The Aviary

by Emily Shore

  It seems ironic, considering my mother was never particularly good at hiding things. Of course, it was easier when I was a little girl, but as I’ve grown older, I’ve picked up on more things. I remember my mother’s beautiful face, a dim echo of my own—her silver hair is straighter, shorter, and embraces her cheekbones rather than smacks at them like my voracious curls. Melancholia etched in her gray eyes, with their fog of secrets. She doesn’t have the same fierceness as I do, but every once in a while, I catch warships passing through her irises. Like she’s still fighting some unknown demon. Now, I know it was for the Sanctuary.

  Unicorn loved the chaos: the tangle of white dresses, silver horns, and gold bridles they used to decorate her. The way her skin smelled like blood and cologne in the morning. She even loved how his whip left marks on her skin.

  But one day, everything changed.

  It wasn’t a crash. The Knight had to chip away at the Unicorn little by little. She bucked and kicked, but she finally stood still long enough for him to unlock the door in her mind. And that was when I broke the Unicorn, tamed her, and she became the ghost. The Knight and I eloped in secret, and we dreamed of escaping, but the Vampire came every night. I tried to imitate Unicorn, but my tears flowed like a river. And the Vampire seemed to love it even more.

  Then, I felt life move inside of me. I knew the Vampire wouldn’t bite me until after my baby was born. He never discovered the truth about us because we were very patient, and we waited for the exact right moment.

  I know the rest of the story. How my parents had to keep moving from place to place, running from the Syndicate Family who hunted them. How many lost girls had they rescued along the way? No wonder we were constantly moving; it would have been an asset to their work with the Sanctuary. What will happen to all those lost girls if the Sanctuary comes crashing down?

  I think of the Breakables and my first visit to the Glass District.

  After my mother’s explanation with the butterfly in the frame, my father thought it would be good to take me there so I could see firsthand. Some had nothing but flimsy limbs with loose skin. Others snapped their hips back and forth, summoning eyes with come hither fingers. Other faces oozed jealousy from my father’s protective stance next to me.

  When we came home, I didn’t want to hear about the Glass District or Breakables ever again. Instead, I clung onto my parents and their escape from the Temple. Every time they returned from one of their trips, I begged my mother to tell me the story over and over again. Sky never wanted to hear it because he knew things I didn’t, things my mother didn’t want to share. All these years, I’ve made excuses for him, said it was just a byproduct of his genetics, some of his Family blood trickling into his aloof body language and harsh words.

  For so long, I’ve just heard the pretty story about my mother’s past.

  Now, it’s time to read between the lines.

  * * *

  After hiding my mother’s journal again, I retreat to the fish tank, wishing I could become like those fish—with their forgetful minds and ever-moving mouths. Instead, I am a fish out of water, flopping around, struggling to breathe in this birdcage air.

  If Sky is right about Luc’s intentions not to sell me to a client, I know I can keep this up. In fact, I am in danger of keeping it up all too well. But if he isn’t planning on selling me, what are his intentions?

  “It was how I knew,” the voice behind me murmurs. I flinch, but don’t turn. By now, I’ve accustomed myself to the fact he can enter a room without making his presence known. “You never concealed your attraction to water.” He sidles his body to the other side of the tank to better observe me.

  “You suspected. You didn’t know,” I try to correct Luc, but his next words shred mine.

  “I never assume, Swan. Gamble, yes, but never assume.”

  To play this charade Sky wants, I will need to plunge deeper into the Aviary director’s world. Luc needs real pieces to believe my charade. Buy Sky time or…could I win Luc’s trust enough that he would give me answers?

  Swallowing back the knot of disgust in my throat from answering to Swan, I confess, “I learned to swim early. I grew up having access to water—mostly pools, but sometimes lakes. Once even the ocean.”

  Weaving the edge of my finger into a circle, I watch a wayside fish twinkle about from the motion before flitting behind some faux coral. Luc focuses on my every move, and I find I enjoy this new power. No matter how much I tell myself this is for Sky, my desire to share this with Luc surprises me.

