Victor of Tucson

Rano and a few of his sergeants hung around in the courtyard while Victor prepared to leave. He’d summoned Guapo, and Uvu prowled around the courtyard, well aware that something was going on. He kept sniffing the air, chuffing, and pacing near the stairs leading into Victor’s travel home. Victor figured the big cat knew Valla was awake and would emerge soon, probably alerted through their bond. While he waited for her, Victor took some time to go through the big storage rings he’d taken from Karl.

One was full of supplies—barrels of lamp oil, timbers, iron brackets, bolts, and pins, along with the tools that would be used to put them together. When Victor showed Rano, he suggested they were for building siege equipment. Victor shook his head, bewildered. “Why wouldn’t the idiot use some of this stuff?”

Rano shrugged. “Perhaps he was overconfident in the power of his giants. Perhaps he didn’t realize you laid in wait.”

Another of the rings was filled with more disturbing things. There were dozens of sealed casks within, and when Victor took one out and hammered it open, he found it full of blood. There were huge crates stuffed with body parts, from human limbs and skin to organs. Victor grew disgusted in his perusal and handed the ring off to Rano, “Build bonfires near the sea and burn these things.”

“Aye, sir.”

In the last of the storage rings, Victor found more personal things—clothes, armor, notebooks, weapons, and myriad disgusting things that could only have been trophies or mementos. The latter ranged from fingers in velvet-lined jewelry boxes to large portions of human skin mounted to frames meant for hanging on a wall. Scanning through them, Victor didn’t find anything that interested him other than some sacks of beads numbering in the hundreds of thousands. He took those and, again, handed the ring to Rano. “You can distribute the weapons and armor as awards to those who need them, but I’d like you to destroy the disgusting trophies.”

“Trophies?”

“Yeah, I think that sick asshole kept parts of, I dunno, victims or maybe friends to display. You’ll see what I mean.”

“I’ll see it’s done, sir.” Rano was mid-salute when he suddenly gasped and took a step back, eyes on something over Victor’s shoulder. Uvu made a funny rumbling, yawning sound, and Victor knew Valla had emerged. He turned to her, face lighting up with affection. He caught his breath, much like Rano, when he saw her standing there on the stoop of his travel home, her wings partially extended, catching the morning sunlight in a spectacular shimmer of silver and soft green-blue iridescence. She was tall, powerful, and sharp-looking in her snug black uniform pants, well-shined boots, and white, tucked-in uniform shirt.

Victor had helped her to trim some holes in the backs of her shirts for her wings, and they seemed to have worked well. Midnight hung from her waist on her sword belt, and Valla had donned a shiny, silver breastplate that covered her chest and matched her helmet. To him, she looked like a Valkyrie or angel, girded for war. When she met his eyes with those spectacular silver and teal irises awash with the rich, warm sunlight, he felt he could forget everything in the world and simply stare at her. Then she smiled, and he wanted nothing more than to rush over to her, hold her, and kiss her.

Of course, Victor knew none of that would be cool with Valla, not with the soldiers gathering in the courtyard and on the ramparts to stare. Silence had fallen over the keep like a blanket; everyone was still, stunned by the appearance of a creature only vague legends alluded to. Valla wasn’t one to speak much in the best of times; she didn’t like attention focused on her, and Victor could tell this was a struggle for her. Nonetheless, she squared her shoulders and spoke into the courtyard. Her voice, while still hers, was loud and powerful, and it carried well—she’d been trained to address troops, after all.

“Soldiers, I thank you for guarding me well while I went through my bloodline evolution! As you can see, I’ve brought forth the aspect of one of my more distant ancestors—she was an Ordeni and, more than that, a proud carrier of the Rihven bloodline. Look upon me and behold the last of a people who once walked among the Shadeni and Ardeni—a people who stood up to the Ridonne and were exterminated for their trouble. Now, enough gawking! Back to your work! Guard this keep well in our absence!”

