The Missing Traveller

Alister, Ethan, and Mirielle sat with teacups on one long bench in the house of Elisea and Emmett Perigo. The fireplace cast a warm glow on the tattered rug and wooden floorboards, but the air seemed cold. Alister stared around the room, at the bookshelves filled from floor to ceiling, the photographs which dotted the peeling wallpaper, and the empty couches opposite them.

Mirielle’s bracelet spun faster than ever between her fingers. “So, when were you married?” Elisea leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed. Her blonde hair was wavy and cut to her shoulders, and her grey eyes a storm as they stared at Mirielle.

“Three years ago.” Not so much as a smile accompanied this happy topic.

Yet another uncomfortable silence overtook the room. Ethan stared down his teacup, and Alister fidgeted with his timepiece. Every moment seemed to drag on; it felt more like an hour they sat there rather than ten minutes. After arriving, it was clear Elisea hadn’t forgiven Mirielle for the way she treated her at the academy. Her husband, Emmett, seemed to have made the decision regarding Mirielle, and would give Elisea expectant glances when her words grew too cold. But when he left the room to fetch some food, Elisea’s stony gaze fixed on her former tormenter. She didn’t say a word more than necessary.

The hospitality they’d shown Alister and Ethan was appreciated, but Alister would’ve much preferred being sent on his way with the kite than to sit through the torturous silence. He and Ethan didn’t bother attempting to break through Elisea’s impenetrable wall, although she didn’t treat them as she did Mirielle. Alister exchanged a short conversation towards her when they arrived, but as soon as Mirielle joined in, her small smile wiped away; he hadn’t opened his mouth since.

Alister watched the second hand on his timepiece tick forwards. It wasn’t broken or sluggish, but in this room it seemed to take twice the time to make its way around the face. I don’t think I’ve ever studied this timepiece so intently, Alister thought. He glanced over at Ethan. The young man hadn’t drunk any more of his tea for what seemed like hours, and yet he was as captivated by the liquid in the cup as Alister by his timepiece.

Mirielle, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to bear the silence. “When are you and Emmett planning on having children?”

Elisea’s eyes widened for a moment, before her expression hardened and she strode out of the room, pushing past her husband as he walked in with a tray of biscuits. Alister and Ethan looked away from the objects that had held their attention for so long with expressions of surprise. Did I miss something?

Emmett looked after his wife, and then at the three people who sat on his bench. “What happened?”

Mirielle’s eyebrows lowered in confusion. “I don’t know. I asked her about the two of you having children. My friends used to love to talk about…where are you going?”

Emmett set down the tray on a cabinet and followed Elisea’s path out the door, his blue eyes cold.

Mirielle threw her hands up in frustration, and her bracelet flew through the air. “Does everything I do offend her? I apologised again and again but she still won’t even smile at me. I feel awful for how I treated her when we were younger, but can’t she see I’ve changed since then? What more can I do to please her?”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “How did you convince this woman to let you stay here for free again?”

Mirielle glared at him and stood to retrieve her bracelet. “I’ve told you, I think Emmett talked her into it. Trying to be forgiving and all that. I think he has a better grasp on that than her.”

“Yes, but he wasn’t the one you tormented at the academy,” Alister pointed out, and regretted doing so at once, when Mirielle’s mouth twisted in pain.

She hung her head. “I know who I was at the academy, and I’ve tried so hard to change that. I thought…but seeing Elisea again, and seeing how much I still affect her…” She sighed. “I suppose I don’t like to be reminded of who I used to be. It was so long ago…”

Mirielle trailed off when footsteps approached the doorway. She turned to see Emmett return to the room with a large kite, its wings already attached, and straps looped over his shoulder. His face was as calm as ever, with only the slightest amount of irritation showing in his tight jaw.

Mirielle stepped forward. “I honestly didn’t mean to offend Elisea…”

Emmett held up his hand to silence her. “You couldn’t possibly have known, but we’ve recently heard from healers it’s unlikely we’ll be able to conceive.” His jaw tightened further for a moment. “It has been hard for Elisea to accept. If you’re trying to avoid offending her, perhaps you shouldn’t bring up children with her again.”

Mirielle’s eyebrows pulled down. “I’m so sorry.”

“You couldn’t have known.” Emmett leaned the kite against the wall. “I returned to lend you this. It’s a little difficult to fit through the front door, but if you use the back you should have no trouble.”

“Why don’t you just fold it up?” Alister asked without thinking. Lark’s travelling kite retracted into a thick bundle he strapped across his pack.

