by Cathy Clamp
Zarko sighed. “You have lovely voice. Like angel. We have no singers in our family, which is shame.” Dalvin started to walk toward the dock, the gravel crunching under his feet. “This is pretty place, Luna Lake. Like Drina valley back home. Quiet, no fighting. Listen: you can hear birds sing, hear footsteps. So nice.”
Rachel had leaned back, resting her weight on her hands and letting the sun hit her face. She turned golden in the sunlight, the same color as her feathers. He felt a pang inside, but he wasn’t sure what it was at first. Then it hit him. He missed her. He hadn’t realized how much until now. She didn’t look at him, just closed her eyes against the rising sun. “So why don’t you just move here? If the Kasuns want the land so bad, let them have it.”
Zarko shook his head. “Is not so simple. Bojan, he dreams whole life of growing raspberries. Even before we are bears. Is father’s job to help him, you see? If I have the power to, I must help him.”
“Like you helped Anica when she came home?”
Now the sigh was weighty and his scent was wet with worry, a bank of fog over the musty lake smells. “Ah, you know of this? Yes. I tell her to not speak of it, but she has no fear, that one. She wishes to fix the ills of the world. That is hard for a father to watch. I will help her too, if I can. But it is so big, what she wants.”
Rachel looked at him with a profound sadness in her eyes. “She wants to fix something that needs fixing. I understand. Sometimes people have to fight the good fight, even when it’s hard.” She touched Zarko’s shoulder. “You’re a good father.”
He reached over and patted her hand. “And you are good girl. Your father is proud, I am sure.”
Her lip started trembling, and Dalvin couldn’t help but add, “He is. Very proud.” Rachel looked up in shock, as though she wasn’t sure if he was kidding. He nodded, serious. “He is.”
Her answering smile was filled with joy, and heartbreak, shining through tears. “Good. That’s good.”
Zarko drew his feet back onto the dock and stood, picking up his old, worn leather boots, which were desperately in need of new soles—an interesting contrast from the boots Mustafa always wore, rare ostrich leather and heavily embroidered, like rodeo trophies. “I suppose it is time. I will go watch Anica train, give her what strength I can.” He lumbered off down the gravel, picking up speed and purpose as he walked toward the beginning of the course.
Rachel also stood. Her emotional chaos beat at him. “So.”
He nodded. “So. Get in.” He walked toward the SUV and she followed, her scent settling into curiosity. He held open the passenger door and she got in.
Once he was around and in the driver’s seat, she asked, “Where are we going? We can walk to the course from here.”
Starting the engine, he pointed back toward town. “We’re not going to train on the course. The course isn’t even complete. You need to learn to fly.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her skeptical look. “I know how to fly.”
He shook his head. “No, you don’t. Nobody ever taught you how to do precision flying. That changes today.”
He turned back onto the town road before taking a right at a narrow drive that barely let the SUV pass. The trees closed in around them like an embrace. He stopped in front of a mailbox where two people were waiting. Rachel’s eyes widened as they opened the back door and climbed into the vehicle. “Bitty? Claude? What are you doing?”
The old woman smiled. “Dalvin came to see us this morning, dear. He explained why he thinks you’ve been failing all the Ascension challenges, and I believe he’s right.”
“For a fledgling, he’s got some brains,” agreed the old bird that was the woman’s brother. “You need muscle memory, little owl. You simply haven’t flown enough to have the memory built up.”
“Muscle memory?” Rachel shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
Dalvin drove down an old wagon path into the deep woods, keeping their speed low so the transmission and oil pan didn’t bottom out. The ruts were deep, and it took constant attention to keep the tires on the edges of the wide holes. A deer darted out of the way, the tail hairs barely missing the left headlight. “You’ve been turning for ten years, Chelle. As a three-day owl, that means you’ve turned about three hundred and ninety times. That’s nothing compared to alphas, who can shift at will, multiple times a day if they want.”