  “When I was eight, I went skinny dipping in the waves at night. I saw a shark under the waves. They feed in shallow water, but I was so thrilled to swim in the ocean for the first time I didn’t care. I laughed. I actually laughed in the face of a shark. All these bubbles floated around my face. I was so sure it was going to attack, but it didn’t. It’s almost like it sensed I wasn’t a threat. Like it knew…”

  “…how pure your heart is,” Luc finishes for me, but I keep my eyes on the fish. “Do you enjoy the ocean?”

  I like swimming in lakes better, but I nod anyway.

  “Perhaps I will take you to the old lighthouse situated on the outskirts of the island. Or our state park dunes trail. I’m certain you’d find scaling the dune mountains challenging but worthwhile. I look forward to seeing you in the water again. You are never more my Swan than when you are underwater.”

  “I will be Swan again tonight…but I still don’t see the point.”

  “What do you mean?” My hand becomes a slave to his, my fingers pressed against the cages of his lips when he kisses them.

  I remember his heartbeat, the warmth of his chest, the surety in his arms. At the same time, nothing makes sense with him. Everything becomes warped like a carousel twirling me around and around. That is how Luc makes me feel. Dizzy with no sense of grounding, capable of shedding my old skin and becoming whoever he wants me to be.

  Finally, I raise my head, eyes on his, to tell him, “I don’t think anyone could desire me as much as you already do.”

  Almost midnight. My presentation is even grander. Dove decorates my skin with individual feathers all knit together to form a dress while she paints the rest of me in a milky white cream. In the center of each feather is an optic opal so when the exhibit spotlights bathe me, I will shine like sun on snow. She’s collected all my curls into a magnificent knot, one that will unravel in the water. To top it off, she gives me wings. They are heavier than I expected, and they curve around my small body. Once more, I begin to shake, doing my best to calm the tremors inside my hands.

  “Please don’t make me dive,” I plead with Luc as he leads me to my exhibit.

  He pauses before the door to observe me, suspicion rousing his features. I explain as best I can. “I don’t like falling.”

  “Try to think of it this way—the fall is only for a moment.” I realize that Luc, for the most part, has always been honest with me. “I wish there was more time so I could tell you—”

  “Tell me what?”

  He opens the door, motions to the swing. “Be brave, Swan.” His hands alight on mine as I ease my body onto the contraption.

  Clutching the rope, I try to hold fast to the frost of Luc’s skin. I whisper motivating words to myself. “Just…wait for the water.”

  I never do.

  His next words take me by surprise. “After the exhibit, don’t close your eyes.”

  Before I can determine what he means, the pulleys start to propel the swing upward. Luc releases my hand.

  More people this time.

  Breathe.

  The swing reaches its destination. Silence reigns. Everyone waits, holding their breath for me. I remember Sky’s words from earlier—Do your best. Once I earn Luc’s trust and gain popularity, it’ll allow Sky more opportunities to find my parents. And then, I can go home and forget I was ever here. Do your best.

  Instead of pumping my legs, I rise, maintain a firm grip on the ropes, and come to a standing p
osition atop the wooden slab under my feet. Tonight, I will fly for them.

  No one seems to be able to rip their eyes from me. If I close my eyes now, I will become a child again. Free and unbridled on the hotel playgrounds of my girlhood, swinging beneath the protection of night. With Sky beside me.

  Sky…I inhale.

  And I dive.

  My wings catch a rush of wind just before the lake folds me into a watery trance. Just as Dove predicted, my hair unravels as soon as my body punctures the surface. The white jewels from my hair spiral away as I dive deeper, deeper. Behind me, the wings are my only hindrance. They seek the surface, trying to best me, their burden becoming too great. Like a savage, I tear them from my back, bit by bit until feathers whiten the water around me. Liberated, I continue my plunge through the depths.

  I revel in the spell of the water. How it lulls my body and strangles all other sounds. When I pause to see the glass, I notice the drunken gazes of those beyond it for the first time. I can’t hear them talking, but if I close my eyes just once, everything will disappear. But I don’t. Down here, I am weightless and light.

