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  “Just go with her, Arlei,” a third man in the party said. This was an aquarin, his spindly legs supported by thick gold-plated braces. "She'll give you a better night than we could show you."

  Liari batted her eyes enticingly, and slowly a smile spread across the mogul’s face.

  “I’ll show you play,” he purred, and Liari thought she might vomit.

  It’s just temporary, Liari told herself. He’ll be dead soon and this will all have been worth it.

  Arlei bid his companions good-bye and escorted her to his speeder, and as he helped her inside Liari paid special attention to the panel beneath the steering column. The flight to his home was quick and silent, but Liari knew how to play her part through looks alone.

  They parked his speeder in the private parking garage of his high rise. His penthouse was a few hundred stories from the base of the canyon, completely isolated from the rest of the apartment complex. Within the canyon and even above it, it was difficult to escape the constant noise of the capitol. Arlei had claimed the only high-rise in Roirse that boasted such isolation. It took a biometric scan just to get them into the lift—two fingerscale prints and a retinal scan. Liari made a note of it all as they ascended. Arlei’s lavishness would be his downfall.

  “Welcome to the Royal House,” he said playfully, offering Liari his hand. She daintily walked up the stairs to the flat and looked around. The style was classical, with gilded arches arcing gracefully over windows and doorways. The immune lamps were muted, just enough to where faint shadows were spread against the walls. Inside, marbled tile floors were covered in intricately woven rugs. The main sitting area was large enough to fit three overstuffed couches, each covered in rich throws and numerous pillows. Artwork adorned the walls.

  “It is lovely,” Liari breathed, but inside she seethed. It was stolen, every last bit of it. A mantelpiece caught her eye from where it sat above the fireplace: a solid brass sand hawk with wings spread and talons out, diving for something unseen.

  Arlei made his way over to the wet bar on the other side of the room, hips swaying in an exaggerated walk. He really was putting on a show for her.

  “Do you drink?” he asked. He didn’t bother to wait for an answer before pouring her a glass of something amber.

  “Occasionally,” Liari lied, taking the drink. Taz would murder her if xe caught her imbibing. Taz would murder her if xe knew a lot of things about Liari. Arlei followed Liari’s gaze and smiled.

  “It’s a lovely piece, isn’t it?” He crossed the rug to stroke the sand hawk’s beak. “It came from the palace. A gift from the Heir.”

  Not my Heir, Liari thought. But outwardly she smiled and pretended to sip at her drink. Her unoccupied hand slipped into the pocket of her ilhuei and thumbed the cap off of something small and thin.

  “Now,” Arlei said, moving to stand before her. He ran his hand down her arm. “Where shall we start?”

  Liari leaned in closer, until almost no space existed between their bodies. “How about here?” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. Arlei didn’t see the small syringe concealed by her palm until it was too late. Before the mogul could respond, her hand was moving, plunging the needle deep within his neck.

  “Wha—" the avian's eyes widened and his hand slapped at his neck, knocking the syringe out of Liari's hand. But it was too late; the needle's full payload had already been delivered. He took a step towards her, hand outstretched, and fell flat on his face.

  Liari allowed herself a moment of pause, to relish the image of this despicable man lying prostrate and in disarray at her feet. There was something empowering about seeing your enemies at their most vulnerable. With a strength that belied her slender form, she slung Arlei's arm about her shoulders and lugged him to his feet. Her prosthetics made the whole affair far more difficult that it needed to be, but she kept them on. They were still within range of Arlei's cameras.

  She picked her way through his apartment, not mindful of the dead weight on her shoulders. His hip slammed into a doorway, his head snapping sideways, and she only wished he was conscious to feel the pain. They arrived at his private landing pad and she tossed his body unceremoniously into the backseat of his speeder, then slid under the front console and yanked the driver's side panel out from beneath the steering yoke. A jumble of wires cascaded down before her. Liari remembered Taz's instructions and picked out the wires she'd need, cutting them with the sharp edge of her fingerscale and touching them together until the speeder's engine came to life. With some difficulty she struggled into the driver's seat, cursing her fake wings all the while. At last she settled herself into the plush upholstery and tapped on the accelerator. And they were off.

