Gale had lied to her.
Tempest rubbed her tense shoulders, stretching her wings. Gale stood beside her, his car parked a few miles back. The ride had dragged on for so long, by the end of it she was about two seconds from clawing at the handle and flying the rest of the way herself. She most certainly did not regret the many tears her feathers had left in his seats.
Everything seemed so much faster here on the ground. She had stared out the darkened windows as the landscape blurred around them. Anything they passed was gone in seconds. Other cars kept pace with them for much of the journey. At first, Tempest flinched away.
Gale had laughed, saying something about the tint on the windows and how no human would be able to see inside unless they were inches away. Hesitantly, she studied the other cars on the road, more colors and shapes than she could remember.
From the sky, the vehicles appeared to plod along as slow as snails. Even at her slowest, she usually outpaced them by a wide margin. Still, they were much faster than she remembered. She winced, still feeling a bit sick from the drive. Much faster.
She had the supreme displeasure to ride in a car one time before. Maybe half a dozen decades ago, maybe more. Tempest wasn't the greatest about keeping track of time. The sun rose, the sun fell. The moon rose, the moon fell. Seasons wound in an endless loop. Fires burned, storms brewed, life blossomed and finally died.
Back when Whirlwind was young, the humans were still slaying each other with single-shot guns. A fresh war killed more humans in sprawling battlefields that soaked parts of the world in scarlet. Metal pathways crossed the civilized portions that carried roaring snakes of metal. Trains. Their empty tracks were chains that humanity built across the very land they called home.
Tempest had ridden in something like cars way back then. Its pace was barely faster than walking, and it was pulled by beasts. She still remembered the way the carriage jolted her this way and that against its flimsy walls. The movements had made her just as ill.
Gale had that meeting with her to warn her. The humans are spiraling out of control, he cautioned. Their technologies were advancing too fast to counter, and she had to see it with her own eyes. That was over a century ago. Now, he constantly updated her of new threats, many of which even she couldn't understand. Most of her sisters considered the modern human sciences to be bordering upon magic untouched by nature or deities.
The present rushed back to meet her as Gale's hands found her shoulders, massaging them. He still knew better than to touch her wings. "Sorry sis," he said, his baritone voice sincere. Tempest relaxed under his touch as she studied the squat and blocky building before them. She sank onto her heels, resting her feet in the marshy earth.
"So this is it then?" Gale tensed behind her, his breath the only indication of his discomfort. It was something only an Avi would notice. She sent a soothing breeze through his hair, but she felt just as uneasy. Unwelcome memories drew closer from the situation at hand.
"This is probably where they took her, yeah." Gale shifted to stand at her side again, his arms crossed. He tapped his booted foot on the floor as he peered through the foliage, sensing the wind brushing the building. "This is a humanoid research facility, meant for low-risk containment."
"What do you think they're do-" Tempest cut her sentence in half as the outside door swung open and a petite human wheeling boxes pushed through. The two Avi ducked behind trees instinctively. It was unlikely the human would spot them, but if they did, the consequences could be catastrophic for their sister.
Tempest had mixed feelings for their betrayer. Though her heart burned with hurt, and she was sure she could tear Summer apart herself, something within Tempest's warrior soul objected fundamentally to whatever torture these humans would inflict upon Summer. She was still family, and though her honor was already dead and buried, the Avi deserved a quick end.
So Tempest had quietly reached out to Gale. He was the only one she felt she could trust with this. The wind itself enjoyed a good gossip. She hadn't informed any of her other siblings. Most of her family had figured out Summer's betrayal, but there was an unspoken agreement between them to keep Whirlwind out of the loop. The little Avi adored Summer. She would puzzle it out eventually, preferably years down the line.
Gale had lived through the same horrors she had. They were the oldest Avi left, created near the beginning of time. There wasn't a story told that they couldn't breathe life into. They had survived humans, suffered harm at their hands. Many had not been so fortunate. Tempest would fight tooth and claw to protect her siblings from the scars she bore even to this day.
Her sable wings trembled with adrenaline. Her javelin found its familiar place in her grasp. The trees around them groaned in a sudden gust. It was Gale's turn to comfort Tempest, speaking without words in their native tongue. The human offloaded the boxes merrily into a truck, blissfully unaware.
The female managed her task with efficiency, lingering outdoors for a few minutes that stretched like hours before vanishing into the building. The Avi let out sighs, both for different reasons. Now that they were here, Tempest's least favorite part of any battle would begin. She hated strategy. Her blood called for violence, not planning.
Gale rubbed his hands together, gears turning in his head. "Let's crack this place wide open."