by Nicole Adamz
“Ciara!” a rough voice shouted, “Ciara open up, pretty bird! You were closed earlier, so I saved you for last!”
I paused, watching the man bang insistently on a door. It held fast, not budging beneath his fist. Hope budded in my chest before withering. Even if it’s the Ciara I’m looking for she’s a pretty bird. How can she help me?
The man’s shouts filled the air, becoming more demanding. The door swung open, and a tall, slender woman stood in the frame. Her faded scarlet dress was a lurid splotch of color against the dullness of Larrikin. Long golden hair hung carelessly around her scantily clad body in straight, shimmering lines. Bright green eyes stared disdainfully at the man, and I realized with a start the woman was taller than me. An aura of authority clung to her and I hung back, watching.
“We’re closed,” she said firmly.
“Ah, come on! Don’t be that way. It’s not even morning yet,” the man said heavily.
“It’s close enough,” she said with finality, crossing her arms over her chest.
The man stared at her before cursing, “Sky blasted Anomaly!”
Green eyes calmly stared at him, and the drunkard hunched his shoulders, spitting at her feet before leaving. Surprised, I stared at the woman. Somehow, she had intimidated an Elysian man. When she began closing the door I ran toward the building, inserting my foot in the doorway.
I hissed when my foot wedged into the opening but didn’t remove it. The woman paused, her harsh green eyes meeting mine. Our gazes clashed determinedly as she pushed my foot from the door, but I slid my leg inside. Her body stilled as she looked beneath my hood. I knew dried blood stained my face and hands. She blinked, her eyes narrowing while she examined me.
My throat closed. I’d been recognized. There was no reason for her to help a wanted criminal, but this was the only place I could go under the circumstances. Maewyn might be inside, and she knew the truth.
“You,” she breathed.
Looking down the street, she ushered me inside. I kept my hood up and held onto my satchel, not trusting her. Leaving me in a tiny front room with a lopsided, scarred table the woman walked to the back. She knocked on a door and whispered to someone. Footsteps rushed down the hall.
“Ari?” a soft voice called.
I turned, stiffening when a slender pair of arms enveloped me.
“Thank the True One you’re safe,” a voice murmured gently.
Stepping back, I met Willow’s midnight eyes and sucked in a breath. She wore a simple gray dress splattered with blood, and her hair was in a simple, straggling braid. There wasn’t a sign of her illustrious Healer’s Rank on her aside from the ruby bracelet circling her wrist.
I shook my head, relieved. Retrieving the rumpled wanted poster out of my satchel, I placed it on the table. Willow wouldn’t believe I was a murderer. Would she?
Her body sagged in relief, “Good. You got my message. I don’t know how you found your way here but thank the True One you did.”
Confused, I stared at her. Willow sent me the warning? How does she know Gladys?
She pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes, “That’s all I could send before the Warders were dispatched. I don’t know what you did, but you crossed some very powerful people.”
Not people. Person. The Heir, I thought with mounting fear. I bit my lip, staring at my ruined hand. I’d never told Willow the truth about how I’d acquired it, and I’d supported Maewyn’s lies. And look where that got you, my mind whispered bitingly.
Willow followed my gaze, her lips thinning, “Yes, I thought it might have to do with that. We don’t have much time. You’re not safe here.”
Worry etched her features, and she tenderly wiped at the dried blood on my face. I hadn’t seen this side of Willow since I was a fledgling. I’d secretly yearned for her when Zora was beaten by father—but we were different people now. She healed people, and I…I had tried to kill one. I turned my face away in shame, glancing around the sparse room.
A threadbare couch sat on a shabby rug against the front window, and a small writing desk was near a leaning bookshelf. The lopsided table wore a small vase with a single wildflower. Nothing indicated this hovel was the property of a pretty bird except the woman standing in it.
Ciara’s dress drew the eye to her emaciated body, giving her a prevailing presence in the small room. Her bright green eyes studied me critically, never wavering or lowering. Like the redhead who hit me, I thought ruefully. Something about her seemed familiar, but everything about Larrikin was tied to the night my life was irrevocably changed. My hand twitched at the unwelcome memory.
