by Bree Moore
“None of my people need your false promises!” The chief’s voice rose to near a bellow. “We have been approached by members of your society before. We gave much to your early cause, and will not be duped again. Begone!”
“I want to know what he says,” A voice came through the crowd and the people parted for Quinn. Becca blinked. She hadn’t expected him to be so boldly in opposition to the leader of the people his parents had hailed from.
“Grandson, you speak of things you do not understand.” The chief set a hand on Quinn’s arm. “Trust me when I say this man has nothing for you.”
Becca’s heart skipped a beat. Grandfather? What else had happened while she was under the charmer’s spell? The chief was Quinn’s grandfather? That meant he and Harper…
Both Harper and Tyson—now fully clothed—made their way up front using the path Quinn had made through the crowd. They stood beside him.
Quinn rubbed his forehead right between his eyes, brow creasing, and then took something from his pocket and held it up. Dingier than the newcomer’s, but still gleaming, his coin had a matching ‘V’ on the surface. Becca remembered now. They had found it together in the rubble of Quinn’s childhood home. Next to him, Tyson dug around in his pocket.
“That must be what this is for,” Tyson said, holding it up next to Quinn’s. “Do you know what it means?”
“Not yet. I think it had something to do with my parents.” Quinn looked pointedly at the chief, who rolled his shoulders and cleared his throat.
“As I said, I’ll have nothing to do with this organization. You are grown, and I clearly have little influence over you, having known you for such a short time. But I urge caution.”
“I need to at least understand what this man has to say. My future…” He swallowed, then straightened. “My future does not rest here.”
The chief nodded, pain in his eyes. “Very well. You have an hour.”
Hal’s willowy neck bent to incline his head. “You are very gracious. A warm welcome from you, indeed.” His hand went over his heart. From anyone else, the words would have sounded false, but Becca sensed nothing but sincerity.
Becca looked to Avaan. He shook his head vigorously, but that only made her smile. “I want to hear what he says.”
“You’re running from your fate. It is never a good idea. The ancient stories support me in that, even the ones your society tells,” Avaan pointed out.
“Not running. Just diverting. Anyway, how do you know this isn’t part of my fate?” Becca argued. The flute slid against her chest, and a sound like a whisper went through her ears, beckoning. She froze, then shook her head and marched toward Hal. Quinn, Harper, and Tyson all stepped forward with her. Avaan trailed reluctantly behind.
“To my people,” the chief shouted. “I will forbid none of you from hearing this man, but you know our laws. This man honors none of them. Come, let us carry on as we have.” He turned and left without a single glance back. None of the other raven-shifters remained.
Hal smiled somewhat sadly. “I had hoped their hearts might have softened over the years. But I was warned.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together.
“There are some rocks over there,” Quinn gestured.
Hall grinned. “We can make ourselves comfortable, then. I have a short time to convince you.”
“Convince us of what?” Becca inquired. Her heart pounded in the silent tension that followed.
Hal chuckled. “Why, joining the rebellion, of course.”
⇺ ⇻
Chapter Seventeen
Harper
Rebellion. The word burrowed into Harper’s skin and spread a tingling sensation through her body. It was everything she had ever hoped for. A whisper on the wind she had promised herself she would chase once she found her parents. And now she might get both.
She looked at the brass coin in Quinn’s hand, then glanced up into his face. Her brother. The hole in her mind sat empty as ever. She could see the resemblance, of course, but then most people in this village could pass as a sibling, parent, grandparent, or other family member. Many of them probably were not-too-distantly related. Did she believe him? No. But he didn’t have a motive for lying that she could figure, so her distrust was waning. Besides, she could hear his name, now. It had clicked into place in her mind as if it belonged there.
“Did this really belong to our parents?” She pointed at the coin.
“I found it at the house we lived in together,” Quinn explained. “Seemed like it had been there a long time. And Chief Aguta—our grandfather—he said our parents were part of an organization like this.”
Hal cleared his throat. “I can’t promise I know your parents, but I’ve heard of other bird shifters within the Transcendental Redemption Society. Perhaps they remember your parents.”
“But why wouldn’t they have come to find me—us—if they lived?” Harper shuffled her wings against her back.
“Many of our members are underground,” Hal said. “They may surface only rarely, doing background work and biding their time until they can emerge, when our cause is successful.”
Harper couldn’t take her eyes off of the man’s face as he spoke. All she could see were the eyes tattooed on every available surface, cheeks, brow, above his lip, his chin. As his mouth moved, the eyes appeared to wink and blink.
Tyson twisted his coin between his fingers. “Why the ‘V’? It’s not part of the acronym.”
“Ah, yes, well it’s more about our motto. ‘Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, blood and revenge are hammering in my head.’ From the great Shakespeare, if you’re not familiar.”
“So, ‘V’ for vengeance,” Quinn affirmed. “Sounds bloody. Do you expect war?”
Hal shook his head. “We hope to avoid it. But all attempts at negotiating terms from a legal standpoint have failed.”
