Adonis turned as the rattling of chains carried above the soft patter of falling snow. The elation of their victory left him as he saw the group of prisoners approaching, watched closely by their Tangatan guard.
The children of the Anahera—fledgelings as the creatures called them—marched with heads down, each chained to the next in line by collars of steel fastened about their necks. They walked in blessed silence, heads bowed and stumbling in the deep snow, cowed by the power of their captors, by the thrum of Maya’s Voice, always present now, though she walked at the head of their column.
Adonis clenched his fists as he watched the fledgelings trudge past. They might have left them imprisoned and under guard in the Anaheran city, but Maya wanted to keep them close, needed them to ensure the obedience of her new slaves. Not even her Voice could keep so many of the adult Anahera in check without the threat against their youth to cow them.
His heart twitched as one of the fledgelings tripped and fell into a snowdrift. The icy stuff had ceased to fall, but the ground was thick with the last of winter’s storms, making passage difficult for the young. And their wings, still too young for flight, only seemed to hinder them further on the ground.
Adonis couldn’t help but wonder at a species whose youth were so defenceless. The moment he had caught one within his superhuman grip, the fledgeling’s life had hung in his hands. No wonder the rest had surrendered so easily.
Most of the fledgelings barely stood taller than Adonis’s waist, and with the chains binding them together, the journey through the mountains had been difficult. It would only get worse. Now they had reached the lowlands, the pace would increase. And if their parents resisted Maya orders…
At least the Tangata were strong. From a young age, they were able to fend for themselves. And the Old Ones…legend whispered of their offspring, of new-borns able to walk within days, fight by their first year. Adonis felt a thrill of excitement at that thought and looked around for Maya. Her belly had grown large in the weeks they’d spent in the mountains, and he wondered whether it was right that they continue with this mad rush, that they hurl their strength upon the defences of humanity now, rather than wait. But Maya had been insistent.
A shout from the fledgelings drew his attention back to the captives. Another at the rear had fallen, his chain pulling short so that the others stumbled. Shouts came from their Tangatan guards, then one of his brethren strode forward. He held a rope in one hand and with a flick of his wrist, he sent it hissing at the fledgeling’s back. A scream punctuate its impact as the youth’s wings thrashed against the snow, becoming entangled in the chains. The Tangata raised the rope again, but a shout from the back of the line gave him pause.
“Hey!”
Adonis flinched at the coarseness of the human language—not so much the words themselves, but the manner in which they communicated. The creatures spoke aloud, so that all the world could hear their thoughts. Indeed, he had come to suspect they enjoyed the fact that their speech made it all but impossible to be ignored. Certainly, this individual did not want for silence.
“Bastard, why don’t you pick on someone your own size!”
Stifling a growl, Adonis marched to the rear of the line where the human was sitting up in her stretcher, waving a fist at the Tangata with the rope-whip. The human had been injured in the battle for the Anaheran city, twisting her leg in a terrible fall. For now, Maya had permitted her to live, though if she did not cooperate when they reached the human lands, her protection would not last.
Swathed in furs, only the human’s golden complexion and long black hair was visible, but that was more than enough to show her displeasure. The two Anahera that had been assigned to carry her stretcher struggled to keep from tipping their burden into the snow at her erratic movements.
Adonis shook his head as he approached. They were such vulgar things, these humans. This one called herself Maisie, but Adonis rarely bothered to recall their names. He couldn’t understand how so many of his brethren had taken them as assignments. Despite the old Matriarch’s urgings, he could have never stomached the thought of bonding with one, let alone procreating—though until recently that had been the only way of preserving the Tangatan lineage.
Just the thought made Adonis’s stomach churn. Even the Anahera would be preferable, cowardly as they had proven. At least they were powerful, elegant, maybe worthy of the Tangata. That had been his hope once, a union between their species, one that might save the Tangata from extinction.
Then he had discovered Maya, and the future of his people had changed forever.
Approaching the stretcher, Adonis looked to the Anaheran woman who was helping to carry the human.
Translate for me, slave, he said, then turned to glare at the human.
“You,” the human spoke before Adonis could relay his admonishments through the Anaheran woman. “I know you…you’re the first one, the one the Old One used to take the fledgeling.”
Adonis scowled. “I am Adonis, partner to the Matriarch of the Tangata”, he hissed, and the Anaheran woman relayed his words. “And you will speak only when commanded, human.”
To his surprise, the human only rolled her eyes, a gesture he’d come to learn was one of disrespect. A growl rumbled from his chest and he took a step towards the creature.
“I hope you’re happy,” the human said, ignoring his warning and lying back in her stretcher. She gestured to her bearers. “I can’t say I was the biggest fan of the Anahera, but to enslave an entire species...” She shook her head. “That’s almost human.”
“Quiet, prisoner,” Adonis snapped, irritated despite himself. How dare this creature compare his people to their kind? “Or you