  Once they were free of Arlei's surveillance net, Liari shrugged out of the prosthetics. Her back, unaccustomed to carrying the extra weight, had begun to ache. Liari was glad to be rid of the damn things. She gently angled the speeder downwards and accelerated towards the city center. Arlei's body rolled off the backseat into the foot wells with a heavy thud. Liari smiled.

  Their destination was, ironically, one of Arlei's more recent projects. It was set to be a grand hotel that would house Lhiyrra's councilors during summits and other diplomatic meetings, where they would continue to strip away the rights of just about everyone in the Cradle who didn't ascribe to their narrow standards—stubs and humans most of all. Like every other high rise in the canyon, it, too, was paneled with a reflective metal. However, it was not yet completed and three of the hotel's five sides were not paneled. The upper levels remained open to the air, construction sheets flapping about their edges in the upper city's winds. It was here Liari brought the speeder down and lugged Arlei's body from the back. He was beginning to come around. The tranquilizer she'd given him was designed to knock the target out for only a short time. Liari wanted her targets conscious when she killed them.

  Still, she had to work fast. She pulled the wrap around her neck over her head. The masked hood fit to her face like a glove, obscuring any identifying features. Liari didn't doubt Arlei would know who she was. There were only so many killers targeting Lhiyrra's inner circle. She helped him into a sitting position, securing his arms tightly behind his back with the lightweight binders she’d stashed in the pocket of her ilhuei. Then she sat before him and waited.

  It didn’t take long for Arlei to fully come to. It was sudden. One moment his head was resting on his chest, the next it was snapping up, fully alert. His eyes were wild. He took in his surroundings all at once: the high rise, the glow of the city beneath them, the dark masked figure sitting before him. His breath hitched.

  “Knight.”

  Liari smiled. It was harsh. “Hello, Arlei.”

  There was a pattern to how her targets reacted when they realized who she was. First there was anger and bravado: “You won’t get away with this.”

  This was always Liari’s favorite. She loved listing back her victims and watching their face slowly fall. “Oh, but I got away with Hori, and Vire, and Leshel and Niranye before you.”

  Then there was bargaining: “Just tell me what you want. I promise you, no price is too steep.” Poor Arlei. His bluster had faded so fast. He actually looked like he might cry.

  “You have nothing I want,” Liari said simply.

  Then there was pleading: “Please don’t kill me.” Good stars, he was crying. Liari stood and crossed the distance between them, running her hand across his cheek.

  “I might have entertained that idea earlier tonight. But then you took me home, and I knew I couldn’t let you live. Too young, Arlei?”

  “Please,” he begged. Liari pretended to consider it, slowly circling her victim. Once. Twice. A third time. She saw the sweat beading on his brow, soaking the veil falling from his circlet. She stopped behind him, resting a hand on his left wing.

  “No,” she said at last, and with a sharp twist snapped the secondary radial bone. Arlei screamed. Wasting no time, Liari gripped the bones of his right wing and broke them over
her knee. Arlei cried out again. Liari moved to stand in front of him, placing a hand under his chin and forcing him to look into her eyes.

  “You did this to yourself, Arlei. I want your dying thought to be of how this could have been avoided.” She tilted her head. “Do you know who I really am? Have you figured it out yet?”

  Despite the pain, Arlei managed to muster some anger from deep within. Liari was mildly impressed. He glared at her, tears streaming from his eyes. “The false Heir.”

