by Liz Ellor
“My sight!” Katrina gasped, her throat rough and raw. Her lungs expanded and expanded, more and more air filling her chest.
“You can see me?” Dr. Harper asked.
“Of course I can! That’s the problem!” She tried to touch her face, but her wrists had been strapped down. They found me out! she thought, wildly tugging against the restraints. Something snapped in her left hand.
Bones slid past one another, scraping under her skin. Light twisted in front of her eyes. The hole in the back of her head seized her, dragging her in, and her wing seized up with pain, and she fell—
Not mine, said another voice, pushing her thoughts sideways. Her, it’s her, the woman from the snow—and then Katrina saw herself, picked out with telescopic vision from above.
Fuck! Katrina screamed as she pulled her broken hand free of the cuff, barely maintaining the sense to roll over, reach for the other strap as her bones screamed—
“Do I have to tranquilize you?” Dr. Harper pushed her back down. Katrina tried forcing herself upwards, but the doctor felt much heavier than she looked. Try as she might to move her free arm away, she couldn’t stop Dr. Harper from re-fastening and tightening the strap.
My arm. It was thin, bony, skeletonized. The thin paper sheet had fallen off her naked body, and she saw her breasts had deflated like two popped balloons. Each one of her ribs was visible, her skin pulled tight like a corpse’s. Dr. Harper’s not heavier. I’m weaker.
“Dr. Garyali!” Dr. Harper shouted. “Get in here! She’s awake and injured!”
“What did you do to me?” Katrina gasped.
“Restrained you before you could hurt yourself.” She said it without a hint of sarcasm, like a doctor explaining a procedure—hell, that’s what she was—but Katrina wanted to rage and scream.
“My head!” She twisted it sideways. “There is someone else—something else—inside my head!”
Dr. Harper paused, pursing her lips. “Well,” she finally said. “That was more or less what we expected.”
By the time Dr. Garyali made it to her side, the pain had faded from her hand. At first, she thought she’d just become numb to it, but Garyali gently prodded the limb and called for an x-ray. Dr. Harper unstrapped her while they brought in the machine. The break had healed completely in twenty minutes. Only a faint white line marked where the parts had come together.
“Amazing,” Dr. Harper whispered. “You can’t see the honeycombing, though.”
“Doesn’t show up on birds or wyverns either. We’ll need a bone scan for that.” He met Katrina’s eyes, a shudder running through his face.
I’m a freak. She’d managed to explore her face with her fingers. Her eyes had migrated closer together, flaring up and out in their sockets. Her cheekbones felt sharper; her nose, thin as a knife. Her choppy hair had grown several inches, even though Dr. Harper swore the procedure had only lasted five days. A flash of her reflection in the metal machine showed her irises had gone the same dull grey as a wyvern’s scale. She looked feral, dangerous. I like it.
“You must be very careful,” Dr. Garyali said. “Your bones are hollow, now. Like a bird’s. They will heal quickly, and the muscle sheaths around the bone will generally keep them in position if they break, but in some cases, you might need to mechanically straighten a break before it heals crookedly. Are you comfortable with this?”
“Yes,” she said, immediately, not knowing if she could do it or not. “Where’s Kyle?”
“Mr. Winters woke up several hours ago. He was examined and released back to his suite. We should run some post-transfer tests—”
“Later,” Dr. Harper declared. “Her bloodwork is clean. Her DNA is stable. Let’s get them up to the terrace. It’s time the wyverns learn what we did.”
Wyvern. Katrina pictured the creature she’s seen … Payaa.
In response, the weight in the back of her head shifted. Hello?
The thin hospital gown Dr. Harper had reluctantly given her wasn’t enough to face the cold in. They brought her a set of tight fitting leggings and a shirt, both made of the same thick black fabric. Then they formed ranks around her and marched her up towards the Eyrie. She might have found their caution funny, if whatever they’d done hadn’t left her as weak as a kitten.
She found Kyle sitting alone in his suite, his face turned towards the window. Dr. Harper stood, expectantly, at Katrina’s side, until Garyali whispered a suggestion in her ear, and she stepped back.
