Wings (A Black City Novel)

by Elizabeth Richards

  “Lucinda will go back to Icarus tonight, after we’ve rescued her sister,” Theora explains.

  “Is this girl who you’ve been sneaking out to see, son?” Penn says.

  Kieran grips his side. “Argh, Dad, can we talk about this later? I’m sort of bleeding here.” His knees buckle and his father grabs him.

  “Take him to my house, Penn. It’s closer,” Alaric says. “Put him in Naomi’s room.”

  Ulrika flinches at the sound of her sister’s name but doesn’t protest as her uncle carries Kieran into a nearby house with a yellow door. As soon as they’re gone, Alaric turns to me.

  “You’ve got some nerve coming here, boy!” he growls.

  “I invited him,” Theora explains. “We were being chased by hunters. I couldn’t leave Edmund and Lucinda in the woods. It wasn’t safe.”

  Alaric looks questioningly at me. “What’s going on?”

  “The Guild sent a hunting party to kill you, as payback for last night.” I tell them everything, starting with what happened to Naomi during Mrs. Hope’s funeral, right through to now, leaving nothing out. Alaric’s eyes widen as he learns I’m part Darkling, while Ulrika scowls. “They took Lucinda’s sister, and they’re going to kill my grandfather.”

  Alaric pinches the bridge of his nose. “This whole thing has turned into such a mess. I should never have trusted Hector to sort this out. He lied to the Guild about our deal, and now my little girl is . . .” He winces. “But I thought he cared about his people.”

  “He does,” I say. “My grandfather’s devoted his whole life to the people of Amber Hills . . .”

  Alaric furrows his heavy brow at me. “I wasn’t talking about them.”

  “Who did you mean, then?” I say, confused.

  He spreads his arms wide, like he’s gesturing toward the whole village. I blink, perplexed, and then it slowly sinks in what he means as I stare at the man’s silver eyes—silver, just like my mom’s, like my grandfather’s, like mine. I stagger back as the truth hits me. I’m part Lupine.

  19.

  EDMUND

  “HOW CAN MY GRANDFATHER be a Lupine? He doesn’t look anything like you,” I say. Except, I realize he does. He has the same steel-gray eyes as Alaric and he’s tall too.

  “Hector’s a hybrid,” Alaric explains. “His father was human.”

  I furrow my brow. So if my grandfather’s a hybrid, like Theora, that means I’m a . . . what? They don’t even have a word for someone like me: half Darkling, with a generous pinch of human and a dash of Lupine. Blend ingredients together to make Edmund Rose.

  “I thought you knew,” Alaric says.

  “No,” I mutter. “Grandfather’s never spoken about my great-grandparents, so I had no idea one of them was a Lupine.” All I know is that he was orphaned as a baby and raised by an uncle in Carrow Falls, who died of yellowpox when my grandfather was just fifteen. He moved to Amber Hills and worked as an apprentice for one of the original members of the Guild, got married when he was nineteen, then took the preacher’s job after his young bride died while giving birth to my mom. And that’s everything I know. Why didn’t he tell me what he was? My blood simmers, stung by his betrayal, but it also explains why he’s been so accepting of me all these years. We’re the same. Freaks.

  “So who was my great-grandmother?” I ask.

  Alaric ushers us toward the stone building that his brother, Penn, and Kieran just went into. Ulrika pushes past me, bumping my shoulder—I can’t tell if it’s on purpose or not; I might be part of the pack now, but that doesn’t mean she trusts me—and enters the house before me. Theora gives me a reassuring smile as we follow her.

  The hallway is cramped and dark and cluttered with furniture. Alaric slings his jacket over the coatrack by the door before leading us to the living room at the end of the corridor. We pass a reception room along the way. The door is open, and I stop midstride. Lying on the table is Naomi’s body, shrouded in a muslin cloth and surrounded by pine wreaths. Ulrika shuts the door, grief burning in her silver eyes.

  “We can’t cremate her until tomorrow’s full moon,” Theora says. “It’s Lupine tradition.”

  “I’m really sorry,” I mutter, my words falling flat.

