by Abra Ebner
“More?” I croaked. “How do you even know what I saw to begin with?” The others now stood beside Srixon, watching me with wide eyes. They seemed nervous about what I might say to embarrass them. Wes, in particular, was expressing noticeable distaste toward my behavior. His eyes were stern. I ignored him.
“We have our ways, my dear.” Srixon smiled.
“Prophets,” Jake muttered, though bitterly. Everyone looked at him for a moment, relieving the stress on me. His reaction seemed personal. I knew a lot about Jake, but not enough to know what he was getting at and where the bitterness came from.
Srixon’s attention turned back to me a moment later.
I regrouped. “What do you want from me?” I wasn’t about to treat him with respect, not when he’d let his daughter do what she had to my sister—not when he kept referring to me as my dear. If he had such great power and foresight with these prophets, then he should have been able to prevent the whole thing to begin with. I wasn’t so naïve.
“To be blunt, we want you to repeat the process. We need you to reconnect with Gregory Gordon’s thoughts.” He had his hands behind his back, looking smug.
I’d now had the time to form my own opinion. I didn’t like this man one bit. All that Max had said about him, all the positive points—I wasn’t seeing it. The negative points, however—those were obvious. “Don’t your prophets keep you informed? Why do you need me at all?” After all, that was why we were here to begin with. Jake had promised us that the prophets would know why this was happening to me.
“Not in this case, I’m afraid. My daughter knows enough about the prophets to know how to hide things from their sight. I think you can begin to understand how that can happen considering recent tragedies, my dear.”
My teeth ground together. It didn’t take much hinting to understand what he was referring to. I didn’t think it pertinent to mention when it was still so fresh. It was as though he were trying to perceive innocence.
“We need your help.” He tried to redeem himself.
I was slowly shaking my head in disgust. “You want me to take the drugs?” It was obvious that’s what he wanted, but I wanted to hear him say it.
Srixon’s face showed little sign of surprise. “Yes, I want you to ingest the blood again. I want to know what happens. I need to know what happens.”
“Why should I help you?” I demanded. I wanted reasons, a concise list—I wanted to know how badly he needed my help. I wanted groveling.
He laughed at my question. “This is hardly the time to try and get even. Your decision to help is not only hinged on helping me, but helping everyone in Winter Wood. If you were to refuse helping us, the innocent deaths that are sure to occur when the Black Angels attack will be on your head, not mine.” He blinked sharply. “It’s your decision.”
I hated his arrogance. But what I hated even more was that, though it was an evil thing to say, he was right. What choice did I have but to help this man who felt as much an enemy to me as the Black Angels and Avery? “Fine, but I want something from you when all this is over.”
His eyes narrowed, suspecting it to be a heavy request.
“I want you to retire as Crown. I think you know who really deserves that seat. I think you owe it to him,” I threatened.
“And you think he even wants it?” Srixon challenged in return.
I nodded. “Max wants it,” I promised blindly. “He’ll see that.”
Srixon drew in a long, laboring breath. “Fine.” He extended his hand to me. “There’s no greater a predecessor than him. I accept your request—pending Max’s desire to have it.” He half smiled, doubting Max ever would.
I took his hand and we shook once. Max would want this, especially when he gets Jane back.
Jake’s thoughts entered my head then. You really trust him with a promise like that? Their family has been in control of the Crown since the beginning of Winter Wood. I doubt he’s just going to give it up, and besides, I’m with him—I doubt Max is going to want it.
I glared at Jake. Max deserves the seat, especially after all his family has done for this place and magick in general. Max will take it.
Jake didn’t have another word to say about it.
Srixon had already turned and was walking up the steps toward the temple.
“Are we supposed to follow?” Wes whispered.
I stepped up to where they were, looking at him and Jake. Lacy tilted her feathered head from side to side. I didn’t like the way they were looking at me—they were judging me. I knew that without reading their minds.
Grumbling, I rolled my eyes and walked after Srixon, not another word said.
STELLA:
I was flying in large circles far above them. They stood on the steps of a large temple, speaking to a man who had come from within the temple itself. I wished I could get close enough to hear what they were saying, but the arrival of the second owl had me wary. I was trying my best to keep out of her sight as she sat on Wes’s arm. If I could get close enough, I could perhaps get a sense for who she was, but then again, that risked her getting a sense of who I was in return.
I circled and circled until at last the group began to move closer to the temple. I dared myself to lose altitude, waiting until they were sucked inside the confines of the temple before landing on a nearby evergreen. I watched as the temple doors shut. I was left outside with no way to get in unless I could somehow change into my human form.
I fanned my wings and dove from the tree to the steps, hopping up the remaining ones and making my way to the doors. With all my strength, I pressed my weight against the doors but they didn’t budge. I pecked at the crack with my beak but it was hardly long enough to make the large doors move. I turned around and scratched at the door with my talons, elated as they grabbed hold of the wood. My overall weight in this state was no more than a few pounds, though, and working to crack the door open proved a difficult task. Fanning my wings and flapping, I managed to leverage it a few inches, only to let it fall back when I stopped. I regrouped for a moment and tried this again. When the door was open, I quickly twisted and managed to wedge my body in the opening. The crushing weight of the door squeezed in on me. I let out a small cry before I managed to break my way in, unable to avoid clipping a few of my feathers.
