"Welcome!" Boomed Herald Hash's voice across the stone field of Grimstaf VI. "Welcome to the tenth annual festival games! Today, our fifty-two contestants will compete to determine the two fittest candidates to ascend beyond the realm of winged men—to lay claim to the prize that awaits those who persevere and reach the highest heights."

Somehow, the Magnates were amplifying the gray-haired herald's voice past the limits of his tin megaphone. Thousands of sky dwellers ringed the arena, some in the bleachers, some hovering in the sky above. They had been specifically instructed to keep out of the arena and the sunlight's path so as not to interfere with the games, but there were no further stipulations.

Arthur Lightwing sat in the north stands, which were spaced far enough from the southern stands so as to allow the Sun's morning light to shine in from the east. The Sun was glaring as it filtered through the wispy clouds, as though angry at being awoken—as Arthur himself could understand. He was not used to getting up this early on a day off. After a rough week at work, mining the exterior of the island and collecting the ever growing fan crystals and gemstones, he'd prefer to just sleep in. Anything but coming here to stress over his son's safety.

The black-haired man reached down, laying a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "He'll come out soon, Floris," he said over the roar of excited crowds all around them, both above and below. Whenever that old coot is done talking, anyway. Like many of the others, the Lightwings had arrived early enough to grab good seating, though he was now coming to regret his choice not to simply hover above in the air. What was treading air for a few hours if it meant getting a better view and less noise? Although . . . Looking upward at the winged forms dotting the sky, he realized that it might get a bit crowded even up there. Surely more Tapiq folk had turned out today than on any other Festival day he could remember.

Down below, the youths made their out onto the platform from a waiting area behind the southern bleachers. Floris began to say something, but Pim shushed her, watching intently. The rest of the crowd hushed as well, lowering to a loud murmur, as the Herald exited the east-central platform, and then roared and cheered as the contestants emerged. Magnate Donnor took Hash's place on the platform, the only indication to Arthur that the so-called Herald was done, because he hadn't even been listening to the man. But a Magnate should have something important to say.

"My good Tapiq citizens." The black-winged leader gravelly voice rang out loud and crisp as he gestured about the expansive arena with a hand. "As you well know, this has been appointed a special day, not by we humble Magnates, but by the Lords Above themselves. The year-to-year proceedings are changed henceforth, and future Festival competitions . . . who can say what they shall be like? But as for today, I will endeavor to explain the proceedings:

"The events will be threefold—A large team trial, an elite team trial, and a final trial. The rules of each shall be explained as we go. That was part of the intent behind the changes made: the contestants have no idea what they are getting themselves into, other than having been warned of the danger in advance. Should anything highly unusual occur—or outside the bounds of protocol—something that interrupts or interferes with the games themselves, we reserve the right to hold yet another challenge tomorrow to decide the victor in truth and fairness.

"For the first trial! We shall be weeding out the weak from the strong, and many will fail, whether by injury, resignation or Magnate discretion, we shall see. The remaining contestants, no matter the team they were on, shall proceed to the second trial. There shall be constructed a field with fortifications for two opposing armies of twenty-six randomly-selected contestants, each in one corner of the map. A Ward shall be placed one hundred feet up and circumscribing the arena, and any attempts to pass beyond will result in instant failure, even if one is thrown into the Ward.

"The goal of the game is simple: Reach the opposing team's two treasures and return them to your own base. This will result in a pass for all team members . . . If neither team accomplishes this goal, the judges will call the game when the number of conscious and qualified contestants reaches twenty persons. We will be assessing individual performance of teammates during this test, so be aware. Oh, and one last note to our elementalist contestants: your abilities will be negated for the duration of this first trial. Not banned, but negated entirely. It is important that any potential explorers learn how to function without this crutch.

Cries of shock and indignation erupted from the crowds, and Arthur could see the group of contestants, who stood impatiently near the speaking Magnate, erupt in much the same manner, calling out unfairness and gesturing angrily. I certainly didn't expect this. Arthur looked to his wife, who gave him a 'Well, I guess we'll see' look. Their son and his best friend would be unhindered by the handicap, and there was a good chance their team would win, if indeed . . . well, they would see how the teams were divided.

Donnor made no remarks to the obvious reaction from both spectators and contestants, instead departing and allowing Melka to take his place. "Quiet, please," she said, her cutting feminine voice ringing over the entire arena floor and hushing the winged folk. "We understand that some objections to the rules are unavoidable, but you all knew that the rules had yet to be announced. Don't embarrass yourselves with complaining."

She proceeded to single out contestants, motioning them toward one side of her or the other. Solis was taken on the right, Phoenix Dolce on the left. There were a few faces, far away though they were, that Arthur recognized but couldn't quite put a name to. Some younger and some as much as ten years older than the boys. Telsan was taken on the left, same as Phoenix. A handful of them were girls and women. There was even a very young boy, perhaps nine or ten, which shocked him and particularly Pim, though he didn't recognize him. The boy was taken on Solis' side.

