by Cheree Alsop
I scooped her up in my arms.
“Jump like you did last time,” she said, her eyes alive with excitement and a hint of joyful terror.
I couldn’t hide the grin that spread across my face before I stepped off the roof.
Chapter Twenty-two
We plummeted toward the ground. A shriek escaped Skylar as though she couldn’t help herself, and then it changed to laughter when my wings caught the wind and lifted us high into the sky. Dark clouds edged in the colors of dawn cloaked the sky. I tipped my wings and sent us in a slow spiral, following the directions Skylar gave me. We flew through the heart of the small city to a long building with a domed roof. I landed and set Skylar gently on the ground.
“The best way to travel ever,” she proclaimed. She searched her pockets and pulled out a set of keys that jingled in the still morning air.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Trust me,” she called over her shoulder.
I grinned and hurried after her. The key turned; she held the door open. “After you,” she said with a flourish of her hand.
I stepped inside the dark building and waited while she locked the door behind her. She flipped on a light. We stood in a small lobby with a desk and a few chairs. Behind the desk were small alcoves that contained what looked like shoes with blades on the bottoms.
“What size of feet do you have?” At my confused look, Skylar waved a hand. “Never mind; I’ll just guess.”
She came back around the desk with two pairs of the bladed shoes in her hands. “Come on,” she said, leading the way.
I followed her through another door. My senses picked up a wide expanse beyond us. The room was chilly and completely dark. Skylar fumbled by the door for a moment.
“I know it’s here somewhere,” she muttered. “Ah-ha!”
Light flooded the room.
Beyond the four foot wide space that ringed the huge arena was a floor of what looked like sheer glass. “Ice?” I asked in surprise.
Skylar nodded. She sat on a long bench and took off her shoes. “I take it you’ve never seen an ice rink before?”
I shook my head. It didn’t make sense to me to have a huge building with nothing but a floor of ice inside. “Why do you have keys to this place?”
She threw me a smile that was becoming more permanent on her face when we were together. “I work here on day shifts as a manager.”
“I thought you worked at the Galdoni Center.”
She pulled on one of the white shoes and tied it as though she had done so a million times. “When Dad died, Mom couldn’t make ends meet. I quit school to help out with bills. Mom wasn’t happy about it, but it was either do that or lose our place.” She gestured toward the front of the building where we had entered. “I work here during the day, and pick up night shifts at the Center. Mom works ten hours at the grocery store, and can be home for William. Between the two of us, we’ve managed to make things comfortable again.”
She sounded happy about the arrangement as though it meant a lot to her that they had been able to make it work. She stood up with both bladed shoes on. “Plus, it comes with perks.”
She stepped onto the ice. She gave a strong push with one shoe and skated on the little blades that looked more dangerous than serviceable. Instead of cutting through the ice like I had imagined they would, she glided across it like a bird through the soft white clouds that sometimes dotted the evening sky. At the end of her glide, she kicked a leg around. The motion sent her into a spin. I counted five complete turns before she stopped short, facing me with a full grin.
“That was amazing!” I said, unable to conceal my shock. “It’s like you were flying.”
She laughed and I was happy to note that her hands remained at her sides. “I used to skate when I was little. I came here so much that when I asked for a job, Joe said I was already qualified to take up the manager spot they had been trying to fill.” She tipped her head to indicate the bladed shoes on the bench. “Put on your skates and try it.”
“I don’t think wearing knives on my feet is a great idea.”
She glided back to the short wall that surrounded the ice rink and leaned against it. “They’re not sharp. Here, let me help.”
She walked across the black rubber pad that protected the floor from her skates. I sat down and used my feet to remove my shoes. Skylar loosened the laces on one skate, then worked it onto my foot.
“Perfect size,” she said. She winked at me. “You’d guess I’d worked with skates before.”
I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “If you like it so much, why did you stop skating?”
