I Am A Flyer

II: Council and the Twelve

Jett woke to the sound of tapping. It was an insistent sound, one that was soft, yet persistent enough to drag his mind back to the conscious world. His eyes opened slowly, and a blurry, slanted tent ceiling filled his vision.

Huh?

Where...?

He became aware of the tapping then, a constant tock. . .tock. . .tock that beat out a steady rhythm. Jett turned his head towards the direction. A figure sat in a chair beside his bed, hunched over, while the forefinger of one of his hands tapped steadily against the armrest. Jett's eyes traveled upwards, seeking the person's face.

"Ah...!" Jett jerked back, then immediately let out a soft gasp as his injured thigh scolded him severely for the quick movement. He gritted his teeth, then fixed the man with a glare. "It's you."

The man grinned like a foolish little boy, and rubbed a hand through short white hair. "It's me, all right. How've you been, brat?"

Jett scowled. Of all the people to sit at his bedside, why did it have to be Gray? Thanks to that horrible flyer, Jett was now in this whole mess. If he'd just left Gray on the hillside that day, and had let the villagers deal with him, then he'd still be running throughout the Putarc forest, free as a bird.

Thanks a lot, Gray. You're just as bad as Raven.

"Why are you here?" he asked finally.

Gray's smile slipped, and he mumbled something under his breath. Leaning back in his chair, his legs stretched out, he gazed straight ahead, not meeting Jett's annoyed gaze. "Raven asked me to talk to you."

"What? Why would he do that?" Jett was a bit puzzled. "Is he busy?"

Gray snorted. "You could say that. The Council arrived yesterday, so all the important flyers are holding all kinds of meetings and conferences with them. What a pain. . ."

"The Council is here?" A cold tremor tingled down his spine.

"Yeah," Gray waved it off. "Anyway, since they're here, I'm supposed to make sure you know everything, because if you don't by now, both Raven and I are going to be in trouble, or something like that. . ."

Jett stared. ". . .everything?"

Gray grunted in response, and muttered under his breath once more. It was pretty obvious that he was irritated at something. Jett almost thought it was amusing. Almost, because he was a bit confused by the whole thing.

Okay, so the Council was here and Raven was busy with them. That made sense enough. But why was Gray here by his bed? And what was with this 'everything' he was supposed to know?

"Why do I have to do this?" Gray groaned, rubbing his face with an ungloved hand. Jett noticed that the gray flyer's hands were large and rough. Then Gray looked over, and met his gaze. "All right, why don't you sit up? I'm only going to say this stuff once, and I don't want you falling asleep on me."

That idea didn't really appeal to Jett, but he knew it was probably for the best. He was feeling sleepy already, despite his piqued interest. So he pushed himself up onto his elbows, and with much winces, pained grunts, and the unhelpful amused gaze of Gray, he got himself into an awkward sitting position that made his leg hurt all the more.

Gray was smiling at him now. "Wow, kid. You look really bad - like you've been cooking in the oven for three days too long."

Oh, glad he finds me so amusing. Jett inwardly glowered. He knew he was pretty torn up. Just once glance at his bare arms (which were pretty much covered in various bandages) was enough of a clue. Or maybe the fact that the parts of his torso that weren't bandaged up were composed of more brownish burns than human skin. Actually, he didn't even need to look. The simple fact that he hurt everywhere was more than enough. Huh. Wonder what Gray would look like if he had to face a bunch of metal monsters...?