I glanced between Ciara and Willow, waiting for one of them to speak. Willow’s eyes were distant before she drew her shoulders back and scrutinized me. The sincerity in her gaze made me ashamed of what she would find in my own, so I looked away. My face was plastered all over Summit as a wanted criminal. Liar, murderer, thief. I was all of those now.
Willow swallowed, hesitating, “Ciara is our—she’s actually,” shaking her head, Willow started again, “Ciara can help you get out of Summit safely, but we have to hurry.”
Ciara raised a brow, “That’s true enough…for now.”
Baffled and frustrated, I stared at them before walking to the makeshift desk. I grabbed the stub of a stylus, writing my question on the back of the wanted poster. I didn’t want to see my face on it again.
Is Maewyn here?
They shared a look before Willow responded, “She was here.”
The stylus barely touched the parchment again when a searing pain raced along my shoulders and wings. I inhaled sharply, and the stylus clattered to the floor. A sweeping bout of pain lanced through my wings, and my feathers shuddered beneath it. I dropped to my knees, panting. Arching, I made a garbled noise, and the Abeyance lit my skin. Yellow fissures of anguish shot through my limbs, and I writhed on the floor.
Willow dropped to her knees, “Ari! Hold my hand and don’t let go. I’m here.”
Her slender hand cupped mine and I squeezed hard. Each onslaught of anguish left my feathers standing on end. What’s happening to me? I pleaded. Willow turned toward Ciara, calmly giving instructions. A steaming bowl of water arrived, and Willow placed a warm cloth on my forehead.
“Focus on the warmth, Ari. Let the pain move through you and take deep breaths. In and out. Ready?”
I focused on Willow’s voice, the elegant strength in her hand, and anything else that would distract me from the torture singing through my body. Terrified my wings were being peeled from my shoulders; I closed my eyes and wheezed, curling into a ball. Willow gently petted my hair until the pain ebbed into a stiff ache, and I drifted into an exhausted stupor. Jerking awake at a clatter in the hallway, I watched Ciara place two bags by the doorframe.
“I’m wrapping both for her to take,” Ciara said quietly.
“They’ll be upset again. Two wasn’t the agreed sum,” Willow sighed.
Ciara shrugged, “It can’t be helped. The sun has broken the skyline. We’re late, and they won’t wait long. I’ve included a rudimentary map, but she needs to leave now.”
Willow’s eyes skirted over my wings, “Ari might not make it, Ciara. She’s Fallen. I’ve never seen it progress so quickly.”
“It’s not safe for her—or us—if she’s caught here,” Ciara said pointedly.
I stopped listening and sat up, shivering fearfully. Molted feathers scattered the floor in small, gray piles around me. I looked at Willow in horror, the residual ache in my wings nothing compared to the vice gripping my heart. What’s happening to me? My mind screamed.
Only a few dozen dull, white feathers remained on the thin, pink skin stretching across my wings. I sucked in a whimper, watching one turn gray and molt. Breathing hard, I grabbed a fistful of feathers, and patted them against my wing. Willing them to stick, I choked down a sob when I opened my hand and they floated uselessly to the floor.
“Ari, listen to me. It’s not what you think,” Willow
said evenly.
I panted frantically, trying to find a feather that wasn’t dead. My head pounded, thoughts whirling disjointedly in my mind. How am I Fallen? My fingers twisted in my hair. I’ll never fly again, and I’m going to die! My thoughts zeroed in on a single moment. This is my punishment for trying to kill someone, I thought hysterically. The True One cursed me!
Silent tears streamed down my face. Maybe it’s a better fate than being given to High Lord Talon, and having my wings broken for murder. At least…at least I’ll still have my wings when I’m ash. I wiped futilely at my face.
I’ve been cursed because of a man I’ve never met before. I stilled. Was Maewyn in pain because she was Fallen? She wasn’t in labor—she was dying. A dark corner of my mind stirred. Wouldn’t it be easier if she died? She’s the reason you’re in this mess. Horror swept through me at the thought. Willow stood and disappeared, returning with two tightly wrapped bundles of cloth. She sighed.
“There’s no help for it. They’ll find her here eventually. Ciara?” Willow said.