When the teams were finalized, standing and shifting and glaring at one another and their teammates, Melka had the left team depart for the southern area of the arena. A minute later, she gestured with her hands and the arena floor burst into motion. Walls seemed to sprout up from the surface, which was already elevated or de-elevated in places, sectioning off halls, courtyards and larger open spaces. Next, a barrier spiked up diagonally across the middle, reaching some twenty feet and rushing from the southeast corner to the northwest. Though some walls and tunnels could be obscuring hidden entrances, it seemed there was no way past the wall but over it, since the Wards created solid boundaries punishable by disqualification.

Fortifications rose near the four corners, three per side and varying in height and complexity. Some seemed to nearly graze the upper Ward, so the combatants would have to be careful about that. Magnate Melka had also announced that no physical violence would specifically get a player disqualified, but all personal sportsmanship and performance would be taken into account. It sounded far too . . . lenient toward the more ruthless players, a notion which had Pim biting her nails like a beaver at a tree.

Melka ended the the introductory part with a call for those objecting to the proceedings to leave now. There was a minute of awkward silence, and a few did indeed get up and leave, but most were either too fascinated to leave now.

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"Father, do you think they're going to be OK?" Floris asked in the relative silence, looking up at him.

"They've practiced a lot, dear." That was the most reassuring thing he could think of to say.

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Sol waved at Phoenix and Telsan, giving them a nervous smile that was meant to be reassuring. They had known full well that the Magnates would not allow them to be on the same team if group events were involved, and the only uncertainty was who would be on what side. Though Solis had guessed correctly. Daryn Gobross and one of his buddies was on the northwest team, while Filian Cornel's little gang was complete on the other diagonal side. Random chance? The spoiled brat gave him a smug chin-raise as he caught his eye. Around Solis, twenty-four youths and would-be youths and one . . . very familiar boy . . . stood, muttering to themselves and each other about their chances and the motive-guessing the Magnates' choices. With a sigh, Solis looked down at the ten-year-old. "Lane, what do you think you're doing?"

The kid shrugged. "At least ya remembered my name."

Solis rolled his eyes. Now he would have to protect this kid and figure out how to keep himself and his friends in the running. Wait . . . Or I could just slam him up against the Wards at the first opportunity. That would keep him safe and get him out of the running. Double win.

"And don't even think about trying to get me disqualified," Lane said, taking hold of his arm. "Come on, we're on a team, right? You wouldn't try something like that?"

Solis narrowed his eyes. "I never said nothing. But yeah, I'll keep you safe. Don't worry. You're more than useless without your snowman powers. You think they're actually . . . ?"

A tall young woman shoulder-checked him. "Hey, doofus, we're moving out now."

He spun at Erika Dolce's voice. He'd been ignoring her ever since she was picked for his team—he liked to think of it as his, anyway, though he was certain she felt the same way. She spared him no more than a glance before taking to the air along with the collective rush of feathers. Ten or so grumbling, wingless elementalists were left, including Lane. "Sorry, guys," Solis said with a shrug, taking off.

As he flew toward the northeast corner, he looked back and shared a helpless look with Phoenix. She shrugged and set off the other way at a run. They'd have to coordinate somehow, if he could manage it. If not, they'd just try to stay in it and win. Hash had announced that the two final contestants would pass on into the Earth, but who knew how closely the Magnates would stick to their word on that.

Team Northwest's main fortress, where they gathered as their base, was built of winding stone walls of varying height that changed course with each story. A lopsided mountain of a structure, and a near-labyrinth at the bottom. There were three main stories, each around the same size as the one beneath, and the walls that did not connect back on themselves instead reached out and down, connecting with lower walls. It was like a large playground where the children (who were the elementalists in this case) had to climb upward. At the top, a tower reached up an additional two or three stories, ringed by battlements at the top.

The winged teammates were gathering at the third level. Solis landed, as had a couple others, on one of the wall segments that reached up against the tower. Other wall branches ringed most of the sides, with slitted windows and small doorways out. Multiple faces looked at him with annoyance, distaste or rivalry. Already getting a good feeling about my team . . .

Erika, who had gotten there before him and was the only elementalist currently among the group, turned to Solis and said, "Well, Lightwing? Who's going to be our leader?"

Somebody snickered from the corner, but Solis didn't recognize his ugly mug. Two boys spoke up, nominating themselves, one being Daryn Gobross and the other a youth named Skip. Skippy? Something like that.

"I think it should be myself," Erika suggested, gesturing toward her favorite person with what was probably meant to look like humility.

Solis snorted.

"Yeah, but I'd snap you like a twig in a fight," said Daryn Gobross. The beefy boy popped his knuckles menacingly at her, shrugging a challenge, then turned to Skip. "Same with you."