“And you don’t have your human mind,” Claude added. “So how can you expect to know what feather to twitch when, other than to keep yourself from falling out of the sky? The problem is that we haven’t treated you like an owlet. The second you joined the parliament, we should have trained you as if you were a new child with her first wings. I apologize. That is supposed to be my job.”
Bitty smiled and patted Rachel’s shoulder over the seat. Her Cajun accent was thick and homespun. “It’s not your fault, dear. Van Monk and Lenny Gabriel should have given you over to us to train. But he … well, they had their demons. We’ll leave it there.”
Rachel’s voice took on a defensive edge. “So you’re telling me I suck. Thanks lots.”
Snorting, Dalvin used the same tough love he’d used on her in Detroit when they were children. “Get over the weepy crap, Chelle. How did you learn to sing? Drills. Remember drills in church choir? Scales, octave shifts, do re mi? All muscle memory. Your body has to know it without thinking.”
She turned in her seat, fixed each one of them with a wide-eyed stare and a scent of sudden fear. “Drills? That could take months! We only have a day.”
“That’s why we’re all here, Rachel,” Bitty said. “We’re going to share our power so you stay fully in your human mind all day long. Dalvin is a powerful alpha, but keeping you in your animal form with a human mind is taxing. You saw that the other day. He and Claude will fly with you to keep your mind, and I’ll hold your form.”
Rachel settled back in the seat and looked at Dalvin with a sort of awe. “Wow.”
He smiled but kept his eyes on the narrow trail. “I was told to make you win. But even if I hadn’t been instructed to, I would have done this. You felt such joy flying the last time. Watching you fly was like listening to you sing. It never occurred to me that you didn’t feel that way every time you flew.”
They reached their destination—a small flat spot where they could park right near the mountain edge. Dalvin and Claude got out of the car. “We’ll shift over here and leave you ladies to yourselves.”
Bitty raised one finger to delay them. “For today, you should be part of our parliament, Dalvin. It’ll be much easier to coach Rachel mentally. It can be hard to hear when the wind is gusting. I’ll disconnect you at the end of the day. You’re not part of a group now, are you?”
He shook his head. “Not officially. My family is my parliament, but we only connect when I’m home. Too dangerous when I’m on missions.” He tried to say it in such a way that they understood he couldn’t be part of their group.
Claude clapped him on the shoulder with a surprising amount of strength. “Bitty and I are both former Wolven, youngster. No fear we’ll spill your secrets. Hellfire, we probably already know! And Amber’s approved our plan for today.”
Oh. He remembered that Amber knew people here personally. “Then I suppose it’s okay.” He figured he was powerful enough to cut the tie if he had to; if he couldn’t, he’d get his family to do it later.
Bitty held out her hands. “Come touch me and we’ll do a simple binding. Nothing fancy, just a mental link.”
Rachel didn’t hesitate, seeming to take comfort in the woman’s touch. Dalvin touched Bitty’s hand and felt … old magic, ancient and strong. When Bitty’s eyes began to glow, he felt a wave of power sweep through him that was as light as air and yet was grounded deep in the earth. He had trouble breathing through the magic that pressed against his own, until it eased inside, like water sopping through cotton cloth.
The elderly owl winked one clouded blue eye. “Still a few tricks left in
these old bones.” Eyes shut and mouth closed, she asked, Can you hear me?
He nodded but wasn’t sure she saw the gesture. “I can hear you.”
With your minds, children. Can you hear me?
I’m here. Rachel’s mental voice sounded like her singing voice, like chimes that made his heart beat faster. I love this part.
I can hear you. Your voice sounds like bells. He looked at her, seeing her eyes shining bright.
“I’ve never heard myself,” she said. “Your voice is a lot deeper than usual, like notes on a bass electric guitar. It resonates even after you stop talking.”
“Your mental voice reflects your soul,” Bitty said. “It’s your truest self.” She removed her hands and clapped them together. “Chop, chop, people. Let’s get this training started.”
