Wingborn Read Online Free Page A

suddenly shouted, startling her into stepping back.
“I’ m too busy to watch over the likes of you. Think
you ’ re the first to come
sniffing ‘ round here,
wanting a gander? Ever since that fool proclamation I ’ ve been booting them out ten times
a day. Get along with you. This ain ’ t no place for bored little ladies. ” Snatching up his bucket, he
stepped into the eyries and slammed the door in her face.
    “ Little?” she gasped in astonishment. “ Little! I ’ m taller than you, you
scrawny, mannerless git! ” Fuming, she spun on the spot and almost tripped
over her skirt.
    Honestly, it was enough to make a lady growl
in public. Behaviour that would be thoroughly frowned upon by her
sister, but then Mhysra had never pretended to be a lady. Milluqua
was a natural who wore her breeding like a fine set of pearls.
Mhysra had to work extra hard at it, and mostly didn ’ t see the point.
    So she growled and stomped her foot for good
measure. When her soft-soled walking boots failed to make a
satisfactory enough sound, she kicked a stone over the edge of the
cliff. Then felt stupid when her toes started to throb.
    “I hate
Nimbys.”
    Hiking up her skirt, she strode over to the
nearest boulder and sat on it, glaring down at the city. Narrow,
winding and cramped, this view of Nimbys would never win any
awards, but then the dwellings directly below her belonged to some
of the poorest people in Imercian. Unlike the far edge of the
ravine, which was dotted with sprawling mansions, and one or two
even had gardens, which was the ultimate luxury in such a cramped
city. Up there the wealthy made the most of the elusive sun, but
back here, where the light so rarely reached, the tenements of
Nimbys were squeezed in tight and built up high.
    Reminded of her privileged position in life,
and feeling worse than ever, Mhysra turned and shielded her eyes
against the glare of the Stratys Palace. White marble, imported
from the south at great expense, glowed in the midmorning sun. An
architectural wonder, many said, but Mhysra hated it. Just as she
hated everything else about this accursed city.
    She stared across the ravine to the opposite
ridge and sighed. There was another eyrie over there, barely even a
barn – smaller, squatter, with holes in the roof and rot in the
walls. Cumulo was inside it, hunched and miserable, trying not to
complain. How she wished he was with her now. How she wished he
could do this instead of her.
    But he couldn ’ t, so she must. She had to do this, for him as much
as herself. She had to get him out of that fetid building and into
this one. If she could gain official access for herself at the same
time, so much the better.
    Patting her jacket pocket, Mhysra felt
reassured by the crinkle of folded newspaper within and stood up.
The city buzzed with talk about the fall of Feather Frost and the
attacks on Kevian ’ s
Edge, Heston Point and Shune. The Flying Corps were in trouble,
people said, that ’ s why
the big changes. There hadn ’ t been an opportunity like this for a hundred
years. Perhaps there wouldn ’ t be another for a hundred more. She had to seize
this chance or she might as well stay on the ground forever. It was
time.
    Dusting off her skirt, she straightened her
jacket and took a deep breath. According to the newspaper in her
pocket, more than a century ’ s worth of regulation, sexism and prejudice had
been overturned. Now it was time to see if any of it was true.
    It was time to join the Rift Riders.
    Courage mustered, Mhysra marched towards the
headquarters and pushed open the door. Stepping inside the spacious
foyer, she quickly located the front desk, piled high with
paperwork. That ’ s when
she noticed that the entrance hall was full of Rift Riders, who
fell silent at her entrance. While she stood hesitating in the
doorway, man after man turned to look at her. Then the whispering
started.
    An audience. How lovely. There would be no
turning back now.
    Running a nervous