Set in PirthāVee Grah, a world where one stays on top of the food chain by flying higher than the creatures that would eat your wings as an appetizer, the technologically superior ChāHota and warmongering VāJeeta clash over a precious resource while the altruistic PraāAcheen takes neither side.
Forced to choose between the freedom to pursue a cure to White Claw, and his loyalty to father and flock, VāJeeta High Princeāand budding alchemistāR'Venin must sacrifice more than he ever conjured before he can show his feathers in the Granite Spires again. And, after a lifetime hiding among the branches, KaāAla KaāUaāthe last known survivor of the mythical GirāAgitāis saved from solitude after sheās blown into the nest of strangers from the Bluewoods. The Windfather has her course laid out, but does she possess the faith to follow?
Can R'venin bring an end to the war and peace to the flocks? Can Ka'Ala trust the hearts of someone whose ancestors enslaved her own?
Only The Heir of the First Tower can answer these questions and more.
Set in PirthāVee Grah, a world where one stays on top of the food chain by flying higher than the creatures that would eat your wings as an appetizer, the technologically superior ChāHota and warmongering VāJeeta clash over a precious resource while the altruistic PraāAcheen takes neither side.
Forced to choose between the freedom to pursue a cure to White Claw, and his loyalty to father and flock, VāJeeta High Princeāand budding alchemistāR'Venin must sacrifice more than he ever conjured before he can show his feathers in the Granite Spires again. And, after a lifetime hiding among the branches, KaāAla KaāUaāthe last known survivor of the mythical GirāAgitāis saved from solitude after sheās blown into the nest of strangers from the Bluewoods. The Windfather has her course laid out, but does she possess the faith to follow?
Can R'venin bring an end to the war and peace to the flocks? Can Ka'Ala trust the hearts of someone whose ancestors enslaved her own?
Only The Heir of the First Tower can answer these questions and more.
Maybe this wasnāt such a good idea, after all. R'Venin clawed his way through the crimson maize fields of the central plains as the battle raged a thousand wingspans overhead. Ripe corn ears blooming with silver silk fell against his broken wings with each agonizing handspan of ground. Wisps of silk snagged at his fractured helmet, threatening to pull it off and reveal the ruby-encrusted crown hidden underneath.
Three thousand spans beyond the warring clans, RāVenin imagined his father watching the battle from the white cliffs, thinking back to their last conversation before the battle began.
***
"Remember, R'Venin, show no mercy. No remorse." K'Rawin's juniper eyes reflected the rising western suns. "Show only cruelty to those who defy our destiny. We are the chosen flock of the great Windfather. The Ch'Hota will submit to the light or perish to our might. The V'Jeeta will one day rule over all Pirth'Vee Grah!"
R'Venin bowed and stretched his wings to reveal their undersides, transferring his helmet to his left arm to pound his right fist across his chest plate. The squad of V'Jeeta royal guards behind him copied his reverential gesture in unison. The silver and ruby crown atop his head glinted in the morning sun.
āThis is wrong. Why must we conquer? Why can't we just negotiate for the Silver Silk?ā R'Venin thought, his eyes flitting to the army assembling across the valley.
King K'Rawin stepped to the cliff's edge overlooking the plains, wrapping his armored talons over the lip. Spreading his wings upward, he winced as the joints cracked. His right wing spasmed and shuddered before stretching out to its full reach. He shook the dust off his feathers before pulling them back, cloaking his body.
R'Venin stepped forward, away from the royal guard. "Is it the White Claw again?" he asked, retracting his finger claws and massaging his father's wing joints.
K'Rawin's eyes flared, but his face remained hard as the Granite Spires of home. "No one can know," he snapped under his breath.Ā
Everyone already knows. Who do you think youāre fooling?
"May I take a look?" R'Venin whispered, leaning forward.Ā
āYouāre a warrior, RāVenin,ā he sneered. āWhat would my generals think if they saw the high prince doing a frail-wings work?ā
RāVenin sighed, closing his eyes. āIāll make it look like Iām adjusting your armor.ā
K'Rawin gave a slight nod as he stared across the fields below.Ā
R'Venin placed his helmet on the dusty outcropping and closed the gap between them. Raising his wings, he offered some privacy from the royal guardsā sharp eyes. K'Rawin opened his right flank again, fighting off another twitch, as R'Venin unlatched the hinged joint plating covering his father's wing claw. A chalky powder fell from within the sheath as R'Venin removed the bracelet-like armor from the wing's leading edge. The hook-shaped talon, dulled by disease, looked like a weathered tree trunk left to bleach in the sun. Hairline cracks ran the length of the shaft. The claw, black and shiny at the base, tapered to papery-thin snakeskin at the tip, as if ready to slough off at the slightest breeze.