Ciara nodded and stepped forward. “I hope you forgive me for this,” she muttered. Squatting down, she held my chin and met my eyes. I stared into the bright green pools, caught in their depths, “Calm down, Ari. Ignore the pain and panic. You will listen to the instructions I give you and follow them until they’re complete. Do you understand?”
There was so much calm in Ciara’s eyes, so much gentle warmth in her touch. Serenity abruptly overwhelmed my mind, but unhappiness fluttered in a corner. Nodding obediently, I released the unhappiness and let my mind go blank. I would listen to Ciara and do what she said.
Ciara paused, scanning my face before removing her hand. She nodded at Willow and grasped my elbow, “Come.”
I rose, feeling strangely light. Lingering thoughts herded into a corner of my mind, insignificant in comparison to doing what I was told. Ciara and Willow donned dark cloaks, tucking a bundle into the satchels over their shoulders. Ciara picked up the bag she’d packed, and Willow grabbed my arm. We moved toward the back of the shack when shouts rang outside.
Willow looked at Ciara and nodded. Taking off her cloak, Ciara settled the extra baggage over my shoulders with my own satchel. Hurrying, she grabbed the wanted poster and some of my feathers, pushing them into my satchel. Brushing the remaining feathers under her threadbare rug, she pushed me toward the back of the hut. Willow followed.
Ciara touched my arm and said hastily, “Listen to Willow.”
Fuzzy, confused questions were swallowed by a sea of calm. Willow took the lead, and when we reached the minute, ramshackle kitchen in the back Ciara pushed a tiny, unlit stove out of the way. A hinged door hid beneath. Willow opened it, hopping into the dark depths below when banging echoed through the shack. Ciara ushered me into the hole, dropping her cloak on my head.
“Use this to hide your wings, and follow Willow,” she said before shutting the door.
The pot belly stove scraped the floor above us, and Willow latched onto my arm in the darkness, pulling me forward in the obscure, earthy tunnel. Despite the darkness, Willow’s pace didn’t slow. Follow Willow, punched through my mind. While we walked my mind grappled with the inexplicable calm enveloping me but made no progress.
Light greeted us at a sudden turn, and glowing orbs floated through the passage every few feet. The dim, yellow color emitted enough light to make it to the next globe. Multiple tunnels veered away from the path we took, lit with different colors. We came to another intersection and Willow veered left. I held tightly to the straps of the bags crossing my chest, letting Ciara’s cloak sit on my head until I could put it on. Uneasiness pierced my calm during our trek.
Once, Willow stopped and banged on a wooden slab overhead. The slab cracked open, and a sack was lowered down. The crisp scent of apples filled the air before the slab closed, and Willow gestured for us to continue. My skin tightened the further we walked, increasing until a popping sensation stung me. Icy flames flooded my throat, and I gasped harshly. The calm fog wrapping around my mind parted. What was that? I thought in panic.
Willow paused, waiting for my breathing to steady before propelling me forward. A set of packed dirt stairs sat at the end of our last turn, ascending from the tunnel. Willow walked up them, lifting woven branches from the hole above and peering outside before ushering me out. She moved the door back in place while I stared at the green forest around us. Stunned, I realized we were in the forest beyond the Ward Barrier.
I looked at the tunnel we’d used and shivered nervously, noticing the leafy door was among similar bushes. The ambiguous tunnel was lost in the vast forest. Willow pushed the bush door firmly before digging into her satchel, rifling for a folded piece of parchment. Taking the cloak laying across my head, Willow tied it around me in a sling, hiding my wings, and placed the bundle from her satchel inside. Stuffing Ciara’s bag with the sack of apples, Willow unfolded the parchment with shaking hands and pointed to an ‘x’ marked on a roughly drawn map.
“This is where we are now,” she said and moved her finger, “This is where you need to go. The people there can help you, but they’ll only wait a few more hours before leaving. They know there was a delay, but they can’t linger.”
Dark blue eyes bored into me, piercing my mind with their gravity, “Do you understand?”
I nodded. The bundles slung around me were soft and warm, and I shifted against their solid bulk. A vague resonance of calm slithered to the forefront of my mind. I stared at Willow, waiting for my next instructions.
