocean, its movement only hinted at by the faintest of dark lines. Again the wind blew, and she pretended that she rode upon it, flying just like her parents.

“So why are we out here?” Kael asked, interrupting the silence.

“I was hoping to see the stars.”

“Is that it? We’re just here to waste our time?”

Bree glared at him.

“You’ve seen the drawings in Teacher Gruden’s books. The stars are beautiful. I was hoping that out here, away from the lanterns, maybe I could see one or two before…”

She fell silent. Kael let out a sigh.

“Is that really why you’re out here?”

It wasn’t, not fully, but she didn’t feel comfortable discussing the other reason. Hours ago their mother and father had sat them down beside the fire of their home. They’d each worn the black uniforms of their island of Weshern, swords dangling from their hips, the silver wings attached to their harnesses polished to a shine.

The island of Galen won’t back down, so we have no choice, their father had said. We’ve agreed to a battle come the midnight fire. This will be the last, I promise. After this, they won’t have the heart for another.

“It is,” Bree said, wishing her half lie were more convincing. She looked to their right, where the sun was slipping beneath the horizon. Nightfall wouldn’t be long now. Kael shifted uncomfortably, and she saw him glancing behind them, as if convinced they’d be caught despite being in a secluded corner of their small town of Lowville.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll stay with you, but if we get in trouble, this was all your idea.”

“It usually is,” she said, smiling at him.

Kael settled back, sliding a bit farther away from the edge. Together they watched the sun slowly set. In its glow, they caught glimpses of two figures flying through the twilight haze, their mechanical wings shimmering gold as they hovered above a great stretch of green farmland. The men wore red robes along with their wings, easily identifying them as theotechs of Center.

“Why are they here?” Kael asked when he spotted them.

“They’re here to oversee the battle,” Bree answered. She’d spent countless nights on her father’s lap, asking him questions. What was it like to fly? Was he ever scared when they fought? Did he think she might become a member of the Seraphim like they were? Bree knew the two theotechs would bless the battle, ensure everyone followed the agreed-upon rules, and then mark the surrender of the loser. Then would come the vultures, the lowest-ranking members of the theotechs, to reclaim the treasured technology from the fallen.

The mention of the coming battle put Kael on edge, and he fell silent as he looked to the sunset. Bree couldn’t blame him for his nervousness. She felt it, too, and that was the reason she couldn’t stay home, cooped up, unable to witness the battle or know if her mother and father lived or died. No, she had to be out there. She had to have something to occupy her mind.

They said nothing as the sun neared the end of its descent. As the strength of its rays weakened, she turned her attention to the east, where the sky had faded to a deep shade of purple. The coming darkness unsettled Bree. Since the day she was born, it had come and gone, but it was rare for her to watch it. She much preferred to be at home next to the hearth, listening to her father tell Seraphim stories, or their mother reading Kael ancient tales of knights and angels. Watching the nightly shadow only made her feel… imprisoned.

It began where the light was at its absolute weakest, an inky black line on the horizon that grew like a cloud. Slowly it crawled, thick as smoke and wide as the horizon itself. The darkness swept over the sky, hiding its many colors. More and more it covered, an unceasing march matched by the sun’s fall. When it reached to the faintly visible moon, it too vanished, the pale crescent tucked away, to be hidden until the following night. Silently the twins watched as the rolling darkness passed high above their heads, blotting out everything, encasing the world in its deep shadow.

Bree turned her attention to the setting sun, which looked as if it fled in fear of the darkness complete.

“It’ll be right there,” she said, pointing. “In the moment after the sun sets and before the darkness reaches it.”

Most of the sky was gone now, and so far away from the lanterns, the two sat in a darkness so complete it was frightening. The shadow clouds continued rolling, blotting out the field of stars that the ancient drawing books made look so beautiful, so majestic and grand. But just as she’d hoped, there was a gap in the time it took the sun to vanish beyond the horizon and for the rolling shadow to reach it, and she watched with growing anticipation. She’d seen only one star before, the North Star, which shone so brightly that not even the sun could always blot it out. But the other stars, the great field… would they appear in the deepening purple?

