Darkwing Read Free Page B

forbidden from going down any farther. Dusk sighted a wood nymph fluttering for the shade of the forest. He decided he had enough time before having to land.
    He timed his attack perfectly. His mouth was just opening to snatch up the moth’s dark thorax when he felt a gust of heat against his belly. It pushed him up into the air and spun him off to one side so that his right sail collapsed. He tumbled for a half-second before managing to level off. He was startled, but not afraid. He knew he’d just hit a thermal, one of the columns of hot air that sometimes rose from the ground at midday. This one was surprisingly strong.
    He circled tightly and cast about for the wood nymph. It was already above him. There’d be no catching it now. Chiropters could only glide down, never up. His ears twitched in irritation.
    The Lower Reach was before him, and he glided in to make a sturdy if not exactly elegant landing. With practice, his technique had improved over the months. He reviewed his prey count. He could scarcely believe it. It was strong. Very strong. Would have been one stronger if he hadn’t hit that thermal. He wondered how Sylph and the others had done.
    As he waited, he peered down to the forest floor. Fifty feet below was a dense tangle of tea and laurel shrubs, ferns and horsetails. He tasted the air with his tongue: a humid funk of leaves and flowers, rotting vegetation and sun-baked mud—and urine. He’d never set claw down there. All sorts of four-legged groundlings lived amidst the undergrowth, foraging and burrowing. According to his father, they were mostly harmless, though a few weren’t very friendly. Luckily none of them could climb trees. If you listened you could hear them scuffling and snuffling, and occasionally he’d make out their dark furtive shapes.
    Aeolus came in to land, quickly followed by Sylph and Jib.
    “How did everyone do?” Dusk asked cheerfully.
    “Not good,” said Aeolus. “Just eight.”
    “Thirteen,” said Sylph, preening. It was an excellent count.
    “Twelve,” muttered Jib.
    Dusk waited a delicious moment. “Fifteen,” he said. “What?” Aeolus exclaimed. “You did not get fifteen!” Jib said.
    “My brother doesn’t lie,” Sylph said, and Dusk saw the fur lifting on the back of her neck.
    “It was pure luck,” said Dusk, trying to avoid a scrap. Sylph could be combustible. “There was a cloud of something justhatched. I glided right through it and took six all at once! They were tiny.”
    “Count it as one, then,” grumbled Jib. Dusk said nothing, but refused to break Jib’s angry stare.
    “It counts as six,” Sylph said firmly. “It’s fair.”
    Jib hunched his shoulders at Dusk. “If you weren’t the leader’s son, you’d probably have ended up like Cassandra.”
    “The newborn who died?” Sylph asked. “What’re you talking about, Jib?”
    “Didn’t you ever see her? She looked even weirder than Dusk. Her mother stopped nursing her.”
    “Why?” Dusk asked, horrified.
    “She was a freak,” said Jib with a shrug. “Her body was all wrong. They took her down to the dying branch and left her.”
    Dusk felt chilled through his fur and skin. The dying branch was a place he’d never visited. It jutted out low down, from the shady side of the tree, and was half veiled by hanging moss. It was where the sick or very old went when they knew they were going to die.
    “They say you can still see her bones,” Jib said, looking straight at Dusk. “Want to go see?”
    “Are you saying there’s something wrong with Dusk?” Sylph shouted at Jib.
    “No,” Jib muttered, taking a step back from her. “But I heard he probably would’ve been driven out of the colony, because of his sails and—”
    “You are such a bad loser, Jib,” Sylph said in disgust. “Get lost.”
    Jib snorted. “Congratulations on your lucky win, Furless. Come on, Aeolus, let’s go.”
    Dusk watched the two newborns begin the long climb back to their hunting