Ethan nudged him. “Only the new and expensive ones fold up, you know. Most families don’t bother spendin’ an extra mark or two for somethin’ that’s pointless in Bastium.”

“I’m afraid this is the best we can do.” Emmett turned to leave, and stopped at the doorway. “I have some idea what you’re planning on using this kite for.” At the concerned looks the three of them exchanged, he smiled slightly. “I don’t want to find out my theory is anything more than just a theory. Understand?”

He left without waiting for their agreement.

“What a top man.” Ethan jumped up and grasped the kite. “Shall we?”

Alister’s relief to leave the room almost daunted the prospect of flying.

Mirielle and Alister followed Ethan out the back door, and she led them to the edge of Bastium, only a street’s length away from the Perigo’s house. Alister stared out into the fog; how many times had he wondered what mysteries it held? Without fog, would he see other mountains, or would it just be an open blue sky? Although he’d been told countless times at the academy the sky was, in fact, a bright blue behind the pale grey, he still suspected it was just a myth grown over the hundreds of years since The Cleansing.

He leaned over the edge and looked down; simple wooden houses perched on the cliff just like the houses in Rindor.

Mirielle stood well clear of the edge as she spoke. “They change the track slightly every year, but it always goes around the same kind of area. On the day, there will be plenty of coloured flags to show you where to go. It starts in a small cavern somewhere below here and weaves through all the houses on the side of the Mount. There are disorganised streets you should be able to see; the track usually follows them. There can be sideways sections, as well as drop offs towards the edge of the houses, and then a rise back up to the cavern.”

“So I should just practice all of those areas?”

Mirielle nodded. “And focus on speed. Turn the corners as tightly as you possibly can, and practice swerving suddenly so you can get a feel for avoiding the other fliers. Hmm. If only we had two kites, Ethan could practice with you.”

Ethan’s laugh shook with nerves. “I ain’t never flown a kite; I’d probably just plummet down to Bulgandon. Besides, I only came today to see how Ali is. I should get back to the inn soon.”

Alister frowned. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to help around the inn during the day. I’ll do as much as I can when I get back.”

Ethan waved a hand. “It ain’t like your room needs to be available. Focus on winnin’ this race. All our lives depend on it.”

“Right.” Alister’s palms became clammy at the reminder. “But still, you’re giving me one fifth off a night as long as I work there, too. I’ll…” He trailed off. He couldn’t offer to pay full price or he wouldn’t even be able to afford another two nights. As it was, he was forced to rely on his winnings of the Flight of Siben to pay for the nights after the competition. “After the race, I can pay full price again. If not, I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”

“If not, you’ll be wantin’ to find somewhere out of Bastium to stay. Out of the Union, ideally. If Mister Black’s got people in Deemstun, you can bet he’ll have them all through the Union.” They quietened for a moment at the thought. “Anyway, let’s see you fly.”

Alister shook the worries from his mind; they’d do no good when he was flying. He took the kite from Ethan and inspected it.

It was heavier than Lark’s, and the bat-like wings, double the length of both his arms, were a faded brown instead of scarlet. The thin wooden poles which braced the wings responded well to the tilt of the leather handles, moving in a way which would allow for quick manoeuvres. Hooks for his feet would change the angle of the tail wings. The wide back saddle which ran down the centre of the kite didn’t break or creak when he flexed it, and the leather chest straps, though worn and cracked, were secured to the board. At the tail end, the ankle straps were in similar condition. Alister checked the wings for any holes, and flexed the wooden beams to listen for breaks. He found none. He tapped a couple of the myrres on the saddle behind where his shoulders would sit, and they answered with a gust of wind to the face.

“Did Ha—Jondar only teach you how to look at a kite, or are you plannin’ to fly it?” Ethan asked sarcastically.

Alister rolled his eyes. “Jondar always checked for damage before flying. Even on a kite like his.” He noted the thin layer of dust on the wings. “It’s even more important on an unfamiliar kite that hasn’t been flown for a while.”

When he finished, they walked to where a set of stairs led down to the streets of Bastium’s lowest districts. Alister took a deep breath and pulled the loosened straps over his chest. He looped his elbows through the handles and folded the wings close to his sides. Having only practiced kite riding two times a year, it felt both familiar and abnormal at the same time.

He paused. “Er…do either of you have goggles?”

Ethan chuckled and pulled out his empty pockets. “This one’s a forward-thinker,” he said to Mirielle, who smiled slightly.

Alister rolled his eyes. “Alright. Here we go.”

Mirielle lifted a hand, hesitated, and folded her arms instead. “Don’t—don’t hurt yourself.”