  “Right you are, my friend.” Liari gripped Arlei’s bicep and hauled him to his feet. He was easily thirty centimeters taller than her, but the pain from his wings kept him subdued. Adrenaline could only do so much to mask the agony of two broken wings. Liari pushed him to the lip of the floor. Together they looked down at the city below. The fall would be long, and anyone who fell from this exact spot would hit many a cable on the way down. Liari reached into her pocket and withdrew a slip of holopaper. Scribbled on it were five words:

  To Lhiyrra with love,

  Knight

  Liari stuffed it into the waistband of Arlei’s ilhuei. He grunted as she jostled his wings.

  “This doesn’t mean you’ve won,” he snarled. Ah, the bravado was back. “You can kill us all and the Cradle still won’t accept you as their Heir.”

  Liari’s jaw worked. “Maybe not,” she said, “but at least you’ll all pay for what you did.”

  Arlei laughed. “Lhiyrra really has broken you, hasn’t he?” The mogul leaned forward until Liari could feel the man’s breath on her face. “And I get to die knowing that.”

  A surge of rage flashed through Liari. With a grunt she kicked at Arlei’s knee. He toppled easily over the ledge. She heard his laughter, slowly fading to nothing as he fell. She stood there in the deathly silence, breathing hard, seething still. The anger at Arlei had become anger at herself, anger that he’d managed to get to her. It took her a few moments to collect herself.

  She was quite a distance above the city’s walkways, but the immune lamps gave her a clear picture of down below. Arlei's body was a twisted wreck on the pedestrian platform beneath her, broken wings fanned behind his shattered, unmoving body. Red pooled around his head like a halo. She couldn’t hear the screams from up here, but she could see the chaos. Parents shielding their children, frantic bystanders holding pads to their ears. Some were already looking up at the building, squinting through the protective glow of the lamps to try to spot the culprit. Off in the distance, the sound of sirens picked up.

  Liari knew she didn’t have much time. The hawks would arrive shortly, ready to lock down her building. No one could fly out or leave through the elevator. But the same wrong feeling, the sick fascination that kept her staring down at her twisted handiwork, rooted her to the spot.

  I did that, she thought.

  He deserved it, Knight whispered to her. He was willing to kill innocents, kill a child, to get where he wanted. He earned this fate.

  Knight was right, of course. Knight was stronger, tougher, and always—always—right.

  Liari turned on her heel and made her way towards her exit. Because of the half-completed nature of the building, it was only a matter of brushing aside the heavy plastic and crawling out onto the ledge.

  Flying now would be a death wish. The hawk’s sirens were growing louder. They either had avians in the air or were flying speeders. She’d never be able to outfly them even if she did have wings. And leaving by the ground entrance would yield the same result. However, scaling the side of the building in broad lamplight was not something any hawk could anticipate.

  Liari pulled her mask lower over her eyes and tugged on the straps holding her mantle to her back. At first, the lightweight black fabric pulled at the light, making her visible against the reflective sides of the building. Then the light-activated mirror fibers woven into the fabric kicked into gear, and the fabric became all but invisible. The wind held it tightly to Liari’s body as she swung her leg over the windowsill. Anyone who knew she was there could locate her, but the hawks would be studying the air, not the building.. They’d never notice her.

  She was halfway to the nearest walkway when the hawks finally descended on the building. Liari easily leaped from the almost-sheer side of the building down to the walkway with ease. No passersby noticed her, too preoccupied with the gruesome scene before them. It was a simple matter to slink away to the moving staircases that could take her back down to the Lampless district. Despite what Arlei had said, Liari knew the truth. Tonight she had won.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Many years ago there lived an avian named Edaui. It meant “bright star.” She was born a Luminant to humble crop workers on a farm in the southern province of Valiant. She was loved, from the moment she was born. Everyone who met the infant was enchanted by her. Her favor only increased when she was anointed on her first birthday and was discovered to be the next Heir.

  Her parents, who had struggled just to get by for so long, were suddenly thrust into a world of plenty. The small family of three was relocated to Roirse, to the Royal House. The current Heir, ruler of the Cradle, was Ivet, an equina who had ruled benevolently for quite some time. Ivet had a child: Vartaz. They welcomed the new family with open arms.

