War Bird

20. All You Got to Offer Me.

“No, please!” My words wake me. I’m dripping with sweat and my legs are tangled in the bedsheets, which are a total mess. The dorm is pitch-dark, the air filled with the sighs and murmurs of sleeping girls. Man, my heart is pounding like it wants to smash my ribs apart. I take some deep breaths and run a hand across my forehead. I had another dream, a fuzzy and panicked one. Something about my Dad, trying to drag me through a hole whilst my mum and Ribbon watched silently as I screamed and fought. Horrible. I lean back against the headboard and wait for my heart rate to get normal.

I stand up and rearrange the bedsheets, but they feel so damp I don’t want to get back in. My skin is sticky and warm, so I grab my towel and start for the showers, maybe a quick rinse will make me feel better. Just as I reach the door, something stops me. It’s not a sound or a smell... more like a feeling. A feeling so strong it makes me dump my towel back in my trunk and head out of the dorms to the tunnels. I pass the Medical Bay, where the lights have been dimmed to allow patients to sleep. Night-shift healers walk amongst them, pale faces calm and watchful. I tiptoe past and continue on to the main lobby area. Now I can hear hushed voices, hurried footsteps. Somehow, I know I’m not meant to be seeing this, so I press myself against the wall.

The big doors to the surface are easing shut. A small group of men in the dark blue of the Kestrel uniform have clearly just got back from an outing of some kind. I recognise Clay, the guy who ate breakfast with Ed today. His face is smeared with dirt, a large gash down his arm. He looks pretty triumphant though.

“I can’t believe we lost Hardy,” a blonde-haired Kestrel says, wiping his brow.

“A good man.” Clay rests a hand on his shoulder and jerks his head at someone behind him. “Thank goodness for Smith.”

Smith?

My mouth hangs open as from behind Clay, Ed staggers forward, a large grey package draped over his shoulder. I can’t work out what it is, but judging by the respect in the Kestrel’s faces as Ed lowers it to the floor, it must be something really important. Or dangerous. Or both. I shiver. What the hell was Ed doing out on some night-time mission? Just this afternoon, he was worried that this very thing might happen and now, look at him. One of the boys. 

“Don’t mention it,” Ed gasps as he gently lets go of the package. It’s about four feet long, kind of thick, like a log.  But he’s treating it as if it’s made of glass, like it might shatter or explode, or- what if it’s a bomb? A magic bomb?

“Seriously.” Clay moves to Ed’s side. “The attack on Hardy was... well it was a blitz. And you were only supposed to be acting as a look out. But the way you just leapt in and picked up his load.” He gestures at the package. “Incredible. You’ve got chops.”

“Yeah, well, I knew it was important.” Ed shrugs, looking at his feet, but I can tell even from this distance that he is loving this moment. When was the last time someone called him out on a job well done? I don’t even know. As I look at my friend’s beaming, tired face, I’m almost jealous. He’s done something impressive, and all I’ve managed so far is to cry like a baby.

“Right, I need to get this patched.” Clay lifts his injured arm. “Ainsley?”

“Sir?” Ainsley is the blond Kestrel who spoke first.

 “I’m off to the Bay. You and Smith get to the Rookery, use the secure rooms there. You two-” he looks at the other Kestrels who are still catching their breath. “Get some rest. We’ll be making a full report to the Commanders in the morning.”

                                                                            **

It's the day of the social, and it's quieter than yesterday. I’m pleased by this. After what I saw last night, my head was full of questions, so many that I couldn’t sleep. I’d had to spend a good couple of hours reading the book on runes to try and bore myself unconscious.