The Aviary

by Emily Shore

  “If you ever do grow wings, will you promise to fly me away from here?”

  Stopping, I stare down at Gull. All this time, I thought it was just pretend. In the beginning, it was. Pretend to behave. Pretend to be his Swan. Pretend to smile. Now, it’s more. I’ve become part of this glass birdhouse. Even if I leave here, I’ll take it with me. I’ll carry the Aviary like a scar on my heart forever. I’ll carry Luc like a brand.

  Gull is too scarred. Too broken, like a chipped cup once silver-plated porcelain. What I must look like to her, with the dreams I wear on my skin like sparkles. Am I sure enough to close my hand around hers? Am I strong enough to chase her nightmares away?

  I ease my arm around her waist, lean my head against hers, and whisper, “Yes, Gull. I’ll fly you away from here.”

  In the morning, I don’t wake to the smell of Gull. It’s late, and as usual, Sky is no longer here. If he watches me all night, he gets a few hours of sleep before joining me after lunch.

  Since discovering the poison, Luc prepares and brings me food himself. No more Birds at breakfast. Today is different. Today, he eats with me.

  Ignoring the bird ambience and how sprite-light swans sweep the air above our heads, I slip a thin white robe over my nightgown and join him at the table, briefly glancing out the window. Tossing my hair, which is even wilder in the morning, especially with traces of bloodstains I missed, I notice how different Luc looks today. Nothing left of the man from the previous night, but there’s still an air of satisfaction in his eyes. In the morning, they seem bluer. Robin’s eggs basking in sunlight.

  “Did you send her away?” I ask.

  “Who?”

  “Gull.” I reach for one of the white biscuits, spreading strawberry preserves in its fluffy bosom.

  Luc dips a spoon into a small bowl of grits and raises it to his mouth, pausing just to say, “Gull is enjoying a well-earned reprieve with a visit to town.”

  “Hmm…” I help myself to the chilled peach soup and ricotta-smothered eggs. “I’m surprised I don’t remember her getting out of bed.”

  “No dreams last night?” Luc asks. I shake my head, and he nods in confirmation. “Then, you slept well. And I can see you are famished from it.” He sips from a pewter coffee cup with an attachment, so it will refill itself.

  I don’t notice how quickly I’ve gobbled up the biscuit, but I reach for a cinnamon roll as big as a baby’s head. Nibbling first on flakes of icing, I finish it under a minute and start on the peach soup.

  “Are you going to eat that?” I motion to the last biscuit on the plate.

  Laughing, Luc shakes his head and offers it to me. “Though she be but little, she is fierce.”

  “I always thought Shakespeare was a little convenient,” I muse.

  He folds his hands, quirking a brow appraisingly. “Explain.”

  “Take Romeo and Juliet—two children die because of love, and their families join together in peace.” I lather strawberry preserves on the biscuit till it’s more red than white. “As if that could make people change so easily.”

  “Can a heart change?”

  I press my lips thin and tight. “Some, maybe. But in general, people don’t change.”

  “And your basis for comparison?”

  “Generations of this…” I motion a hand to the air, to the atmosphere of the Aviary. “They just get worse.”

  “I thought we were past all this.”

  I sample half the biscuit in one bite, speak through the pieces. “I’m not saying this place is the worst, Luc. I’m just saying worse.”

  “What do you believe is the worst? What is your deepest fear in this world?”

  I suppose this is our question swap today.

  You I almost say aloud, but I keep my thought to myself because Luc is a different sort of fear than the other. A unique fear altogether, not just because of what it means for me but because of what it means for Sky and me.

  Staring at my plate, I speak a simple answer. “The Temple.”

  Luc shakes his head. “There’s more to that answer.” He opens his palm, gesturing to me. “What is underneath that fear?”

  “Force.” I speak his name like a dagger.

  Luc nods. “Your father.” Just after I narrow my brows, he explains, “The lost Temple daughter has always been an urban legend in the Families circuit. But those with closer connections to the Syndicate know its truth. Aviary DNA tests are logged into the national system, scanned for biological matches. But you aren’t afraid of him. Your anger is too palpable.”

