Kaybree Versus the Angels

by Harrison Paul

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  A Friend That Can Fly

  I headed to the Bard Song that night. My muscles still ached from the fight, but I felt surprisingly awake as I cut through the quiet alleys that led to the tavern. I'd found that this was a more direct route than the channel, and besides, my mother didn't give me enough money to spend it on longship rides. I glanced back once more at the sagekeep, its figure looming in the moonlight. I'd checked every entrance to the sagekeep, and didn't see any bugs or rats lurking around. Also, with a legion of knights marching through the halls and the Vormund soldiers swarming the lobby upstairs, I was sure that Jans wouldn't hit the tower tonight.

  I shivered in my coat. I exhaled mist into the frigid air and my boots crunched snow underfoot. I liked these boots; they had soft interior lining and never slipped on the ice. I hoped that I wouldn't have to transform and fight an Angel. If I did, then I prayed to God I'd remember to kick off my boots first.

  Someone groaned in pain beside me. A heap of rags shuffled from next to the wall, and a woman with gray, ragged hair wrapped in a burlap shawl looked up. I met her eyes and expected her to hold her hands out. It made me feel awful to see the peasants' hands, calloused and gnarled and purple from frostburn, when mine were safe underneath a pair of wool gloves. But she didn't even say a word. She just hacked and coughed, turning away from me and toward the wall. She must have had the flensu.

  I backed away. Well, it's nice of her to cough away from me. I pulled off my gloves and reached into my pockets for spare change. Just a couple of coppers came up, and one silver penny, which I needed to get into the Bard Song. I didn't want to walk all the way back to the sagekeep to get more money. I looked at my hands, pink and warm and soft. I should give her my gloves. Before I could stop myself, I tossed the gloves over at her. They landed next to her feet. She picked them up and stared at them for a moment, as if in disbelief.

  "Survive the Midwinter," I said, using the traditional greeting for the Winter Sagas. I stumbled away, crunching through the snow. My hands quickly lost their warmth, so I shoved them into my coat pockets. That's what pockets were for, after all.

  As I walked, I wondered why I gave my gloves to a random stranger. Maybe I figured that if she had the decency to stay away and not make me sick, then I owed her something. Besides, I could always get another pair of gloves. Or I could keep warm by turning my hands into glowing flames.

  The Bard Song was alive with music when I arrived. The current troupe had started a spirited drinking song, and although I didn't drink, I still loved the tune. In all the time I'd spent at court and formal gatherings, I had never heard this kind of passion and fervor. Sagekeeps kept their music plain and somber, the sages' deep voices chanting praises to the Angels and philosophers. I sat by the counter, unbuttoning my coat in the warmth of the tavern.

  "Can you believe it?" Will said. Somehow, he'd managed to sneak up and take the seat beside mine.

  I arched an eyebrow. "That you're here in the Bard Song every night?"

  He shook his head. "They're letting me sing for Midwinter Apprentice Night. You know, the biggest apprentice gig all winter?"

  "He's really excited about it," Mira said from my other side. She sipped a tankard of some frothy drink. "He's been practicing all day."

  I forced a smile. I wasn't sure I deserved friends like this. They were so understanding, so nonjudgmental. Of course, we outcasts had to be patient with each other. We didn't have anybody else. "Are his lyrics getting any better?"

  Mira grinned. "Do you have to ask?"

  Will cleared his throat. "It takes experience to create powerful lyrics," he said, walking around to my other side and putting up his fists. "Daring fights with direwolves, heroic battles with demonic creatures in sages' robes—it's all going into my next song. No more rangir or antlers for me."

  Mira laughed, but I paled a little and glanced around. As usual, the noise of the singers and the patrons drowned out our voices. "Can we not talk about it? Just saying we've seen something like that could get us in major trouble with the sages."

  Will made a gesture over his lips. "Oh, my lips are sealed, Kaybree. With cement. And glue. And the stuff that glues cement together with other cement. Mira was there. When those old guys took us, we didn't say a word of truth. I even told him I didn't like you."

  I laughed. Will couldn't even take an interrogation seriously. "I'm flattered that you'd lie for me," I said. "But I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."

  Mira frowned. "What do you mean?"

  "You know. It's not every day you find out that your friend . . ."

  ". . . can turn into a glowing Angel thing and bash monsters into walls?" Will finished. He grinned. "Come on, Kaybree, that was awesome. You saved our lives." He cleared his throat. "Not that I'd like to meet either of those two again, but there's nothing wrong with being who you are. So what if you're a Witch? There's something kind of special about having a friend that can fly around and set things on fire."

  I blinked. "Really?"

  Mira took my hand. "Really. You don't have to hide things from us." She leaned closer. "And maybe we could help you."

  I scooted back. "I don't think you guys know what you're getting into."

  Will arched an eyebrow. "Hey, if you're going into battle against Brother Slash-and-Bash, then the least we can do is look out for you. And without your mom or that middle-aged guy helping you, we're the only ones who know who you are."

  "What middle-aged guy?"

  "That lordship from Vormund. The one who's always meeting up with you at night."

  I laughed. "Galen? He's barely older than we are."

  Will grimaced. "And you meet up with him at night? Aren't people going to start unpleasant rumors about you?"

  "Like what? They know he's betrothed."

  "Just saying. Anyway, with them gone, who's going to watch out for you?" He clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Besides, if it ever gets dangerous, we can run while you turn into Lightning Girl."

  Mira smiled. "With Will on your side, what do you have to worry about?"

  I couldn't hold back my smile. I had to be the luckiest girl in the world to have friends that didn't care I was a Witch, even with a mad cadre of sages scouring the city for me. If it wouldn't endanger them, then I could definitely use the help. "You're right," I said at last. "I don't want you two to get into the line of fire, though."

  Will spread his hands. "Sounds good to me. I'd rather sing about epic battles than actually fight them. Too much blood and bruises." He frowned and studied me in a way that I'd usually find unnerving. "Say, Kaybree, how're you holding up? You got pretty banged up last night. Smashing against windows and all that."

  I felt my arms and was astonished to find that the pain was gone. I stretched my muscles, but the soreness had left them. No one had commented on my face either, despite the cuts I knew were there. How had the pain vanished so quickly? "Maybe it wasn't as severe as I thought," I said. "I feel fine now." Will and Mira shared a dubious look, though, and all three of us knew this wasn't normal. Some magic was at work here, whether from me or from the relic whose power I'd drawn on. Whatever it was, I hoped it would keep working. The healers wouldn't question a broken toe or a scraped elbow, but claw marks down my back would do more than raise a few eyebrows.

  Will took a swig of Mira's drink. "So, what's the plan?" he asked.

  "What plan?"

  "What to do about Jans."

  I turned back to the bards in the middle of the room. Their drinking song had given way to a slow ballad about a wandering traveler searching for his home. "There's not much to plan for," I said, wishing I had more guidance in what I should do. "All we can do is watch and wait for his next move."

  At least this time, I would have help.