City of Dust: Completely gripping YA dystopian fiction packed with edge of your seat suspense. Michelle Kenney

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      Max was right behind me in a heartbeat.

      He meant Friskers of course, our much-loved village pet griffin, who now roamed the outside forest. Although the outside forest inhabitants had been disgruntled, I’d no choice but to leave Octavia’s engineered beast there when I made it back from Pantheon. I knew it stood the best chance of survival among the wilder animals and vegetation, rather than within our farming community. But instead of embracing its new-found freedom, it had taken to waiting patiently in the outside forest for Arafel hunters to appear, when it would appear like an over-enthusiastic dog, its pink tongue lolling over its carnivorous beak. Even genetically modified mythical beasts had the potential for domestication, it seemed.

      One of the village children had since named it after its unique mix of bushy feathers and whiskers, and somehow the name had stuck.

      I shook my head.

      ‘Two heads,’ I mouthed, watching the teasing light fade from his eyes.

      This time his pace matched my own. We both understood the implication of what I’d glimpsed. And as far as we were aware, the only two-headed creatures in existence were Octavia’s genetically enhanced haga, supposedly incarcerated inside Pantheon’s Lifedomes. Not flying free over the North Mountains.

      We took a wide, circuitous route around the clearing, and leapt through the trees like spider monkeys, before dropping into a grove of large banana trees. A newcomer to the western world, they grew in abundance here. Today, I was grateful for their thickened corms and blades, which obscured us from whatever was shuffling around the forest floor just ahead.

      I stole forward, pausing only at a light touch on my shoulder. I shook my head abruptly before returning my gaze to my path. Max had always struggled to accept my need to look after myself, but it was one thing I couldn’t compromise on. Like those words.

      The pounding in my ears steadily increased as we crept forward beneath the swollen leaves, and each careful footstep seemed to sound as loudly as a felled tree branch. But as the interwoven leaves thinned I glimpsed bright colours that made my hairs strain to attention, until finally as I pulled aside the last fronds, there was a sharp gasp. It took a couple of seconds for me to realize it was my own.

      I’d seen nothing and no one from Pantheon in a year and yet, somehow, I was staring straight into the archaic eyes of one of Octavia’s flying watchdogs of the night.

       A haga.

      It threw back its crested heads as our eyes connected, one microsecond before it crowed its aggression to a group of red pandas above. They scattered while we stared, mesmerized by the impressive newcomer, which was as alien to its forest surroundings as ever a creature could be.

      It reached head and shoulders above any man or woman in Arafel, and had a wingspan that extended beyond twice that of a natural eagle. It was also one of the creatures August had sworn to keep within the world of Pantheon, despite my protest that the natural world would survive if he threw open the doors. Its containment was one of the fundamental reasons August had stayed behind; so what, in the name of Arafel, was it doing out here?

      But I had no time to think. The question was crushed by a sudden leaden weight around my shoulders, sending me careering forward into the lush green grass as a muffled exclamation filled the air. Blindly, I wrestled against my assassin. He was small and lithe, but uncannily fierce, and it took all my strength to thrust him backwards. I was on my feet and spinning around in a heartbeat; just in time to witness Max force his attacker to his knees. He had autumn skin, and curious inked drawings all over his arms and neck. He wasn’t from Arafel.

      I shot a look at my own combatant, who was drawing himself up to his feet. Her feet. I caught my breath again. Our eyes locked, and the forest melted away until there was only the heated rush of recognition. Then there was a brief stunned silence, before I forged forward to wrap myself fiercely around her slight frame.

      ‘Ow! You still have a ridiculously strong grip for a girl!’ she complained, detangling herself.

      I chuckled, releasing her.

      ‘Like you can talk, General!’ I shot back, recovering myself.

      The grin illuminating Aelia’s elfin face faded a little, and I was suddenly acutely aware of her jaded appearance. Her clothing was even more tattered and stained than I remembered, and she looked tired, deathly tired.

      ‘Are you hurt? How did you find us? Are we really to believe you somehow made it over the mountains on a haga?’ I fired incredulously.

      Everyone knew the North Mountains were precipitous and unforgiving; their dangerous peaks and terrains had always been our protection. That a girl on a mythical bird could navigate her way over them seemed impossible. Yet here Aelia stood. A miracle, and an ominous threat.

      Her eyes gleamed with adventure, and a sleepy dragonfly flapped its wings against the inside of my ribcage. I couldn’t imagine how it had taken me so long to work out Aelia was August’s Prolet-born sister. They shared the same shrewd wit, and eyes the colour of an Arafel dawn. And right now, they were more unsettling than I cared to admit.

      ‘Max! Let Rajid go. He’s got the most awesome Cerberus ink you’ve ever seen!’ she admonished, stepping across to them.

      I watched Max relinquish his prize, before catching her up in an affectionate, slightly awkward hug.

      ‘Hey, Lia, wish you’d said you were popping in. I would have gone all out for a brace of rabbits instead of fresh trout!’ He winked, holding out a conciliatory hand.

      The inked man shook his head and jumped to his feet in one agile move, rubbing his neck.

      ‘And if I’d known you were cooking, I’d have worn my best Prolet dress and booked the sky train instead of an oversized pigeon with no sense of direction!’ she retorted.

      They grinned, and not for the first time I acknowledged just how suited they were. In another time and space they would have been perfect for one another.

      ‘Tal, there’s a lot to say. But probably … not here?’ She frowned, shooting a look at Rajid. ‘And this big pigeon over here needs some attention. It was cold up there. His flight feathers took a little frosting from the northerly winds.’ She ran her hands over the exhausted haga.

      I nodded briefly, collecting my wayward thoughts. Aelia was here, and she had to have a burning reason to risk her life over the mountains on the back of a haga.

      ‘Yes, of course! And Eli will take a look at the … bird. Will it follow? We can take it straight to the animal infirmary.’

      Over the past year, Eli’s animal whispering had matured into full-time veterinary care in a purpose-built hut he and Max had built near Arafel’s centre. All the villagers trusted him with their livestock, and he never seemed to be at a loss for a diagnosis or treatment, despite being entirely self-taught.

      I shot a look at Max, his grin saying it all.

      ‘And then I think Max has promised you trout,’ I added.

      A golden pheasant peeped among the crickets as we followed the quickest path back through the forest, silenced only by a pair of amorous rainbow lorikeets. Aelia broke off our conversation to better watch their dance against the cornflower sky, unfettered by СКАЧАТЬ