Page 5 of Glass Wings

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“Don’t be fooled, ma’am. I am happy to take your coin, but his lack of aggression outweighs his sheer size,” the Lanista, the owner of all the men in the room, shared with her privately.

“I am sure. You will sell me the one I requested.” She showed clean, pearly white teeth, a symbol of royalty or great wealth. The man fumbled, nodding at her in haste as she drew out a bag of coins, setting it in the Lanista’s open palm.

“You there,” she said, meeting Arryn’s disinterested gaze. “You will leave your belongings and come with me.”

Arryn felt his will bending; not that he would have resisted, as it would have drawn too much attention to himself. He stood up and placed a hand on Fabius’s shoulder as a farewell gesture. He would miss his young friend.

“The rest of you may resume as you were,” the woman puffed under her breath as the room resumed its general chatter.

“Will you be taking him back to China, ma’am? Will he be used in the trade routes?” the Magistri asked.

“My payment was not contingent on answers to questions,” she mused, pulling her hood back over her head and looking up at Arryn as he approached. He leaned forward, bending into a small bow.

“No time for that,” she snapped, “we must leave at once.” She turned and walked out through the open doors that led into the training arena. Arryn followed, hearing the thud of the heavy wooden doors closing behind him.

He continued after her, leaving ample space in between their bodies to keep up with the characters they were playing, still hiding their true nature from wandering eyes as they approached the exit gates.

The three soldiers, fellow senior gladiators who were upper-class freemen looking for glory, halted their conversation to focus on the woman walking toward them. They straightened up and bowed their heads, pointing beyond the gate as a signal that they were free to go.

Once they both had walked through, they faced a singular dirt path leading to the staged fighting Colosseum. Arryn could see its greatness in the distance, an unthinkably large arena adorned with the hand-sculpted statues of the Roman gods and goddesses. The Colosseum was surrounded by fine cobblestone and full, green fig trees with foot traffic all around.

“It looks like you will have to miss your first performance,” Reign said to Arryn, whirling around to face him. She smiled, such a familiar and reassuring sight that Arryn couldn’t help but return the enthusiasm. Reign was the closest thing he had to a best friend, a sister. She had always been there to be playful, to be brutally honest, and she never once had ever held back when telling Arryn exactly how wrong he was.

“They wouldn’t have put me in. The competing gladiators would have been offended to fight someone with my skill set. I worked hard to present an image. I protected a boy.”

The two walked three miles up the hill, and the city presented itself before them. Plush bushes and smaller trees surrounded them, smelling of sweet plums.

Arryn’s skin began to burn with an invisible fire once again. He twitched his fingers, trying to hide that agony from the Kinnari woman in front of him.

“When was the last time you unleashed your talents?” she askedhim. They exited the path into the coverage of the trees as carts and pedestrians could be seen coming up the trail. “It does not matter.” She pursed her lips. “Arryn, I am hungry, and these plums will not do. You will bestow upon me an apple tree with the sweetest red apples I will ever taste.”

Arryn gave her a look of extreme annoyance and disapproval. She could see the fight in his eyes to ignore her command. If there was one being able to do it on this mortal Earth, it would likely be him. Sadly, he still needed another millennium of practice to strengthen his will and accomplish that resistance. He stiffened as her magic took hold, bending him to her need.

He bent down, touching the trunk of a grown plum tree. Reign watched as the genetic makeup of the tree changed in front of her eyes. The leaves fell swiftly, forming piles, as new circular leaves with a deeper pigment of green emerged. Flowers grew and bloomed within seconds, and forty or so apples blossomed. They were small and green at first. Reign reached out her hand, grabbing the fruit as it finished growing and ripening to a lovely bright red. She plucked it off its branch and brought it to her lips, smelling the sweetness before taking a bite.

“I wouldn’t believe you if you told me that you feel lighter,” Reign mocked, her grin full of glory and pride.

It was true, Arryn did feel better. The fire under his skin had evaporated. While he was familiar with how his body reacted to his refusal of creation, unleashing himself back into the earth had always made him feel reborn.

“Now then,” Reign continued, leaving the apple tree behind her. “I must know what the crime was this time. What was the cause of this particularly creative self-punishment? Enslaving yourself? How you were not sold to the mines is beyond me, but I suppose mortals always seem to sense that there is a value to you,” she mused. Arryn could see the gears in her head spinning as her eyes wandered to the distant veranda.

“Pain. I seem only to bring Allienna pain,” Arryn replied, his heart shattered.

“Allienna pulls inside what someone is feeling. They become her feelings. If you hurt, Allienna should choose to pull that pain away from you as she has always done,” Reign said, repeating information that was neither comforting nor new.

“This time, it was different,” Arryn admitted, his fingers sparking as he flicked his fingers out of the frustration of the memory. “This time, she wanted a child. A real child that grows in her belly.”

Reign turned sharply, eyes fixed on Arryn’s.

“She’s never told me about that desire.”

“She has not told anyone. It is shameful to her. We have tried for hundreds of years to make a child organically. True Kinnari wombs are . . .”

“They are not made to create. We don’t bleed as mortal women do,” Reign cut in.

“I tried to create a child inside her womb. I thought I could do this since I pull atoms together, creating something new. I was wrong.”

“She miscarried. She must have,” Reign said softly, eyes lined with tears, as she knew too well the burden of infertility.