Free Above World by Jenn Reese Page A

Aviars.”
    “They’re going to question us,” he said. “And I think eating us is under consideration, too.”
    She answered brightly, trying to ignore the growing pain in her skull. “See? That’s definitely a more immediate problem.”
    One of the Aviars shifted, and the net spun slightly. Their captors were headed for a small tunnel carved into the mountain. She didn’t think they’d all fit — two winged women carrying a couple of Kampii in a net took up a lot of space. But the opening seemed to get bigger and bigger the closer they came. By the time they arrived at the passage, Aluna was convinced that Big Blue himself could have swum right through.
    The tunnel curved up and down and around. They left the warmth of the sun, and Aluna’s eyes instantly adjusted to the dark. Glow stripes had been painted along the tunnel’s stone walls, no doubt to help the Aviars navigate if they came home at night. Maybe they’d been so excited to give themselves wings, that they’d forgotten to give themselves dark sight. The Aviars swooped down and up one last time, and then they plunged back into the sun.
    Aluna gasped. It looked as if someone had scooped a huge bowl out of the mountaintop. They emerged halfway up the side. Aluna could see tunnels and caves carved into the walls, making it look as pockmarked and pitted as the coral in the City of Shifting Tides. She imagined a network of passages and family nests and secret meeting rooms, like the ones the Kampii had back home.
    In the center of the bowl, a huge tower jutted hundreds of meters into the air. Aviars flew in and out of the spire’s countless windows and perched on the resting sticks integrated into the architecture.
    The City of Shifting Tides was probably as big, but you could never see all of it at once through the murkiness of the water. In the clean, crisp air of the mountain, she could make out details for kilometers in every direction. The flurry of brightly colored wings and a constant breeze made the whole place feel perched on the edge of chaos.
    She heard Hoku suck in his breath. She imagined him trying to look in every direction at once, his eyes wide. She didn’t blame him.
    “Hoku,” she whispered.
    “Yes?”
    “Do you think they’ll let us explore before they eat us?”
    He chuckled. “They’ll need more than wings and pointy spears to stop us.”
    Aluna watched a blue-winged Aviar fly straight up and out of the colony’s open roof.
    “Did you see the pulleys?” Hoku said. “Over there, where the water runs down the wall. They can lift things from the ground all the way to the sky! I wonder where they get the power.”
    Aluna wasn’t entirely sure what a pulley was, but she loved the way the water fell from the edge, splashed hundreds of meters down the side of the bowl, and pooled in a glistening circle around the center spire. A variety of four-legged animals stood drinking from its edges.
    The Aviars carrying them flew toward the central building. The pain in Aluna’s head pulsed with each wing flap. She shut her eyes and swallowed, trying not to be sick. In the ocean you had to be careful how fast you went up to the surface or back down to the city. Was the same true for the sky?
    She kept her mouth shut as the Aviar flew into one of the tower’s wider windows and dropped the net to the floor. Hoku’s bag slammed into her shoulder, followed by Hoku himself. She yelped, more from the pounding in her head than from their weight.
    Winged women with spears surrounded them and yanked them to their feet. Aluna gasped again. Without her breathing shell, she just couldn’t get enough air.
    “Welcome to Skyfeather’s Landing,” a tall Aviar said. “You are in the Palace of Wings, and I am High Senator Electra.” She stood like a leader, relaxed and strong at the same time. The gold bands wrapped around her muscled arms were more elaborate than the bands the other Aviars wore. Her brown-and-tan feathers reminded Aluna of the