Kael saw it before she did, and he quickly pointed. In the sliver of violet space the star winked into existence, a little drop of light between the horizon and the shadows crashing down on it like a wave. Bree saw it, and she smiled at the sight.

“Imagine not one but thousands,” Bree said as the dark clouds swallowed the star, pitching the entire city into utter darkness so deep she could not see her brother beside her. “A field spanning the entire sky, lighting up the night in their glow…”

Bree felt Kael take her hand, and she squeezed it tight. Neither dared move while so close to the edge and lacking sight. Perfectly still, they waited. It would only be a matter of time.

It started as a faint flicker of red across the eastern horizon. Slowly it grew, spreading, strengthening. Just like the shadows, so too did the fire roll across the sky, setting ablaze the inky clouds that covered the crown of the world. It burned without consuming, only shifting and twisting. It took thirty minutes, but eventually all of the sky raged with midnight fire, bathing the land in red. It’d last until daybreak, when the sun would rise, the fire would die, and the smoky remnants would hover over the morning sky until fading away.

A horn sounded from a watchtower farther within their home island of Weshern. The blast set Bree’s heart to hammering.

“They’re starting,” she whispered.

Both turned to face the field where the two theotechs hovered. The horn sounded thrice more, and come the final call, the forces of Weshern arrived. They sailed above the field in V formations, their silver wings shimmering, powered by the light element that granted all Seraphim mastery over the skies. Hundreds of men and women, dressed in black pants and jackets, armed with fire, lightning, ice, and stone that they wielded with the gauntlets of their ancient technology. Despite her fear, Bree felt an intense longing to be up there with them, fighting for the pride and safety of her home. Sadly, it’d be five years before she and her brother turned sixteen and could attempt to join.

“Bree…”

She turned her head, saw her brother staring off into the open sky beyond the edge of their island. Flying in similar V formations, gold wings glimmering, red jackets seemingly aflame from the light of the midnight fire, came the Seraphim of Galen. The two armies raced toward each other, and Bree knew they’d meet just above the fallow field, where the theotechs waited.

Bree pushed herself away from the edge of the island and rose to her feet, her brother doing likewise.

“They’ll be fine,” she said, watching the Weshern Seraphim fly in perfect formation. She wondered which of those black and silver shapes was her mother, and which her father. “You’ll see. No one’s better than they are.”

Kael stood beside her, eyes on the sky, arms locked at his sides. Bree reached for his hand, held it as the armies neared one another.

“It’ll be over quick,” she whispered. “Father says it always is.”

Dark shapes shot in both directions through the space between the armies, large chunks of stone meant to screen attacks as well as protect against retaliation. They crashed into one another, and as the sound reached Bree’s ears, the battle suddenly erupted into bewildering chaos. The Seraphim formations danced about one another, lightning flashing amid them in constant barrages. Enormous blasts of fire accompanied them, difficult to see with the sky itself aflame. Blue lances of ice, colored purple from the midnight hue, shot in rapid bursts, cutting down combatants with ease. The sounds of battle were so powerful, so near, Bree could feel them in her bones.

“How?” Kael wondered aloud, and if he weren’t so close she wouldn’t have heard him over the cacophony. “How can anyone survive through that?”

Boulders of stone slammed into the fallow field beneath, carving out long grooves of earth before coming to a stop. Bree flinched at the impact of each one. How did one survive? She didn’t know, but somehow they did, the Seraphim of both islands weaving amid the carnage with movements so fluid and beautiful they mirrored that of dancers. Not all, though. Lightning tore through chests, lances of ice with sharp tips punctured flesh and metal alike, and no armor could protect against the fire that washed over their bodies. Each Seraph who fell wearing a black jacket made Bree silently beg it wasn’t one of her parents. She didn’t care if that was selfish or not. She just wanted them safe. She wanted them to survive the overwhelming onslaught that left her mind baffled by how to take it all in.