It became apparent that the soldiers weren’t sure how to react. Some cheered, some clapped, some did as she said—stopped gawking and got back to work, and some kept staring, unable to wipe the stupefaction from their faces. Victor broke the spell on Rano by walking between him and Valla, holding out his hand to take hers. “You look great.”

“Thank you, love.” She took his hand and stepped down to the cobbles where Uvu paced, rubbing his long, furry body against her as he circled with repeated, rumbling chuffs vibrating his chest. “Hi, Uvu, sweet boy,” she cooed, rubbing his head and massaging his fuzzy ears. Looking at her with the cat, Victor wasn’t so sure he’d serve very well as a mount. Valla had sort of outgrown him. He wondered if that mattered now that she had wings. Would she be able to fly further than the Ghelli? Her wings were undoubtedly much larger. He wondered how that would work—didn’t birds have hollow bones and a skeletal structure designed to support flight? He knew for a fact that Valla was no lighter than before. In fact, she was heavier . . .

“Anything else, sir?” Rano asked, finally having found his voice, interrupting Victor’s musing.

“No, I don’t think so. We’ll be off shortly.”

“In that case, I’ll make my rounds. It’s wonderful to see you, Tribune Primus.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Valla smiled, looking up from the affections she was pouring onto Uvu.

As Rano saluted and walked away, Victor asked, “What will you do about this big boy? I suppose you can still ride him, but your feet might touch the ground . . .”

“He’ll follow at his own pace. If not a mount, he’s a boon companion.” She hugged the giant cat around his neck. “Aren’t you, big soft boy?” The great cat yawned hugely, exposing six-inch fangs by way of reply.

Victor clicked his tongue, and Guapo, golden and proud in his glory-attuned form, walked closer to the small group. “I’ll pack up the house—you’re done in there?”

“For now, aye.” Valla’s words were muffled, her face still buried in the fur of Uvu’s neck. Victor chuckled, rested a hand on the travel home’s front stoop rail, and mentally issued the command to compress. A few minutes later, home securely fastened to his belt, he hopped onto Guapo’s back and held his hand down for Valla, swinging her up behind him. As they trotted out of the courtyard and through the bailey, Victor was surprised and a little embarrassed to see Rano and all of his soldiers lined up to watch them depart.

He sat up straight and, not wanting to look like some kind of dopey nobleman or something, didn’t wave. He just locked eyes with as many soldiers as possible, nodding his appreciation. He wasn’t sure how Valla responded to the attention, but he felt her shifting behind him and figured she might be waving or saluting. When they exited the outer gate, Victor urged Guapo to pick up the pace, and soon, they were trotting down the steep, winding road toward the beach. “Hey,” he called over his shoulder, “when are you going to try flying?”

“When no one else can see me!” Valla laughed, squeezing his ribs as she leaned into him. Victor chuckled, then leaned forward, urging Guapo to go as fast as he could over the rough, curving road. They made the beach in no time, and then they really started to move as Guapo understood Victor wanted to follow in the tracks left behind by the Ninth. Despite a couple of weeks having passed, the passage of six hundred soldiers was still quite evident, especially as they got into the shrub-covered, loosely wooded hills. The turf was well-torn, and bushes were trampled in a wide swath. The cohort had chosen a route traversable on foot, and Guapo had no trouble pounding over the same path.

After an hour or so, Victor knew poor Uvu was well behind them, and he shifted so he could look back at Valla. At some point, she’d removed her helmet, and though she still held his sides, she was leaning back, face in the wind, her hair streaming behind her. Her wings weren’t unfurled, but they weren’t tight to her back, either. Her eyes were closed, and she wore a contented smile. It looked like she was really enjoying the air coursing through her hair and feathers. Victor had intended to ask her if she worried about Uvu but didn’t want to interrupt her joy with a worry she’d clearly put out of her mind. Instead, he turned back to the front and enjoyed the ride, himself.