  “He’s a monster.”

  “You know I would never let you fall into his hands. But I’m still detecting the fear in your eyes. Tell me,” he urges me.

  Sinking my face into my hands, I rub my eyes before succumbing. “Losing myself completely to the Swan.”

  “And why can’t the two unite—you and the Swan?”

  I close my eyes. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

  Luc stands up from the table. He circles my chair before he kneels down, cups my knee, and reaches up to touch my cheek. “If there is anyone in this world who can become one with both, it is you. What is your favorite Shakespeare?”

  That is another question but a small one, so I respond, chin high. “Macbeth.”

  Luc smiles knowingly. “Look like the innocent flower…” he quotes, “…but be the serpent under it.”

  I lean forward. “Not bad, but I prefer ‘“Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires.’”

  Luc pats my knee. “I am fond of Hamlet. A rich, intelligent prince driven mad by a ghost.”

  I see the parallel, but I choose to expound, “No, not a ghost. But a demon. The demon of his guilt for a past death he could not control and the sin he could.”

  Luc bristles once, but then, his eyes soften, understanding. “I owe you an apology for the Isolation Room, and for your punishment above the client rooms. I’m sorry, Serenity.”

  For a minute, I am stunned into silence.

  “It was the safest option you had at the time,” I say finally. “I understand why you thought you had to do it.” There is a distinction between “thought” and “had to do it”.

  “Yet, there is no safe option left for you now. You’re not safe from anyone here. Not from my Birds or my Family or the Temple who wants to possess you. Nor are you safe from all the claimers at the auction.”

  His thumb rubs my cheek, but I pull away. “What are you talking about?” I demand. “What auction?”

  Luc rises to confront me. “The claims for you are vast. They are numberless. Middle class, politicians, dignitaries, foreign diplomats, even royalty—no rank is untouched. The Temple has staked a claim on you. My father has spoken with Director Force. He’s seen every one of your exhibits.”

  As soon as he speaks the name, I scramble out of my chair, and get my hands on it. But Luc forces it out of my hands, back to the glass floor. It scrapes and squeals like the shrill cry of a swallow. Both of us bend over it, heads almost brushing, eyes contesting with one another’s, but his height and muscles overpower mine.

  “You gave me your word!” I seethe, but he flings the chair away.

  “None of it matters.”

  “It matters to me! What now?” I struggle against him. “Are you too gutless to so much as try?”

  I try to escape, but Luc holds me fast. He pens me in with his arms around my waist. Sky would be smart. He would pin me to the floor, stop my whole body even if it meant pinning me under his. Luc has much to learn; my legs and my head are unencumbered.

  I use them both, thrusting my head into his nose. He doubles over from the pain.

  “I should’ve known everything was a lie,” I say. “I should’ve known you’d break your word.”

  Why had I believed him? Because of my stupid heart. Fickle, formidable foe.

  Luc wipes at the blood dribbling from his nose before he marches toward me. From his tapered brows to the slits of his eyes, he is
a force to be reckoned with, and he’s going to show me. Show me that once again, he’s the master of this birdcage.

  With him like this, I am weaponless.

  When his mouth comes down on mine, Luc ignites the fuse inside me. He tempts my mouth to open but then pulls back to stare at me, leaving my stomach on a cliff’s edge.

  “Careful,” he warns. “I’ve shown tremendous patience with you. I’ve earned the right to keep secrets from you, and any plans I choose. I earned that right the day I slaughtered for you. Your life is not your own. Only your heart and your soul belong to you. I can help myself to one but never the other.”

  Like a ravenous beak, my nails ransack the skin of Luc’s cheek, down to his neck, savoring the blood there and the rewarding curse from his mouth. At the sight of my handiwork, I smile just before Luc palms his cheek and moves ever closer.

  I crouch, waiting. “I can do this all day, Luc,” I beckon in a sultry voice, smile curling my lips as I rock on the balls of my feet. “And you’re wrong. You can’t have one without the other.”

