Wings of Thunder

Chapter 2

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Vadon glanced over his shoulder and saw the distinctive black roil of clouds. At the same moment, a gust of wind sideswiped him and Rion, pushing them downward a good ten feet before they were able to correct themselves. They were angling between several apartment towers, heading for the Hall where an archivist was waiting for them. They flew in tandem, as they had a habit of doing.

“That storm has all the markings of a tosis!” Rion yelled down to his brother, voicing aloud what they both were thinking.

“How soon before you think it will hit us?”

Rion cast an appraising eye at the horizon. “Three cycles, maybe less. We must hurry so I can get back to the way station before it gets too bad to fly.”

Vadon bit back his immediate reply as they both banked to prepare for landing outside the Hall of History. The enormous cylindrical-shaped building had an elongated landing platform to accommodate large crowds, and also for frequent visitors who used traps to get from one place to another.

The Hall of History was also a favorite place for schools to take students on a field trip. As the brothers landed, a class of about twenty students spotted them, many of whom recognized the bronze-colored Lord of Thunder. Rion ignored them, knowing protocol would prevent them from approaching him and Vadon unless he signaled he was willing to meet with them. If any lord refused an audience, it would be assumed he was on an important mission. Although Rion and Vadon’s presence at the Hall was not business related, Vadon knew his brother would always place Annie and Kerr’s welfare above his job and position.

They hurried into the main entrance and went in search of Lord Narund, the Grand Lord of History. It was Narund who had told Rion months before that it was possible to bring Annie through the rip in the storm, so that she could live with him on his world. Rion hoped Narund would now be able to tell him the full story of those transplanted outworlders. But in order to find him, they would need the services of any Lord of History, identifiable by his robes of state.

Like most of the other buildings on this world, the Hall was a tall structure. But unlike most buildings where the entrances dotted the outside of the structure like rungs on a ladder, the interior was high-ceilinged to accommodate the millions of sealed vaults containing nearly every written record in their history. Walking through the vast entrance, Vadon was aware of how every sound echoed within like the sound of bells.

It wasn’t long before they found a woman wearing the familiar brown, red, and gold. Her long, wavy hair was almost rust-red in color, as were her wings. She was occupied at a table with a set of scrolls open before her, and she handled the delicate documents with her hands wrapped in fabric. The fact that she wasn’t using one of the sealed examination rooms told them the documents were more recent, as rarer documents could only be examined under very rigid conditions. The men stopped just short of accosting her and waited to be acknowledged.

Looking up from the scroll she was perusing, her eyes widened to see Rion patiently standing nearby. Her voice nearly wavered as she said, “Lord Rion?”

He gave her a nod of deference and smiled. “Lordess. If I may, I need to speak with Grand Lord Narund. It is urgent.”

Quickly, the young woman recovered from her initial surprise. “I am sorry, but Lord Narund just left for Valeeshan. Lord Clossing is in charge. Or can I be of help?”

Rion frowned. Valeeshan was a good two-day journey. Plus there was no telling how long the man would be gone, and common courtesy would not allow Rion to ask. His frown deepened.

“Please. Allow me to try and assist you,” the woman insisted.

“I have come seeking information.”

“Is this of a personal or professional nature?”

“Personal.”

She nodded and gestured toward a series of hallways at the end of the room, leaving what she was doing for later.

They followed her as she led them to a small room with a single window to let in light. The private cubicle contained a small rack, an equally small table, and four backless stools. It was a place where they could talk without having their words echo for others to hear. Once they were inside, she motioned for them to sit.

“My name is Siba. How can I help you?”

Taking a deep breath, Rion took the plunge. “Lordess Siba, as you know, I am married to an otherworlder. Recently, she started to show signs of extreme homesickness for Earth. I worry for her mental, as well as her physical health. What I am needing to know is…the other women, the ones who came to Parra before her. What happened to them? Did they have long, happy lives here? Did they bear children? Did their children all have wings? Did their husbands—”

Siba lifted a hand to shush him. “Lord Rion, if I may?” Pausing long enough to let him catch his breath, she smiled before continuing. “A few months ago, when Lady Annie was recuperating in the hospital, Lord Narund ordered several researchers to start going through all of the annals for specific information. In short, he began gathering every entry regarding outworlders.” Siba nodded at Rion’s surprised expression. “I believe he anticipated your questions.” Getting to her feet, she waved for them to follow. “Fortunately, I know where he keeps those ledgers. I am within my rights to retrieve them for you.”

