Queens of Wings & Storms

by Angela Sanders et al.

  “That can’t be all you need.”

  She turned an angry face to him and clenched her fists. “Of course not. Didn’t I just say that? But what am I supposed to do? I can’t stop from turning into a tree at night.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder before he even grasped what he was doing.

  There was a moment where it appeared she was going to collapse into his arms. He couldn’t fathom how much he coveted touching her, until his hand grazed hers and he was close enough to feel her body heat.

  Then she straightened, and even though tears lurked, she shook herself and then sighed. “Forget it. There’s nothing I can do about it. Listen, we have to go. I have to be home at a certain time. Mom’s orders.”

  “Of course you do,” Ranger muttered but fell into step next to her again as they continued their walk toward home.

  The trees in the ground and the ones further out, sighed and whispered. He couldn’t tell which might be dryads and which were swaying in the wind.

  Her mother wasn’t home when Taimi arrived, and she breathed out a sigh of relief. She might get away with having Ranger walk her home. Her skin tingled where he had touched her. She grabbed a snack and laid her books out on the kitchen table to begin cramming before nightfall. So many projects and so little time to do them.

  She was finishing up her math homework when her mother stomped in with department store bags in hand. Taimi waved hello and went back to her assignments.

  “Start supper, will you?” Taimi’s mother seemed distracted and her heart stopped. She paused her work on the computer and nodded.

  “Sure.” She rose and went to the kitchen. “Chicken and rice okay?” Taimi asked as she pulled the ingredients out. Her mother inclined her head but said nothing. Taimi’s gut tightened. Plenty of people had observed her walk home with Ranger. She debated whether she should say anything and resolved against it. At this point, better to keep it to herself than risk opening up the conversation. She turned her gaze away and stirred the cream of mushroom soup into the dish, and then put it in the oven to bake.

  Then she returned to her homework. Her mother dipped into the kitchen and came out with a glass of wine. Taimi glanced up from the table and noticed the alcohol. It was early for that.

  “How was your day?”

  Taimi jumped, her heart hammering. Her mother had reached over and tapped Taimi’s writing hand, startling her.

  She managed to shrug, sure that her nervous mannerisms were giving her away.

  “Good. The same. Desi invited me to go with them to shop but I told her no, of course.” Maybe telling her mom part of her day would assuage her.

  Her mother took a long drink of the wine and set the glass down. “Did you think about going?

  Taimi caught her breath, unable to control her reaction. It was a trick. It had to be. Yet her mother could tell if she didn’t answer honestly.

  She was silent a beat too long because her mother rapped the table. “Answer the question, Missy. That girl is a tramp just like the rest of her family. I’m saving you from all of that, from wasting your life like she will waste hers. Did you want to go?”

  She was playing with something in her other hand, and Taimi speculated that her mother had her wand with her. Her heart sank. She couldn’t be a tree, not yet. There were hours until nightfall.

  “I did, Mom,” she said. There was no point in lying. Besides, maybe if she told her mother that truth, she wouldn’t question her about Ranger. “It seemed like it would be fun.”

  Her mother’s face twisted into a furious sneer. “You aren’t to be with people like her. Do you understand me?”

  Taimi gulped and nodded.

  Her mother returned to her wine before shooting Taimi a hard stare. “I’ll be back. I’m going out for a bit. You are on your own for dinner.” She left, leaving Taimi alone.

  It was an hour later, maybe two, when Taimi stretched and studied the horizon. It was getting closer to sunset and she sighed with regret. She wanted to watch the stars come out as a human, not as a tree. But there was nothing else to do. She closed her books and stashed them in the pack, then picked at the food, her appetite gone. She had to get to the rooftop, or she would be yanked up there.

  She set her silverware in the sink and placed her phone in her pocket before making her way to the roof. The door slammed shut behind her and the automatic lock engaged. She was stuck on the roof until morning. She could almost feel the branches of her other self now. Taimi walked over to the empty pot, which would soon be a dogwood. She was the tree and the tree was her, and they were one.