Once inside, I could hear the distant clatter of fading footsteps. The sound was muffled by long draping fabric that hung from the ceiling like a series of walls. I was in awe of this place and the sheer size of it. This was the human world I did not know. This was a place my human self had never been. I bravely picked myself up and flew low after the patter of feet far ahead of me, only to find that when I got there the trail was dead. I was left staring at another daunting door. I looked at my clipped feathers, not willing to risk more.
Looking around I saw that to the right of the door was a large golden wall lined with swirls of warm metal and ornate designs. This held little interest to me now, but given more time it was something I would have enjoyed. What did matter was that this door was the only way they could have gone as the beautiful golden wall was otherwise a dead end. My attention quickly returned to the door. I tried to push against it with my beak but like before, it was useless. I looked around, searching for any life that could possibly witness what I was about to do. I felt alone. I was alone. Quickly, eyeing the handle of the door, I changed into my human form. Completely naked, I grasped the golden handle. I had expected it to give, but to my frustration, it wouldn’t. Hunched into myself as I curled to the ground, a chill fell over me and I was quick to change back into the owl. What could I do now?
MAX:
She lunged toward me. From nothing, ice formed in her hand to make a dagger. I had never seen Avery use magick in such a vindictive fashion, and it caught me off guard as I narrowly managed to spin away from her. She was far faster than I remembered her being. Her time spent with the skilled murderers of the Black Angels had taught her new tricks.
How could I stop her? Ho
w could I make her see that this wasn’t the Avery she wanted to be?
I kept backing away from her advances, refusing to engage. “You see, Avery? This isn’t you,” I tried to plead. I knew I could take her if I had to, but killing her wasn’t my goal.
Her jaw was tightly clenched, a look of pure hatred in her eyes. Her fiery emotions were mixed with a hunger for the light I held inside.
I had my hands in the air, looking defenseless. “This solves nothing. If you kill me, you’ll never have a chance of gaining your light back. You know that’s how this works.”
She shook her head, crouching backward and laughing. “I don’t care about the light, Max. Don’t you get it? All I ever cared about was you. I wanted you. I loved you.”
“But you didn’t,” I pressed. “It’s just an infatuation.”
Before I could finish my reply she lunged again. I had been prepared, but not enough. Her dagger sliced across the skin on my left arm, leaving a shallow cut. I was shocked that I’d let that happen—shocked at the worthy opponent she had become. I watched the cut a moment longer. Thick, slow-seeping blood oozed, fed by a heart that was, by most standards, dead. Quickly, however, the cut began to heal and the skin forgot the wound that was once there. I set my sights back on Avery.
“Yes, I did love you.” She was breathing hard, looking both satisfied and disappointed with what she had done.
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t be trying to kill me. I won’t wait for you in the Ever After, and you know that. If anything, you’re doing me a favor. If you kill me now, I’ll see Jane again.” I knew this would enrage her, but I needed her anger to climax so that we could begin to reconcile. I wasn’t afraid to risk death to achieve this goal. Death was where Jane was, though the sweeter outcome was living. Living meant I could stop the Black Angels and Avery, and then bring Jane back. I still believed that she deserved to live.
Avery had me backed against the wall, small crystals cutting through my shirt and making their way through the first layer of skin. None of it mattered. None of it did anything to me. Avery stood tall, grasping the icy dagger with both her hands. The tip dripped with water from the heat of the room. She stepped one way and I quickly stepped the other, but not fast enough as my shirt caught on the crystals behind my back. Her cold dagger plunged into my shoulder this time, wedging itself within the joint. I let out a cry of immediate pain. The blade snapped off as I abruptly tossed Avery to the side, watching as she tumbled like a rag to the ground. I hadn’t held back this time and I regretted it, but the pain was so deep that my reaction was without thought.
I leaned forward and let out another small cry of agony. The melting dagger slid out of my shoulder and my body began to heal itself almost immediately. I hadn’t felt pain like this in some time. Even when Greg and I fought there was always the idea that what hurt me hurt him just as bad. We were constantly holding back and wounds never got this deep. Grasping my arm, I felt the skin graft itself back together, blood seeping through my fingers. I gathered myself as the pain subsided and swallowed the cruel words I wanted to say. “You’re going to kill Greg if you keep this up. Then what will you have?” A desperate idea formed in my mind.
I watched as she struggled up off the ground. A few fresh scratches could be seen across her arms, blood freezing against her skin. She ignored them, staggering as she regained her composure. “Greg means nothing to me. I don’t care what happens to him.”