They exited the small study, went back into the main lobby, and flew up to another platform where she led them into the inner offices held by the Lords of History. Grand Lord Narund’s office was expansive, with a view overlooking the city. Rion glanced out the huge wall of windows at the massive jet-black clouds gathering at the edge of the city, but said nothing.

Indicating a pair of stools around a huge, crystalline table, Siba exited through a narrow side door. Not long after Rion and Vadon had taken a seat, she reemerged with a carry-all filled with scrolls. Laying the carry-all on the table, she unbuckled and opened it.

Rion eyed the dozen or so rolled ledgers. “These do not look like the original scrolls.”

“No,” Siba agreed. “The original scrolls are too fragile. They are not allowed out of the hermetically sealed chambers where they are stored. The Under Lords and researchers must wear protective gowns and gloves whenever they are handling them.” She lifted one scroll and untied the cord keeping it bound. “Any information needed is transferred to a new scroll.”

“How can we be sure the information is correct?” Vadon asked.

“Each ledger is marked and sworn by the Under Lord who transferred the information. Then another Under Lord double-checks the transfer, before validating it. This scroll with the gold cord contains a generalized listing. The other scrolls contain the actual information. The binding cords are marked by dates.”

Slowly unrolling the sheets, the woman angel pressed them to the table, where they remained flat. Rion stood and leaned over the table as he scanned the information. The approaching storm was beginning to block the sunlight, dimming the interior of the room.

Bowing his head closer to the table, he squinted at the tiny, precise script. After a moment, he shook his head. “Help me out here. It looks like there were four other outworlders brought in before Annie.” He glanced at the Lordess. “Only four?”

Siba studied the writings. “You are right. There have been only four others.”

“I thought there might have been more.”

Pointing to a portion of the ledger, Siba said, “According to our historians, the last one was in…” She did a quick mental tabulation. “Umm…one hundred eighty-three master cycles ago.” She sighed loudly. “That is a shame.”

“Shame?” Rion quickly repeated.

“That there is no one alive who would remember who she was.”

“What happened to her?” Rion whispered. “What happened to all of them?”

“I am sorry,” Siba apologized. “I have not had time to read over them, but I would be happy to help interpret for you.”

“I have been taught the old language,” Rion told her.

Siba laughed lightly. “It is not the old language that needs interpreting. It is the handwriting.” She reached for the carry-all and began searching the tags for the scroll with the earliest date. “I must admit, I am as curious as everyone else as to when other outworlders have been brought here. Oh! This seems to be the earliest record.” She started to pull the scroll from the rest, when a sudden gust of wind came through the nearest window and tried to blow the sheets from the first scroll off the table. Another deep roar accompanied the rising gale, which sounded closer with each passing second.

“It is moving faster than we anticipated,” Vadon remarked.

Rion agreed. “That storm looks to be a bad one.” To Siba he said, “We will have to come back another time to read these. I need to get over to the way station.”

“Would you prefer to take them with you?” Siba offered.

“May I?”

“Of course. They are just copies.”

Rion gathered them up and placed them back in the carry-all. Siba helped him refasten the briefcase. Once everything was secured, Rion shoved the satchel at Vadon. “Please take these to the house and make certain Annie and Kerr are in the safe room. Do you remember the key?”

“Yes.”

“Hurry.”

“I will.”

Vadon rushed out of the room as Rion turned to the Lordess. “Thank you for your help.”

“My pleasure. Let me know if I can be of further service. I hope you find what you are seeking,” Siba replied, but the man had already left the room. Another huge wind pushed against the building, and this time she felt the room shudder slightly. In the next instant the rarely heard scream of the siren blasted the air, which could only mean one thing.

Tosis.

Tosis. The woman angel rushed from the room to seek immediate safety.