R'Venin held his breath as the charcoal feathers across his back and calves splayed. The bitter smell of rotting leaves wafted across his nasal slits with the cloud of powdered bone.
"Not as bad as you thought, is it?" K'Rawin sneered, looking away from the exposed claw.
R'Venin replaced the armor plating, retrieved his helmet from the ground, and set it over his crowned head. "Perhaps you should have your healers take a closer look, Father," R'Venin bowed his head. "Your talons smell worse."
K'Rawin snorted. "Once we win this battle, I'll get my treatment for the next breeding cycle."
"If we bartered with the Ch'Hota for the silk," R'Venin leaned in, "we wouldn't have to fight over the harvest. There would be enough for both sides. We could treat all V'Jeeta with White Claw."
"I'll not share with those mongrels," K'Rawin spat. "There's not enough for all. If we don't defeat them today, there will only be enough Silk for the First Tower. And we need to breed more warriors if we're to crush our enemy to dust."
Thereās never enough because we destroy half the valley fighting over the Silk. Why it only grows here, Iāll never understand. But if we didnāt need it anymore, the war would end.
"I've been studying alchemy, Father," R'Venin whispered. "Mother has been teaching me. I believe if we had help, we could find a cure."
"We need help from no one," K'Rawin snorted. "And, alchemy is for crazy Pra'Acheen mystics, not a V'Jeeta prince. You're the eldest son of my first wife, and a V'Jeeta warrior, R'Venin." K'Rawin's eyes darkened. "Never forget that."
R'Venin nodded. "Yes, Father."
K'Rawin waved R'Venin away as an adolescent V'Jeeta warrior in gleaming obsidian armor swooped down from the clouds. The king's chest expanded as a younger version of himself came to a stop a wingspan off the cliff's face. He beat his wings against the updraft, hovering in place. "Ah," the king beamed, "K'Marot, my youngest son and best scout. What did you find?"
"Father," he shouted as dust billowed across the ledge. "The Ch'Hota are assembling at the edge of Needleleaf Forest. They have a hundred squadrons perched in the lower branches and dozens of ground artillery units moving into position between the Bluewoods and the Copperleaf Forest. I estimate we outnumber them five to three. It will be a slaughter."
RāVenin raised his spear in salute toward the boy. āHello, little shadow.ā
Barely past a hatchling, and Father sends him out as a spy.Ā
āHello, brother,ā KāMarotās smile widened, bowing his head as his eyes locked on RāVenin. āI look forward to watching your skills in battle. Father says I can learn much from your example. Iāve wagered with the others that the field will be stained yellow with your kills.ā
K'Rawin's eyes narrowed as a wicked grin crossed his lips. "We will end them," he growled. "They will subject themselves or die."
"We may have more warriors, father," R'Venin leaned in, "But their armor and weapons are superior to ours. This battle will be costly,ā RāVenin paused then turned his head to look directly at his father. āOn both sides."
K'Rawin spun away from the precipice, flaring his wings and backhanded R'Venin in the face. "I don't care what it costs," the king roared. "I'll send every last V'Jeeta to their deaths, as long as the Ch'Hota end up in bondage or extinction."
K'Marot drifted down, landing a wingspan from the king. "Father, R'Venin meant no disrespect. I'm sure he's only concerned about the lives of our army. Right?" He asked, looking into his eldest sibling's eyes.
R'Venin's eyes flitted between the faces of his father and youngest brother. "Yes, of course," he muttered. "I'm just worried about losing more soldiers in this war."
K'Rawin stared hard into R'Venin's averted eyes.Ā
R'Venin bowed low, exposing his wing's undersides as wide as his joints would allow. "Praise to the King," he shouted toward the ground.
The royal guards drew swords or raised spears to the sky and opened their wings, chanting in response, "PRAISE TO THE KING!"Ā Ā
K'Rawin turned in a slow circle, touching each shouting warriorās chest plates before standing next to K'Marot at the cliff's edge. Drawing twin swords from their sheaths, he pointed them toward the Bluewoods in the distance and took a deep breath.
"TO BATTLE!"
The sky darkened as thousands of V'Jeeta warriors, led by K'Marot, took flight from the plateau, screeching like lightning.
R'Venin pulled the helmet over his head and raised his spear, screaming into the dawn as he stepped off the precipice and dove toward the cloud of Ch'Hota guardsmen rising from the branches below.
Death will be my only escape from this nightmare. At least Iāll no longer be at the mercy of his talons.
R'Venin pulled in his wings, building speed. The wind whistled through his helmet's ear holes, rising in pitch with his descent. Wingspans above, metal clanged against metal as the V'Jeeta Army grappled with the Ch'Hota guardsmen. Screams of agony erupted as warriors on both sides ripped, sliced, and tore at the wings of their enemies. The bodies of adversaries and allies fell lifeless from the sky, skewered on spears or pierced by arrows, to the red fields below.
