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Chapter Sixteen: Fire and Pain
Ilyria looked around. The place was simultaneously confusing and familiar. She looked down at her feet. They sank into the soft mulch of her father’s garden, the one he kept around the back of the kitchen right next to the wall that separated them from the city. She felt a soft touch on the back of her hand as Astrapi leaned in to kiss her. Before he pulled away, he whispered “Don’t trust what you see, trust only what you feel,” then he spread his wings, and was away, over the kitchen wall. As she watched him, the kitchen wall before her shivered and faded, and she thought she saw beyond it to a hill on which colourful tents had been pitched with lights strung along the edges. A rich, fragrant smell drifted toward her from the hill—a familiar, intoxicating smell like a miasma. Chariko! Then Astrapi and the tents were gone and there was only the kitchen wall and the garden. Her father’s garden.
He loved to work there, turning the soil, pulling out the invasive weeds,
Kaugnay na kabanata
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Seventeen: Miasma's Clue
Thassa did his best to allow himself to be led by Ilyria. But he would stop suddenly, or abruptly turn at any noise. Once, he stumbled and pulled Ilyria down with him. Her eyes flew open as she fell, her hands bracing for the fall … … and she found herself kneeling at the door to Daria’s chambers where she was conducting a meeting. Ilryia, had been twelve and spying through the keyhole because her twelve-year old self had already begun to mistrust her mother. She knew they were talking about eliminating a competitor. “I will invite him for a drink,” her mother was saying. The merchant laughed and said, “Your drinks are a health tonic, Merchant Daria, but not a good one.” He didn’t notice that her mother was not laughing as well. Ilyria suspected he should watch his drinks too. Then the merchant had begun to walk toward the door. Feeling the same terror in her body though she tried to tell herself this was not real, Ilyria stumbled backwards again, as
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Eighteen: A Whisper and a Story
She found Astrapi playing with the kitten. For a moment, she just watched the unlikely pair. Astrapi was crouching down, his wings flowing down his back, relaxed and trailing into whisps of mist across the tiles of the courtyard. He was teasing the kitten with one of his own strange feathers and the little kitten was enjoying lunging at it, her sharp teeth closing on air each time she thought she had finally caught it. They were both completely engrossed in their play. “What are those things on her back?” asked Ilyria finally. Astrapi started and turned his head. “I’m not sure,” he said, “She is something new that I’ve not seen before. Ilyria,” he said, standing up and leaving the kitten to her conquest of the confusing feather. “Come away with me. For a little while.” Ilyria thought, “Will you tell me about the First War? And about Izben?” Astrapi smiled, his head tilting to one side and in that moment, Ilyria thought he really did look bird-like. “I
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Nineteen: Love and a Map
Once Ilyria had drawn Astrapi inside the cave, she turned and walked to the bed where she had woken the first time he brought her. The light from thousands of fireflies on the cave ceiling, flickered off Astrapi’s skin as he followed her. He stood before her and like her, seemed to be holding his breath. “Ilyria,” he started to say, and she heard the question there. She put her finger against his lips. It was no longer the time for talking. She thought briefly of the night weeks ago when she was to be married to Dirk. She would have had to have this moment with a man she loathed. She was sure of what she wanted. She wished she was wearing the midnight hued cloud silk dress. She wished it would show her in its way, how to act. She wished she had perfumed her body with oils. Instead, she stood in front of Astrapi in a simple tunic she had changed into after helping to clean the House. What would the dress have done? Something complicated that involved slapping her legs
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Twenty: Dirk Returns
Ilyria froze. It could not be. Surely this was not her mother? The exquisite Daria Agrio? Ruin of souls. Torment of men and women. The old woman reached out a hand for the wall to steady herself. She looked up and Daria saw her eyes were pale and glassy. She seemed drugged, ill, dying even. She did not see Ilyria, or anything at all. Yet the lines of Daria’s beautiful face were still there, stark beneath the withered flesh but still recognizable. What had Dirk done to her mother? Say something, she told herself. This is your mother. But the nausea had returned, and she found herself unable to hold onto her thoughts. Something about a mother. Whose mother? My mother, this is my mother. Ilyria clutched the map to her chest as if it might still hold some of the protective magic from her father’s chambers. And maybe it did, because her head cleared a little. Her mother opened her mouth and Ilyria saw that all her pretty white teeth were gone, leaving only