  Theora frowns. “It’s not your fault.”

  No, it’s my grandfather’s fault for agreeing to let the Lupines take our people to give to Icarus to feed on. I still don’t understand why he felt the need to be so underhanded about this whole situation and hide the Darklings’ return from everyone, including me. If he’d just been honest, maybe Catherine and Naomi would still be alive.

  We head into the living room. The floors are all made of stone, so there’s a cold, damp chill in the air. Old photographs and paintings of Lupines cram every inch of wall space.

  “Who are all these people?” I ask.

  “Our pack,” Alaric says, lifting a pile of books from a chair and indicating for me to sit down. Lucinda plops down in the seat before I have a chance to take it. Instead, I find a place to sit on a striped purple sofa next to Theora. Ulrika takes a seat in the leather chair beside the fireplace and puts her feet up on the coffee table. She pulls a dagger out of her belt and digs it into the armrest, her angry eyes fixed on Lucinda.

  Alaric plucks a circle-shaped picture frame from the wall, and passes the photograph to me. The picture is clearly old, with faded sepia tones and mildew beginning to bloom on the decaying paper. A beautiful young Lupine smiles back at me, dressed in a very uncomfortable-looking dress with big ruffled sleeves and a high collar. Her mane has been neatly braided.

  “That’s Prudence Black. Your great-grandmother,” he says. “She was our pack leader, until she died. The position should have gone down to her son, Hector, but he was just a baby at the time and the bloodline ended with him. So he was sent to Carrow Falls to live with his human uncle, and the job of pack leader went to the next family in line. My family. We invited Hector to stay with us after we learned his uncle had died, but he refused. He’d moved to Amber Hills by this stage and was happy there.”

  “What about my great-grandfather? Who was he?” I ask.

  Alaric shrugs. “Just some farmer from Carrow Falls. He died of tuberculosis a few months before Hector was born.”

  I look up. “My grandfather’s the rightful pack leader?”

  Alaric’s mouth tightens. “Yes. But he refused the position when he came of age.”

  I glance down at the photograph of my great-grandmother. Why did Grandfather choose to stay in Amber Hills, under the Guild’s oppressive regime, instead of returning to his family, here? Then it hits me. He’d met my grandmother. He stayed for love. I wonder if his wife knew what he was. Probably; I can’t imagine he could keep it a secret from her. I pass the photograph back to Alaric, and he places it on the wall.

  I notice a newer photograph on the mantel above the fireplace. It’s of Naomi. She’s got her arms slung around Ulrika and Theora. They’re all grinning up at the camera. Alaric follows my gaze, and grief crosses his features when he sees the photos.

  “Why did Icarus have to come back,” he says, his voice broken. “My beautiful girl would still be with us if he’d just stayed away.”

  “Why don’t we ask Kieran’s ‘friend’?” Ulrika says, sliding a look at Lucinda.

  She sinks back in her seat. “He came back for his son. A boy from Amber—oh!” Lucinda looks at me. “It’s you.”

  My heart freezes. Icarus is my father. So that’s why Grandfather has been desperate to keep Icarus’s return a secret from the Guild? He was terrified they’d find out I’m part Darkling and kill me. I cradle my head in my hands. It’s a lot to take in. I’m the reason Icarus has returned and the reason Naomi and all the others are dead.

  “Why has he come back for you now?” Alaric says. “It’s been eighteen years.”

  I look at Lucinda, hoping for some
answers. “It’s custom for the firstborn son of the clan leader to take a blood oath when he turns eighteen, basically promising that he’ll lead the clan when his father dies. It’s a stuffy old tradition, but Icarus really believes in it. And you’re his only son.”

  “I turned eighteen last month,” I mutter.

  “He’s been trying to see you for weeks,” Lucinda adds. “He sent a message to your grandfather when we first arrived, asking to meet with you, but your grandfather refused.”

  “He said ‘it was time,’ that’s all,” Lucinda says.

  Ulrika leans forward. “If Icarus is so desperate to see Edmund, why didn’t he just go to Amber Hills and talk to him directly, mmm?”

