Read Online Kindred and Wings by Philippa Ballantine - Free Book Online

standing in ready bliss—instead they were in real pain, stretched and torn like pieces of leather between two quarreling dogs. It was impossible to hear their screams over the storm of birdsong, but their faces—revealed now and then among the chaos of fluttering wings—were twisted, while their hands reached toward the birds in supplication. As if they could be saved with just a little more faith.
    Something had to give; reality could not tolerate such a battle. The Caisah bellowed, a sound so beyond what any mortal could make that many of those who were already turning to scatter from their seats were knocked down to the ground. Now the screams were not just from the birds and the men on the sand.
    Kelanim felt blindly out with her hand for him, terrified and wary of looking up at the Caisah again. Her fingers grazed across his ankle, which was bare and burning. The mistress could not have said what compelled her to hold on, but she did, feeling the power vibrate through her bones. Though her mind was numb with fright, she had to see, she had to know what was going on—even if her eyes were burned from her head.
    Kelanim managed to get to her knees and wrench her eyes open just a fraction at the very moment the Caisah roared again—and everything broke apart.
    She hadn’t even time to blink or draw breath before flame, blue and white, erupted from the stained sands of the arena engulfing the struggling men. For an instant they burned skyward like consumed candles, their arms flung back almost into the shape of wings, flames erupting from their mouths and from the tips of their fingers.
    The cloud of circling birds broke away in disorder, no longer a flock, merely terrified animals as the fire rolled and spat around them. The Caisah was still screaming with a ragged throat, a word that might have been “no.” It went on beyond reason while everything below was engulfed.
    Not content with the condemned, the conflagration whirled about on itself and smothered the first ten rows of the stadium seating in blue-white flames. Normal citizens of Perilous and Fair were swallowed by it. Children, the elderly, or Rutilian guards—it made no different to the conflagration. They were surrounded and gone in a moment. Families scrambling to get away were swamped by the fire that the Caisah had unleashed. Old men and women not moving as fast were caught up and gone in ash. Others, trampled by their peers, screamed in agony and died even in the furthest reaches of the stadium. The flames cut a swath through lower half of the amphitheatre, licking and consuming their way up the steps like an angry tide before sliding back and disappearing. People had been running, so perhaps the carnage wasn’t as great as it might have been, but Kelanim saw enough to haunt her dreams.
    The mistress dragged herself upright, clutching the edge of the balcony and staring out at the remains of the day with wide eyes and a soot-stained face. The sand was gone, burned to white glass, while stone walls were blackened and twisted like the creations of some maddened sculptor. Of the people there was no sign; all that they had been was consumed and wiped away.
    Spinning around, Kelanim examined the Caisah. He was blank-faced, most likely in shock. In all her time with him, Kelanim had never seen the like of it; the power had been magnificent and wild. He must have been unable to control it. Surely, all those people dying had to have been a mistake.
    He shook his head, his eyes once more just eyes. His voice, when he spoke, came out hoarse and strained. “They do call this place Perilous for a reason.”
    His guards, having pulled themselves back into formation and regained their composure a little, laughed in a strained way. Kelanim scanned his face, certain she could see regret there. His people had died, after all. When he held out his hand to her, she took it without hesitation.
    “Are you well, my lord?” Her voice was small but steady, she