R'Venin spied a quintet of Ch'Hota, flanking him on the right.Ā
I'd better make this look good, so Father retains his honor. Taking on five at once should give him reason enough to exalt my death.
R'Venin spun around, beating his wings faster and aiming his spear at the center guardsman. The rustling wind stilled like a frozen river as each flap took longer than the last.Ā
Goodbye, Mother. Goodbye, B'Luren, my sister. I go to join Be'Tee, the Mother of All, in the Eternal Tree.
R'Venin banked left and right, preventing anyone who may be watching from knowing his true intent. Ten wingspans away, two of the Ch'Hota guardsmen broke formation and swooped upward, tilting their spears to the sky just as a V'Jeeta warrior pummeled them with a crash of steel. "My Prince!" he choked as the spears impaled him. "Fly!"
R'Venin tucked his wings and spiraled just as the three remaining guardsmen launched their spears at him. His spin snapped off three spearheads, still lodged in his wing joints. As R'Venin fell, his executioners drew their swords in unison and wheeled through the sky, searching for another V'Jeeta target.
Flailing against the stabbing pain in his shoulders, R'Venin clawed at the air. With nothing to grasp, the battling flocks above grew smaller as he plummeted toward the ground.
***
Did Father see me fall? If he discovers I'm still alive, he'll have me healed and then send me right back into battle.
R'Venin glanced back along the blood trail to the fallen warrior, the spear shafts holding him off the ground like a carcass over a roasting pit. A veridian pool collected at the dead warriorās knees, soaking into the ruddy soil, chasing R'Venin further from the chaos of war.
He clawed through the soft, tan dirt with his functioning arm, stretching the open wounds of all three spearheads still lodged in his wing joints. His armor plating failed to protect him against the squadron of Ch'Hota guardsmen that swooped in out of nowhere.
With a broken ankle, shattered femur, and dislocated hipāall on one sideāR'Venin's vision blurred from the pain. The Copperleaf forest seemed forever away as his driving thought pulled him forward.Ā
I never wanted to be a warrior.
A flock of midget dovehawks erupted from the red maize to his right, followed by soft footfalls moving in his direction. His black armor, accented with bright scarlet crystals to match his plumage, blended against the shadows and red stalks.
His emerald eyes scanned between the rows of corn, watching for the noisemaker's colors.Ā
Ally or Adversary?Ā
The dovehawks circled above, squawking displeasure at their interrupted feast, and then darted northward.
R'Venin watched, bleary-eyed, toward the south, as he unsheathed his small dagger from a chest scabbard. An irregular rhythm of multiple footfalls approached at a slow pace; only the carbon-feather armor kept his hearts from erupting out of his chest.
Forcing his cotton-covered tongue to swallow the remnants of moisture in his mouth, R'Venin rolled onto his punctured shoulder to prepare for his final defense. The spearheads tore at his open wounds like a runnerhound digging for sweetroot.
The sounds of faltering footsteps and a cry of agony penetrated through the thick maize stalks before the body of a wounded V'Jeeta warrior landed a few feet away from R'Venin's trembling blade. He spotted the fractured, double-spear insignia on the motionless V'Jeetaās helmet.
Heavy Cavalry, Second Class. Fresh from The Branch.
"Ch'Dee," a dark shadow called from behind the rows. "Are you still alive?"Ā
R'Venin gaped into the blank stare of the fallen soldier, green blood oozing out of his mouth and nose as the other warrior stepped into the swath of trampled corn. "Prince R'Venin?" the warrior donning a Wing Commander's sash exclaimed. "We thought you were dead."Ā
"I'm not sure if that wouldn't be better than my current state," R'Venin groaned, reaching up while still clutching his small weapon. "What's your name, warrior?"
"I am D'Atch, of the Third Tower." The warrior tightened the grip on his spear and saluted R'Venin with a small bow. "I have the high honor of leading your father's Obsidian Battalion. I have learned much from his battle tactics. He speaks very highly of you, your highness."
Just wonderful. RāVenin grimaced inwardly as he sheathed his dagger. Another death-worshiper.Ā
D'Atch looked over R'Venin's injuries. "You need to see a healer, your majesty," he said, keeping his wings open and vulnerable. "Your brother's camp is not far. I can take you to him."
R'Venin turned his gaze toward the distant battle of two great flocks in a heated conflict. The crash of metal on metal faded to tinkling cymbals where he lay injured on the ground.Ā
If I refuse his aid, he's sure to tell K'Marot that I'm still alive. Then I'll never escape.Ā
The Ch'Hota squadron that left him butchered and broken flashed behind his eyes. R'Venin first shuddered, then fluffed his blood-soaked plumage as if attempting to shake off the stains.