  Staring at my audience, I set one hand to the glass and fan it against the pane. I observe the spectators’ hands copy my action. Thrilled by the attention, I place my other hand on the glass, watch them mimic me again as they yearn to touch.

  What made my mother Director Force’s favorite? She is a dancer. For years, she only danced for him…reared and bucked and kicked in elegant pirouettes. Her performance must have been stunning.

  I am becoming just like her.

  All my air is spent, so I leave them, close my eyes for the first time, and shimmy through the water to the surface. Luc waits for me as I gasp my first inhale of air. More exhausted and out of breath than before, I let him do most of the work of pulling me into the canoe. This time, he has a blanket for me.

  For one moment, he cups my cheek and smiles. “Wondrous, Swan,” he whispers above the applause. “I need you to be brave now. This is just the beginning.”

  Dove prepares me again in the customary simple dresses all the girls wear. She leaves my hair wet and dripping down my back because she says there is no time.

  “What’s happening?” I want to know.

  Her hands work fast, faster than I’ve ever seen them work before. She wrings out my hair as best she can, braids a few strands together. “They only come three times a year unless it’s a special occasion. You are that special occasion.”

  I try to stop Dove’s hand. “Who?”

  “Swan…” I spin around to see Luc waiting at the doorway. He peers at Dove. “Is she ready?”

  Dove drops her hands to her sides. “I guess she will have to be.”

  Luc extends a hand. “Come with me. They’re waiting for you.”

  Something in the way his brows plunge lower, forcing his eyes to don their hoods, something in the way his hand dominates mine…I ask no questions.

  All the Birds of the Aviary stand in specified hierarchy along the staircase. Luc places me at the top. Right next to him.

  The audience is gone. In the lobby are dozens of men dressed in black. Security. The symbol of a hand is embroidered into the right side of every uniform sleeve. They form a line on each side of the staircase while four figures issue through the center in detailed succession.

  The first is an older man. He is handsome in a way, rugged, with scrubby chestnut whiskers shadowing his strong jawline. Behind him is a much younger man, only a few years older than me, whose muscles can rival even Sky’s. His broad shoulders and muscle cording every trace of skin make him a beast of a man; his hands are so big, one could wrap around my head and crush it like an acorn. Behind him walk two girls, similar in age to me. They are identical. Both are horrifyingly beautiful, dressed in scarlet dresses that hug their lithe bodies. Silver hair braided like crowns frame their porcelain skin.

  Suddenly, I understand. This is the Guild hierarchy.

  The older man, the patriarch, reaches the top of the staircase and approaches Luc. Right away, I notice his eyes. I try not to let my astonishment show. Though everything else lacks resemblance, Luc’s eyes are identical to this man’s.

  The Aviary director bows his head to the older man, and the Guild patriarch cups Luc’s right shoulder and smiles.

  “You have done well, my son.”

  16

  G r a p H i c k e r s

  “Tonight’s performance was spectacular,” the Guild patriarch commends Luc in a deep but serene voice, something else Luc has inherited. “You’ve secured the envy of the Temple with this latest acquisition. I’m proud.”

  For once, Luc is silent. He nods, bowing his head once more.

  The patriarch—Luc’s father—turns to look at me. Where I feel like a child beneath Luc’s scrutiny, this man turns me to an infant. When he takes a few tendrils of my drenched hair, I hold my breath like I’m underwater again.

  He smiles at me. “She is quite a find,” he tells Luc. “You will preserve her until the grand event?”

  “Just as you’ve stipulated, Father.”

  Grand event?

  Luc’s father keeps his eyes on me, fingers pausing at my waist before straying to the feather tattoo. Everything about me freezes when he brushes the mark. He renders my whole body to ice. “Enchanting, child. I hope you appreciate how valuable you are. In fact, no museum in this entire region has held an international auction in the past fifty years.”