When he ran like this, Victor had no doubt that Guapo was twenty or more times as fast as the cohort. He figured they could reach their destination in less than two days if they tried, but he didn’t intend to hurry. He planned to let Guapo run until noon, and then he and Valla would make camp, and he’d give her some time to practice with her wings. Victor didn’t want to bring her into combat if she’d never even sparred with those new appendages; what if she couldn’t find her balance?

When he pulled Guapo to a halt on a broad, grassy hill, it wasn’t even noon, but he liked the spot so much that he’d decided to stop early. A single tree, young and green, sat atop the hill next to a burned, broken stump of a much larger one. Victor liked to imagine the sapling was growing from a seed left behind by the dead tree. When his big spirit horse stopped beside the tree, and Victor scanned the horizon, he could clearly see the wall of gray mist that made up the border of Hector’s lands. It was still quite distant, beyond hills and canyons, but from that height, he could imagine the route and figured Guapo could get there in less than a day.

Of course, their route wasn’t straight to Hector’s mountain—they had to turn north, skirt those foothills, and find the river that led up to the dormant volcano and the roadway the citadels guarded. Even so, he knew if they left early the next day, they’d make it; Guapo had hardly slowed from his fastest gallop all day as he followed the cohort’s trail. “Let’s stop here.”

“For lunch?”

“Nah, for the day. We can finish the journey tomorrow, so let’s take some time for you to practice with those wings.”

“Ugh! I was hoping to be alone. It’s going to be embarrassing!”

Victor laughed, sliding off Guapo. “Don’t be like that. You know I’m not going to tease you! Much.” He reached up to help her dismount, but she ignored his hand, sliding off on her own.

“Think you’re funny?” She stretched her back, slowly turning in a circle, admiring the view from the hilltop. “A nice spot, at least!” She turned to look back the way they’d come over rolling hills covered in a mostly green carpet of grass that faded into the horizon. “I hope Uvu enjoys himself and does some hunting and exploring on his way.”

“I’m sure he’s loving it.” Victor began pulling chairs and camping equipment from his storage rings, setting up a picnic area in the grass. “How about I cook us up something for lunch while you stretch those wings out?”

“Well, I can see you’re not going to let the matter rest, hmm? All right. I am curious, but please, don’t watch me at first.”

“Cross my heart.” Victor laughed at her puzzled expression, then got to work, lighting up his camp stove and boiling some water. He could hear her steps as she moved down the hill a short way, then the flutter of wind through her wings as she spread them out. His hearing had improved along with the rest of his senses as he’d grown more powerful and his body had evolved, so it wasn’t hard to pick up her soft exhalation and the ruffle of feathers as she tried flying for the first time. He was surprised, though, when the sound rapidly faded. Had she taken flight so quickly? He broke his promise and turned to look for her.

He immediately saw her, higher than the hilltop, yet hundreds of yards distant. She jerked from left to right as though trying to find her balance, but it looked awkward and difficult, like she was at the mercy of the wind. Then her feet, trailing beneath her, straightened out behind her, and he could see her pull her heels together. Almost like magic, her flight evened out, and she banked to the left, exposing the full expanse of her massive wings. They glittered in the sunlight, and a distant laugh came to him on the breeze. Victor sat down on one of the comfortable chairs he’d set out, envy gripping his heart as he watched her flap those wings, gaining altitude and truly soaring like a bird.

“There must be magic involved,” he said to Guapo, who stood near the green sapling, idly chewing on grass. “Her body isn’t like a bird’s, so magic must be buoying her flight, making those wings work so well.” He stared at the proud spirit Mustang for a long second. “Why are you eating grass, you goofball?” Of course, no answer was forthcoming, so Victor chuckled and returned to cooking. He didn’t have a vast repertoire of dishes, and, in fact, he wasn’t really cooking at all. He was just heating some soup he’d bought in Coloss and adding some fresh ingredients. It was a brothy vegetable soup, and he pulled the meat from a whole roast bird he had from his time with the Shadeni, adding it to the pot. Guapo wandered closer, and Victor laughed. “I know it’s a warm day, but I was in the mood for soup. Don’t get any ideas; it’s not for Mustangs.”