“I thought you was meant to be sure he could fly well.” She crossed her arms at Ethan’s remark.

Alister managed a laugh. “I’m going now.”

His heart hammered and he ran down the stairs, striking the myrres with open palms. Wind caught the wings, his feet scrambled for the ankle straps while one hand pulled the straps tight, and he let the kite fall to align with the ground. The foot of the stairs rushed towards him. He let his arms fall through the handles until his hands grasped them, and the wings unfurled. He pulled up in time to rise into the air.

What he thought would be a sigh of relief was an excited holler when it left his mouth. Finally. The reason Lark wore goggles in flight became obvious when his eyes stung from the cold wind. Turbines atop the kite spun a striking bar to the myrres, much like the wind-chasers.

Alister glanced at the houses perched up against the cliff, but kept his attention on recovering his buried skill of kite riding. He banked by tilting the handles and twisting the tail wings, and swerved too far out into the fog, but overcorrected on his way back and struggled to balance. When he practiced with Lark, Ronan would fly beside him, and Alister would try to copy the bird’s movements, but Ronan was stuck inside his room in The Kite’s Way.

Instead, he tested the kite’s movements. His feet controlled the tail wings, and the hooks were touchier than he expected. His path jerked through the air. Ethan’s probably already planning his escape from Bastium. Alister gritted his teeth and forced himself to take deep breaths. The kite might fly differently to what he was used to, but he’d four days to master the Perigo’s kite. The thrill of being far enough out from Mount Era that it was shrouded in a thin layer of fog managed to overtake his fear of the stakes on him, but only just.

Once he slowed his breathing, figuring out the intricacies in the kite’s workings followed. He remembered how to coordinate the wing’s movements after a bank, and how to dive and pull up to go even faster. The streets he’d have to fly through in four days’ time were littered with people, but he flew as close to the pathway as possible. He ignored the stares as he flew by, and banked for the upcoming bend. He folded the wings to turn in the opposite direction, before speeding up again to reach Ethan and Mirielle. He drew the wings close to reach through the handles and stop the striking bar, and extended the wings one last time, without the myrres to push them. He pulled up enough to slow the wings to a manageable speed. Once he was upright, he hit the ground running and slowed to a walk a distance from his friends. They ran down the stairs to him. Alister pulled a hand from the handles and pushed it through his windswept hair. How could I have forgotten how freeing this is? His eyes were wide with exhilaration; the last time his heart had been so light was before he left Rindor.

Ethan wore a smile. “That ain’t half bad.” Despite his mild compliment, his eyes gained a glimmer of hope.

Alister laughed. “Are you joking? I was all over the place.”

“At first, maybe.” Mirielle’s smile widened. “But you haven’t flown in months, and it’s an unfamiliar kite. You were doing just fine by the end.”

Alister’s grin fell. “Just fine? I’ll want to be a whole lot better than ‘just fine’ for the Flight.”

“And you will. You just need to keep training.”

Alister glanced at Ethan. “What about everything you said last night?”

He shrugged. “I honestly thought you would just crash right after you got off the ground. Call me mad, but I think you can do this.” He patted Alister on the back. “I’ve got to get goin’. I’ll see you when you get back, alright?”

Alister nodded, and Ethan turned to the street.

Mirielle still all but bounced up and down. “So I think if we cut down the time it takes to turn those corners, we can have a real edge on the other fliers. Most of the time, they pull up and tilt the wings the way you did before you landed, then rotate and build up speed again on the straight. In the Tournament of the Skies, I’ve seen fliers approach the corner with the wings curled, and then unfold them at the last second and bank so they’re sideways, then go around and keep most of their speed. The only problem is staying in control, which is why not all of the Tournament fliers do it. But if you can manage it that way, you’ll keep out of the way of everyone else and hopefully speed ahead.”

They went through the details of the manoeuvre, and Alister practiced the motions while he stood with the kite. They must have discussed every fine aspect before he took to the skies and tried sharp banks in the open air.

The rest of the day was much of the same. They’d figure out a new manoeuvre to fly faster or dodge at the last second without losing control, Alister would practice it far enough away from the Mount that he wouldn’t crash, and when he was confident enough, tried it at a low speed near the streets. Mirielle stopped by the Perigo’s house to get some goggles for Alister, and she seemed to become more and more excited as the day went on, even as she kept her distance from the edge of the cliff. They took a break for a meal of rice and meat when the sky was at its brightest. As soon as Alister sat, he felt how tired his muscles were, his core most of all.