The elements lessened, the initial devastating barrage becoming more precise, more controlled. Bree saw that several combatants were out of elements completely and forced to draw their blades. The battle had gradually spread farther and farther out, taking them beyond the grand field and closer to the edge of town where Bree and Kael stood. Not far above their heads, two Seraphim circled in a dance, one fleeing, one chasing. They both had their twin blades drawn. Bree watched, entranced, eyes wide as the circle tightened and the combatants whisked by each other again and again, slender blades swiping for exposed flesh.

It was the Galen Seraph who made the first mistake. Bree saw him fail to dodge in time, saw the tip of the sword slice across his stomach. The body fell, careening wildly just before making impact with the ground. The sound was a bloodcurdling screech of metal and snapping bone. Bree’s attention turned to the larger battle, and she saw that more had been forced to draw their blades. The number of remaining Seraphim was shockingly few, yet they fought on.

“No one’s surrendering,” Kael said, and she could hear the fear threatening to overtake him completely. “Bree, you said it’d be quick. You said it’d be quick!”

The area of battle was spreading out of control. Galen Seraphim scattered in all directions, loose formations of two to three people. The Weshern Seraphim chased, and despite nearing town, they still released their elements. Bree screamed as a pair streaked above their heads, the thrum of their wings nearly deafening. A boulder failed to connect with the fleeing Seraphim, and it blasted through the side of a home with a thundering blast.

“Let’s go!” Bree screamed, grabbing Kael’s hand and dashing toward the barricade. More Seraphim were approaching, seemingly the entire Galen forces. They wanted to be over the town, Bree realized. They wanted to make Weshern’s people hesitate to fight with so many nearby. As the twins climbed over the stone barricade, the sounds of battle erupting all about them, it was clear their Seraphim would have no such hesitation. Lightning flashed above Bree’s head, and she cried out in surprise. She ducked, stumbled, lost her grip on her brother’s hand. He stopped, shouted her name, and then the ice lance struck the cobbles ahead of them. It shattered into shards, and Kael dove to the ground as they flew in all directions.

“Kael,” Bree said as she scrambled to her feet. “Kael!”

“I’m fine,” he said, pushing himself to his hands and knees. When he looked to her, he was bleeding from several cuts across his face and neck. “I’m fine, now hurry!”

The red light of the midnight fire cast its hue across everything, convincing Bree she’d lost herself in a nightmare and awoken in one of the circles of Hell. Kael pulled her along, leading her toward Aunt Bethy’s house, where they were supposed to have stayed during the battle, waiting like good children for their parents to return. Hand in hand they ran, the air above filled with screams, echoes of thunder, and the deep hum of the Seraphims’ wings.

They turned a corner, saw two Seraphs flying straight at them from farther down the street. Fire burst from the chaser’s gauntlet. It bathed over the other, sending her crashing to the ground. Kael dove aside as Bree froze, her legs locked in place from terror. The body came to a halt mere feet away from her, silver wings mangled and broken. Her black jacket bore the blue sword of Weshern on her shoulder, and Bree shuddered at the sight of the woman’s horrible burns. High above, the Galen Seraph flew on, seeking new prey.

“Bree!” her brother shouted, pulling her attention away. He’d wedged himself in the tight space between two houses, and she joined him there in hiding.

“We have to get back,” Bree insisted. “We can’t stay here.”

“Yes, we can,” Kael said, hunkering deeper into the alley. “I’m not going out there, Bree. I’m not.”

Bree glanced back out of the narrow alley. With the battle raging above the town, Aunt Bethy would be terrified by their absence. They were already going to be in trouble for not coming in like they were supposed to in the first place. To hide now, afraid, until it all ended?

“I’m going,” she said. “Are you coming with me or not?”

