by Lucy Swing
I don’t know what I had expected of my wings, but what I saw was indescribable. I saw their full length: about eight feet long. The feathers where an immaculate white, and they were soft to the touch, almost like silk.
For a brief moment, I wished they weren’t attached to me, so I could actually get the full view, but even now what I could see was marvelous. I stroked the feathers. They were the softest thing I had ever felt. I wanted them all around me, and just like that, the wings came forward and covered me as if giving me a hug. I looked over at Claire, who was standing in front of me.
“Whatever you think, they do,” she said.
I was in love with them. I lifted one up, then the other. The movements were involuntary and utterly natural. I wished my parents could have seen this. Or would they have freaked out? Knowing them, I could tell them I was the devil incarnate and they would have loved me just as much. This brought tears to my eyes, realizing I would never experience this with them, that from now on I was on my own and that . . . It was hard to swallow, comprehending that because of me, because of what I was, they were dead.
Suddenly, I wanted it all gone. I didn’t want the wings; I didn’t want to be an angel. I wanted my parents back. But what I wanted most of all was to find and destroy the one who had savagely taken everything away from me.
I flapped my wings slowly, feeling the anger grow in my core.
“Now you need to learn to control when they emerge and when they recede. You have to really get the hang of it. You never want to be in a position where you’re in danger and need to fly away and your wings won’t show. Just the same, you can’t be hanging out in public and have them all of a sudden come out, either. I’m sure if Avan hadn’t pulled you away tonight, things would have gotten entirely out of hand,” she said, sitting down on a gnarled oak root.
“Were you guys there?” I said. “Why didn’t you help me with her?”
“You didn’t need our help; otherwise, we would have interrupted,” Nate reassured me. I nodded, knowing they would help me through anything.
“Okay, so you’re telling me I have to go through that pain again?” I asked, cringing at the thought of it. I walked around the clearing, thinking to myself that I wanted the wings to hide, that I needed them to go back inside me. I felt triumphant when they obeyed.
“No, the first couple of times will hurt a bit, but I promise you . . .” She let her wings come out. Hers had a golden tint, as if thin filaments of gold surrounded each feather. They were magnificent. I wanted to touch them, but at the thought of anyone stroking my own wings, I felt an overpowering feeling to protect them from everyone else. I supposed she would feel the same way.
From the corner of my eye, I saw another set of wings spur out with the same golden tint. “It will become like breathing,” she said.
Here they were, my two best friends, with their wings flapping. It was a mystery to me how I was taking all this so peacefully.
I thought about how I would now be able to kick Amy’s butt if she dared piss me off again. The thought of her was a sure way to get my wings out. This time, the effort was less than before—and, happily, so was the pain. It looked as though Claire had been right: I would hopefully get to the point where I didn’t feel them at all.
I tried not to think about how they were coming in and out of my body. Was my skin ripping each time? With their massive size, how—and where, exactly—were they hiding?
The more I thought about it, the less I wanted to know. As long as it didn’t hurt anymore, it was fine with me. And so I did just that: made them come in and out for close to an hour, until I didn’t have to think about Amy or anyone else to make it happen. It became, as Claire had said, like breathing.
“Okay, I think we did enough work for the first time,” Nate said. “I have to say, Jade, you learn fast.” He shot me a big smile, and we started back toward the cemetery gate. I checked the time on my cell phone—it was 1:18 in the morning. I wasn’t thrilled that we had to be up in less than six hours.
Once we reached the car, Nate got behind the wheel. I was glad I wouldn’t have to drive anymore. I was exhausted. I sank back into the seat and tried to relax, but it was impossible; no matter how tired I was, my mind kept coming up with more and more questions.
“It’s pretty cool that you have an affinity for birds,” Claire said. “That scream you did seems to be your call for them. They hear that, and they’ll come and help you out.” I could hear the note of admiration in her voice.
I could do that? That did seem pretty cool.
“In my dream, you turned into a lion,” I said to Claire. “What’s up with that?”
Claire laughed—that seemed to be happening a lot. “Obviously, you need to start reading,” she said. We, both Nate and I, have what they call four faces. We can be any of them, but it isn’t just the face that changes. We are human, ox, lion, and eagle. We can morph into any of those to protect you.”
“That is wicked!” I said. “What else can I do?”
“You are a portal, which basically means you can transport yourself anywhere. Right now, you could manifest yourself at home in your bed, and you would disappear from here.”
She must have caught my grin, because she added, “I wouldn’t get too happy about it. It’s because of what you are that everyone and their enchanted dog are after you.”
16. LOST