  Edaui had a happy childhood, for a time. She was doted upon by her family, admired by the palace dwellers, and loved by the people of the Cradle. But things changed when she turned three and her wings came in. They grew at odd angles, the membrane between them wrinkled and weak, the bones twisted almost beyond recognition. Edaui didn’t know she was different. Everyone else did.

  Wings were the pride of the avian people. They had conquered the skies before any other Cradle race knew how to create fire. Those without flight were regarded as less than avian. Something was wrong, something was missing. To be avian was to fly. There was no other way to acceptably be.

  When Edaui was revealed to be flightless, it plunged the Cradle into a crisis. At first the integrity of her parents was called into question. Rumors spread that their marriage was unhappy, that Edaui was not actually her parents’ child.

  “She’s been cursed by the Divari for the sins of her parents,” they whispered.

  Ivet came to their defense, and in turn the people came for xer next.

  “An avian without wings is hardly an avian at all. The child is an omen.”

  “Ivet has protected the humans for so long,” they said. “Perhaps the Divari have had enough.”

  “Her parents are supporters of Ivet. Edaui isn’t the real Heir; Ivet is rewarding this family for their loyalty.”

  The last rumor took hold. It gained traction among Ivet’s detractors, those who resented xer for xer continued protection of humanity in the face of starless sickness. Tensions grew between Ivet’s supporters—mostly avians, who saw the similarities between humans and themselves, and equina, who would stand behind Ivet no matter what—and her enemies—nearly all the levian and aquarin, who had no reason to not see Edaui as an omen.

  Edaui was privy to none of this. After all, she was just a child, and children had problems of their own. The rest of the palace children had heard the words from their parents, and repeated the thought that Edaui was cursed.

  “You can’t fly,” they taunted her. “You’re not like the rest of us.”

  The older avian children swooped down from tall fences, cuffing her head as they went past. They mocked her with their flight. Edaui fled from them, wiping tears from her eyes. She didn’t feel any different than them. Why couldn’t she be like them?

  It was Vartaz who found her, huddled beneath a windowsill and trying not to cry.

  “I'm the Heir,” she whimpered. “I should be like them.” She turned to xer with the most miserable expression on her face. “Why don’t my wings work?” Vartaz exhaled through xer nose.

  Xe was a good bit older than Edaui. The young Heir was only six; xe had just turned thirteen. But xe had a soft spot for Edaui and sat down beside her, resting a paw on her
shoulder.

  “Your wings don't give you value. The others are jealous of you, so they make fun. They are cowards.”

  Edaui sniffled. “I wish they wouldn't. I don’t like it.”

  “I know,” xe said, and flicked her shoulder with xer tail. “But you don’t have to play with them if you don’t want to. You can play with me.”

  Edaui looked up at Vartaz, wide-eyed. Playing with a thirteen-year-old practically made you a grown up. That would show her bullies.

  The two quickly became inseparable. Vartaz had never clicked with the other palace children. Xe found xe liked spending time with the young Heir. Likewise, Edaui shoved memories of her torment aside. She had a new friend now, one who accepted her even if she didn’t fit in. She could ignore her wings.

  But she could never forget.

  The political situation quickly declined. More and more people within the Cradle saw Edaui as a message from their gods. But it wasn’t until Lhiyrra came forward that things took a turn for the worst.

  Lhiyrra Varenti, up until then, had been a representative for the levian homeworld of Hlean. He had made no secret of his contempt for Ivet and xer policies, or of his opposition to human settlement. Many rioters of the past had marched in Lhiyrra’s name. But nothing much happened, until Edaui's ninth birthday.

  Lhiyrra called a press conference on Hlean that day, and it was broadcast throughout the entire Cradle. He stood as tall as a levian could stand, flanked on all sides by high priests of Hlean's signumaria, shouting into a microphone while his supporters cheered.