“How did you know we would be here? Assuming we’re the individuals you meant earlier.” Tyson gestured around the small circle sitting atop logs with the river rushing in the background.
“You are. And you, specifically, Tyson Miller. I was told much about you. We are interested in your unique abilities. Which I understand you just discovered, but I’m sure we could handle some of your training.”
“Training for what, exactly?” Harper crossed her arms. This man had the feel of a politician. She didn’t like politicians, rebellion or not.
“Fierceness is a valuable quality. And loyalty. We need more soldiers.”
Across the circle, the bearded man Harper didn’t know yet leaned in to whisper in Becca’s ear. She swatted him away, an irritated grimace on her thin face. She glanced at Quinn with a pained longing, but Quinn seemed to ignore her. Hadn’t they been together when Harper had last seen them?
They needed a chance to talk. She’d caught up on sleep, but not much else. Fortunately, the owl-women’s salves had sped her physical healing. Her skin felt tight when she moved, like it was a size too small, but the pain was minimal. The salves hadn’t done anything for her mind, which spun around as it tried to accommodate the individual stories that were together in this circle. Even Tyson felt like a stranger to her, rather than…rather than a friend.
She stole a glance at him. He had wiped away most of the mud from the riverbank, but a streak remained on his jawline below his ear. He smelled clean, fresh, and somehow salty—a bit like the ocean, though maybe that was the river water he’d swam in to get here.
“...so you see,” Hal continued a thought, and Harper realized she had missed the first part, “we have the means, now. We are organized. We’re communicating with other factions, bringing them in line with us, having a common vision, a common goal. I’d hoped by coming here I could convince Chief Aguta to reconsider his stance. The Eternal Source knows an entire flock of Raven’s own people would greatly strengthen our air force. But it was a long shot. And the real prize is sitting right here.” He gestured at Tyson, then at the rest of
them. “Willing and able minds and bodies. Motivated by the same things we are: a desire for justice for each and every paranormal out there. Demon, vampire, fae, and shifter alike. We are close to moving on this. Within months we’ll have our campaign ready.”
“And if the campaign fails?” Quinn asked.
Hal’s smile faded, and his back straightened. “Then we are prepared for war on multiple fronts. We hope it won’t come to that, but these things rarely happen peaceably.”
Insects buzzed in the silence.
Hal slapped his legs. “Well then, any questions? Objections?”
Tyson looked to Harper immediately, his brown eyes probing hers. She shifted under his gaze. Why was he looking at her?
“I know we haven’t had a chance to talk about any of this.” He spoke fast, almost urgently. “Everything changed so fast, and we’ve done what we set out to do. We found your brother, found your people. I understand if you want to stay here, you know.” Did he want her to stay? Would he rather she didn’t come with him? Harper’s wings shuffled against her back. She thumbed the amulet cord on her chest, rubbing back and forth along its length. She glanced at the silent group, all eyes on her and Tyson.
Tyson followed her stare, then nodded, as if he understood, and his warm hand closed around hers as he stood. He pulled her with him. “We need a moment. Excuse us.”
Harper followed him, still stunned by their connected hands. They could still see the group from where they stood now, but their words wouldn’t carry clearly over the sounds of the river. Tyson’s hand dropped from hers as soon as they stood apart. He faced her.
“Sorry. That put you on the spot.”
“I don’t know what to think.” Or how to feel. Why did her heart beat so heavily in her chest when he looked at her with concern in his eyes? Why did she notice the warmth coming off of him? Why did she care to know what he had gone through so damn much?
Tyson’s feet shifted, and he looked away, where the river bent and headed west. He bit his lip, then glanced back at her. “This probably isn’t the time or place to say this. But I can’t do this without you knowing. Something I realized during what happened while we were separated.” He picked up her hand again. Both hands. Harper surprised herself by not pulling away. Her eyes found his and held his gaze, heart pounding in her ears.
“I care about you, Harper,” he murmured. “I don’t know how to say this without freaking you out. I hope it doesn’t. But I care about you. I care what happens to you. And I don’t want to leave you here in this wilderness, but I will if being here makes you happy.”
Harper tore her gaze away from his and looked toward the village. “It’s nice to feel like I could belong.” She moistened her mouth, swallowing before she continued. “But I get the feeling that I’m not meant to have this yet. Like there’s something I still have to do. And maybe that’s joining this rebellion. Putting my actions where my mouth is and fighting for the right of all paranormals to exist and be free to be themselves. But… ” Her breath shuddered through her. She hoped he didn’t expect an answer to his other comment. She didn’t want to explore that part of herself yet, the part that felt too new and vulnerable to expose right now. He cared about her. And by the way he said it, she knew he didn’t mean as a therapist to his client, or even as a friend, but maybe something more.
She pulled her hands gently from his and let them fall to her sides.
“They’ll be disappointed,” Tyson said simply.
“Their law requires the erasure from the tribe of any who leave. It’s what happened to my parents. Technically, I might get a pass since I didn’t go through the initiation ceremony. I don’t know how it all works. But the chances of me returning are slim.”
