Chapter 8: Wayward Winds | page 9

She made her way back to the corner where Maeve waited. The Arcadian woman was crouched like a white-winged gargoyle atop the low roof, her spear held loosely in one hand. She clutched a long-necked narcohol bottle in the other. Xia noted with disgust that it was already empty. The Ixthian waved to her, but Maeve wasn’t looking. She was staring right past Xia, at Anthem.

Having waited her turn, a towering Hadrian woman was haggling with the prostitute. Anthem nodded and accepted a small color chip. He turned to say something to the other two fairies, perhaps a farewell or to ask them to wait for his return, but the white-eyed woman took Anthem by the arm and hauled him away into the street. He bowed his head in defeat and followed his client. Perhaps the Sisters no longer preyed on the Arcadians, but their lots had not improved by much, Xia thought.

There was a crash of shattering glass. Maeve was on her feet, her long wings spread and her eyes ablaze with murderous rage. She spun her glass-bladed spear in white-knuckled hands and made as if to leap down into the street. The narcohol bottle lay broken on the flat rooftop. A few final drops dribbled over the edge of the wall, evaporating almost instantly in the hot, dim sun.

“Maeve, don’t!” Xia cried.

She didn’t look at Xia, but instead of launching herself into the sky after the Hadrian woman, she fluttered to the ground next to her crewmate, the butt of her spear clacking on the walkway. A passing man huffed at Maeve as she folded her wings.

“Don’t need no bird-backs takin’ up the whole walk,” he said.

Maeve grabbed a handful of the man’s robes and dipped the point of her spear suggestively. “You and your earth-bound kind seem to find my kind pleasant enough for paid beddings!” she snarled.

“Hey now, you let go of me this minute, fairy,” he protested. “Local crew’ll not take kindly to yer kinds messin’s. The police don’t come out for much, but if we put in a call, they’ll be happy enough to come out and pluck a few feathers! I’ll be backrolled before lettin’ the likes of you mess with honest folk!”

“Maeve, he’s right,” Xia said. She gestured to the crowd surrounding them. At least twenty men and women had stop to stare angrily at Maeve. “Let go of him. We don’t want trouble.”

The Arcadian let go of the man and he pulled back, brushing himself off angrily. A few other humans made sure that he was alright. He brushed aside their questions, turned and strode briskly away.

“Anyone who takes an Arcadian must be scrapin’ the sands fer color to buy a damned bird-back. Ain’t there no decency left in the world?” he called from a safe distance.

Xia glanced at Maeve, but the furious blaze was gone from her eyes, replaced with familiar, sullen discontent. Her shoulders were slumped again and she watched the restless crowd impassively as they dispersed.

“Come on,” Xia said to her. Maeve nodded listlessly. “I found out what we need to know. Let’s call back to the Phoenix. Then I want to head east. It’s just about sunset. That man, Anthem, told me that the Sisterhood is gone, but I want to see what’s taken its place.”

Xia fished a radio from her pocket and keyed in the Blue Phoenix’s frequency. Maeve shrugged and followed her north through the streets of Gharib, quietly mourning the loss of her last drops of narcohol.

- End Chapter 8 -