"Oh yeah?" Skip stepped toward him. Though fit and long-winged, his build did not match Daryn's as well as his cockiness.

Erika didn't move, but sighed instead. "I'm the smartest here. That's why I should lead. I can achieve a sure victory for our team."

Lane raised a hand. "My nana always said people who call themselves smart usually aren't."

"Shut up, kid," Solis muttered. "But seriously, Erika, I thought you were studying diplomacy, not warfare."

"Oh trust me, my people are cutthroat back on Fenaback." In the moment of silence the boys gave her, she turned, eyeing the approaching wingless Northeasters. "Oh look, here come the stragglers. You know . . . there is one way to up our chances of victory."

Gobross' disapproving scowl turned to a grin. "Now I'm liking how you think."

"No!" Solis shouted, stepping between them. Two others echoed his dissent. "Are you touched or something? We're on a team and trying to win. We don't just attack each other."

Erika narrowed her blue eyes at him. "I'm trying to win as well. I'm convinced that, with the right tactics, we can do that—with or without the help of extra deadweight. But don't worry, I wasn't serious like this moron. Really, Gobross? Taking out our own team members before the enemy get here? That's genius. I'll be back." With that, the tall Dolce woman leapt from the southern battlements, presumably to direct the newcomers upward.

Daryn's friend, whose name Solis couldn't recall, looked awkwardly around, while another boy said, "Really, guys. That's kind of . . . that should be obvious. Don't hurt your teammates."

Much nodding ensued. Somehow, Solis got the idea that not everyone was in agreement.

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CHARACTERS

* Solis Lightwing (SOLE-iss)—The main character, a white-winged boy of unceasing curiosity who longs to see inside the forbidden Earth.

* Telsan (TELL-suhn)—Solis’ best friend, a young man of the Bird Tribe.

* Phoenix Dolce (DOLE-chay)—Friend of Solis and Telsan, a Flameborn girl of sixteen years. Daughter of Falla Dolce.

* Pim Lightwing—Daughter of Fey of Longfell and mother of Solis and Floris.

* Arthur Lightwing—An exterior miner, husband of Pim, head of the Lightwing household.

* Faridi (fuh-RID-ee)—A Tapiq man who frequently volunteers for lookout duty.

* Colla—A female Tapiq; often works with Faridi.

* Melka—One of the three living Tapiq Magnates.

* Donnor—Said to be the eldest of the three living Magnates.

* Spore—One of the three living Magnates. Doesn’t say much.

* Fey—Solis’ deceased grandmother, a former Magnate.

* Floris—Solis' younger sister. 11 years old; aspires to be a physician.

* Caris—Eldest of the three Lightwing children, now married and residing in the neighboring Tapiq village of Dram.

* Falla Dolce—Phoenix's mother, a Dustborn from a powerful elementalist family of Fenaback. Kept her family name due to unfortunate events she'd rather leave buried.

TERMS

* Earth, The—An immeasurable continent that looms over the entire sky. Forbidden to all save those whom the Magnates choose each year.

* Tapiq (tuh-PEEK)—The tribe of winged men who dwell in Ameros and the surrounding islands. As with most tribes, they have adopted some from other tribes and races as their own, while others are visitors.

* Ornis—Also called the Bird Tribe, though this isn’t entirely accurate, as there are multiple; most simply live farther north.

* Hiding, The—The six hours in the middle of the day when the Sun’s low-angled course takes it behind the infinite cloud layer that looms beneath the sky world.

* Magnate—One of the three living souls of the Tapiq tribe who have ascended to the Earth and returned, bearing supposedly infinite knowledge that they choose to keep hidden.

* Ameros (AM-uh-ros)—Largest island in the southeastern quadrant of the sky, where the Tapiq village of Megeth lies.

* Megeth (Meh-GETH)—Capital city of the Tapiq people.

* Grimstaf VI (GRIM-stahf six)—An artificial island created west of Ameros by the Harbinger.

* Elementalist—One born with a Kinship to an elemental force. They usually lack wings.

KINSHIPS

* Flameborn—Kin of flame. They form their own wings as needed from tongues of fire that sprout from their backs.

* Dustborn—Artists of soil and dust. They fly with wings created from nearby dust particles.

* Windborn—Wind kin. Unlike other elementalists, these often grow wings just like any other, though some possess heightened abilities allowing them to fly without wings—and thus lacking them.

* Waveborn (aka Watchers)—Keepers of the invisible wards that protect the sky islands from falling hazards. Also, those with the rare ability of sound manipulation.

* Dewborn—These control moisture and redirect water.

* Stormborn—Creators of small storms and electrical currents.

* Snowborn—Bringers of frost and snow on a small scale.

* Sunborn—Manipulators of light.

* Beastborn—These rare kind, seen largely in the northwestern isles, come in different orders according to a certain class of living creature.

* Cragborn—Manipulators of stone.