Thin Air

Chapter 8

Seraphina followed.

She told herself it was only because standing alone on the open platform felt worse than walking behind him. The alternative of remaining on the edge of that endless drop with the wind and the thin air and the knowledge that no one would come if she called was enough to move her feet.

She kept a careful distance, one hand occasionally brushing the stone wall when the path narrowed, and refused to look down.

Every few steps the corridor opened onto another arch, and each time the sheer emptiness beyond it made her stomach tighten. She fixed her eyes on the back of Aric’s wings and kept walking.

Aric walked ahead without checking whether she still trailed him, his wings shifting with each step. The aeries were not a single structure but a network of platforms, bridges, and chambers carved directly into the cliff face.

Open arches appeared at intervals, each one framing another impossible view of sky and mist. The stone underfoot was smooth from centuries of use. The air stayed cold and thin. Far below, the wind made a low, continuous sound against the rock, like the ocean heard from a great height.

They passed two eagle hybrids standing watch near a wider junction. Both inclined their heads to Aric and then looked at her.

One of them froze for half a second too long, eyes widening as the resemblance registered. Aric’s gaze cut sideways, sharp and cold. The hybrid dropped his eyes immediately and said nothing. The second watcher kept his expression carefully blank, but Seraphina saw the way his wings tightened against his back.

She felt the weight of that look even from behind. Whatever they saw in her face was not ordinary curiosity. It was recognition. The knowledge settled in her chest like a second pulse. People here looked at her and saw someone else. Someone important enough to make even disciplined guards forget themselves for a moment.

They turned down a narrower passage that opened onto a smaller, more sheltered platform. A young male waited there, leaning against the wall with the restless energy of someone who had been told to stay put and hated every second of it.

He was large, nearly as tall as Aric, broader through the shoulders, still carrying the slight awkwardness of someone who had not fully grown into his own strength. His wings were a rich bronze-brown, the feathers not yet as dark or as menacing as Aric’s. Messy dark hair fell into his eyes. He bounced once on the balls of his feet when he saw them, then caught himself and straightened.

The moment his gaze landed on Seraphina, the bounce died.

His eyes went wide. The resemblance hit him with visible force. His mouth opened, then closed. He looked from her face to Aric and back again, the question already forming on his tongue.

Aric’s stare settled on him like a blade.

Kestran shut his mouth so fast his teeth clicked. Whatever he had been about to say died under that look. He swallowed, wings twitching once with leftover energy, and managed a rough, “High Talon.”

“This is Kestran,” Aric said, voice flat. “He will see that you have what you need. Clothes. Food. Anything else within reason.”

He glanced at the younger eagle. “She is under my protection. You will treat her accordingly.”

Kestran nodded hard, still clearly fighting the urge to stare. His size made the barely contained energy almost comical, like a large, overgrown fledgling forced to stand still when every muscle wanted to move. He shifted his weight, feathers ruffling, then forced them flat again.

“Yes, High Talon.” His voice was younger than his frame suggested. He risked another quick look at Seraphina and immediately looked away when Aric’s eyes narrowed.

Seraphina crossed her arms, trying to ignore the way the open arch behind Kestran still showed too much sky. “I don’t need a babysitter. I need a way home.”

Kestran blinked, clearly unused to anyone speaking to Aric with that tone. Aric did not react.

“These are your quarters,” he said, gesturing toward the chamber that opened off the platform. “The outer arch remains open. Do not attempt the drop. Kestran will remain nearby until I decide otherwise.”

He turned as if the conversation was finished. Seraphina stepped forward before he could leave.

“That’s it? You walk me here, hand me to someone who looks like he’s about to vibrate out of his feathers, and leave? No further explanation? No answers about why half the people we passed looked at me like I was some sort of ghost?”

Aric paused. For a moment the guilt and the bond and the unbearable familiarity of her face pressed against the walls he had built. He almost told her the truth. The words sat heavy on his tongue. You have her face.

Then he locked them away again. The guilt was still too raw, too large. Speaking it aloud would make it real in a way he was not prepared to face.

“Yes,” he said. “That is it.”

He turned andleft without another word, dark wings folding tight as he disappeared back down the corridor. The sound of his footsteps faded quickly into the constant wind.

Kestran exhaled like he had been holding his breath the entire time. He ran a hand through his hair, bronze wings giving a small, restless shake, and then offered Seraphina a lopsided, slightly nervous smile.

“He’s always like that,” he said, voice dropping to something closer to a conspiratorial mutter. “Well. Not always. Lately he’s worse. Quieter. Sharper. I’m Kestran. You’re not supposed to be here, are you? ‘Cause you're like, a human.”

Seraphina studied him. The boundless energy was still visible in the way he shifted from foot to foot, the way his wings kept making small aborted movements.

It was almost funny, someone that large carrying the fidgety restlessness of a much younger bird. The bronze feathers caught the light differently than Aric’s, warmer, less severe.

“No,” she said. “I’m not. And I still want answers. Starting with why everyone who looks at me looks like they’ve seen a dead person.”

Kestran’s expression flickered with something like sympathy, quickly buried under the same caution Aric’s eyes had enforced. He glanced once in the direction Aric had gone, then back at her. His wings gave another small, involuntary twitch.

“I’ll get you clean clothes and food,” he said. “That’s what I can do. The rest is above my rank. Way above. High Talon decides what gets said and what doesn’t. And right now it looks like he has decided not to say much.”

He gestured toward the chamber. “Come on. It’s not much, but it’s better than the open platform. And try not to stand too close to the edge. The wind up here has a sense of humor. It will take anything you give it.”

Seraphina hesitated, then followed him inside. The room was simple: stone walls, a low bed covered in dark fabric, a small table, an open arch that still showed sky. But it had walls on three sides and that was enough for now. The air inside was slightly less sharp.

She sank onto the edge of the bed, the adrenaline finally starting to drain, and felt the full weight of the height and the silence settle over her. She kicked off the last heel, the missing one made the floor feel uneven even here.

She was still wearing the clothes she had put on that morning for an ordinary day at an ordinary office, and the knowledge of how far she had come from that morning made the stone walls feel even more permanent.

Kestran hovered in the doorway a moment longer, clearly fighting the urge to ask the question still burning in his eyes. Aric’s warning look won. He only nodded once, muttered that he would be back with clothes and something to eat, and left her alone with the wind and the knowledge that the man who had claimed her was carrying something far heavier than he was willing to name.

Seraphina sat in the quiet chamber and listened to the constant movement of air beyond the arch. She had followed because the alternative was worse. Now she was here, in a room carved into a cliff, under the protection of a man who looked at her as if she were both salvation and punishment, and the only person willing to speak to her was a restless young eagle who had been ordered not to say too much.

She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at the open sky. Home felt farther away than the mist below.