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Chapter 1


She clutched her arms as another shiver took her. The moon looked down on her from above, streaming light through the crack of wood. The night was a bitter, autumn cold.
Footsteps broke the silence, and she scrambled to her feet, sending hay in all directions of the glorified crate she was trapped in. A small slat opened in the door. “Alright in there?” A narrowed pair of eyes inquired.
“Fine.” Show weakness to them? Never. The man merely nodded, and turned to leave. She sucked a breath in, and changed tactics. “Wait!” Her eyes went wild. “I-I’m not alright. I am thirsty.” He sighed and opened the door.
“Don’t make trouble. You know how this works.” She swallowed, and gave a nod. She kept her eyes on the ground and took small steps. This would work. Her waiting would come to an end tonight.
“Alright, here’s a canteen.” The man moved to pick it up, and she swiped his knife in one fluid motion. As he turned back to her, she punched him hard enough to send him reeling and took off running into the nearby trees as fast as legs could carry her. He was already yelling to the other men, and her awkward shuffle-run was annoyingly slow. Stupid chains.
It was time for Plan B: find the nearest high ground and take off. She lifted herself up into a tree and uncurled her wings. Her shirt had already been ripped from them, so she managed to unfurl them without much noise. She gave her wings a look over once.
Strong, black tendons held the thin, shadowy membranes of skin stretched between them. She contracted the skin, and knew she was ready. Her wings began to beat, slow and steady, then increased until she pushed off from the branch and forced herself into the air.
Arrows racked the air around her, one lodging in a wing. That didn’t matter as long as it wasn’t a dart, and by now she was sure she could tell the difference. She blankly wondered when it would be safe to stop. Five hours? A day? She mentally shrugged. It didn’t really matter either way. Rest, fly home, and start another search for Emera. That was all there was to it.

***


Vee Nightwing swept in two days later, in the evening. “Nightwing, you look like the Pitts!” Tyler Crowbeak gave her a pointed look. Her black hair snaked down in thick bunches, stopping just above the elbow, and what had once been a light tan was now dark brown from filth. He was likely also referring to both her scars and the fresh wounds that made criss-crossing patterns along her arms. She shrugged.
“Nice to see you as well.”
“Do me a favor?” he snorted, “Clean yourself up before you give someone a heart attack.”
“I was planning on it. Did you need something, or is it a habit of yours to snoop around my suite?”
“Truthfully? I was hoping to inform you of your Coming-of-Age ceremony. It comes on the twenty-first of next month. You will have rid yourself of the wounds and scars by then?”
“Of course.” He gave a curt nod to Vee and departed- using the door instead of the window she herself had used. Polite society dictated he do so, but since when did either of them care about social nuances? Tyler Crowbeak was up to something, and she was going to have to fix that by sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong. It was a game they had played as children, and growing up had only raised the stakes.
Vee pulled out the arrow and and washed herself in the bathroom. Stepping out, she dressed herself in a simple, feminine green shirt- holes for her wings designed in the back- and black capris. Court rules dictated she wear some form of identification as the lady of the house, so she slipped on a headband decorated with black thorns on top. It didn’t hurt her, of course, but it did have the desired intimidation effect.
Next came her arms and face. She started murmuring the old spells and felt the hum of her magic in response. It flickered across her skin in waves and crackles, and she closed her eyes to better channel her sri, the magic of her family. When she finally cracked them open, her wounds had faded into lighter scratches and scars. It would have to do for now, she sighed.
Vee slid into the courts. Dignitaries from her land and many others stood talking to one another or carrying conversations at the dinner tables. A tall, lean man was speaking to a few others in low tones. He had raven black hair that matched Vee’s and when he caught her gaze, he cleared his throat.
“Ah, my enchanting daughter. I will hear the tales of your travels at a later time, if convenient. Was there something you wished to discuss?” Vee walked to his side, and he wrapped his arm around her, fingers resting lightly on her upper arm.
“Nothing pressing,” was her smooth reply. He began conversing with the small circle gathered around him, and she listened to the sounds around her with keen ears. Information was important because it was an advantage over others.
Vee felt eyes on her and her scalp prickled, but she didn’t turn to see who it was. Had she been standing in any other circle, she knew that someone would ask the question, “What happened to your face?” It was one of the reasons she had joined her father’s circle. Vullian Nightwing allowed only warriors and sensible informants into his closest circle. Of course he had to associate with the other dignitaries and those of the upper class, but he chose only to do so during the daylight meals.
She tried not to laugh of the difference between the Vee that had been held captive and tortured and the Vee of high society. Only a few days ago she had been living in a glorified pet crate; now she was the heir to the Nightwing throne.
Vee hid her amusement well and passed the evening at her father’s side. They feasted in upper court fashion with lavish meals and delicacies. She grew tired of it, but managed to keep her irritation in check.
It seemed an eternity before their guests finally headed to their own quarters or inn rooms. When they were finally alone, her father dragged her into the living room of his suite and shut the door behind them.
“Where have you been, Nightwing? Subjugating yourself to torture? These are foolish endeavors- and if you have disappointed me, I can make you into a proper lady and you shall never see battle again.” Vee held her tongue. These were the angry words of a man who had spent more than a fortnight worrying after her well-being.
“I sought information on Emera. She has to be somewhere. I allowed myself to be captured, and I learned valuable information while feeding them the occasional lie. The torture? Completely useful. Without it, they never would have believed my battle plans.”
“And Emera Brightclaw?” Vee ran her hands through her hair, careful of her headband.
“Nothing! I can’t find a single trace of her. It’s as if she fell into the Pitts themselves.” The black-haired girl sighed. “I know I can’t keep doing this but how can I not?”
Vullian Nightwing pulled his daughter to him, and she dropped her head onto his shoulder. “I am proud of all you have achieved,” he whispered, “and while you search for her, I will continue to believe in the both of you.” Please, come back to me in one piece. I cannot bear to lose you as I lost your mother.
“I know.”

***


Vee’s day consisted of ignoring the courts in favor of the kitchens for breakfast- she could do it since she hadn’t had the Coming-of-Age ceremony, and she intended to take full advantage of that while it lasted.
Afterwards, she popped by the palace library and picked up a dusty tome on the Brightclaw history- it detailed their land, dealings with other kingdoms, and their ancestors tales. Legend said their ancestors came from tigers, just as Nightwing legend said the same of bats. Proof of it lay in physical form, so it was accepted as common truth- though not something discussed among scholars.
After an hour, she slammed the book shut in disgust. It was merely a compilation of everything she already knew. Emera had told her all herself, and the history hadn’t detailed anything fishy. Brightclaws were known for speaking and dealing plainly with all other lands. They hadn’t ever had a single under-the-table deal with anyone since the written word was created!
Unless- her eyes widened. Unless they had finally had some sort of shady dealing that they weren’t proud of. Something dark that could tarnish the name that their ancestors had built up for centuries. Then of course it would be buried so deep that the libraries, the courts, and even their enemies wouldn’t know what it was.
She stood and practically ran from the library. She had a pretty good idea why Emera had disappeared off the face of the planet. It made so much sense now; how could she have been so blind?

Imprint

Text: Kayla Rupper
Images: Bookrix
Publication Date: 07-30-2012

All Rights Reserved

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