She shrugged as she tied the laces. “Life took over. School, friends, dates.” She glanced up at me. “I think sometimes our dreams get a little faded when we’re faced with reality.”
“They shouldn’t, though.” At her look, I shrugged. “Dreams are supposed to make reality better, like symbols for hope, right?”
Her head tipped slightly to the side, my ice skate forgotten in her lap. “I thought Galdoni don’t believe in hope.”
I frowned, trying to phrase my thoughts in a way that made sense. “The Academy was no place for hope. I think. . . .” I studied my gauzed hands. “If I didn’t dream of something better, I wouldn’t be here.”
“What do you dream of?” Her voice was soft as if she was afraid of interrupting.
I felt the beginnings of a smile reach my face. “For you, I think.” Surprise showed on her face. I waved a hand to indicate the place. “For this, for a normal life.”
She ducked her head to put on my other skate. Her hair swooped forward to hide her expression. “To not be a Galdoni?” she guessed tentatively.
I thought about it for a moment. Even though it made sense to say yes, I eventually shook my head. “That’s all I am.”
She stood up and held out a hand. “That’s not all you are, Saro. You’re a Galdoni and so much more.”
My chest tightened at her words. I wanted to believe them. How could she think so much of me? I rose to my feet and wobbled on the blades. Skylar’s arm slipped under my elbow, helping me balance.
“Little steps,” she said.
We walked slowly to the ice. She stepped down first. I followed with one unsteady foot, then the other. I leaned forward as my feet immediately decided they were done with the venture and tried to slide out from under me. Skylar caught my elbow in her sure grip.
“Easy now,” she encouraged. “Just wait until you find your balance.”
I wavered between almost falling backward and leaning precariously forward so far I had to use my gauzed hands to keep my betraying feet from sliding out into the splits.
“Careful!” Skylar warned, leaning into me with her shoulder to help me stand again. When I was upright and had a firm grip on the wall, she laughed. “I thought it would be easier with wings,” she said. “Aren’t you used to balancing with them?”
Her words made perfect sense, yet testing them meant letting go of the wall that had become the single thing between me and a painful thwack on the icy hard floor.
Skylar skated backwards. She made it look so easy, her feet alternating between gliding across the ice and floating an inch above it. She spun in a slow circle, then kicked out again and jumped, bringing herself around in a fast pirouette. She landed with a sharp slice of one foot that sent the ice up in a small white cloud.
I clapped. “You are so graceful!” I said.
“Thank you,” she replied with a touch of red to her cheeks. Her eyebrows rose.
I realized I had drifted away from my precarious hold on the wall. I had two options, scramble haphazardly back to the perpendicular post that was my lifeline and crutch at the same time, or give her advice a try.
I let out a slow breath and raised my wings. Instead of throwing off my balance, I was able to stand straighter.
“Bend your knees,” Skylar suggested in a quiet voice as though worried speaking would send me to the floor.<
br />
I did as she said. My balance improved. I gave a slight push with one foot. I slid forward, my wings tipping in counterbalance. It was easier. I gave another push. The slight scritch of the blade across the ice made me smile. I had never been a tentative person. It was fly or fall. The thought made me laugh.
I shoved my wings back hard enough to propel me in a rush. It was easier to stay balanced with speed. I moved my feet like Skylar did and pushed my wings again.
“Saro!” Skylar called in surprise.
I bent my knees and moved my feet as she had, lifting each one just enough to clear the ice before putting it back down. My wings worked as if I flew. I leaned forward so that the majority of the force would go directly behind me. My feet moved in time with my wings. The scratching sound of my blades turned into a rhythmic whoosh. I sped around the ring. It felt like flying. No wonder Skylar liked it so much. The air rushed past my face and filled my wings. A laugh escaped me. Skylar danced in the middle on her skates, her own laughter mingling with mine.