  “Uh, because the Guild would try and kill us?” Lucinda replies. “Uncle Icarus didn’t come back here to start a fight with them, if it could be avoided—our people suffered at their hands during the Misery as much as they did ours. Plus, he wanted his son to come back to him willingly; it’s part of the ritual—his son must ‘return to the fold of his own free will and accept his burden as leader,’ or something,” she continues. “He just wanted to talk to Edmund and then we’d be on our way. But his patience is wearing thin; he’s really mad at Edmund’s grandfather.”

  “And while Icarus was waiting around to talk to Edmund, he was snatching our people to feed on, so the Guild wouldn’t suspect he was back?” Ulrika throws her hands up. “Nice, real fragging nice.”

  I glance at Alaric. My grandfather had tried to rectify the situation, by allowing the Lupines to take a few sick and elderly people from Amber Hills to offer to Icarus instead. As long as the Guild believed the Lupines were behind the kidnappings, there was no reason for them to know the Darklings were back and question why Icarus was here. My grandfather did all of this to protect me. He probably hoped Icarus would get the hint and leave, but the situation spiraled out of his control.

  “You have to believe me; I had no idea about any of this,” I say to the group.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Edmund,” Theora says, lightly placing her hand over mine.

  Ulrika notices the gesture and narrows her eyes.

  Theora turns to Alaric. “What are we going to do about Lucinda’s sister and Hector? We only have until noon tomorrow to rescue them.”

  Alaric sighs. “I’m not so certain we should be getting involved—”

  Lucinda flashes a panicked look at Theora. “But you promised! If Annora dies, Uncle Icarus will feel forced to retaliate, that’s just how he is.”

  “It’ll be the Misery all over again,” Theora says.

  “I’ll take Annora to Icarus myself and end this,” I say to Alaric. “No more people have to die. All I ask is that you let my grandfather stay with you; he’ll have nowhere else to go.”

  Alaric thinks about this for a moment, then nods. “I need to run that past the League first.” I’m assuming the League is the Lupine’s equivalent of our Guild. “I’ll go talk to them now. We’ll leave at nightfall.” With that Alaric sweeps out of the room.

  As soon as he’s gone, Ulrika yanks her dagger out of her armrest and tucks it back into her belt. She stands up. “I’m going to check up on Kieran.”

  Lucinda follows her without asking for permission, leaving me and Theora alone in the dark, cluttered room. A grandfather clock ticks loudly in the corner of the room. I’m suddenly aware how closely we’re sitting together on the sofa; there are just a few purple stripes between us. Theora shifts and her knee touches mine. I swallow, unable to focus on anything but that one inch of skin where our legs are pressed together. I lift my eyes and hold her gaze. Blood rushes into her cheeks and she looks away, but a faint smile flitters over her lips. There’s an awkward pause as neither of us knows what to say.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” she finally says, standing up.

  Outside, the Lupines are still busy cleaning up the mess made by the earthquake, so they don’t pay us any attention as we stroll through the village. We pass a house covered entirely in wisteria and Theora brushes her hand over the violet flowers, releasing their sharp honey scent. An old woman with a long gray mane is standing on the front porch, picking up fragments of broken potted plants. Scattered around her feet are hundreds of orchid petals.

  “Oh no,” Theora says, her lips turning down. “Those were Hettie’s pride and joy. She must be devastated.”

  She hurries up the porch steps while I wait at the bottom, uncertain whether I should join her or not. I watch as Theora quietly offers words of comfort to the old woman. Looking at her now, it strikes me how much she reminds me of Catherine. They both have kind hearts. Theora didn’t have to bring me back here; she could have easily left me in the woods, with nowhere to go. But instead she’s helping me and Lucinda, despite what we are. The old lady dabs her eyes and smiles at Theora. They briefly hug, and then Theora joins me again. We continue our walk through the village.

  “Where are we going?” I ask as we approach the outskirts.

  Theora grins. “Are you afraid of heights?”

  “No,” I say, getting a bad feeling.

