Imperial Towers

Chapter 6.

dy4">“I assume wings are natural within the Amouni?”

“No, not all – but you and the Master have special bloodlines, even among the special.”

Never raised an eyebrow. “Trying to boost my sense of self worth, Cog?”

“Perhaps – your brother mentioned that you still believe the lies humanity tell about you.”

“Let’s stay focused on the subject at hand, shall we?” Never approached one of the tables, running a hand over the cold, smooth steel. “What exactly is Snow offering?”

“As before. You Ascend, as fated, and I will give you the medicine and the means to return to Marlosa in time to save your friend. If you disagree, you leave, with or without the powder, but you will not reach Luis in time.”

Never shook his head. He’d been manipulated once again – he had no choice now. He could not let Luis die; he had to gamble that Cog was telling at least a partial truth.

“Fine. What does my brother want? What does he gain from giving me wings?”

“That he has not shared with me.”

Never chuckled. “How like him.” Yet Cog had not denied it. Granting Never wings was merely another step in Snow’s greater plan. Whatever that was.

“Then you accept?” Cog asked.

“It seems I must.” Never glanced around the room. “What next? Take me through the process.”

“Follow me then.” Cog headed for the deep alcove, near-hidden in darkness. At the silver-handled door, Cog once again used a drop of Snow’s blood to enter, his movements precious, even tense. As if he did not wish to waste even a single drop. Within, he leant over one of the steel stools and lifted free the strange instrument Never had seen on his previous visit.

Cog handed it over.

Long as Never’s forearm, it bore a blunted hook at the end. “This?”

Cog lifted one of the ceremonial knives, its blade set with Amouni runes. “And this. It will be painful, but you will not be harmed, truly.”

“How truly reassuring. Go on.”

“I make two vertical incisions down your back. On the table. The Claw you hold pulls your wings free and light from an opening above the dais dries them. There, Snow posits, Amouni took their first flights, back when the dais was fully functional and could still rise.”

“That’s all? I feel nothing within my back that leads me to believe I bear wings.”

“They are dormant, as I said,” Cog replied.

“Meaning?”

“That the Awakening Ritual must occur before the procedure itself. You will not recall much of it but when it is over you will have Ascended.” He gestured back to the circular room. “If you are ready, shall we begin, davishca?”

Never paused. “Davishca? Meaning Great One? None of that, Cog.” He tossed the Claw across the small room to the man.

Cog caught it with a nod. “Very well.”

“Let’s begin,” Never said. He strode back to one of the narrow tables and straddled it, facing the dais, where he removed his cloak, coat and a knife he’d strapped to his side before looking to Cog. A slight shiver crossed his skin in the cool chamber. “All right, Cog. Awaken me and do it swiftly. I have a friend to save.”

“Of course.” Cog produced the vial of Snow’s blood. “First, drink this.”

“My brother’s blood?”

“Yes. The blood of an Ascended Amouni is required to Awaken dormant wings.”

“So be it.” Never took the blood and raised the vial to his lips, pausing. Was that all it would do? Could Snow’s blood have some other effect, something... controlling? Or dangerous.

Perhaps it would teach him something of his brother’s plans.

“It is safe,” Cog said.

“Good to know,” Never replied. “Especially coming from such an impartial fellow.”

“It will have a disorienting effect, admittedly. And I have mixed in enough painkiller to keep the procedure tolerable.”

“And you’ve done this before? For Snow?”

“My Master did not wish for me to reveal such details.”

“Yes, isn’t that good of him.” Never glanced at the vial again. He had to do it for Luis. And he had to know if Snow was lying. Never muttered a curse then threw his head back. Warm, coppery liquid slid down his throat and he fought back a gag, but forced it down somehow. The blood surged through his body, seeming to find a way to join his own so swiftly, that Never broke into a sweat and his vision blurred.

“Lie back,” Cog said, his voice muffled.

Never did as instructed, letting the back of his head lean against the cold steel. The room swam and Cog’s unremarkable face loomed above him, a slight frown marring his brow.

“Something wrong?” Never asked, each word a struggle.

“We just need to give it a little time,” he said, then moved out of sight once more. Never turned his head – again, a slow movement – and found Cog nearby, running the ceremonial blade across a whetstone, honing the edge. Good, a sharp blade would sting less, leave cleaner scars.

But another image competed with that of Cog, fleeting though it was – Zianna, standing on the edge of an autumn-coloured wood, wind-tossing her hair and her expression one of fury. Breathing grew more difficult. Then came a new vision, one of Snow standing over him, arms and cloak spread to shield Never from rain, while he coughed himself into a tight ball... and in the preparation chamber Never’s pulse doubled, blood finally merging with Snow’s until they flowed as one. It seemed also that Never had won some piece of knowledge too... about their blood, yet it faded before he could grasp it.

Never’s pulse slowed and his breathing eased, yet his vision remained blurry and he could not form words.

A weight began to build around his shoulders, blood flowing and building, something... growing and rearranging. Pressure built, along with discomfort. Was his very body going to tear itself open? He grunted at the rapidly rising pain and Cog reappeared. “Nearly time. I’m going to tilt the table up now, so use the stirrups and grip the edges of the table. Do you understand?”

Never made a sound that he hoped suggested the affirmative.

The man ducked out of sight once more and an oddly disembodied sensation of movement followed as the room tilted and then Never felt the probing touch of Cog’s fingers around his shoulder blades. Cog was muttering to himself, but again, the words were indistinct. Pain continued to build, as if something was pushing against his skin from the inside, trying to escape. Never fumbled for the table edge, grasping it, the cold steel digging into his fingers.

Something hot sliced into his skin, running down his back vertically – the new pain a step removed from his awareness. Blood flowed and a second cut followed. As with the first, the pain was present but not unbearable – in fact, it eased the pressure. Steel clattered to the tiles and a moment later something else pushed against his back, tugging at his very insides, tearing the incisions.

Never growled. “Hurry it up,” he tried to say.

The room was spinning now and Cog shouted something but the words were lost. Never tried to turn his head, to ask for help but his strength was gone. Had Cog made a mistake? Amouni symbols, he recognised the lightning bolt and the five-pointed leaf, flashed before his eyes and he cried out as a sudden darkness smothered him.

Chapter 7.

Never sat on the dais and stared at the black feathers.

Light streamed down from the cylindrical opening above, soaking into his wings, long-since dry now. Each feather bore a depth of colour he had not expected; a blue-black yes, but when he tilted his wing just so, purple rested within too.

Even the fact that he could tilt his wings – that he had wings – had barely sunk into his still-groggy mind. Wings where he should have had only shoulders. Impossible. It should have been wondrous... yet something about the pleasure Snow would take from the change did its work to sour the whole thing. If Never wasn’t fully human before, now he was something else entirely.

A cloud passed over the sun, darkening his wings.

The day was wearing on.

Never stood, his wings momentarily pulling him off balance. He folded them closer to his body. The additional warmth was welcome but he couldn’t prevent a frown. Getting used to having wings was going to take longer than he’d imagined. Where did Snow hide the things when he paraded around as Prince Tendov? Snow was rarely without