I turned my wings enough to bring me close to her. With a quick turn, I swooped behind her and caught her around the waist. Her feet moved in time with mine. She bent low and I followed, pushing us both with my wings. We flew around the ice rink, our feet and the rush of the air past our faces the only sound in the huge room. Skylar’s feet moved faster; I followed with my wings, propelling us past the wall that was a mere blur to our right. We completed so many laps I lost track.
Eventually my wings began to grow heavy from the unaccustomed angle. I slowed, steering us toward the opening where we had put on our skates. Skylar stepped onto the rubber. She turned, her face aglow with the smile that lit her eyes in sparkles like the bits of ice carved from our blades.
“That was amazing,” she breathed, her cheeks and nose red from the cold. The affect made her light blue eyes stand out like gems. I had never seen anything so beautiful. I was motionless, captivated by the sight of her. I could barely breathe.
I realized she was staring at me. I dropped my gaze. “I’m glad you liked it,” I replied. My chest heaved as I caught my breath, both from the exertion and from being with her. I didn’t want the moment to end. She watched me for a minute with a little half-smile as though she guessed my thoughts. When she turned away, breaking the spell, I felt a piece of my heart linger as though it stayed in that happy place; it belonged to her and was mine no longer.
I followed her to the bench and she removed my skates. “I’ve never gone so fast,” she said. The smile danced on her mouth, refusing to leave.
I smiled in return, glad to have caused it. “No wonder you like ice skating.”
She laughed. “I’ve never skated like that.”
I watched the joy bounce in her eyes as if it could barely be contained. Her hair was mussed as though still caught in the wind of our wake. I reached down and brushed a strand from her cheek. She smiled at me. “Thank you.”
Suddenly aware of what I was doing, I dropped my hand. “Thank you for sharing ice skating with me.”
“Thank you for coming,” she replied.
I waited while she put our skates back behind the desk, then watched her open the door. Driving rain pounded down to meet us. I realized then how secluded we had been, away from the weather, the Galdoni Center, the busy city, and anything to remind us that life went on while we were lost in our shared moment.
Skylar checked her watch. “The buses don’t run this way for another hour.”
“I’ll fly you home,” I offered.
She gave me an incredulous look. “In this? We’ll probably get struck by lightning.”
As if in answer, a flash of lightning darted across the sky. The hair on the back of my neck rose. Thunder rumbled less than a second later.
“That was close,” Skylar breathed, her eyes wide. She looked up at me. “Mom’s going to be worried if I’m not home before she leaves for work.”
“Let’s make a run for it,” I offered.
“That’s crazy,” she said.
I shrugged. “Why not?”
She looked out at the rain. Lightning flashed again, but it was further away. The smile she threw back at me made her look like a little girl filled with excitement. “Okay!”
I followed her into the rain. She fumbled for her keys; a shiver shook her as a torrent of water from the roof landed on her shoulders. I lifted my wings, sheltering her from the water. She glanced up in surprise. Gratitude filled her eyes. Before I could move, she drew up onto her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek. I stared down at her, watching her find the key and insert it in the lock. She locked the door, then shoved the key back into her pocket.
“Ready for this?” she asked? She darted into the rain without giving me a chance to reply.
I could feel the touch of her kiss on my cheek as we ran together through the downpour. She slipped her arm through mine and I sheltered her the best I could with my wings. I didn’t care about the rain; I couldn’t feel it. I was only aware of her arm in mine and the ghost of her kiss on my cheek.
She led me to her house; I suspected that she may have taken us on a longer route than was necessary, and our jog slowed by the time we reached the townhouse. We lingered on the tiny porch watching the rain fall beyond the eves. It was already slowing. The downpour had eased to a sprinkle that hit the roof with a soft patter. No words were spoken; none were necessary. Another piece of my heart was Skylar’s. I would never own it again, and I was grateful.
Chapter Twenty-three
Skylar drew in a breath and opened the front door. “I’m home, Mom,” she called.