I continued to rub my healing shoulder. A few inches further to the right and she could have stabbed my heart—then I really would have been dead. My mind began turning thought over thought, feeding a fresh idea that was beginning to form. “You and Greg are meant to be together,” I blurted as confidently as I could. “You’re just too blind to see that.” It was a lie in my mind, but as the lie crossed my tongue I began to feel truth in it. What If Avery and Greg really were meant for each other? What if they had been so blinded by hate, that they couldn’t see it? In another life, perhaps, I would have been able to see it more clearly as I saw with Jane and me. It was an idea that just might work—it just might trick her long enough to see that life in the light was better, at least for now.
She ran her palm over her scratches. The frozen blood chipped away and fell to the ground, leaving nothing but pure, white skin. “That’s a joke. I can’t even laugh it’s so ridiculous.”
“But it’s true,” I went on feeding this idea, refusing to give it up. “Why is it you two are so drawn to hate, so drawn to see the end of our world? Why if not because of something you share?”
Avery’s hands remained empty. It seemed for now she was done trying to kill me. “Share in hate? Do you know how absurd you sound?” She was resistant. “It’s you that’s meant for me.” Her hands fell to her sides, fingers moving as though to summon another dagger.
I spoke quickly. “Perhaps. But I made you think about it, didn’t I?”
“No,” she denied, though loosely.
Her small show of weakness took me by surprise. She was beginning to consider it. “He’s my twin, Avery. What if you just picked the wrong one? What if you had found him before you found me? Would you have ever cared about me at all?” I had to believe that it was beginning to work. I had to try and convince her that this could be true.
Her hands clenched as her brows pressed together. She looked disheveled from the fight, but also from the proposition I was making.
I pressed on. “I will always be your friend, Avery. I will always be there for you as I was, but you know that we are not meant to be together. You knew before Jane ever became a part of our lives. Don’t you remember?”
She bit her lip and leaned against a nearby crystal, looking so tired.
“I never did the things you wanted me to, the things I should have done if I truly loved you. You deserve someone, whoever that may be, that will think one step ahead of you.” I rotated my shoulder as the joint cracked and repositioned. “But Greg is always there for you, isn’t he?”
She shut her eyes gently, as though trying to clarify her thoughts. She sat like that for some time, unmoving until I dared to take a step toward her.
Her eyes flew open. “Don’t,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Don’t you dare try to touch me.”
It was hard to know where her stance was on the subject. “Avery, you deserve so much more than me. I’m not good for you, not in any way. We’re not different in the way the Sun and the Moon pixies are, we’re different in a way that can never work in love, only in friendship—especially now. Think about all the bitterness, all the hate our relationship has caused. Love isn’t supposed to be like that.”
“Stop,” she hissed again. “I don’t need your reasons.”
I felt sorry that I’d never talked to her about our breakup. I had left her without explanation. I really was the man she saw me to be—a deserter, a jerk, a typical man. I deserved this. Feeling guilty, I tried a new tactic. “Why do you think you love me?”
She raised her head, her inky eyes meeting mine. Her lips were parted, her face looking confused but also lost. She closed her lips and brought her hands into her lap, her brow looking frustrated. “Because I do.”
Again I was surprised. “That’s not a reason, Avery. Why do you love me?”
It was a valid question, a question any lover should ask and receive a reasonable answer to.
Her eyes searched mine, struggling to find a reason. “Because of all you do for me?”
I shook my head, feeling sorry for her. “But I don’t do anything for you. I love someone else, and you know that. How can you sacrifice yourself in this way? How can you stand to feel such pain? Avery, aren’t you ready to move on?”
I saw a shift coming, her facial expressions reaching a climax that ended in her taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. “What am I supposed to do, Max? How can I put my life back together? My father hates me. My friends will never take me back. This is the only life I have to live. Hating you is all I have.”
/> When she looked at me again, it was as though I was looking at different person—a person I used to know, long ago. “Your father doesn’t hate you. He saw your death through the eyes of the prophets and lied to all of us in order to save you. He still loves you, just as much as he always has. A father’s love can never die.”
Avery’s eyes softened, tears forming. “He saved me?”
These were facts I’d hoped she’d known, but apparently she didn’t. She had no idea that the prophecy had been much different—that Jane was supposed to have killed her, not the other way around.
“Of course. And he apologized to me for what he did to us. He takes blame for all of it. Even he knew we weren’t right for each other—he just didn’t want to see you lonely any longer. I agreed to be with you because at the time, you were the best prospect I had. You were always the most beautiful and amazing being in Winter Wood, and you could be again. People loved you. People miss you.” I was laying it on thick, expending my every reserve to bring her out of this darkness. “Summer, spring and fall—they miss you. Things aren’t the same without your presence.”
“I—I just don’t know if I can.” She spun upon the crystal, her back to me. “Please leave,” she murmured.
I felt my heart sink. “I can’t leave until I bring you home.” I stepped toward her, placing an open palm against her back.
She shrugged away from the touch, shivering slightly. “Leave,” she murmured again, this time louder.
My hand remained elevated in the space between us. I wanted to hug her. I wanted to show her that I cared—that we all did. Instead, I dropped my hand to my side and turned away. I began to leave, only to stop and briskly walk back to her. I swallowed and breathed deep, bravely leaning down to kiss Avery on the crown of her head. “Please come back,” I tried once more.