As he stirred the pot, the thud of feet hitting the ground and rapid steps told him Valla had landed, so he turned to regard her. Her hair was wild, her cheeks were flushed, and a huge smile told him things had gone fine. “Victor! I wish you could fly!”

“Hah! Me too! It went well?”

“Yes! It was like . . . well, it was like my body knew what to do as soon as I got some wind in my feathers!” She came closer to his camp stove, sniffing the air. “Smells great!”

“Chicken vegetable soup!”

Valla folded her wings tight to her back and tried to sit on the chair, but they hung below her butt, and she couldn’t make it work. “This is absurd! How am I supposed to sit?”

“Maybe open them partially? So they hang to the sides of the chair?” He watched her frown with concentration, trying different positions and finally settling on something like what he’d suggested. “It’ll take some getting used to, huh?”

“Yes, but it’s all worth it! I never imagined the feeling I had up there! I was so free and fast! I wager I can travel as quickly as Guapo!”

“Faster, I’ll bet, once you get used to it. If you get really high and just soar on the wind, you won’t have to worry about obstacles like he does.”

“True! And they’re different from Ghelli and Naghelli wings, at least at the level we’ve seen. I know I can go higher and faster than any of them.”

“Yeah, those wings of yours are serious business. Lam and Edeya have pretty wings, but there’s no way they could keep up with you.”

“You watched me?” Valla scowled in mock outrage.

“I waited for a little while . . . well, until you were in the air, at least!”

Valla’s laugh trilled again, and Victor couldn’t help joining her. It was good to see her so happy; he could probably count the times she’d really laughed in the past on his ten fingers. The two of them sat together, enjoying each other's company, eating soup and salty, wafer-like bread for a good hour. After lunch, Valla took another flight. Then, when she returned, flushed and excited, full of tales of the things she’d seen, they sat together, just taking in the fresh air and warm sunshine. Toward mid-afternoon, Victor suggested they spar for a while so Valla could get used to her wings in such an activity.

They started off slow, moving at half intensity, practicing their forms, their attacks, and counters. They had to stop and repeat things several times as Valla kept throwing herself off balance with her wings. After a while, Victor stopped and suggested, “Why don’t you try using your wings more rather than trying to control them? Go ahead and extend them and use them like the limbs they are.”

“I’ve just been trying to hold them tight so they don’t throw me off . . .”

“Yeah, but have you ever seen birds fight? They have their wings out and use them as much as their talons or beaks.”

“Where have you watched birds fight?”

“Hah, I don’t know. Probably some internet videos.” He laughed and shook his head. “Never mind—it’s a thing from my world.”

“You’ll have to explain it to me sometime. I’d like to hear more about your world.” When Victor nodded, Valla spread her wings with a crack, and they began again. This time, she kept her wings out, flapping them to aid in her movement, and Victor found it a lot harder to close with her and deliver his attacks. Her wings were very strong, and she could use the hard, bony edge to knock him or his arm aside when she spun. He wondered at the metallic sheen to her feathers; would they continue to harden as she advanced her bloodline? Would they eventually be as good as armor?

When they decided to break for dinner, she laughed and charged him with a violent, exuberant hug. “You were right! I did much better when I stopped trying to control them, when I stopped trying to move like I did before I had them.”

Victor hugged her back, smiling. She’d been slower and a little awkward, but he could tell she was going to get stronger and stronger—her ceiling had, literally, been vastly expanded. She would be very formidable when she grew used to those wings, and their movement became second nature. “It’s good, beautiful. You’re going to be great.” As he hugged her, he set his eyes on the distant wall of eerie, green-tinted mist. Hector was waiting for him. He wondered what the pendejo was even like. “When we catch up to the cohort, let's talk to Victoria about Hector. I want to end this pinché invasion.”

She laughed and squeezed him harder. “We will. Who could stop us now?” Victor chuckled at her confidence; she was sounding almost Quinametzin. It was good, but something in him wanted to look for a piece of wood to knock his knuckles against.

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