Whispers on the Wind: The City of Clouds

Part 6: Flowers on the Field

Inside the residence Derla hurried away to the cooking area. I nosed around the rooms that sprung from the main hall. One was especially gloomy, its small window covered by a heavy drape. I tugged this to the side, and stared in astonishment at what the light revealed.

The fringes of the room were decorated with sculptures. Some were simple, models of eggs and smooth amorphous shapes. Others were intricate beyond belief, as if minute hands had carved them from tiny fragments of gold. I have not the language to describe such beauty as I beheld.

I became aware of Derla next to me.

“They are... who has done this?” I asked.

“It is nothing. A distraction, for me, whilst Hirk-mate is absent on his duties. Please, they are not worth your praise.”

I began to object when there was a shout from the hall. It was a deep voice, male, but not Hirk’s. Derla jumped as if scolded.

“Remain here, please,” she said. “No matter what you hear.”

Through the arch of the doorway I could see a tall Netreptan stood in the hall. He wore insignia on his chest similar to that which Hirk had worn when I found him in the mountains. From that I concluded he must be a Ranger. His stance was confrontational.

“Krunn-ranger, you bestow great honour on Hirk-mate’s house with your presence.” Derla bowed low.

Krunn scooped a handful of beetle paste and ate it. His eyes were like droplets of night.

“Is he dead?”

“Dead? N-no, of course not, Krunn-ranger. Rather he is well recovered, and...”

“Spare me the lies, Derla. I’m not a sparrow-brained store-keeper, and even he wasn’t fooled. How long before you nest?”

Derla recoiled, reaching behind her to steady herself. Krunn prowled towards her, like a predator. I could feel heat rising up my neck.

“I am not... I can not nest. Hirk is recovering, he will not die.”

“And who are we to second guess the gods?” Krunn continued. “It is the right of every high-born to lay claim to nesting mates. I have desired you for many a year, Derla. I have watched whilst Hirk neglects you, fails to nourish the eggs within you. We would have such a fine brood.”

His hands grasped her eagerly. She trembled like a newborn lamb. I could watch no longer—the rage was within me.

Derla struck out and her talon raked his face. He staggered slightly, touching his face in surprise. His eyes glittered malevolently.

“It is clear Hirk does not teach respect in this house. Perhaps I shall lay claim a little earlier than normal.”

He lunged at her and she cried out—a shrill keening noise that drove into my heart like an ethereal quarrel. I strode into the hall my fists clenched.

“Are the feathers covering your ears, Netreptan. She has spurned your advance. There is no more to be said.”

Krunn shoved Derla to the floor. He turned to regard me. Blood trickled down his beak from the wound on his face. A hiss of derision slid from his mouth.

“Ahh, the little mud-crawler who is the talk of the Arcs. This is beyond your ken, girl. Go hide in your filthy burrow.”

“Take care with your challenges—I am not known for my forgiveness.”

Krunn moved in a blur of feathers, far swifter than I could have believed. His wings propelled him across the length of the hall with one beat. His long talons raked towards my face, and I barely avoided them as I lunged to the side.