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Twenty-One: An Urgent Plan
Ilryia clawed at the hands around her neck, her feet kicking out. She felt her face swelling with blood, her eyes streaming. She could barely see anymore, but she could see enough to know that that Dirk was no longer just Dirk. The strength in his one hand was terrifying. Her fingers could find no purchase on that iron grip. He squeezed tighter and a thought came to Ilyria of a twig snapping from a tree. He could kill her easily. But he was not done toying with her. “You stink of him,” said the Dirk-thing. “You stink like a whore.” He grinned Dirk’s grin with the snaggle-tooth catching his lower lip, but his eyes were not Dirk’s. Not even close. They were blacker than a starless night. She felt her head buzzing and her vision faded. She came to coughing and spluttering on the cold stone in front of Dirk’s boots. One boot reached back and almost in slow motion, it came toward her then connected with her jaw, sending her sprawling on her back. She heard a cry. She thou
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Twenty-Two: A Fortress in the Air
“We have to rescue them first. I have to go back,” said Ilyria, taking the map from Astrapi. As she began to roll it up, something caught her eye. She looked closely. At first, she thought it might be a smudge, but the line was clear not smudged. Then she thought it was a tracing, the faint ghost of a line left by the cartographer either when they were making this map or perhaps another with this one carelessly left underneath. Then, she knew. Excited, she scanned the map again. She found the ‘A’ in the top right corner of the map. “You said Benguzi is south, but this shows Benguzi as south-east?” Astrapi tilted his head in his questioning way, “What if this isn’t the real map?” “There is another map?” “Yes,” she said, “underneath this one. Imagine if the person who created the map of the lost cities wanted to keep it hidden, but they also wanted someone to find it.” “That doesn’t make sense,” said Astrapi. “Astrapi,” Ilyria tried not to let h
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Twenty-Three: Flying Machines and Izben
“Astrapi,” she whispered, trying not to panic at the sight of his pale face. He did not answer or look at her. “Astrapi,” she said again. He glanced at her quickly, then understanding what she needed, his hands worked to help her to loosen herself from the harness, still staring ahead. As soon as she was free, she turned to see what he was seeing. Now it was no longer so thrilling to be standing on a glass floor in the clouds. Now, she felt afraid and vulnerable. She felt in her pocket for the switchblade. Her eyes once again had to make the adjustment for the glass. From where she stood, she was staring into thunderclouds as dark as night. She could hardly make out any shapes at all until slowly the archway emerged and beneath the archway …She gasped and clutched at Astrapi’s arm. For she saw him now. A winged man, his outline barely visible against the dark clouds behind him. “Nemachi,” said Astrapi under his breath, his voice raspy with anger. Then, his fists clen
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Twenty-Four: The Whisperers
Ilyria clamped her hand over her mouth, trying not to call out to the man. He sounded so desperate, so afraid, she wanted to let him know he was not alone. But that voice inside her warned her to listen more closely. So, she did. She once more heard the man’s groan. But there was also something else underneath. She held her breath as she listened, trying to picture the silence as something physical, a curtain that only had to be pulled back. The man groaned again, and the whispers grew more excited. It was as if the whispers carried the sound of the man’s voice. That was it! Ilyria was certain the whisperers had replicated the sound and were trying to lure her away from the path she needed to take. Fumbling in the dark, she felt the walls around her. There was the path ahead, from which came the moans and the frightening whispers. And there was the path behind from which she had just come. There had to be an alternative. A path the whisperers did not want her to take.
Pinakabagong kabanata
- Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Seventy-Seven: One World
- Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Seventy-Six: Freedom
- Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Seventy-Five: The Shackled One
- Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Seventy-Four: A Reckoning
- Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Seventy-Three: Moon Dust
- Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Seventy-Two: True Relics
- Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Seventy-One: An Old Friend
- Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Seventy: Early
- Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Sixty-Nine: The Palace
