Rocco's Wings Read Free Page A

like a different pair. One had a rounder face. They were talking, not paying attention to him or the white robes below.
    Rocco turned back to the game. These young urvogels were friendly, nice to each other, the way they bantered back and forth. With his eyes shut they might have been human children playing in the village yard.
    Twice more that afternoon Rocco’s back stiffened as he heard Air Marshal boots clap along the wall. Each time he held his breath, watching as the plumed helmets ducked under the branch, disappeared for a period, only to reappear moments later in the corner tower. Only then could he breathe freely again.
    The sunlight faded. Light began to flicker from the white robes’ wings. So their feathers were bioluminescent just like the Air Marshals’ wings.
    The white robes had stopped playing. They walked over and sat down beneath a tree at the edge of the cobbled path. They were beautiful. Wheat Hair, Middle Boy and Girl were aligned in a row, their wings all angled the same way. Small One was lying on his back in front of them. He was talking and waving his arms.
    They looked like a flock of giant birds. They didn’t look cruel. Maybe that quality only came out when their queen was around, or maybe when one of them was sick or weak or about to die? Did they fall on each other, buzzing around their victim in a frenzy?
    Rocco glanced back at his own wings. At least the sand was still sticking to his feathers. He could hide easily enough during the day, but without the sand covering, his wings would be as bright as a beacon.
    He scuttled back on his branch. Wrapping his arms around the tree trunk he swung down to the ground outside the wall.
    It was late. He began to run. Moments later he reached the cliffs. The moon hung low. The sky was full of pale stars casting a soft glow over the swaying grass below.
    Did all their looking down from the cliffs make urvogels think they were better than humans, Rocco wondered, gazing down. Well, they were superior. They had wings.
    The wind, cooler now that the sun had fallen, blew against his face. Surely there was some advantage to living on the ground, he thought scanning the Endless Plains, to the left and right.
    With a jump, he dropped feet first over the edge. Wings half open to guide his descent, he glided down. At the bottom he found another patch of sand and rolled around once more. The sky was clear, so he set off for the lonely tree.
    The tree’s long shadow fell on the ground. He flew up to his earlier spot. He lay back, listening to his heart thump as he stared up at the darkened ridge of the city wall.
    He’d actually done it! He’d seen something no human had ever seen -- young urvogels playing inside the city. A vein in his neck began to throb.
    As he continued to watch, one urvogel then another flew into the sky above the city. A dozen more flew up. They circled each other, at first randomly then separating themselves into lines.
    The lines rose, gaining altitude as they ascended. The urvogels at the top touched hands, or so it appeared, before spiraling down with their wings tucked.
    They were sky dancing!
    For a moment they disappeared behind the wall, then up they flew again. Wings flickered, then grew bright, as if they were signalling. Higher and higher they flew as the sequence began again.
    How could such glorious creatures be so cruel? Lions were beautiful. Sometimes male lions killed each other’s cubs. But there was a point to that slaughter — so the village teacher said. Male lions were trying to drive the she-lion into heat so she could bear his offspring. That was cruel but it sort of made sense, at least in a lion’s head.
    The urvogels weren’t surfacing any more. The dance was over. The sky was dark. Pushing off his branch, Rocco flew out over the plains. The sight of them, it ravished his eyes. Was it some kind of trick to make him forget that they were treacherous?
    His limbs wouldn’t stop quivering. Jafari wasn’t going