“You can’t return to Summit, Ari. There’s no place for you here. Whatever you got mixed up in…it isn’t going to go away. There isn’t much time before the sleeping draught wears off. Follow the map, and you’ll be fine.”
Willow briefly embraced me before turning me around and giving me a light shove. Hesitating, I watched her open the bush door. Is this good-bye? She stopped when she noticed me, her eyes softening.
“Your last instruction is to go quickly,” she said softly.
Nodding, I walked towards the spot Willow had pointed at on the map. Branches and leaves rustled behind me and when they stopped, I knew Willow was gone. I was alone. The dawning sun attempted to pierce the forest gloom before the tentative peace on my mind wore off and other emotions preyed gloomily on me.
Fear, anxiety, guilt, horror, disbelief, and pain filtered through my heart. I can’t go back—ever. Stopping, I leaned against a tree, shaking. Taking a deep breath, I rolled my shoulders.
The bundles were heavier with each step. I looked at the map again, trying to determine where I was. A stray breeze harassed the exposed skin on my wings, a violent reminder of my fate. Why does it matter if I’m going to be ash? I thought hopelessly.
Despite my fatalistic thoughts, I stepped forward. The satchels were heavy, but soothingly soft and warm. Something skittered through the foliage, and I struggled forward toward another tree. What am I doing? Even if I’m arrested, I’ll be ash soon. Dizzy from fatigue and hunger, I paused and swayed.
Willow said those people could help me, and…I don’t want to die. Deciding to keep moving, I struggled with the sack of apples. I yanked one out, and my foot caught on a root. I fell sideways, hearing a distinct snap. The constant pain echoing through my wings since I started to molt flared brightly, and I screamed hoarsely at the grinding burn.
Bracing for the backlash of the Abeyance, I clenched my jaw. Torrents of pain spread from my wings, penetrating the numbness wrapping around me like a blanket. The amber runes remained dormant, and I stared at my hands numbly, breathing against the throbbing broken bone. I whimpered, and dazed hopelessness flooded me.
One of my wings is broken, I thought dully. I’ll never fly again. I’m Fallen, and I’ll be ash. Sobbing, I tightened my hold around the bundles I’d cushioned with my body. A surprised squeak issued from one, and a dazed hush filled the air before a tiny, disgruntled wail impaled it.
I lay there, vaguely annoyed at the indistin
ct crying for interrupting my misery. How could the True One let this happen to me? Everything was for nothing. I can’t help Zora now. Maewyn is ash, and I will be too. Agony dimmed my vision, and twisted shadows danced at the edges. Acceding to death, I disinterestedly noticed a tiny globe of light wind through the woods, chasing away the shades.
It lit a path in the forest shadows before bumping into my nose. I closed my eyes against the brightness, too exhausted to turn my face away. It hovered, swaying in a pool of light where I lay. I didn’t care. Nothing mattered. The tiny wail beside me faded into forlorn hiccups.
The sound cloyed at my heart, and I felt strangely protective. Tears leaked through my eyelids, and I sniveled, torn between succumbing to my fate and fighting it. Something thumped in front of me, and I cracked open an eye. A black boot covered the moss near my head.
Terror darted through me. They’ve found me! My mind screamed. Blinking, I watched the boot fade in and out of the gloom, breathing hard against the pain wracking my body. I couldn’t make it to the spot on the map, I thought desolately.
A finger tipped my chin up, and a murky face swam in the globe light. Squeezing my eyes shut, I swallowed. No, I can’t give in. Determined to spit on Heir Talon before he tortured me, I opened my eyes. Squinting, I stared into the dimness above and worked up a wad of saliva. When the face lowered itself again, I spit, pleased when it jerked back.
Cursing, the person angrily lowered their face close enough to breathe the same air. My heart stuttered, and the world dimmed dangerously. Annoyed silver eyes stared at me. I sagged with relief, but the movement sent a fresh burst of pain through my wing. Wincing, I moaned.
The silver eyed merchant turned his head, signaling someone. More boots crunched softly on foliage, and the straps of the bundles I carried were abruptly cut before being lifted away. The sudden lightness left me feeling cold and insubstantial, as though I no longer had a reason to be here. Someone grumbled about the two satchels while the merchant dug into the remaining one.