“Kyle?” Katrina asked, stepping forward.
He turned. The fading daylight illuminated his profile: his pug nose tilted forward, his curly hair grown into a thicket of thorns. “Katrina? Shit, girl, you look scary.” His tone sounded relaxed, but the tension of the muscles surrounding his mouth told her how nervous he was. His brown eyes had turned the same metallic grey as hers.
“You’ve lost weight,” she said. “Dr. Harper should go commercial. She could make a fortune.”
“I don’t care about money,” piped Dr. Harper from behind her.
Kyle stood. All jokes aside, she doubted anyone would pay for a treatment that killed muscle as well as fat, leaving her too weak to fight and wearing away her bones. She wondered if their features had really sharpened that much, or if it was a side-effect of all the fat being sucked from their faces.
“Let’s go.” Kyle pulled on his boots. “We’ve got a double date.”
They climbed the staircase to the top of the Eyrie and opened the door onto the terrace roof. Cold wind slapped her across the face as she stepped outside, nearly knocking her back into the scientists. Fuck, it’s freezing. But as she cautiously moved forward, she realized she could take it. The cloth she wore locked her body heat next to her skin.
“Call them!” Dr. Harper shouted. Katrina noticed she’d brought two security officers with her, each armed with large hunting rifles. What the hell does she imagine might go wrong?
“How do we call them?” Kyle muttered as they walked out across the roof. A wave of dizziness swept over her as her eyes pierced through the surrounding clouds to the tundra that ringed them.
“Do you feel this?” She tapped the back of her head.
“Yeah, but … what do we say?”
“Hello?” She shrugged and probed the cloud in the back of her head. Payaa? Hello?
Hello. A wave of thought floated through the link between them, laden with weight, heat, and curiosity. You’re Katrina. Right?
It speaks English, was all Katrina could think.
And Spanish, Chinese, and Russian. A few words of Afrikaans. Listen. Something slipped between them, and Katrina muttered a few words in a language she didn’t know. Payaa pulled back, shocked. Sorry!
Dr. Harper said something in the same language. Payaa responded in turn, moving Katrina’s mouth to form the unfamiliar phrases, acting quickly. She knew this was an awkward intrusion, and Katrina knew the words meant ‘I’m coming.’
Dr. Harper’s lips tightened as Payaa withdrew. Katrina shivered. That creature had just possessed her, with only a touch of the mind.
Through the link, Katrina felt Payaa stand, her weight shifting onto her feet, balancing carefully as she extended her tail as a counterweight to the mass of her upper body. She was lighter than she looked—about one-thirty kilo, Payaa thought. Still, Katrina couldn’t not feel the dangerous potential of that size.
Danger she could face. She could be a warrior, no matter what her brother and Indigo and her personal history told her. But Payaa was keeping the link between them wide open, permitting her thoughts and memories to slide forward, introducing herself.
Katrina glimpsed the whelps, again, the fifteen eggs Payaa had watched hatch and grow and worried over daily. She saw giant versions of the scientists, from Payaa’s childhood, and watched them shrink as Payaa grew. They made her fly until she dropped, electrocuted her for stopping, and threw her in a cage when she passed out. She saw Veick, Payaa’s mate—my husband, the wyvern corrected, we’re not animals—slink
suspiciously downward in his den, distrusting whatever the scientists had done to his wife’s brain. The clumsy thumb on her wing joint ran over an old-fashioned touch-screen, typing out a letter of protest regarding their treatment. She’d hear the scientists discussing it later as proof Dr. Harper had managed to create intelligent life forms, all her complaints ignored. Drakkaa, her sister, roared in blind pain as the scientists opened her leg without anesthetics, and Payaa drove back the surrounding security officers and earned three bullet scars in her chest.
A thousand points of vulnerability lay out in the open, and underneath them all ran a thick layer of hope. Payaa wanted them to be friends, even though her memories shone with pain and fear—weakness—and that left Katrina shaking.
“What was that?” Kyle asked her.
“She’s coming.” Her tone went up an octave as she finished the sentence.