  I am more than my body. I am more than skin and nerves and hormones all strung together. I am heart and spirit, mind and soul, feelings and choices. I am not just a girl. I am a human being. And it is because of that that I am worth something.

  For one moment, he pauses, stops to let his gaze travel across the bare parts of my skin. He shakes his head, wry grin lifting his lips. “Where did they make you?”

  “Now, you’re asking the right questions.”

  We’re so preoccupied with one another that neither of us notices Dove stepping into the room with a fresh set of white dresses in her hands.

  “Excuse me.” She nods to him after stopping short when she sees us. “Am I’m interrupting something?”

  “Take the dresses to her bedroom,” Luc orders, and Dove obediently departs. He shakes his head at me. “What am I going to do about you?”

  “No one knows what to do about me.” Glaring, I drop my arms. “Not even you.”

  Even as I turn my back to him and retreat to join Dove, I know it’s a lie. All a lie, because there is one person in the world who knows what to do with me.

  26

  M y F a T e

  “What are you doing here?” Sky asks after trailing me to the waterfall, the liquid guardian that protects our voices.

  Dusk has already purged daylight and sunset. It gnaws on my heart in the wake of my failure—the auction will go forward. Luc won’t stop it. He won’t go against his father, his Guild Family. Soon, I will be the property of the Temple, and my father will have won.

  “I failed, Sky,” I confess.

  Sky was right all along. I can’t blame Luc for everything. What he roused within me, what the Aviary itself promoted…I let it all unravel me. Somewhere along the line, pretending became real. Instead, I held onto the Swan’s wings and let her carry me away.

  Sky doesn’t bother sitting down. “There are things I can’t tell you yet, but we’re almost there. I just need you to be patient a little longer.”

  “Almost where? We’re not anywhere! My plan backfired. And I just keep getting myself in deeper and deeper.”

  Sky flexes his fingers and huffs. “So, he didn’t keep his word?”

  “He lied, just like you said he would. It was all just manipulation. But you have to get me out of here. I trust you to do that.”

  Sky grins wider than ever.

  “I don’t know how much longer I can stand this. I’m falling apart.”

  He shakes his head. “No, Serenity, you’ve impressed me. How you talked back to Peacock, how you behaved at Finch’s funeral, and the whole Gull thing…”

  “Can you get her out, too? Like you did for Blackbird?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why?”

  He crosses his arms over his chest and cocks his head to the side. “Too risky right now. ‘Sides, I don’t think she’d go. Some girls are too…used to the cage. More afraid of what’s outside than inside.”

  I press my lips tighter than the skin of a berry, tears forming. “I hoped we could. Just. Try.”

  Forcing the tears back, I change the subject. “I’m surprised you didn’t get in trouble for not protecting me enough during the Peacock incident. For leaving me alone.”

  “You and Nightingale both agreed not to tell anyone. So, how do you think Luc found out?”

  So, it was Sky! Luc must’ve rewarded him for the knowledge.

  “How did you know about it?”

  Sky leans against the wall, dipping his hand into the falls, spraying my hair more. “I know everything. I know you inside and out. And I’ve always believed the inner you is more beautiful than anything outside.”

  If I try to answer, my voice will break. Sky is the only one to see the real Serenity. Whatever power I felt I had in the exhibits was all an illusion. They could never see the girl behind the Swan. All anyone could ever see was their own fantasy. A fantasy I chose to be.

  When Sky presses a finger to his head, it’s obvious he’s getting a message from his security ear implant.

  “Luc’s father just arrived in the Aviary.”

  “What’s he doing here?” I ask.

  “Private meeting. Things may be changing. I need to take you back now. We’ll have to finish this conversation later. Meet me at the lake after the Guild leader is gone.”

  Sky thinks I’m asleep in my bedroom, but the secret passage behind my mirror provides me with a prime opportunity to sneak out of my room unnoticed as it connects to the room next to mine. So I can eavesdrop on Luc and his father’s conversation. I have to know.

  Despite the fact I haven’t eaten since lunch, my appetite has thinned to nothing. So, I don’t envy the meal served during their discussion.

