A Flight of Broken Wings: Aeriel Trilogy #1

Chapter 3

Ruban shook his head. "We'll cross that bridge when it comes. For now, it's the feather mafia we need to deal with. They're attacking Aeriels anywhere they can find 'em, conducting full-fledged Hunts in populated areas – markets and residential neighborhoods.

"Even a week ago, their activities were confined to Ragah. Now, they're targeting the suburbs as well." He gritted his teeth, his gaze flickering over to the sitting room, where Hiya had gone back to her planes. "Innocents are dying, caught in the crossfire of someone else's war. And there isn't a damn thing we can do about it.

"The Hunter Corps is supposed to protect the people from Aeriel threats. And look at us now. Aeriels are helping human criminals Hunt down their own kind, blowing everything in the vicinity to smithereens. And despite all their big talk, nobody in the IAW has the slightest idea how to deal with it. We've never faced anything like this before."

"Baan!" The shrill voice cut through his thoughts as Hiya bounced back into the kitchen, her braids swaying from side to side. "Stop hogging Ashwin. I need him for my planes, I told you that." She grabbed the Aeriel's wrist and pulled him out into the sitting room.

Shelving the last of the newly-washed dishes, Ruban followed them out of the kitchen. "The only thing you need right now is to go to bed, Hiya. You have school tomorrow."

"I do. And I'll have it every day for the rest of eternity," she retorted. "As opposed to Ashwin, who only comes here twice a week, if we're lucky. Maybe if you stopped fighting with him all the time, he'd stick around longer and we can work on my planes in the afternoon."

"The Aeriel's bubbleheaded flightiness isn't my fault."

"No?" Ashwin arched an eyebrow, dropping to sit cross-legged on the floor, in front of the scattered parts of a sea-green airplane. "Maybe if you were a little less bubbleheaded about apprehending these thugs, I wouldn't have to spend all my time luring them away from public places and trying to keep them from lopping off my wings."

"They wouldn't really do that, would they?" Hiya squinted doubtfully at Ashwin before turning to Ruban. Her voice shook slightly. "Cut off his wings, I mean. The seniors at school were saying that the mafia Hunt Aeriels to cut off their wings and sell 'em at auctions."

Ruban frowned. "Hiya, that's not–"

"Sure it is," Ashwin intervened. "Aeriel feathers are expensive. And rare. So if a gang can get enough of them, they can make a neat profit on the black market."

Ruban glared at Ashwin, biting his tongue to stem the flow of expletives that threatened to spill out.

"What?" Ashwin asked, his attention on the model airplane he was fixing. "She has friends. An internet connection. And more than two brain cells to rub together, unlike some people I know. She's going to find out one way or another, whether we tell her or not. The only difference is that now, she'll come to us with her questions, instead of some gossip-mongering high-schoolers."

"But what would anybody do with them?" Hiya insisted, shifting closer to Ashwin. "Your feathers, I mean. They can't be that rare if all the Aeriels have them."

Ashwin chuckled. "Well, it's the Aeriels having them that's the problem, I suppose." His wings materialized around him, encircling Hiya and pulling her closer into the fluffy cocoon.

Hiya giggled, nuzzling closer to Ashwin. He reached over her head and plucked a feather from the edge of his wing. He held it up against the light of the wall-lamp. Ruban squinted, watching the feather sparkle where the light hit its iridescent surface.

Ashwin held out his other hand, his gaze expectant.

"What do you want?" Ruban asked warily.

"Your lighter, of course."