Tyson grimaced. He looked toward the group, and Harper wondered what they were talking about. Had Quinn decided to go or stay? Did it matter?
“I don’t remember him,” Harper admitted.
“Who? Quinn?”
Harper nodded slowly. “He told me when I got here that he was my brother. I didn’t believe him, at first. There’s a hole.” She laughed nervously as she pointed to her head. “The orb took him from me. I realized it before, when you would talk about Becca and him, I couldn’t hear you say his name. My memories are gone. Whatever we had…” She swallowed. “It’s gone.”
“Harper…” Tyson trailed off. Even he didn’t seem to have a response for this one. “I didn’t realize. I mean, I know your connection must have been strong. You sought every opportunity to escape so you could find him. I’m sure a feeling like that can’t completely disappear from your heart and mind.”
Harper smiled. It faltered, tilting halfway down her face. “Do you trust this guy about the rebellion?”
“Hal? I do. It sounds strange, but… Part of me can see the paths before me. The choices I could make. And this one feels right.”
“Okay,” Harper said. The word locked into her chest, cementing into place the assurance that had been floating around in her body since she’d seen Tyson on the riverbank what seemed like an eternity ago. It felt right. But there was someone else who deserved to be part of her decision, whether she remembered him or not. Quinn. And her grandfather. “There’s still someone I need to talk to.”
Tyson nodded, as if he understood. Maybe he did. He was more intuitive about emotion than Harper gave him credit for. They walked back to the group again, and everyone looked at them with expectant faces. Tyson glanced at Harper, and their hands brushed together, sending a slight shiver through her wings.
Quinn’s hand dropped away from his mouth, and he looked to Harper. “We need to talk with our Grandfather.”
“I agree.” Harper turned to walk away and Quinn joined her, the edges of their wings touching. “Any idea what we should say?”
“You were always the better one with words.” Quinn nudged her with his elbow.
“I’m not sure that qualifies me to tell our long-lost grandfather that his only living grandchildren are following their parents’ footsteps.”
“Here we say, ‘wing beats.’” Chief Aguta stepped out from behind the nearest hut, hand drawing his fur robe closer around him. The feather dangling from his headband spun next to his face. “Come, let us speak.”
They followed him to a larger hut near the center of the village, aware of every eye watching them from the doorway-like openings they passed. Once inside, Chief Aguta invited them to sit on the colorful rugs that decorated the dirt floor, and he passed them each a cup.
“It is simply water,” the chief said.
“Honestly, the best water I’ve ever tasted,” Quinn asserted. Harper had to agree. She’d never had water this cold or fresh.
The chief nodded. “I had hoped that more than our water might impress you to stay. I assume from what I overheard that you’re choosing to leave?”
Harper looked to Quinn, who nodded. She cleared her throat. “We are.”
The chief’s dark eyes studied them. “You’ve hardly begun to know us and the life we lead. Harper, you’ve been here less than a day, and you spent most of it unconscious and unaware. How can you make such a decision? Here, you will be safe from the outside world and the pressures of Naturalization. We are outside of the government’s reach, preserved inside our village. And you have family.” A pallor passed over his face, and Harper’s heart constricted. Ahnah. She hadn’t even begun to know her grandmother, and she was at death’s door. Would she return to see her alive again?
“The antidote. Has it worked?” Harper asked.
“Not yet.” Chief Aguta set his jaw. “But we haven’t given up, and your grandmother is strong. She would see you, but she is asleep. She wants for you what I want; you could meet the other Tulukaruq your age and perhaps someday have a family of your own. Haven’t you desired these things? Is this not why you sought us out? For a place of refuge, a place of belonging?”
It was. It had been Harper’s desire her whole life. But in he
r mind’s eye, her parents had always been part of that life, and they weren’t here.
“With all due respect, and no offense to our extended family,” Quinn began, “We came looking for our parents. We’ve since learned that they are not here, and that they could still be alive somewhere. We can’t stop searching.”
“We won’t stop.” Harper’s wings flared at the statement. She drew them back in, somewhat embarrassed at the dramatic show, but the chief only smiled.
“How like your parents you both are. I recognize that you grew up outside of our laws, and in a culture far from our ways. It would be foolish to expect two passionate individuals like yourselves to ignore the enticements of that madman and his war.” He sipped from a cup at his side and leaned forward. “But is this truly what you want?”
“Is there any way we could come back?” Harper asked. “I don’t want to make such a permanent decision about staying here. But I don’t have time to stay right now.”
“Nor I,” Quinn admitted.
The chief’s frown lines deepened. “It is for the protection and continuation of our people that we require lifelong fealty. However, neither of you completed the initiation ceremony and received your names, and as such, you are not bound by commitment to our laws. I believe an exception can be made in your case.”
Relief flooded Harper. She sat up on her knees and leaned over, using her wings to balance herself, and hugged the chief. He patted her back, chuckling softly.
“We will do our best to return,” she promised.
“See that you do.” The chief nodded, and then his face became grave. “If you happen to find your parents, the same cannot apply to them, I’m afraid.”