Another blast of thunder above. Kael shook his head.

“No,” he said. His eyes widened when he realized she was serious about going. “Bree, don’t leave me here. Don’t leave me!”

“I can’t stay,” Bree said, the mantra overwhelming her every thought. “I can’t stay, Kael, I can’t stay!”

She dashed back into the street, racing toward Aunt Bethy’s house. As strongly as Kael wanted to remain hiding, Bree wanted to return to their aunt’s home. She wanted to be inside, in a safe place with family. Let him be a coward. She’d be brave. She’d be strong.

A boulder crashed through the rooftop of a home to her right then blasted out the front wall. Bree screamed, and she realized she wasn’t brave at all. She was frightened out of her mind. Fighting back tears, she turned down Picker Street, where both they and their aunt lived. Five houses down was her aunt’s home, and Bree’s heart took a sudden leap. Her legs moved as fast as they could carry her.

There she was. Her mother was safe, she was alive, she was…

She was bleeding. Her hand clutched her stomach, and Bree saw with horrible clarity the red gash her fingers failed to seal. She lay on her back, her silver wings pressed against the door to Aunt Bethy’s home, a dazed look on her face. Beneath her was a pool of her own blood.

“Bree,” her mother said. Her voice was wet, strained. Tears trickled from her brown eyes. “Bree, what are you… what are you doing out here?”

Bree didn’t know how to answer. She fell to her knees, felt her pants slicken from the blood. She reached out a trembling hand, wanting so badly to hold her mother, but feared what any contact might do.

“It’s all right,” her mother said, and she smiled despite her obvious pain. “Bree, it’s all right. It’s…”

Her lips grew still. She breathed in pain no more. Her hand fell limp, holding back her sliced stomach no longer. Bree touched her shoulder, shook her once.

“Mom,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Mom, no, Mom, please!”

She buried her face against her mother’s chest, shrieking out in wordless agony. She didn’t want to see any more, to hear any more. Bree wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck, clutching her tightly, not caring about the blood that seeped into her clothes. She just wanted one more embrace before the vultures came to reclaim her wings. She wanted to pretend her mother was alive and well, holding her, loving her, kissing her forehead before flying away for another day of training and drills.

Not this corpse. Not this lifeless thing.

A hand touched her shoulder. Bree pulled back, expecting to see her brother, but instead it was a tall Weshern Seraph. Blood smeared his fine black coat. To her surprise, the surrounding neighborhood was quiet, the battle seemingly over.

“Was she your mother?” the man asked. Bree could barely see his face through the shadows cast by the midnight fire. She sniffled, then nodded.

“Then you must be Breanna. I—I don’t know how else to tell you this. It’s about your father.”

His words were a dagger to an already punctured heart. It couldn’t be. The world couldn’t be that cruel.

“No,” she whispered. “No, that can’t be right.”

The Seraph swallowed hard.

“Breanna, I’m sorry.”

Bree leapt to her feet, and she flung herself at the man, screaming at the top of her lungs.

“No, it can’t. Not both, we can’t lose them both, we can’t… we can’t…”

She broke, collapsing at his feet, her tears falling upon his black boots. She beat the stone cobbles until she bled, beat them as she screamed, beat them as, high above, the midnight fire burned like an unrelenting pyre for the dead.

I keep telling you,” Jevin said as they walked the stone road to the fishing docks. “You aren’t ready.”

“But you said when we turned sixteen we’d get to go with you,” Bree insisted.

“And when is that?” Jevin asked.

“Next week.”

The deeply tanned man threw up a hand, as if that answered everything. With his other hand he carried dozens of heavy nets slung over his shoulder. Jevin was a friend of Aunt Bethy’s, and he was quick to remind Bree and Kael of how close he’d been to their father as well.

“Peas in a pod,” he’d tell them. “Until he joined the Seraphim, anyway.”

Bree had used that close relationship to guilt and charm dozens of gifts and favors out of the man, but as they passed through the gathering crowds of fishermen, she decided that connection might now be working against her.

