A Whisper of Wings Read Free Page B

fetch some proper clothes. We’ll not try your solo again today. You may take Shadarii’s place as the leader of the aerial ballet.”
    With an insolent sneer, Javïra swooped over to her abandoned pile of clothes. Traveesha’s long hands rubbed together in satisfaction; discipline had once more been upheld.
    “There now! No more dramas for the day. We’ll start afresh with gaiety and devotion, shall we? We have rightfully seen that personal initiatives have no place within an ordered set of forms…”
    A shriek of horror ripped through the air, and Shadarii lowered her long lashes in exquisite pleasure. Javïra’s squeals were pure balm to the soul; the girl hopped absurdly on one leg as she frantically plucked a slug from inside her loincloth, then slipped and fell on her backside in a handy pool of mud.
    Girls swapped astonished glances, only to see Shadarii laughing silently behind them. Her face fell as she suddenly met Traveesha’s gaze.
    “Shadarii! Go and tend the drums.”
    Mistress Traveesha’s wings spread wide in threat. Shadarii backed away, Traveesha coldly following her with anger in her eyes.
    “Now! Go on!”
    Shadarii simply turned and fled. The other women watched her with contempt, and a lean black dancer petulantly thumbed her snout.
    “Good riddance! P’raps she’ll fly away and leave us be!”
    “Hmph! With a build like that, I’m surprised the beast can even fly!”
    “I don’t care whose daughter she is, I still say she’s no dancer!”
    Javïra wandered back with her clothes clutched against her breast, glaring bitterly towards the forest.
    “We can make her want to leave! I say we push her out. There’s no place for cripples here!”
    Traveesha wagged a finger in admonishment.
    “Now now! She has a wild flair for shaping ïsha. Her ability is really quite entrancing.”
    “Well I’m sick of her! Just keep the little skreg away from me!”
    “We shall do as best we may, my sweet, but we must all be a little tolerant. Shadarii is slightly different from the rest of us. The poor girl deserves our pity.”
    Javïra made a spiteful face.
    “Oh yes - Pity. Let’s pity poor dear Shadarii.” She spoke so that her acid voice would carry clean across the clearing.
    “Poor poor Shadarii!”
     
     
    Nestled in amongst the forest eaves, the Springtime settlement of the Swallowtails spread like beehives off into the night. In the boughts high, high above, the treehuses shone with the light of lamps and candlefire. The houses gathered into clumps and drifts like stars high in the sky - hundreds of households ringing with the noises of village even time. Children played while women tended to the evening meals; girls laid aside their work clothes and dressed themselves in painted skirts and shining beads. The whole forest filled with life as a warm moon arose to spill its silver light across the trees.
    Of all the houses in the settlement, none were as tall, as stark and perfect as the house of Nochorku-Zha. The family of Chief Nochorku were quite comfortably well off. They owned a number of fruit orchards and groves of succulent yams. Each noble house received a tithe taken from the common villagers. As ruler of clan Swallow-Tail, Nochorku-Zha had been given many gifts over the long years of his reign. Every day fresh presents were brought by supplicants who sought his good opinion. Nochorku-Zha’s two daughters had been well provided for.
    There was metal enough to waste on sheer frivolities. A real iron pot bubbled on the stove, and an iron skillet hissed and spat above the coals. In the branches high above the sheltered hearth, the family tree lodge was wide and luxurious. It broadcast a statement of refined good taste and carefully preserved austerity;. Nochorku had created a unique expression of his own unsmiling personality.
    Shadarii returned home with the lengthening of the shadows. She fluttered miserably down to tend the hearth, her heart still crying out with hurt from her