25 Kiromir

When we joined the caravan at the park, and the flock started to gather, I made my usual rounds to ensure everyone was accounted for. We had one or two campers broken down on the trail, and I had already called in assistance. We sent someone back with a rental car to get the ones who were searching for bondmates. Every year we made this trip was crucial, as it was our only hope to keep our race going.

I ran through with our mechanics. We had two of them that made sure anyone with older campers kept running strong. Sometimes we had a few on the caravan that would be out of money for gas, and we’d have to make it up with them. We distributed the money evenly for the flock, but there were always funds for the unexpected. Not everyone had the same money management.

It took me an hour to check over everyone. I passed from one camper to the next. I had promised Niala we’d spend more time together, and here I was, leaving her alone on the first night of the journey.

I had heard Thanus’s ink gun going off earlier. The men liked to get touchups before going about their business at the other clans.

When I returned, Thanus was working on Gaffriel. Niala perched up on a table and did her best to polish off what was probably a beer. She didn’t have the gall to try to hide it from me, but I never had the urge to say anything. I didn’t mind as long as she limited it to one or two, and she stayed with the adults. By the glassy look in her eyes, I guessed that she went past my unofficial limit and capacity to ignore.

“Niala?” I said as I came over. She looked up at me, and I could see it wasn’t alcohol that had her steel blue eyes glassy. Instead, her beer hung half-finished from her fingertips. It was tears.

My eyes drifted to the quietly lounging group, and the buzz of the tattoo gun went on. I looked over to see Thanus touching up the last details on an armband for Gaffriel. They had a lone light hanging bright and drawing bugs from the top of the little canopy tent they had set up.

Thanus shrugged a shoulder for me to look at something on the table beside him. Gaffriel avoided my gaze.

A piece of paper with a simple pattern lay on the table, a curled line, and a little fan of feathers with white tips repeating in a band around his arm. I picked the drawing up and compared it to what Thanus had started on Gaff’s arm.

I went quiet, and they mistook my silence for anger.

“It’s what I wanted,” Gaff said, pouting.

Niala pulled her knees up to her chest. She looked guilty, and a bundle peeked out from between her legs and chest. There were brown feathers, cloth, and blood. Gaff gave her a bouquet…

“Mir,” Thanus warned me in quiet tones. He had been my second in command for eleven years, and never once had he scolded me in such a sweet tone. It warmed me.

I shook my head. “It’s what I want, too, right here.” My voice cracked a little as I pointed to just above my forearm, where I had space for a band. “If you’re okay with it, that is.”

Gaffriel flicked his hazel gaze to me.

“Really?” Pride glimmered in his eyes.

“Yes. It’s your art; you can say no. I know I don’t owe you any favors,” I told him.

“It’s okay. You can use it. I’ll do better, I promise. I’m sorry.” He apologized. I stiffened myself and made sure the coast was clear. It was dark, and we were away from cameras. I dropped two sides of the tent, letting the flaps cover, and lashed my wings gently so as not to startle anyone into lashing themselves. I reached back with each hand and plucked two secondary flight feathers with a sharp jerk. My entire body jolted, and I gasped the sensation away before I tossed the feathers down on the table in front of him. Gaff closed his mouth, tensed his lips together, and nodded.

“Apology accepted,” he spoke with a broken whisper.

Thanus pulled his tattoo gun back and examined the work he’d done before wiping it down with a cloth.

A little cleanup and a strip of tattoo film later, Gaff hopped off Thanus’s chair, and I took his seat.

Thanus cleaned up on his table, wiped my arm down, taking a little bit too slow of a swipe around my bicep.

His eyes kept drawing from my arm to my face, and he leaned into his work, far closer than he did with the others.

“Getting a new band?” Krell asked. Dimal snorted a laugh, and someone muttered too quietly to be heard completely. A clash of glass tinkled as Niala stood on her feet in a flash. Her oblivion spiked, and Gaff’s mourning aura flowed. A myriad of sensations tugged at my heart, and I wanted to forget why.

“Hey!” I shouted. As flock leader and father, I had to put my foot down when conflict rose.

Niala faced down Nodak, a boy about a year older than her, quite a bit shorter than my own six foot ten. He had mousey features and brown hair. He’d only recently got his fire, within the past two years, and stared down Niala with a mixture of prospect and distrust. They had one of those hate-hate relationships with teenage boy hormones telling him to give her fires a shot.

He stood up and loomed over her. He was cocky with his fires. Niala stood ready to use hers though they were so new. Nodak had more practice with his fires.

“What are you gonna do about it?” He mused down to her.

Thanus rolled his eyes and went back to work on my arm. I lost all interest. Niala could handle it.

I heard twin sounds of wings lashing, a short scuffle, a shout from one of the men, and a clatter of a chair. The wind was knocked out of someone as the dull thud of flesh to flesh rang out.

Niala had this thing she did with her wings when she was ‘over it’ with something. She snapped her feathers, a short clip of noise, almost instinctive. I heard it ring out over the new silence.

“Oooh…..shhhhh,” I heard Krell say.

“Man, you should have seen that coming,” Dimal said as the boy wheezed.

Niala drew her wings and stalked off. I caught her hand as she passed me.

“He said you were getting a swan tattooed on you,” Niala said quietly. She looked hurt for me. I wasn’t comfortable with the comments; I never really had been.

Thanus put the tattoo gun down and stood, reaching for a leather band over his wrist. Under the leather, a tan line stood out where his ‘ault’ patch lay. On the top of his wrist, though, lay a small black silhouette of a single swan. He flashed it for a long moment at Nodak and the rest of them.

Niala watched with defensive posture; She loved me so much and felt protective of me. Finally, she nodded to Thanus and went on her way with Gaffriel following her like a lost puppy.

So much for ‘giving her some space.’

Silence spread, and Nodak slipped off, embarrassed. Thanus tied the band back onto his arm and picked up his tattoo gun before going back to work on my skin. I wanted to say something about the tattoo, ask him when he did it but hesitated as I felt a warm hand on my knee with gentle pressure.

Emotions were high; the night grew long. The buzz of the tattoo gun rang in my ears. I had long grown accustomed and had learned to enjoy the sensation of the needle pulsing into my skin. I welcomed the sting over so many other things.

As I moved my arm for him, the buzz of the gun worked over me, left, right, holding it up as he worked in the dim light. His hand on my knee moved up just an inch, then higher. I was nervous, but a quick glance told me that we were alone now. The light began to flicker over us.

Our eyes lifted. It was just me, Thanus and a lone moth tapping at the light bulb. I felt like that moth, crashing against something I’d never have that would eventually destroy me. It felt like me chasing fires.