“It’s not that long to wait,” Kael said, walking alongside her. “I’d rather practice on land a few more times anyway.”

Bree had to choke down her exasperated groan.

“Of course you would,” she said. “You’re terrible at it.”

Kael raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yes. That’s the point. I’d rather not go crashing headfirst into the ocean because I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I’m not sure crashing headfirst into dirt is any better…”

“Enough,” Jevin said, interrupting them both. “We’re not having this discussion. You want to fly, do it over the island.”

Bree had a dozen retorts ready, but she held them in, deciding it was not yet time to wage this battle. Idea growing, she obediently dipped her head and remained silent as they entered the docks. All around her were tanned men, their clothes faded brown and gray. Several long tables lined either side of the street, their surface coated with fish guts and gore as giant cleavers rose and fell, cutting off the undesirable parts as those beside them sliced with long knives, cleaning and gutting the catch of the day. The noise was one of hearty cheers, jokes, and laughter accompanied by thuds of steel and the ever-constant roar of the unseen Fount below.

But most interesting to Bree were the men at the far end, where the docks ended and the sky began. With the morning so young, most were strapping on their wings, buckling belts, and adjusting the connected gauntlet on their left hand. At their feet were dozens of nets and sharpened harpoons. The wings themselves were short and stocky, designed for lift instead of speed. Bree and Kael had practiced with a set just like them, hovering several feet above the ground while Jevin watched protectively. The whole while it drove Bree insane. It was like being a bird with clipped wings.

“Hey, Bryce,” Jevin said, approaching a hollowed-out stone block where a bearded man stood within with arms crossed. “Morning going well?”

“No one’s died, but the fish ain’t catching themselves,” Bryce said, deep voice rumbling. “So going as well as one can hope for without wishing on angels.”

The big man turned about, scanning rows of wooden shelves inside his structure, each shelf lined with the wing contraptions. He found Jevin’s, pulled it off, and handed it over.

“The switch was getting sticky, so I replaced the spring,” he said. “Best I can do before sending it off to Center for the theotechs to have a look.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Jevin said, hooking his free arm through the two leather loops that went underneath the armpits. As he stepped away, Bree put her hands on the small barrier between her and Bryce.

“Mine, too,” she said.

Bryce shot a look to Jevin, who gave a hesitant nod.

“Should start making you pay for this,” the bearded man said, leaning down beneath the front shelf and pulling up a smaller set of wings from out of view. “Light elements don’t come cheap.”

“Thank God you aren’t paying for it then,” Bree said, accepting the wings. The light element that powered the wings came from Central. Weshern’s Archon then allocated a set amount each month to training new fishermen.

“Rate you’re using it up, I might have to anyway,” Bryce said, but a grin was on his face. Seeing Kael lingering beside Jevin, he called out, louder. “You also going to fly today, kid?”

“Maybe,” Kael said, smiling warmly at the man. “But only if Bree doesn’t hog it all.”

They traveled across the street and onto the wooden planks, Bryce’s roaring laughter to their backs. As Bree clutched the wing contraption to her chest, she glanced down. The docks were built onto the side of their island, overhanging the sky, and through gaps in the planks she could see glimpses of the clouds below. The sight gave her shivers of the good kind.

Jevin stopped them at an open spot near the middle, let his net plop to the wood, and then lifted his wings up and over his shoulders. He was a scrawny-looking man, his face long and gaunt, but his arms and chest were corded muscle. The wings could carry only so much weight, and while the stunted version the fishermen were given was designed to carry more than normal, it still had its limits. As a result, nearly all the men around were lean and fit, strong of arm, and thin around the waist. The more fish they could carry each trip, the better their pay at the end of the day.

“Is it all right if I go first?” Bree asked her brother as Jevin began tying the buckles.

“You’d only argue with me if I said no,” Kael said, and he grinned at her. “Go ahead. We both know you love flying more than I do.”