  “Very well, son,” I hear Luc’s father say, sipping his wine. He thumbs the rim of the glass. “She has resurrected the Aviary. It’s true. We have earned the Temple’s envy, but we do not wish to make them an enemy. I am more interested in them becoming an ally—an affiliate. With Force’s support, we could do so much more.”

  “She’s only been here a month, Father. Think of how much farther I could take her.”

  “To what end? Yes, I’m certain even a royal would pay a tremendous sum and probably offer prestigious aid, connections, or strategic secrets to bed her. But afterward, her worth will diminish. I’m more interested in the long haul. I have too much invested in this auction already. It will not only gain us international attention, it will also secure our partnership with the Temple. We’ll even be able to fund our own breeding line.”

  His words are throwing stars, sinking deeper into my chest with their hopelessness.

  “You’ll invite the world to see her, then.” Luc seems to consider the notion, his fingers clenched.

  The Guild leader eases his back to the side of the chair. “The world will fall to its knees. Once she reaches the Temple, her future will be in Force’s hands. Either way, I trust you will ensure her last exhibit is sensational. Force enjoys usurping lofty bidders.” He retrieves a cigar from his pocket, then slices off the end.

  Deep inside me, a thousand serpents squirm, restless and hungering, snapping their fangs. If he doesn’t stop talking soon…

  “What if your own son was a bidder?” Luc asks. “What then?”

  The Guild leader cocks his head in Luc’s direction. “Not to worry, son. I’ve already spoken to Force regarding a Penthouse visitation. You will bed your Swan first. Afterward, he will use her for his own designs.”

  “Designs?”

  “Why, the Face of the Temple, son. Imagine, one of our Birds—the Face of the Temple. Our legend will only grow when the world learns the Aviary brought the lost Temple daughter to life.”

  My skin is alive with lightning and venom, my emotion raw as the first day I arrived here. No good will come of this, but I can’t stop it. I don’t waste one more moment. Instead, I lunge from the drapes, my action stunning both men and causing Luc
to immediately rise.

  When I reach for his father, Luc stops me before I can attack. I manage to get a hold of his glass, though, and each shard singsongs to me when I break it.

  Luc’s hands secure my wrists, seizing me so he can prevent me from breaking anything more. Meanwhile, the Guild leader scrutinizes me with the cockeyed grin that twists his features. I want to grab a shard, tiptoe the jagged edges against his face before slicing that mouth open.

  “I apologize, Father,” Luc tells him as he drags me out of the dining room.

  “Do what you must. Remember, the Face of the Temple.” It’s the last thing I hear him say.

  Luc really drags me now because I kick at him, legs thrashing. He uses a shortcut that takes us into the main lobby, which is dark with nothing but empty glass displays.

  “So help me, Swan…” Luc wrestles me around and shoves me onto the grand staircase, so I fall back on the glass. “You will stop this childishness now!”

  I begin to laugh. I laugh so hard I bend over the staircase, hands fanned out to touch the cold glass. My hair doubles over my face. “Congratulations, Luc!” I applaud him. “Excellent performance. Bravo! You did it. You turned me into your Swan. And after the auction, your wish will come true. I’ll become the Face of the Temple and the warmth in your bed. How does it taste, knowing you defeated me? Knowing you manipulated me?”

  “You continue to misjudge me.” Luc says.

  “Oh, there’s no misjudging.” Indifferent, I sprawl my legs on the stairs and tilt my head. “Your spine isn’t so mighty as you’d like to dupe yourself into believing. I was stupid to believe you’d keep your word. Stupid to believe you had any trace of love in your murderous heart.”

  At my words, Luc strains like knots are pulling his neck tighter and tighter as I continue to address him, arching my head back in mad laughter. “I doubt you even mentioned my parents to him.”

  Luc doesn’t make one move toward me, but he speaks so low I have to lean in to hear him. “I saved you from the District. I slaughtered for you. I created you. And I’ve opened myself up to you time and time again. But you still do not give me the benefit of the doubt.”