He shovelled down his food, eager to get back in the air, as Mirielle told him stories of Lark when she knew him.

“When his parents first began to introduce him to the Council, he couldn’t stop talking about how he was going to make Bastium a better place. And then he couldn’t stop talking about how his advisor and father wanted him to lie and manipulate. He’d always go and ride his kite when he was stressed, and the few months before he left he was flying almost every day. Anyway, he’d always be trying to push the rules. We snuck into a selective party once, pretending to be the host’s visitors from Delemor. I don’t know how Jondar made up so many facts about our roles in Delemor’s council, but we managed to get away with it for a couple of hours. Then the host’s actual visitors from Delemor turned up and we ended up having to climb out of the second floor window before they could find us.” She laughed. “Thankfully, it was a masked party, or Jondar’s advisor would probably have ripped him to shreds for tarnishing his name. It was a brilliant party, though.”

She told him more stories as they finished the food.

“You said you saw him once after he left. Why only once? He went to Bastium twice a year, didn’t he?”

Her smile faded. “Yes, he did. But I asked him not to contact me anymore.”

“Why?”

“It’s not exactly easy saying goodbye for half a year to someone you…” she stopped. “I knew I couldn’t keep doing it, he knew he couldn’t stay…sometimes things just don’t work out.”

“Oh.”

No words of comfort came to him, but they’d finished their lunch, so Alister returned to the sky. His muscles ached more than ever, and he regretted going through his daily Elin-tor. He still lost control of the kite every so often, as he had before lunch, but he improved at correcting it.

The sign to end practice was when he swerved to avoid an imaginary threat and the left wing of the kite scraped the cliff. He lost control altogether and collapsed onto the road.

He winced at the pain, but checked the kite’s damage as Mirielle ran up to him.

“Are you alright?”

She inspected his hands while he noted the kite was still in good condition. “I’m fine. And so is the kite.”

“You’re fine?” Mirielle arched an eyebrow, and pointed to his hands. “You’re shaking!”

Alister followed her gaze and was surprised to find she was right. His hands shook without his permission. Only his thick sleeves stopped his arms from being ripped apart by the rocky ground. “Perhaps we should finish for today. It’ll start to get dark soon, anyway.”

Mirielle nodded. “You did well today. I truly believe you’ll win the Flight of Siben.”

Alister chuckled. “There’s a great difference between optimism and overconfidence.” He hesitated and picked up the kite. “Did the Perigos lend me this for the entire four days, or just for practice?”

“The entire four days.”

Alister grinned and looped his arms through the straps. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night.”

Before she could respond, Alister ran along the edge of Bastium. He pushed off and flew into the sky, ensuring his eye followed the streets. He wouldn’t know The Kite’s Way from any other building if he didn’t follow his way back.

Dozens of fliers filled the sky around him, but they had no trouble veering around each other, even as Alister kept his eyes on the ground until he reached the inn. He burned the image of the area from the sky down into his memory; if the kite was his for four days, he’d have to remember where to go. What would’ve been a tiring walk back to the inn became a two-minute fly from the Perigo’s. He descended and pulled up, before he ran down the street until the wind slowed the wings enough. The smile remained on his face when he went inside The Kite’s Way to put the kite away.

He found Ethan in the corridor on the way out of his room

Ethan gave him a wry smile. “So how was the rest of the day?”

Alister recounted his practice, going into detail on the more exciting manoeuvres. When he noticed the broom in Ethan’s hand, he apologised.

“I should get to work, especially since I couldn’t at all today.”

Ethan put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. There ain’t much work, and you should focus on kite ridin’, not cleanin’ this place up. Besides, if you win, then you can pay the full price, right?” He laughed. “It’s time for my break, anyway. You wantin’ some dinner? Sarila made a stir fry and it smelt real delicious. I wanted to eat it right off the diner’s plates.”

“Sounds good.”

The two of them enjoyed Sarila’s delicious creation over some friendly banter in Ethan’s small room, with the fireplace blazing. Ethan could make Alister laugh just as easily as Gale and Louis would, if not more. His crass humour sometimes surprised him, but he was more or less used to what came out of Ethan’s mouth. It was only when he joked of the consequences of them not meeting The Smith’s deadline when Alister couldn’t laugh.

“See you at breakfast?”

“If Sarila’s cooking again, you’ll always see me at breakfast.” Ethan laughed and pulled his sleeping mat closer to the fireplace. “I can’t believe it’s still the last days of autumn. Feels like the middle of winter. Take some extra blankets from the drawers if you need, tonight.”