Bree mussed his hair, then began sliding on the harness to the wings. She’d never understand Kael. They spent every single day of their lives with their feet touching the ground. The clouds, the wind, the world spinning beyond… how could you ever deny the allure? Putting an arm through one side, she shifted the harness onto her back and shoulders, then slid the other arm through. The weight settled comfortably on her shoulders. The wings were a rustic gold, hard and unmoving from their folded position. Everything else, though, was stiff leather and padded cloth. Two buckles went underneath her armpits, a large strip of leather dropped down her back and then latched around her waist, and the last two strips connected to those looped about her thighs before buckling tight. Bree went through the process one after the other, refusing Jevin’s offered help.

“How do I look?” she asked when finished, standing tall and thrusting back her shoulders.

Jevin smiled at her.

“Like an angel,” he said.

Bree glanced over her shoulder at the small, stunted wings now attached to her back. They were not designed to move, instead remaining perfectly in place during flight. It was the light element that gave the wings the ability to fly, and that element was controlled by the left gauntlet attached to the wings. Reaching over her shoulder, she shifted the wings to rest a bit more comfortably, then unhooked the gauntlet from its side. A slender tube ran from its bottom to the thick stump at the arch of her back, where the wings connected. Bree put her left hand inside the golden gauntlet, then tightened the buckles. It took every hole on the belt to get the wings snug.

“Flex your fingers,” Jevin said, having watched her all the while. She did so, showing that the gauntlet fit fine and would not cause issues in flight.

“What next?” Jevin asked, running her through the checklist he’d taught her to prepare for any period of flight.

“Check the element,” she said.

She lifted the gauntlet, where along the wrist was an opening covered by a sliver of glass. Inside, protected by the metal of the gauntlet, was a white prism shard: the light element they used for flight. Various tubes and wires understood only by the theotechs connected to the prism, drawing out the energy of the light element and pulsing it through the tube running from the gauntlet’s edge to the wings. As Bree flew and the light element was used, the color would slowly drain away, turning the prism gray. Peering through the thick glass, she saw the element was bright white, fully charged.

“Good,” said Jevin. “Next, check the switch. Make sure it ain’t sticking or being stubborn.”

Bree knew all this, and on normal days she’d have grumbled at his belief that he must remind her. Not today. Today she felt a stirring in her stomach. Today, she knew, was different.

Built into the right side of the forefinger was a red toggle switch. Using her thumb, she could tilt it forward and backward, effectively increasing, or shutting off entirely, the push from the light element that was sent to the wings. Back and forth she moved it, quick enough to prevent the wings from gaining any lift. The contraption thrummed, a deep, pleasant sound. The wings themselves shimmered a bright gold.

“Remember, stay above the docks,” he told her as he picked up his net. “And try not to fly more than thirty minutes. Bryce gets pissed at me when you do.”

He walked toward the end of the docks, and she followed. Jevin paused, and there was no hiding his frustration when he glared at her.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m going with you.”

“No, Bree, you’re too young to…”

“Josh Hadley is already fishing with his father, and he’s fifteen. Do you think he’s a safer flier than I am?”

Of course he wasn’t, and the argument was hardly a new one for her. Still, Jevin was suited up for work, and with each second he argued, he risked missing out on a good catch.

“Fine,” he said. “Your aunt will kill me for this, no matter how many times I tell her it was your idea. Promise me you won’t do something stupid.”

“Jevin…”

“Promise me.”

Bree rolled her eyes.

“I promise,” she said.

Jevin hardly looked convinced, but he let it drop.

“Let’s go,” he said. They walked to the edge of the docks, where the wood came to an end. Peering over, Bree saw only clouds, big white puffy things drifting lazily along. The twisting in her stomach heightened, but her excitement easily overwhelmed it.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Kael called out to her, stopping at a groove cut into the wood that marked where those without wings were not allowed to cross.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Bree