  There was no sign of her mother. The sun dipped closer to the horizon, signaling the end of her freedom for another night. Taimi sighed.

  Her phone rang, startling her. She’d almost forgotten she had it. She had intended to surf the Internet before the end of the day, but it was too close to sunset. She didn’t have long.

  “Hello?”

  There was a pause. “It’s Ranger.”

  She took in a sharp breath. “Hi,” she said, aware of the impending sunset. “How did you get my number?”

  “I have my ways,” he said with a touch of pride. “I will come visit later. You won’t be alone.”

  His words warmed her, making her wish she could stay human.

  “Thanks,” she replied, wishing she had the courage to say more. There was just something about this boy that spoke to her, but it was futile. Her mother would never let her date.

  “Where is your mom?”

  “She left earlier and hasn’t been back since. It doesn’t matter, Ranger. Her not being here won’t stop it.”

  “Oh, but I am here.”

  Taimi whirled, and almost dropped the phone.

  “Mom!”

  She tucked the phone out of sight and faced her mother.

  “I told you to stay away from him. That boy is trouble.”

  Taimi backed away. “We were just talking,” she protested, but her mother wagged a finger at her. In her other hand she held herbs and Taimi stared at them. They were part of her rituals. If Miranda was going to keep her in tree form, she couldn’t bear it.

  She was aware that Ranger was on the other end listening to every word. It calmed her that he was hearing it all. She had to find a way to get through this. If she could just convince her mother before she became a tree, then maybe she wouldn’t change her. Now it made sense why she had left. She hadn’t gone anywhere at all, just hidden up here to catch Taimi.

  “You aren’t to talk to boys.”

  Taimi backed up, managing to secrete her phone in one of the planters when her mother turned away. To his credit he didn’t say anything, as though he understood the gravity of what was happening.

  “I’m sorry, Mom.” Sometimes throwing “Mom” in there softened things. She could not be turned back into a tree. The idea of going weeks…months…years in that form was too much. She was young and had a life to live.

  Her mother spun on her heels and exited, slamming and locking the door behind her. Taimi snatched the phone up and texted Ranger. “She’s going to make me stay in tree form. Please do something.”

  She sent it and waited, but he didn’t reply. Perhaps he’d been cut off, although the line still appeared to be live. Taimi stashed the phone again, feeling the compulsion to change begin to come over her.

  Her mother reappeared, the slam of the door ominous in the twilight. She advanced on Taimi but then watched as Taimi climbed onto the pot that kept her prisoner at night. Whatever she’d been about to do faded as she watched as Taimi changed from girl to tree, her roots extending. The dogwood appeared, and her main root curled around the piece of her mother buried in the middle of the pot.

  “Good. You have become your other form for the night. Very well. There are consequences for disobeying me. You are not going to be a girl for a while. We have some things to attend to. I will withdraw you from school, and say I am homeschooling you. Then there will be no que
stions. I will be here when it is time for you to transform again, to ensure that you do not. I hope you enjoyed being a human today. It will be your last for a long time. I will leave you tonight to contemplate the folly of your actions.”

  Her leaves and branches drooped toward the rooftop, and her mother barked out a bitter laugh. “You have no right to be sad, Missy. You caused this. You spoke to that boy when I told you not to. This is your fault.”

  With that, her mother turned and left, slamming the door behind her. Taimi struggled against her shift but it was no use. She was a tree for the night. And soon, she would be a tree forever.

  “Aunt Lizzy, Aunt Lizzy, we’ve got to do something.” Ranger burst into the apartment, his hair disheveled and his clothes flapping behind him.

  Lizzy jumped to her feet. “What’s happened?” She pointed to his phone.

  He shoved it toward the ceiling. “It’s Miranda. She’s going to turn Taimi into a tree. Forever. I think. I couldn’t hear all of it, but Miranda doesn’t like that I’m talking to Taimi and said she’s going to take her out of school and—”

  His words were cut off by a pounding down the hallway by more than one set of footsteps. Ranger shot Lizzy a panicked glance and she gestured to the outside patio.