āIāll be alright,ā RāVenin sighed. āYou should get back in flight. The king will need all the warriors he can muster to defeat the Ch'Hota. Go.ā
DāAtch puffed out his chest, standing tall. āForgive me, your majesty. But, Iāll not leave the Kingās first son to die in a field. With your permissionāā DāAtch leaned forward, planting his spear and extending his arm.
"Thank you, D'Atch," R'Venin reached up, taking the warrior's outstretched hand. "Aargh!" Open wounds tore apart, letting his loathed royal blood seep to re-stain his armor with a fresh coat of green.
R'Venin wrapped his working arm under D'Atch's wing, unable to help the uninjured soldier; he could do no more than express his gratitude. "I'm sorry about your fallen comrade," R'Venin grunted between agonizing steps through the rows of red stalks. "Were you close?"
D'Atch kept his stoic eyes on the path between the rows as they inched closer to the sounds of battle. "He was my father's first son. And though I am his youngest, Ch'Dee was my best friend."
R'Venin felt a stab of guilt. The first son of the king and the devotee of his youngest brother. "Small flock," he said between steps. "It seems we have a little in common."Ā
D'Atch suddenly spread his arms and wings as a spear burst through his chest armor. Collapsing onto the ground under the weight of his fallen aide, R'Venin looked up to the crystal sky from the flat of his back, only to find a Ch'Hota guardsman readying another pike from high above.
The Ch'Hota guardsman dove, pulling in his wings tight to build up speed before plunging the spear at R'Venin's helpless form. This is the end, R'Venin thought to himself. Thank the great Windfather.
Just as the spear left the guardsman's hand, a V'Jeeta warrior dove into the Ch'Hota soldier. The V'Jeeta's talons dug deeply into the Ch'Hota's back as he tore at his wings with a guttural battle cry.Ā
The spear pierced through D'Atch's wing and into R'Venin's no-longer-good shoulder, pinning him to the soil a mere second before the tumbling aerial combatants blasted into the ground like meteors a wingspan away from his feet. A cloud of feathers, browns, and tans, splattered with blood, plumed into the air. Bits of fallen compatriot, mixed with his father's enemy, floated on the wind and landed on R'Venin's face.
Unable to move, D'Atch's dead body pinned him on one side. The spear on the other. R'Venin let his head fall against the soft, loamy soil. His final pillow.
Creamy clouds swirled in the azure sky, the colors blurring together with each exhausted breath. The red corn stalks painted silvery trails as they swayed in the breeze.Ā
R'Venin half-closed his unfocused eyes to watch the dance of light and shadow.Ā
Free from war. Free from hate.
A muffled voice, like distant thunder, shouted indecipherable words.
Dazed and sleepy, R'Venin ignored the crunching footfalls getting louder. A blurry silhouette hovered upside down into view.Ā
Just let me die. I canāt go back.
The misshapen shadow grew as the newcomer leaned down. The sensation of the soft, earthy bed suddenly left him as a lungful of dusty air, distinct with the odors of corn and sweat, filled his nasal slits.Ā
A stabbing pain pierced his left shoulder as the blurry shape rolled his body onto its broken side. In a brief moment of clarity, a green-soaked spearhead came into view. Bits of meat and feathers dangled from the barbs.
Those look a lot like mine.
The stranger's hand dropped the bloody mass, which disappeared under R'Venin's head. His body floated off the ground and spinning amid the stalks, drifted sideways through the rows of corn, whose silvery hairs brushed his brow. No longer able to keep them open, R'Venin closed his eyes and drifted away.
The V'Jeeta is on the edge of a war; one that the Prince, R'Venin doesn't want to take part in, but must because he's loyal to his regal father. Even on the brink of going into battle, he tries to find a way for diplomacy to win, but his father is lost to the thrall of bloodlust.
As he flies into battle, he's ambushed by the enemy, and crashes to the ground, seriously injured. He believes he's about to die when his rescuers are ambushed. Instead, he's dragged off the battle field, unconscious, to a peaceful alchemist healing sanctuary. After he's healed, he learns his rescuer was one of his enemies, but now he owes him his life, and so R'Venin vows to be his faithful servant, and follows him and his sister to their home.
This book is beautifully written, with so much colour and description gracing the pages. However, I got lost with the names, regularly becoming confused between the warring clans (or flocks?) as well as the numerous deadly creatures they encounter. I struggled with the rules of the world, not knowing if the main characters resembled humans with wings, or birds with arms; the same with the creatures - all of which appeared to have the ability of flight, but with little explanation for the reader. It was almost as though Adams assumed the reader would automatically know what each new species would be, and so didn't explain them in great detail.
Besides that, I enjoyed the story; the similar names of the characters aside.
SA