Mrs. Jamison appeared at the top of the stairs. “You’re soaked,” she exclaimed. “Didn’t you catch the bus?” Her gaze met mine and widened slightly. She collected herself visibly and walked down the stairs. “You two need to get dry. I’ll be leaving for work in a few minutes, and I probably shouldn’t leave alone.” She passed us and called back over her shoulder. “I’ll make you a quick breakfast.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Skylar replied. She motioned for me to follow her upstairs.
“What does she mean, ‘I probably shouldn’t leave alone’?” I asked.
A little laugh escaped Skylar’s lips. “She means that she doesn’t want you and I home here alone together.”
Curious, I pressed, “How would she keep that from happening?”
Skylar gave a mock serious expression. “You don’t want to know. Moms can be scary when they have to be.”
I laughed at her expression. “Alright; I won’t push it.”
She led the way to a bathroom and pulled towels from beneath the sink. Handing me one, she used the other to cover her hair. “Man, I am soaked! Excuse me a minute.” She walked down the hall to a room a few feet away and shut the door.
I toweled off my hair the best I could. I glanced in the mirror, then looked away. It showed everything I knew it would, dark brown hair that was curly and messy from the rain; brown eyes that couldn’t quite hide the torment of the soul beneath. My face held only a few scars, an s-shaped white trail down one cheek from a whip at the Academy when I was younger, a little gap at the end of my left eyebrow where the hair never grew back after a punch to the face split it wide open.
I avoided my reflection because it showed a seventeen-year-old boy. Inside I felt older, but not wiser. I felt like I had lived too many lifetimes. I had definitely seen too many pass away unlived. Watching death aged a person, just as participating in the passing stole a piece of their soul. I closed my eyes, wondering if I had anything left.
“Much better.”
I opened my eyes to see Skylar in a dry red tee-shirt and loose sweat pants. She had dried her hair enough that it stuck up in red-tipped spikes. Something of the thoughts she had broken me from must have shown on my face, because she asked, “Are you alright, Saro?”
“Fine,” I replied with what I hoped was a sincere smile.
She shook her head. A hint of worry colored her eyes. “I don’t belie
ve you.”
A shiver ran down my spine.
“You must be freezing. I’ll get you some of Dad’s clothes.” She left before I could protest.
I couldn’t deny that a dry shirt would help. My wet wings and soaked clothes made for an uncomfortable mess. I gingerly worked my elbows into the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. The Velcro that held the shirt closed beneath my wings opened and I was able to work it free. I cleared my head in time to see Skylar standing at the door again.
She had a hand to her mouth and her face was pale. I glanced down at my chest, and then looked away. The sight wasn’t pleasant; definitely not something a girl should have to see. I turned my back.
“Saro.” She said it as though the name hurt.
I wanted to punch the wall, to break the mirror that showed only what was on the surface, not the pain and torment carried by the tattered soul beneath. My hands clenched, bringing pain to the healing burns. “You shouldn’t have to see it.”
Another shiver ran down my spine when her fingers touched the feathers of my right wing. She set a hand on my arm, the pressure of her fingers willing me to turn back around. I couldn’t deny her anything, not even this.
I turned slowly, careful to keep my gaze on the floor. Her hand lifted away. I immediately missed her touch.
My heart stopped entirely when she set her hand in the middle of my chest. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t speak. I could only feel the heat that emanated from her soft palm on my scars.
“Saro,” she said again. This time there was pleading in her voice, as if me not looking at her hurt worse than what she had seen.
I closed my eyes for a second, then obeyed, opening them and turning my face toward hers. I was lost, completely and utterly swept into the depths of her bottomless blue eyes. They held me safe and secure, and I knew she would never betray me. She was a rock in my upside-down world. She was the bridge over the torrent, the wind that carried me above the madness.
I leaned down and covered her mouth with my own. Heat rushed through me as she returned the kiss. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me close. I cupped her chin, resting my other hand above the one she kept on my chest. I could feel my heartbeat through her fingers. Heat flared from her touch, filling my chest with fire.