  “Hide. Get out of sight. Use your wings if you have to. Quick. She is coming for you. There is no time.”

  He scrambled onto the balcony and swung over the side.

  “Where is he?” Miranda demanded when Lizzy opened the door. “Where is that boy who has poisoned my daughter with his presence?”

  Lizzy’s voice couldn’t be heard, only Miranda’s shrill tone, but Ranger waited.

  “Not here, you say? I don’t believe you.”

  He wondered why Miranda couldn’t tell, and then remembered that Lizzy had power of her own. She had lived here for five years without incident, never revealing the extent of her own abilities, all the while waiting for the perfect time.

  Miranda and two others swept through the apartment, peering through the rooms and onto the balcony. He hovered below it, hidden by the next veranda, praying that their downstairs neighbor wouldn’t emerge.

  Miranda’s strident voice came again. “I’m posting a guard at the door. He will not be permitted to come in when he returns. As for you, pack your stuff. I am evicting you.”

  Again, he couldn’t hear Lizzy’s words, but Miranda just huffed, and then with a loud clomp and a slam of the door, she was gone again.

  He waited for several moments and then maneuvered his way back onto the balcony. Moving across the floor in long strides so his footsteps wouldn’t be detected, he went to where Lizzy was still staring at the door. She started when he came up next to her and then put her arms around him. She was shaking.

  “Taimi is in terrible danger, Ranger. If we don’t rescue her before sunrise, it will be too late.”

  He started, giving her a fierce stare. “I’m down to rescue her, but what will happen to you if I do?”

  Lizzy shook her head. “Don’t worry about that. I can take care of myself. Tell me again what she said.”

  He relayed what he could recall of the conversation and she nodded.

  “Ranger, you have to get Taimi off the rooftop, but you must take her mother’s shard with you. You can’t go in public with a tree, so we have to time it right. We will do it before dawn, but close enough so that Taimi shifts.” She gestured to his room. “Try and get a bit of sleep. I will arrange things here. You will need money and clothes, although I dare not leave the apartment. I will do what I can. You must rescue Taimi before Miranda spells her again. Our only advantage is that she doesn’t know what you are and thinks she’s the only one who can get on the rooftop. Your ability is the only chance we have. It will be tricky, but I think we can do it. We have to do it before dawn, or she will be lost to us.”

  Ranger nodded, his heart pounding.

  Taimi fought to keep her intelligence while in tree form. Often, she allowed her other self to take over. Tonight, she would remember what it was like to be human. She hoped she didn’t forget in the months or years to come. Her life was over, and all because she’d desired some normalcy.

  She dipped her branches to where she had put her phone, but she couldn’t reach it. Not that there was anything she could say to Ranger, but it would have been nice to hear his voice. It was useless, like all her other wishes. By the time her mother released her, Ranger would be gone. She wasn’t even sure what age she would be when she was released from the spell. As long as she was a tree every night there was no escaping Miranda.

  She fought her branches and leaves, trying to make herself shift. For a moment, a hand separated from the bark but then it faded back.

  It was no use. She couldn’t transform herself into a girl. She was trapped.

  She was doomed.

  Ranger tried to sleep but he couldn’t. He tossed and turned, part of him longing to say to heck with it and go to the rooftop, even knowing that was a mistake. He couldn’t afford to be hasty. He fell into a light doze, punctuated with dreams of trees being chased by large animals and him driving them off with fire.

  He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep until his aunt was shaking him and telling him to get up.

  “It’s time,” she said. It was still pitch black, but he nodded. He was in his day clothes, although now they were rumpled and sleep disheveled.

  He yawned. “What time is it?”

  Aunt Lizzy handed him a pack. “You’ve got about twenty minutes until dawn. I hear rustling upstairs, so you’d better move. You don’t have much time before Miranda goes up there. I will stop her if I can. I called in some reinforcements. Ranger, you will have to get her to shift before sunrise. Take this and go. We are almost out of time.”

