Chapter 159 – Wing and Refuge

The inner wall was almost finished. The full outer perimeter wall that would someday protect the crops and grazing fields was still just some stakes in the ground to mark where it would eventually be. But the inner wall—twelve feet high, built from scavenged chunks of concrete we mortared together—was nearly complete.

I stood just outside the main courtyard, hands on my hips, squinting into the late morning sun as two of the ratkin supervised a team of teens maneuvering a heavy wooden door into position at the gate. Once the doors were installed, we could officially call the inner walls secure. They weren’t beautiful, but they were solid and defensible. If the orcs hit us, at least we’d have a wall to keep them out.

A cool breeze picked up, ruffling my coat. I turned into it instinctively, and that’s when I spotted motion in the distance. At first, I thought it was a flock of birds. But as they grew closer, they got a lot larger, and I realized there was no way those were ordinary birds. We had a flock of avians incoming.

“Eyes up!” I shouted, pointing north. “We’ve got company!”

I rushed back inside the walls, climbing the ladder quickly to stand on the parapets we’d built. Kara joined me there, handing over a pair of binoculars.

“What do you think they want?” Kara asked.

I scanned the sky. “I wish I knew.”

They were avians, no question. About a dozen. Their formation was ragged, though, their wings held stiff with exhaustion. A few of them looked wounded. They flew in uneven patterns, and some lagged behind the others. This wasn’t a war flight. I felt sure of it. But that didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous.

I stayed on the wall as they approached, binoculars pressed to my face. I wanted as much intelligence about them as I could gather before they arrived. The small flock circled twice and then slowly, cautiously, began to descend. Not into the Farm proper, but just beyond the half-built outer perimeter, out near the rows of reclaimed field where we hadn’t planted anything yet. That was smart of them. They knew their sudden appearance would make us nervous, so they were keeping their distance.

But they were landing, which meant they wanted something from us. What would it be?

Back when we fought the undead horde living in the mall, the avians had helped us out. They’d given us a couple of squads of their warriors to assist in the battle. The help hadn’t changed the course of battle or anything like that, but it gave me hope that we might be able to reach a deeper understanding with them in time.

I lowered the binoculars. The wind brushed my face again, tugging strands of hair loose from my braid. I wished more than anything that I knew what they wanted. From the looks of them, they needed help badly. Why come to me looking for it, though?

I took one last look at the horizon, then climbed down. It was time to see what the hell they wanted.

We met them just outside the boundary, where the half-planted field met the slope leading down to the highway. I had Kara on one side and Clay on the other, both visibly armed but not posturing. A handful of Farm defenders lingered just inside the inner wall, ready in case things went sideways. I didn’t expect trouble, but I’d learned the hard way not to count on that.

The avians waited in a loose cluster about twenty paces away. They didn’t advance until I gave a nod. Then one of them stepped forward.

He was old, or at least looked older than the others. Gray and white feathers dusted his wings and face, and one side of his chest was badly wrapped in makeshift bandages. The others deferred to him, keeping behind him as he limped toward us, wings partially folded. He raised one hand, not in threat, but like a greeting, and then, to my utter surprise, he spoke.

“Peace. We no fight.”

I blinked. Kara stiffened beside me. Clay gave a low whistle.

“You speak English?” I asked, keeping my tone careful.

“Little,” the avian rasped. “Hard… your words.” He struggled for a moment, then added more words. “Learned. Took time.”

There was pride in the way he said it, but also deep grief. He drew himself up straighter, then gestured behind him at the others. “We fly far. From death.”

I waited for him to go on. There was clearly a story here.

The elder continued slowly, carefully choosing each word. “Nest. Broken. All burned. Man came. Wing monster. With fire. Steel.” He paused to breathe, clearly struggling. “Men with him. We fought. Lost. Many die. Some flee, fly here.”

He tapped his chest once. “I lead. I say: go to the one who stood at mall. Who fight with us.”

That caught in my chest. He meant me.

“Why here?” I asked, quieter now.

He met my gaze. “We help you. We hope you help us, now.”

God. They’d flown straight here after losing their home, dragging wounded with them, risking our wrath, because I’d once treated them as something more than monsters. Because I’d let them stand with us in a fight.

“We seek… safe. Not war. Not nest.” He bowed his head. “Place to heal. That all.”

I let the silence stretch for a moment. The wind stirred my coat again. I looked over his group. All of them looked completely exhausted. Some of them were badly burned. A few were still bleeding from their wounds. None of them were holding weapons. They looked like what they were: a wrecked flock, desperate refugees who needed help if they were going to survive.

I stepped forward one pace.

