Silverwing Read Online Free Page B

with him. Now though, knowing about how he died, he felt a frail spider’s thread running between them. He was just a runt, but he’d wanted to see the sun, just like his father.
    He was catching his breath after a spectacular dive-bomb when he felt a rush of air around him, and looked to see Frieda settling beside him.
    “Tell me about the sun,” she said.
    His tongue felt too heavy. The chief elder of the colony stared with those piercing eyes. Her wings creaked as she folded them against her body, and he was aware of a slightly musty odor rising off her, the smell of age, he supposed. But she smiled at him, and her face wrinkled at the eyes, and Shade felt less nervous.
    “Well, I saw it,” he began hesitantly, and then stumbled on and told her everything he could remember. It wasn’t much, but he was eager to tell it, delighted really. His mother certainly didn’t care. Frieda listened carefully, nodding now and then.
    “You’ve seen it too, haven’t you?” he asked impulsively.
    “You’re right, I have. A long time ago.”
    “It’s round, isn’t it, like the moon?”
    “Yes. But bigger.”
    He shook his head in amazement. He couldn’t even imagine the brightness of it.
    “You just wanted to see it, then? Like me?” he asked Frieda.
    She nodded. “When I was younger, a lot of us did. Some were willing to die for it. Not like now. They don’t care. They might think the law is unfair, but they aren’t willing to fight it. Like Bathsheba. And in many ways they’re wise. Look at your father, look what almost happened to you and Ariel.”
    “How come we’re not allowed to see it? I mean, I know it’s the law, but why?”
    “We’re banished creatures, Shade, and have been for millions of years.”
    “Banished?”
    “Punished, sent away.”
    “For what? What did we do?”
    “It’s easier if you hear for yourself. Come with me.”

T HE E CHO C HAMBER
    Last dawn Shade had traveled to the summit of Tree Haven, and now Frieda was leading him to its very depths. They spiraled down the length of the great trunk, and Shade again marveled at the sheer size of the tree. Down and down until they landed on the mossy bottom. He was aware of how much cooler it was, and the strong smell of soil and wood. He thought he’d explored every winding inch of Tree Haven, every passageway and hollow, but he’d never noticed this small archway of gnarled wood, which Frieda was scuttling toward on all fours.
    He followed her through, and down, and instantly he knew he was beneath the earth. His echoes bounced harshly against the walls of the narrow passageway.
    “Here we are,” said Frieda up ahead.
    The floor of the tunnel fell away, and Shade gladly opened his wings and swooped down into a large cave. He felt the cold seeping through the stone walls and thought: winter. And then he heard the wind—or at least he thought it was wind. But as he flared his ears, listened harder, he realized it was voices hewas hearing, bat voices, so many of them, mumbling, mumbling, over one another, like a ghostly breeze through leaves. It made the flesh beneath his fur crawl.

    The floor of the tunnel swept away, and Shade gladly opened his wings and swooped down into a larger cave.
    “Who’s down there?” he asked, faltering.
    “Nobody,” said Frieda. “I’ll show you.”
    “There’re voices …”
    “You’ll see. This way.”
    Frieda led him deeper still, down to the bottom of the cave, and then landed on a narrow ledge. In a small niche in the rough stone Shade saw a panel of mud and mulched-up leaves. The voices were coming from behind it.
    “Quickly now,” Frieda told him, and pushed through the soft center of the panel with her nose.
    He didn’t know what to expect. Maybe a mournful chorus of ghosts, maybe only one with a thousand weeping mouths. He found himself in a surprisingly small, completely round, and totally deserted cave. But it wasn’t truly deserted. All around him, like currents of warm air,