“Lucky!” He squeezed his eyes shut, whispering “Tay? Excuse me. Can you hear me?” He wanted that friendship, too, and Katrina could perhaps excuse the impulse in him. Kyle had never known cruelty or unfairness in his life. Why would you share such shameful, horrible thoughts with a stranger?
The snap of leathery wings tugged at her breastbone. Payaa dove from the cave opening in the mountain peak. Air slid over the thin membranes as she rose, circling, her legs locked in position behind her. She invited Katrina to reach into her mind and feel what flying felt like for herself. Katrina refused.
You don’t need to fight this, Payaa said. Dr. Harper chose you to ride me, and she doesn’t take no for an answer.
She better get used to no, Katrina replied, digging her nails into her palms and pulling her thoughts backwards, refusing to let the wyvern see any more than what lay beyond the surface.
The roof shook as Payaa touched down. She folded her wings neatly against her side and stepped forward, toes pressed flat against the metal. Her six-inch-long talons curved like a dinosaur fossil’s in a museum. The wyverns eyes flickered all over her, yellow with brown veins surrounding round pupils, sizing her up, evaluating her. The snake-like diamond scales covering her whole body glimmered in the sun.
This isn’t a game, Katrina. My whole family lives here. We rely on the scientists for everything. Please cooperate with me. We can take this slowly, but we need to do what they say. They will punish us if we don’t.
“The saddles!” Dr. Harper ordered. Two security officers stepped forward, each carrying half of a tangled mess of nylon straps and carabineers. One tossed her a rock climbing harness.
“Put it on,” he grunted, and slapped Payaa on the neck. “Down!”
Katrina slid it on, chafing at the weight of authority. She’d never been one for taking orders from anyone she didn’t already respect, especially orders as fundamental as ‘wear this’. Worse, she felt like a hypocrite. Scorn bubbled up in her throat as Payaa knelt, letting them snap the harness together, running bands around her wings, cinching it tight around her neck, tightening the strap around the belly. Why the hell do you always need to be the tough one?
She was no better than Payaa—she should open her mind, leave her memories out to air, and be thoroughly ashamed of herself. But the thought of re-experiencing that shame sent her stomach churning. Best to let it lie. She had a future to think about, now, and that remembrance prompted her to keep her thoughts away from the wyvern. Some things in her head were for no one to see.
You don’t have to show me that much if you’re not comfortable with it, Payaa suggested, the tone of her thoughts a rich tremor that signaled no gender. Katrina couldn’t bring herself to view the sentiments as harmless when they came from such a large creature. Since we’re joined together, though, it would be a good idea to be friends. Where are you from? What do you do for a living?
“I’m from New York,” Katrina said out loud, grounding herself in the feel of spoken human words. Sounds echoed strangely in Payaa’s ears. Katrina had to bite her lip to keep her senses focused on her own body. “I’m a lawyer. What about you, huh? What do you do all day?” She knew it was a stupid question.
I’m from here, Payaa said. They’re not keen on letting experiments leave. The border is ringed with missile launchers, and we’ve all got radio chips that track our movements. And I suppose you could say I’m a stay-at-home mom. Images flashed between them—a dozen little wyverns, hard black eggs, Veick’s sharp yellow gaze—
Katrina felt her nipples tingle. Attracted to a wyvern. How much had this creature changed her? The easy warmth in Payaa’s thoughts unnerved her. The fucking June Cleaver of dragons.
What makes you so hostile? Payaa demanded, pain making her thoughts sharp.
“Katrina!” Dr. Harper shouted. “Mount up! We’ll all have frostbite by the time you get up in the air!”
“You want me to do that now?” Katrina shouted in response, her voice amplified by the large volume of air in her new lungs. “How the hell do you expect me to just climb straight up there and fly? I’ve got no training—”
“Open your mind to her! There’s not a person in the world who can teach you flying better than she can.”
Payaa slid forward and lowered her head. Katrina didn’t move. If Payaa could still keep her heart open, still try to trust strangers after a lifetime as these psychos’ test subject, what was Katrina’s excuse? One of them was weaker than the other, and Katrina didn’t want to open her mind and find out for sure. Besides, she had good reasons to keep her thoughts hidden. Important ones.