  He wished she hadn’t waited so long to wake him up, but there was nothing to do about it now. Ranger took the pack and then strode out onto the balcony.

  He would need the clothes when he was finished. He undressed, careful to conceal his privates from his aunt. He tucked the clothes he’d been wearing and then stretched—and shifted.

  In dragon form, Ranger was six feet in length, copper colored, with a massive square jaw. His tail was forked, and he had spiky scales protruding from his spine. With his new vertical pupils, he gazed at his aunt, who nodded at him.

  “Hurry,” she said.

  He picked up his backpack with one clawed foot and winged his way upward.

  He hovered before he landed, using his wings to be silent in his descent. Ranger shifted back to his human form, tugged on sweatpants and made his way toward the tree. He went around the corner to the quivering dogwood. Ranger understood that Taimi was trying to shift, trying to get out of her form, and willed her to do it. If she did, it would make this so much easier.

  The shaking of her branches subsided, and they drooped as though she were exhausted. It was possible she had been trying all night.

  Ranger spied her phone and dropped it into the pack. He had a feeling they would need it.

  “Taimi, Taimi, try and shift,” he whispered, the words frantic and desperate. He tried to keep it down so others wouldn’t hear, but anyone within earshot could hear the anxious tone in his voice. “Taimi, we’ve got to go. I’m here to take you away.”

  Her trunk moved and her leaves rustled, but she remained a tree.

  Then Ranger detected noise from below. They had miscalculated. Miranda was coming.

  Taimi shivered and shook, her leaves raining down with her effort. He took the pack and locked it around his ankle so he wouldn’t have to worry about it if they had to make an escape.

  He pushed at her pot. In his current human form, he couldn’t move it at all. It was too heavy for him. He shoved at it and it didn’t budge. For a moment, a vague leg shape emerged from the dogwood before it turned back into trunk and roots.

  “Stop it,” an unfamiliar man said from the apartment below him.

  Ranger ignored the man and pushed at the pot again.


  “You’ve got to go,” a voice that might have been his aunt said. Then there was more shouting and pounding as though there was a struggle.

  Sharp footsteps sounded on the stairs. Ranger spotted a metal bar and grabbed it. He shoved it behind the handle so the bar was braced across the door and the frame. It wouldn’t slow them down for long. He ran back to the pot.

  “Come on, come on!” Ranger shoved at her prison, willing Taimi to manifest. He glanced toward the sky. It would be another ten minutes to sunrise, until she changed. The witches would come bursting through that door long before then, bringing their muscle and spells with them to take Taimi away. They would lock her away in some house where one stream of light came down in the middle to keep her alive in tree form for decades, until he was old and grey, and she would forget him. If they didn’t escape now, there was no hope for them.

  He wrenched at the pot again, and cursed when his hands slipped off, tearing his nails, scoring cuts on his fingers. Ranger fell back, tumbling over a nearby vine.

  “Taimi,” he said, smacking his hands against her trunk. She could hear him—he was sure of it. Maybe he could find the right combination of words and actions to get her to change now—now—before it was too late.

  Far below him was the sound of running feet. The witches were coming. He no longer had even ten minutes. He had two, maybe less depending on how fast they could run. The bar across the rooftop door wouldn’t hold much longer.

  “Taimi,” he shouted, and her branches bent and dipped, her leaves rustling but she remained a tree. There was no sign of flesh or limbs. The pounding grew louder. One floor, then another. It would be mere moments.

  He had no choice. He couldn’t care about what people perceived, or what talk there was going to be, he had to do what he had to do. It was the only way to save her.

  He summoned his dragon. A moment later the copper-colored dragon stood where Ranger had been, the shredded remains of his sweatpants on the ground. It roared once and then spun to face the door. Plants crashed to the rooftop, spilling their contents as he banged into the planters. A vine snapped and tumbled to the floor. The part of the dragon that was Ranger perceived the humans slam against the door. The metal rod bent under the pressure. He could flame them, but he had other priorities. Perhaps he would come back and roast them.