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her words: he responded with
extreme excitement whenever anybody mentioned “food”, “nuts” or
“fruit”. The fact that she couldn’t decipher even a single phrase
of his made her feel dense.
    She added the
final piece of jet to the pile and inspected it with some
satisfaction. She loved her work as a jeweller, but never more so
than when she was crafting something for her mother. The claws and
beaks were finished as well, worked in vividly red firestone. She’d
carved each one with precision, making them as lifelike as
possible. Now it was time to deliver them to her father.
    She packed
everything carefully into her belt pouch, then slung Sigwide’s
carry pack across her shoulders. Once a grumbling Sigwide was
safely tucked into the travel bag, she stepped out onto the wide
ledge before her front door and unfurled her wings. Hers were pale
grey, a hue she secretly found insipid next to her mother’s
glorious dark blue.
    But then, that
was essentially true of every feature. Ynara glowed with health and
beauty; Llandry only managed a faint sparkle once in a while, on
her best days. The contrast regularly mortified her, but she was
far too attached to her mother to mind.
    Well. She didn’t
mind that much.
    She adopted a
lazy pace, her wings beating powerfully but slowly as she soared
over the clustered glissenwol caps of the city of Waeverleyne. She
always flew high, enjoying the strong currents of air in the open
skies. And the view was spectacular. The realm of Glinnery was
always well-lit: when the sun set, the sorcerers drew a cloak of
soft, artificial light over the realm’s woods and towns, feeding
the needs of the light-hungry plants, beasts and machines that
their society required. Waeverleyne, Glinnery’s capital city,
reflected the perpetual light from its hundreds of bejewelled
buildings, its narrow rivers and its pools of still, clear water,
shining brilliantly even in the softer eventide hours. She made the
journey slowly, taking in the view.
    Her parents
lived on the outskirts of the city, almost on the edge. The
glissenwol wilds loomed in a colourful mass a half-mile or so to
the east of their particularly tall tree. It had been a perfect
place to grow up, for they had all the conveniences of the city
within reach, and all the advantages of untamed nature a short
flight away.
    There were also
downsides, of course, including regular visits from the vicious
drauks that decimated Ynara’s poultry. Well. If she couldn’t have
egg-laying birds, she could have an equally attractive substitute
for her pretty red-winged birds.
    Her father was
at work in the rear garden when she arrived.
    ‘ Is
Mamma home?’ she asked as she landed lightly beside him.
    ‘ She’s out,’ Aysun replied. ‘Council meeting.’
    Llandry nodded.
Ynara was an elected Elder of the realm of Glinnery, so she was
frequently absent. That was convenient today.
    She nodded and
loosed Sigwide. ‘I finished the eyes.’
    ‘ Great. There are three ready to fit.’ He waved a brown hand
at a short row of small metal constructs, each one exactly as high
as an average bokren bird. The machines had legs, wings and heads
attached to their rounded bodies; all that remained were the
details she’d created. She grinned her appreciation as she examined
the metal birds. Her father was as much artist as engineer; these
fabricated poultry were minutely detailed and, in their own way,
quite beautiful.
    ‘ Do
they work?’ Llandry took up a cross-legged position next to her
father and unpacked her bags of gems and tools. She began fitting
eyes, claws and wing-tips to the first bird as her father worked at
the manufacture of another.
    ‘ Yep,’ he answered. ‘See this?’ He pointed to a thin strip of
dark panelling that ran down the back of the bird she held. ‘Just
needs a bit more light.’
    ‘ You’re amazing, Pa.’ He flashed her a quick grin by way of an
answer, still intent on fitting a wing onto the fourth metal bokren
bird. She