  She gestures for me to follow her up a flight of stone steps that are carved into the mountainside. We climb the steps for several minutes, walking side by side, despite there not really being enough space for the two of us. Occasionally the backs of our hands brush against each other and my stomach swirls, like I’m going to be sick, but not in a bad way. I desperately want to lace my fingers through hers, but that’s insane! I don’t even know this girl, yet every part of me is aching to touch her.

  I’m out of breath by the time we reach the top of the steps, but Theora’s hardly broken a sweat. We’re on a rocky outcrop several hundred feet above the Lupine village. Up here, the air is much thinner and I feel dizzy, although that might just be because I’m standing close to Theora. The sky overhead is cloudy and gray, and there’s a weird eggy smell in the air like there was at the waterfall where we’d set up camp earlier. It’s a little disconcerting, especially after the earthquake, but nobody seems that worried about it, other than me. Maybe it’s normal; I don’t know. Until today, I’d never ventured outside the walls of Amber Hills, so perhaps the air up here always smells like this? It’s crazy to think how much has happened since then: I’ve met Theora, gotten a heartbeat and now I’m a wanted man.

  “This is what I wanted to show you,” Theora says, gesturing toward a circular building on the edge of the precipice. The building has no walls; it’s just a domed roof held up by several marble columns. “This is our temple.”

  “Oh,” I say, still trying to catch my breath from the hike. “Pretty.”

  Theora laughs slightly as we enter the temple. From here, we can see right across the Forest of Shadows. In the far distance, I can see the Boundary Wall surrounding Amber Hills.

  “You can see where I live from here.” I point toward the spire of my grandfather’s church, which pokes above the wall. Grief suddenly rips through me as I realize that I can never go back there. I’m homeless. Instinctively, I clasp the circle pendant around my neck. It always gives me comfort when I’m feeling lost or frightened.

  “What is that?” Theora asks, pointing to my pendant.

  “It’s the symbol of my faith,” I say. “Everyone in Amber Hills follows the Purity.”

  “The Purity?”

  “We believe that the Darklings are demons sent from hell to corrupt our souls.” I attempt a smile, but it quickly fades on my lips.

  Theora looks at me, a small crease between her white brows. “You believe that, despite what you are?”

  “Especially because of what I am,” I say. “My faith keeps me pure. It helps me control my urges so I don’t hurt people. It works.” I imagine the sound of Catherine’s neck snapping. “Well, most of the time.”

  Theora frowns. “I couldn’t imagine living like that. Having to hide what I am, for fear of being kil
led.” She takes my hand and my heart stutters. “You must have been very lonely.”

  She releases my hand and lies down on the marble floor, patting the ground beside her. I lie down. The stone is icy cold against my back, but I don’t want to miss this opportunity to be next to Theora. We’re lying so close together, my left arm is pressing up against her right one, but she doesn’t make any attempt to move hers away. I smile and face the ceiling. The domed roof has been painted like the night sky, with pearls embedded into it to replicate stars. In the center of the roof is a hole, so you can see the actual sky.

  “My people . . . our people,” she corrects, “worship the goddess Luna. And every month, at the full moon, you can see her face perfectly through that hole.” Theora tilts her head toward me. Our eyes lock and I get that jittery feeling in my stomach again. Up close, I realize her eyes aren’t silver but steel-gray with these tiny metallic flecks in them, like the tinsel we use during Winterfest. “This is my favorite place in the whole world,” she whispers.

  “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

  She smiles faintly. “I thought you’d like to know a little bit about your heritage.” Her smile fades and she’s quiet for a while.

  “What are you thinking about?” I ask her.

  “Icarus,” she says. “You do know when you bring Annora back to him tonight, he’s going to expect you to leave with him?”

  “I know. But I don’t have a choice,” I say. “The longer he’s here, the more danger the Lupines and people of Amber Hills are in. I can’t have any more blood on my hands.” I think of Mrs. Hope and Naomi.

  We fall into a long silence as we just gaze at each other. Her eyes drift over the old burn marks on my cheeks, along the wide line of my mouth, up my narrow nose, back to my eyes.

  “What happened?” she says. I know she’s referring to the burns.

  “My mom dropped me into a tub of scalding water,” I say. “Do my scars bother you?”

  She shakes her head.