“Tayamlaa!” Kyle shouted, doubling the ‘a’s as a smaller, slimmer wyvern landed on the deck besides them and pressed her face against his.
Then Tayamlaa’s words echoed in Payaa’s head, as if contained in a large, round chamber. No emotions, memory, or senses came along with them. How are you, sister? It felt like normal conversation, albeit conversation no human could hear.
I’m fine, Payaa replied. Katrina knew it was a lie.
This is so … new, Tayamlaa said. And yet. Her head darted at Kyle, who laughed, dodged, and vaulted up onto Tayamlaa’s shoulders.
“Not without the safety harness!” Dr. Harper shouted, but Katrina could hear the pleasure in her voice.
This is so cool! Kyle’s unspoken words slid along the same channel Tayamlaa’s had. Katrina nearly jumped out of her own skin
If you would open your mind to me and let our thoughts mingle, Payaa told her, then I’d let you use the mind-link and communicate as we do.
“Think I’ll stick to texting,” Katrina muttered.
Tayamlaa dropped off the roof. Katrina’s breath caught—and then Tayamlaa rose up again, the grey-pink membranes of her wings spread wide. Kyle laughed on her back. No harness held him in, and yet not a drop of fear touched his face. Part of her envied him. But she wasn’t him. Priorities. Priorities. Playing nice with a wyvern is not my priority.
Why do you lash out me for trying to be nice to you? Payaa’s thoughts went to Veick. He could be the same way, but at least she knew why. The woman they’d given her for a pilot was a mystery to her. Katrina, we need to make this work, and it won’t if you’re determined to martyr yourself. Just give me something. You don’t need to open up completely for us to fly. You’re a dedicated athlete, you’ll pick it up. Memories, Katrina’s memories, flashed through Payaa’s mind: long roads, honking cars, the pounding of sneakers on asphalt.
Katrina clenched her teeth. If Payaa had gotten that, what else had she seen? Furiously, she imagined her brain was a vacuum, sucking in and holding everything that was hers.
“Ms. Harris! Mount up!” Dr. Harper shouted.
Time to put up or shut up. At least Payaa couldn’t say anything without Katrina’s mouth.
Katrina stepped forward and crumbled, burying her head between her knees. Her heart was already racing. She began hyperventilating, trying to force herself into unconsciousness. A woman she’d known in law school had been prone to panic attacks, and Katrina had always been a good actor. She heard the scientists shout and watched them run
over through Payaa’s eyes.
You’d rather do this than fly with me?
My thoughts are mine, Katrina thought as Garyali jammed a tranquilizer into her neck. You have no right to me.
She woke up in the hospital, strapped down once more. Vaguely, she wondered if the constraints were due to her sketchy psychological history or if the scientists now saw her altered body as their personal property. At least Payaa had room to move when they caged her. A bevy of unfamiliar nurses came and went, staring at her eyes, prodding her with needles. She twisted her right hand until her bare skin touched the fraying cloth strap. The navy fabric was old and cheap, dotted around the edges with blood. It would burn easily.
She tried as soon as the nurses gave her a minute’s solitude. Shawn had described it once like flexing a fifth limb, an extra set of muscles that simply came to you one day. She hadn’t felt it when she’d awoken, but there’d been so much new to see that it could have escaped her notice.
Payaa was up in the den with her whelps—Katrina knew that much, could glimpse the tiny creatures crawling over her hide. Deliberately, Katrina pulled her thoughts backwards, creating a fog around her thoughts to obscure her intentions. It wasn’t the kind of thing that would stand if the wyvern pushed against it, but, for now, a pair of whelps attacking her tail held her attention.
Burn, Katrina thought, willing the heat to slip from her skin to the cloth and ignite the old fabric. Even a seventh generation pyromancer could do that much. Nothing happened. Nothing moved inside of her, like Shawn had always described. The potential of magic, like always, remained stillborn within her.
Her flat hands hit the metal table so hard something broke inside them. Her heart rate monitor went crazy. A nurse poked her head in.
“Get me Dr. Harper!”
Dr. Garyali appeared five minutes later, to inform her the restraints were for her own good.