Even though Bitty had said he would just be linked mentally, Dalvin felt when Rachel shifted. For him, shifting was easy—a simple thought, and he was an owl. Rachel’s body didn’t want to change. Bitty had to push magic into her, grab the owl from deep inside Rachel and pull it to the surface. Bitty moved fast, which was good—it would have hurt Rachel a lot otherwise. Dalvin let some of his own magic flow into the link to speed the shift. It probably wasn’t necessary, as strong as the leader of their parliament was, but it made him feel better to help.
Bitty gave him a strange look then but didn’t say anything. She stayed in human form, on the ground, while the other three took off. As he flapped his wings, he felt like he was somehow still attached to the ground, like he was a kite on a long string. I’ve never felt a tie like this before, Bitty. Are you sure this is just a mental binding?
Something in her mental voice had deeper meaning than the words alone. It’s mental only with me. She clapped her hands again. Now show me some strong flying, everyone.
Dalvin and Claude flanked Rachel, one on each side.
Just do exactly what we do, Chelle.
Claude agreed. Let’s start easy, with some simple turns around trees.
The mental tie made group flying amazing, like flying with the Thunderbirds. Their wings were inches apart, but he knew exactly when Claude was going to shift by the And … now! that the older owl thought just before he swooped past one tree and around the next, like slaloming while skiing. The cold wind was perfect for this kind of flying. It was clean, with hardly any humidity and no hot spots that created odd air currents.
Rachel was trying to follow, but she was struggling; flying wasn’t instinctive for her. After several tumbles where she nearly hit a tree, Dalvin had an idea. Let’s treat this like singing. Do will mean a dip of your left wing. Re will be the right wing. Mi will be to lift your tail feathers. Fa is tuck your wings. Sol is to raise your head. La is lower your head. Ti is roll, ti-do is roll to the left, and ti-re is roll to the right. Let’s try it. Scoot back behind me so you can see.
Slowing her wing beats, she moved behind him and watched as he sang and flew. After two tries, Claude got into the spirit. This could work, youngster. Our little owl thinks in song.
Five times with each note was enough for her to get the choreography. Okay, ti-re. He sang the notes and shifted his wings, and she followed along as though she’d been flying her whole life. Okay, I’m going to land. You stay up here with Claude and try to follow him without me singing. You sing to him.
She dipped her head. Okay. I think I’m getting this.
Claude was an excellent flyer. Dalvin fluttered to a delicate landing on the hood of the SUV, being careful not to scratch the paint. Bitty was leaning against the vehicle. They watched Rachel and Claude go through the same course as before, but faster and with more precision. It was working.
He smiled, enjoying the sound of her voice singing in his head. Every wing beat felt like it was his arms moving. He could feel her heart race as she got faster and faster. He looked up at the sky and realized it was nearly noon.
“We should give her a break.”
Bitty looked at the sky and nodded. Come back in, you two. Let’s have some lunch.
Lunch? He hadn’t packed food.
Bitty smiled at him. Didn’t you see the basket I was carrying? Actually, he hadn’t.
Claude and Rachel landed on the ground beside the truck. Bitty sent out a wave of magic and changed Rachel back to her human form. Naked and smooth skinned and oh, my, she looked good to Dalvin. The old woman let out a chuckle to say she knew exactly what he was thinking, and with what part of his body. Luckily, Rachel didn’t seem to notice his reaction.
Rachel walked over to her clothes, and Claude—still an owl—hopped up on the SUV to stand next to Dalvin. “A-yup. If I were a hundred years younger—”
His sister swatted his wing with the back of a hand. “If you were a hundred years younger, Claude Kragan, you’d still be a hundred years too old for that child.” She patted Dalvin’s head, saying, “But this one … he’s just the right age.”
Dalvin shook his head. “We’re in two different places.”
She turned her head and blinked. Her words were innocent, but he could feel the weight of truth through the mental link. “Looks like you’re in the same place to me. But my eyes, they aren’t as good as they used to be. Maybe you’re not really standing here just a few feet away from her after all these long years. Maybe it’s not exactly where you want to be standing.”
