Free Windswept (The Airborne Saga) by Constance Sharper Page A

complex had been bustling and vibrant.
     
    “A ton of harpies though ,” Avery couldn’t help but comment.
     
    “Very few harpies actually live on the islands off the California coast. Mostly royalty or the rich. And all the people catering to those who make their living off of the above ,” Mason explained. He seemed intent on a destination, leading the group while the Guard trailed after. No other harpies approached but didn’t run either—people skirted the beaten path.
     
    “Why are we here?”
     
    “Since the council announced my appointment, I’ve been making rounds. Portland is easy. It’s one of my father’s biggest havens full of supporters for his bloodline.” It sounded rehearsed. She didn’t ask how long he’d been practicing it.
     
    They reached the first few buildings that were closed in when someone again stole their attention. Bursting forth from one of the houses dashed Stern. Quicker than he looked for someone of his age, he slid to a stop. His feathers even ruffled when his eyes landed on Avery.
     
    “Ms. Zane.” He’d regained some sense of formality and offered a curt nod. “Mason, I must be able to talk to you privately. Our time is waning.”
     
    By privately, he clearly meant away from Avery. Mason didn’t argue, hands only going to Avery’s shoulders for a minute, before he pointed towards a cabin on the right. Made of brick with a chimney and roof, it looked like a homey enough human enclosure.
     
    “Madame Perry will take care of you. She’s our head chef. Eat, rest, wait.”
     
    “Mason, I do have to talk to you ,” Avery quipped when it dawned on her she had just been discharged. This harpie civilization didn’t seem ripe for Patrick to attack—even less when the Guard was around. The heightened fear in Alaska was minimal here but that didn’t mean Avery wasn’t ticking to spill her guts.
     
    “This might be…more important, ” he suggested. Avery noticed Stern staring. Along with the Guard—even if their looks weren’t as concentrated.
     
    She swallowed thickly. No privacy here.
     
    “Okay. I’ll see you later?”
     
    His mouth twitched with a smile , but he repressed it.
     
    “I’ll see you tonight, ” he echoed. Something about that comment made her stomach backflip. She elected not to hug him this time but squeezed his hand on her shoulder before breaking off. She knocked on the wooden door just as Mason and Stern stepped away. They spoke in hushed voices, bodies pointed toward the north. Avery tried to see where their attention went. Samuel’s compound was in that direction. But so was half the harpie mountain.
     
    The door swung open and a stout woman stood on the other side. She was an awkward combination of thin and chubby—round cheeks but massive statute. More apparent than anything else was her bright smile.
     
    “You must be the little human girl! Aw, it’s so nice to meet you!” She even came off with a southern accent. Avery didn’t ask how a harpie had a southern accent in Portland.
     
    “Um, Avery. My name’s Avery.”
     
    Perry shifted her wings in greeting and cleared the doorway. Inside, the walls had been colored a hue of garnet and lined with cabinets and colorful bottles and cans. Overhead from a massive rack hung pots and pans. In the center of the room was a long silver stove. The fit was surprisingly tight. Spotting a wooden bench in the corner, Avery sat and avoided the kitchen supplies. Perry shuffled back in, straight to the counter with flour and dough. The entire room smelled of bread and sweet pastries already.
     
    “Hello , Avery, how are you liking our small town?” She prompted the small talk.
     
    “It’s nice…I just never knew so many harpies lived in Portland before now.” 
     
    “Ha! Probably because you’ve never come to visit us before!” Perry chided. Something on the oven beeped and she scurried over with the spatula, waving it in the air as she made her point.
     
    “I’ve only