  At the word “auction,” I lash out. Feel my lightning split the ice on my skin from his father. Luc gets his arms around me, but not before my nails sink into the Guild leader’s arm.

  Shocked murmurs ripple through the Birds, and the twin girls gaze back and forth from each other to my spectacle. The brawny man steps forward.

  I buck against Luc, but he manages to derail me, forcing my knees to the staircase floor. He tethers my arms behind me, compressing the pressure point on my neck to keep me still. “Swan.” Luc’s voice hardens like iron before he addresses the Guild leader. “I apologize, Father. It won’t happen again.”

  The Guild leader eyes his arm once before shrugging it off. “No need, son. This one will become a thing of legend for the Aviary. Perhaps we will immortalize her with a diamond statue.” When he brushes his fingers across my cheek, I throw my damp curls to one side and struggle against Luc’s firm grip. “With word of our auction spreading fast, I’ll be providing you with heightened security beginning next week.”

  He turns his body away from me toward the younger man, for which I am thankful, but Luc does not release his grip.

  “Larke.” Luc’s father addresses the brawny man. “You and your men will remain here for now and learn under your brother’s tutelage. Perhaps he will finally break through that thick skull of yours.”

  Larke’s mouth compresses into a narrow line. Bowing to his father’s authority, he steps down in submission.

  Once again, the Guild patriarch turns to face me. Placing two fingers under my chin, he peers into my eyes. Did Luc learn that from him?

  “I look forward to your next exhibit, my dear girl.”

  Finally, they depart.

  Luc releases me to bid his Family farewell, but the sudden sound of a delicate shriek diverts me.

  At the bottom of the staircase, I see a giant hand locked around Finch’s neck. Her legs kick vainly in midair.

  “She should learn her place.” Luc’s brother snarls, putting her down and pointing to a scratch on his cheek that is just beginning to drip blood.

  “Finch is a hatchling,” Luc says, clearly angered by his brother’s behavior. “I bought her from a Glass Auction. The Glass Districts lack the sophistication of museums; she is still learning.”

  Only I know the truth: Finch has been mimicking me since that first dinner, when she stole food off my dinner plate. These past few days, she’s practiced swimming through air while shadowing my every move. I did this.

  “She’s old enough to know better,” Lark
e counters. He draws Finch’s face closer to his.

  Luc’s father steps forward, observing Finch. I bite down on my lip. “Lash her once,” he says. “And she shall know her place from now on.”

  When Luc’s father speaks, everyone obeys.

  Larke prepares to do the deed, awaiting Luc’s consent.

  Luc hesitates, but I know he will save face. His nod confirms it. Luc stands in front of her, then raises a single finger. “Finch, step forward.”

  Squeamish yet brave, the girl does as she’s told, but I know better. I recognize throes of panic in her eyes. It reminds me of my own when I woke in the Glass District, when I entered the Aviary, when I had my first exhibit.

  It feels like a swan is ramming my stomach, pecking at the lining as it begs me to do something. There is no way I can reach her in time to stop them. Only one thing will deter them. Only one thing will bring everything crashing down.

  Before Larke can lash Finch, I do what is by far the most foolish thing I’ve done since coming here. I throw my body down the glass staircase, reliving the familiar pain I encountered that first night I snuck out of my room when some nameless, faceless Bird pushed me. But even if the pain is familiar, it’s not as sharp or intense because it’s mine, my choice, and it brings the response I desire.

  Luc rushes worriedly to my crumpled body at the base of the stairs. Finch scurries away, and I watch through dazed eyes as some of the other Birds hide her behind their elaborate dresses.

  I smile as Luc calls for a medic. I’ve succeeded.

  The pain only lasts an instant longer, before I pass into unconsciousness.

  “I know why you did it,” Luc growls when I stir.

  The infirmary reminds me of the hospital with its white sheets, sterile white walls, and white medical gown.

  One touch from Luc’s hand crumbles my resolve. “Do not move,” he orders, and I steady my head against the pillow. “You have more bruises than skin, but the implant is healing them.”