Claude let out a few hoots of laughter and flew-hopped over to his own clothes. Bitty got into the back of the SUV. “I’ll get lunch ready. Why don’t you go tell Rachel what you thought of her flying this morning? A little encouragement goes a long way.”
Sneaky old bird. She tapped on the window and pointed a finger at him through the dark glass. Sneaky is another word for clever. One coin with two sides. Now go be clever, fledgling. Leap out of the nest.
He took a deep breath and shifted, adding an illusion of clothes, as he usually did when changing in public. He didn’t know why he did it, but he always did. Just a quirk. Then he put on his real clothes, and the images blended seamlessly with reality. Rachel was sitting on the ground, tying her shoelaces, when he walked over to her.
“That was some good flying. You’re really getting the hang of it,” he said.
She looked up, beaming with joy. Unable to help himself, he reached out to touch her hair. The curls were soft, not coarse, like feathers under his fingers. She leaned into his hand, closing her eyes.
I missed you. He hadn’t meant to transmit that through the mental link, but could tell she had heard him when she looked startled and her scent was almost afraid.
“We should eat.” He nodded and backed away so she could stand. On her feet, Rachel nearly ran to the SUV and the safety of those she considered family. He waited a moment, granting her privacy while she boosted herself into the open hatchback to sit beside Bitty.
He’d seen his parents look at each other that way when they were talking mentally, but he couldn’t hear anything through the pack link. It took a lot of power to separate the members of a parliament and talk to them individually. Bitty was much stronger than he’d thought.
He and Claude—now also human and fully dressed—reached the SUV at nearly the same time. Claude handed Dalvin a wrapped sandwich that turned out to be old-fashioned thick-cut ham on fresh-baked bread with white goat cheese and butter. His grandmother had made sandwiches just like them.
“How did you know to make these?”
“Memories are the strangest things,” Bitty said cryptically. “Sometimes you don’t even remember which are yours and which are someone else’s.”
What the heck did that mean? He eased into the mental link to see if he could find a clue in her mind and ran into a wall, stone with metal grates. She’d been expecting his intrusion. Clever and sneaky. She smiled brilliantly, revealing a missing eyetooth.
It was a good sandwich. Great, in fact. Best food he’d had since he arrived in Luna Lake. To wash it down, there was iced tea so sweet his jaw hurt—but delicious. Bitty clapped her hands again when
the meal was done. “Back to work, everyone. We have hours to go and many things to teach. Let’s get you back in the air, little owl.”
* * *
She was flying. Really flying, like the birds she’d spent hours watching, trying to figure out how they spun and danced on the air. To have her human mind while she was flapping her wings was something she never thought she’d experience. And to be flying next to Dalvin—
There were no words. She couldn’t put a coherent sentence together when he was around. When she’d landed for lunch, she’d thought, He can’t miss me. I’m a different person. He’s missing the old person, and I’m not her anymore.
Bitty had pooh-poohed that right away. Chère, there are some things inside us that make us who we are. We can never shed them. They are part of our soul. He misses that. I can feel it. He misses something you once had together, once were together.
She was attracted to him, all right, she thought. But he wasn’t the geeky, plump boy she had once known.
Just appearance, Rachel, Bitty said into her mind. That geeky, plump boy is down deep inside there somewhere …
When she’d seen him with Larissa, she’d felt a sharp pain, though she knew she had no right to feel that way. Still, she wasn’t sure she wanted anything more than his friendship.
Not true, Chère, came her Alpha’s voice. What possessed you in that meadow with him was beyond lust. I’ve felt lust from others before and can block it out. I couldn’t block out what you were feeling, because it was part of what a parliament is made from—trust, concern, a sense of belonging. You belong together. I remembered these sandwiches of his grandmother’s through you, Chère. You already have a link that I just tapped into.
Already have a link? She tried to reach out, to feel him like she could feel the other members of their group, but there was nothing there. Yet when he sang a note on the scale, she felt her body move like it was dancing to his music. They’d started to fly faster. She was flapping her wings almost constantly, and the commands were happening quicker. Left dip, then right, then stall with her feathers alone.
