Heir To The Sky. Amanda Sun
isn’t anything like the rough drawings in the annals. It’s wild and beautiful, and so alive.
I take a deep breath, and wiggle my fingers. There’s a sharp pain when I turn my left wrist, and a pain in my chest when I breathe too deeply. But I’m alive, even if I’m injured.
I sit up slowly, my headache nearly knocking me down again. The spots in my eyes are clearing and the world is growing sharper.
I’ve landed in some sort of forest, though the trees are sparse and crooked. The whole floor of the woodland is covered in thick green-and-purple moss. Yellow-and-blue ferns unfurl in large floppy fans, and tiny sprigs of red flowers cluster like berries in the undergrowth.
The sour-sounding bird takes off with a rush of wings, his deep black feathers catching my eye as he soars past me. I look past him, up into the sky, to the looming dark island above. Ashra. It’s massive, even from so far away. Giant roots tangle through an upside-down pyramid of rich brown dirt that clings to the bottom of its rock bed. The edge of the continent is jagged and fractured from where Burumu and Nartu broke off. A mist of water pours like a thin cloud from the side of the continent, like a tiny tail of white that vanishes halfway down to the earth. The waterfall of Lake Agur.
The earth. I’m on the earth. My world, my friends, my father...they’re all high above on that floating continent, completely out of reach.
The thought jolts into me. The unrest in Burumu. The rebellion, the strange extra book and Aban’s key and his discussion with the lieutenant. My father has to know. How can I tell him now? Is he in danger?
I rub the side of my head with my right hand, the moss and tree needles matted in my hair. How long have I been out? A single night? A day or two? Do they know what’s happened to me? Elisha and Jonash would’ve gone for help right away. They’ll have the airships out looking by now.
But the airships have never flown this low. They’re bulky and unstable, difficult to maneuver. And finding me in this forest would be like finding a pika nest in the outlands, requiring more skill than the pilots have. They’re not even sure the ships would hold up to the difference in air pressure down here.
On top of that, it’s always been too risky to let the monsters know we’re still alive on the floating continents. Some of the beasts have wings and could be willing to fly up to devour what’s left of us.
My blood runs cold. The monsters. I’m like the unbelievers left behind in the illustration from the annals. It won’t take them long to find me. The annals said they can sniff out a human from miles away.
They’re probably already coming for me.
I rise to my feet in panic, but a deep, painful breath sends me tumbling down again. I cry out in agony and press my fingers against my ribs. My head twists to the side as I squeeze my eyes shut, tears stinging the corners. I’ve bruised my ribs, maybe broken them. I can’t outrun monsters like this.
I look around the sparse forest. I need some kind of shelter, some sort of safe place.
But there isn’t one. That’s why the Rending happened in the first place.
My heart thrums in my ears, the panic rising in my throat. Will the airships search for me? Will the people think a fall like that killed me? I shake my head. No—my father will look for me, I’m certain. He’ll hold out hope until the end. But he won’t find me in time. The earth is too vast. I wonder if I can even spot the airships from here. It doesn’t matter, because even if they could see me, they can’t retrieve me.
My every breath sounds earsplitting in the silence. No, I can’t give up. I’ve scaled rock bridges and swum closer to the waterfall of Ashra than any of the villagers in Ulan would dare. I’ve walked the edge of the outlands in the rainbow of fireflies hundreds of times before falling. One time, when Elisha and I were kids, we ran into a wild boar, and I chased it away with a stick while Elisha cried. I can do this. I won’t be defeated.
Safe places, I wonder. I could climb a tree. Can monsters climb? I’m sure some can, but anything’s better than sitting here on the ground like a pika on a platter.
I limp toward the nearest tree, resting my good wrist on the lowest branch. Hundreds of ants scurry up and down the splintered bark, but it’s no time to be squeamish. I press my sandaled foot against the trunk and wrap my other hand lightly around the branch. With a strong push I lift myself up. The pressure on my ribs and my left wrist make me cry out before I can stop myself, and I fall to the ground.
Tears of frustration burn in the corners of my eyes as I shake the ants off my fingers. I’ve climbed hundreds of trees on Ashra. Now, when my life depends on it, I’m helpless.
They’ll never find me in time, never find a way to reach me. But I can’t give up hope. I’m still alive, after all. I survived the fall.
I rise to my feet again, shaking the ants off the hem of my skirt. If I can’t climb the tree, then I need to find another way to hide myself. It’s been almost three hundred years. Maybe the monsters have all died away. Maybe they’ve forgotten about humans. Maybe there are still some sort of village ruins I can hide in until help comes.
If help comes.
I shake the thought away. There’s nothing to do right now but move forward. I walk along the edge of the trees, listening to the mournful songs of the birds, the rustling of the leaves. Surely if the monsters were near, the birds would stop singing, wouldn’t they? So as long as they sing, I’m safe.
I step past the wide leaves of the blue-and-yellow ferns and follow the line of trees toward the shadow cast by Ashra. The ground slopes down toward the gaping hole of missing land, where the floating island fit centuries ago. The land is jagged like the edges of a deep wound, sharp caverns and deep chasms. Nothing grows in the shadowlands, but on the edges, where the sunlight filters in, sprigs of hopeful trees and vines and weeds sprout in a desperate tangle.
It would be a good hiding place, but the road is steep down to the shadowed crater—climbing back up would be difficult. And the airships won’t see me underneath the continent. I imagine they’ll search the perimeter where I fell. Jonash will be able to show them the spot, so I shouldn’t stray too far.
I know they can’t reach me, but I cling to the hope anyway. It’s all I have.
I walk along the perimeter of the steep hillside for a while, listening carefully, watching my step, watching the skies. The Phoenix is with me, I think. She wouldn’t let her heir be extinguished. It’s a test and also maybe a blessing. I’ve always wanted to see the earth, and it’s every bit as wild and breathtaking as I’ve imagined.
The forest is full of insects I’ve never seen before, long iridescent bugs that beat two or three pairs of wings as they float from one strange plant to another. A tiny yellow lizard with a bright and glittering blue tail spreads out on the wide leaves of the ferns. And the breeze, that strange wind, carries warmth and heat in it. Surely it must be still warm from the flames of the Phoenix tossing Ashra and her lands sky bound. There’s no other explanation I can think of. The winds on Ashra are cold, but we’re closer to the sun, so the reason must be residual heat left from the Phoenix’s ashen sacrifice.
I walk along the perimeter of the forest for what seems like hours. There’s no end to the wild lands, no place I can find shelter or a clearing to wave at the airships if they come.
My stomach growls, and I tense at the sound. How long has it been since I’ve eaten? I think of the honeyed chicken and the puffed cakes at the festival. I reach into my pockets but only find the small piece of flint Elisha passed me with the lantern in the outlands.
I look around the sparse forest, wondering if there’s anything I can eat. The clusters of tiny red berries cling to the moss underfoot, and I wonder if they’re safe or poisonous. A bird calls out in the sky. Maybe I could take a fallen branch and whittle it with the flint to make a spear. But I’ve never had to hunt before. I’m not sure if I’d know how to lance a bird.
I bend down and wrap my fingers around a bunch of the berries,