“The Farm is a place of refuge,” I said clearly. “It’s not a staging ground for war. Not for vengeance.”

The elder nodded slowly.

“If you want sanctuary, and you come in peace, you’re welcome here. If you’re looking to strike back, you’ll have to find another place to do it.”

He nodded again, relief softening the lines of his face. “We stay. Peace.”

I gestured for them to follow. Kara shot me a worried look as we turned back toward the gate.

“You sure about this?” she asked under her breath.

I nodded, but my thoughts were already racing. A flying monster and fire. I couldn’t help but think about the dragon Peter captured, and how he’d talked about training it to serve him. Had he managed that already? Was he riding the beast into battle? From the sounds of it, he’d attacked the avians with the Air Guard helping him. That was alarming, mostly because the alliance hadn’t discussed such an attack.

Of course, I hadn’t chatted with them before hitting the goblin base, either. So I was hardly someone to talk about clearing plans before executing them! That said, the avians hadn’t been directly attacking anyone, and Delores and I discussed working out a treaty with them, during a break in the last leadership meeting.

What the hell happened at the Guard base to make them launch an all-out assault like that? And was the creature that attacked the dragon Peter captured, or something new?

The avians entered through the gates in silence, their steps slow, cautious, and deferential. I walked ahead of them with Kara beside me and Clay shadowing the rear, acting more like a bodyguard than usual. Not that I blamed him. Reactions from the Farm’s residents rippled through the space like a wave.

A few curious faces peeked out from windows or around corners. Others were less subtle. A pair of older men near the forge paused their work, staring with open aggression. One of them, Douglas, set down his hammer with a loud clang and strode over.

“You’re just letting them in?” he snapped. He was one of the people who’d come to us from the Air Guard base, so he’d been there when the avians attacked. “After what they did? You remember the raids, right? They killed people.”

Others were gathering now. Half a dozen. A few looked worried. One woman’s expression twisted with open anger.

“They killed Charlie,” someone said behind me.

I held up a hand before things could boil over. “I remember. I was there. I fought those raids with you.”

The crowd hushed slightly. I stepped forward, voice steady.

“I also remember the mall. When the undead horde chased us and we thought we were done for? The avians sent troops to help us fight. They didn’t have to. They chose to. We survived because we worked together.”

I looked over my shoulder at the haggard, wounded flock still standing just inside the gate. They watched the crowd warily. One clutched an especially small child to their chest. Fourteen of them in all, and six were clearly juveniles. The rest were barely staying on their feet.

“They’re not here to fight. They’re running from something worse. You see them there. Do they look like they’re here to conquer us?”

The silence was loud.

Kara spoke up beside me. “It’s the right thing to do. They helped us. Now we help them.”

Douglas hesitated. His jaw worked silently, chewing on words he didn’t quite say. Eventually, he stepped back with a grumble. “Fine. But I don’t trust ‘em.”

“You don’t have to,” I replied. “You just have to treat them like people. Unless they give you a reason not to. Just like anyone else, if they break the peace here, they’re out. You all know the rules. We don’t keep people who won’t work, and we don’t keep people who pick fights or hurt each other.”

Based on the number of nods I saw, I was getting through to them. They might not all be enthusiastically agreeing, but it was close enough.

We led the avians further in. Someone brought water. One of the medics grabbed supplies and started cleaning wounds, and those with healing magic helped where they could as well.

We set up some new tents near the edge of the garden, close enough to be under the inner wall’s protection but still separate from the other dwellings. It was a compromise of sorts, and in the long run I didn’t think the avians were going to want tents on the ground, anyway. They seemed to prefer roosting somewhere high.

Food was passed around. The avian elder who had spoken to me earlier bowed his head low in thanks before being helped to sit beneath one of the shade trees.

I stayed at the edge of the action for a while, watching it unfold, making sure things went smoothly as we did what we could to mend their wounds. The grief I saw in their eyes? That was something I couldn’t fix.

But while I watched, my mind wasn’t quiet. I kept turning over the story the avian told me, trying to parse what happened.

It sounded to me like they were describing a man riding a dragon attacking their base, with the Air Guard cooperating. If that was true, it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together. It had to be Peter Eddings. But why strike the avians? Why now? I didn’t have answers. Just a growing sense that things were moving quickly, and maybe not in a direction I liked.

I tried to tell myself that it was probably fine. After all, I’d attacked the goblin fort not long before. Was this really that much different? The avians had long been a thorn in the side of the Air Guard, so it wasn’t shocking they’d want the problem removed. If Peter helped, well, that’s what alliances were for, right?

If that was all it was, anyway. I decided that a trip up to the Air Guard base was in order. I needed to see what was happening there with my own eyes.