I still felt it keenly – the sensation of being utterly free – as I’d shot through the air. Josephine was right. I was meant to fly, and it scared me so badly that my hands trembled. I shoved them into my pockets, struggling to keep my face calm.
‘All right,’ I breathed.
Josephine’s eyes widened. ‘What?’
‘All right,’ I repeated, closing my eyes. ‘I’ll do it.’
17. Healing Wounds
Saying I was going to fly was one thing. Actually doing it was another.
With only two flights under my belt, I knew I needed some running room for my take off. I didn’t feel particularly comfortable around so many large trees, so Josephine and I hurried along the path, peering through the foliage until we spotted a field just past the river, large enough to use as a runway.
I shivered in my skin with anticipation. We strolled through the wild grass, talking about the logistics of flying as if it was the most normal thing in the world. It was crazy. It was insane. Yet, for some reason, I was totally okay with it. I was about to come to terms with something that had terrified me from the moment I’d become a gargoyle.
‘So what does it feel like?’ Josephine asked.
I pushed my hood from my head, avoiding the grooved horns at my temples. ‘It’s … well, I guess it’s sort of like running. Pumping my wings is work, and making them move where I want isn’t easy. But the energy is pretty awesome.’ I glanced at Josephine, feeling weirdly shy. ‘It feels … good.’
Josephine smiled at me. ‘I’m glad.’
The sky had turned completely gray, without a hint of the sun’s earlier rays, and the clouds loomed with the possibility of an afternoon shower later. The weather was perfect, and the overcast day was like a breath of fresh air. I let out a grateful sigh. We were far from the road, and the thick forest hid the town from view. We were completely alone.
‘This looks like a good spot,’ I said.
Josephine was a bundle of scarcely contained curiosity. ‘So, what do you do first?’
I couldn’t help laughing as I shrugged off my jacket and Josephine tucked it inside the picnic basket. ‘I don’t really know. The other two times I flew, I was just moving on instinct, really. I didn’t think about the details.’
‘Creature of instinct,’ she murmured to herself. Her brow knitted in thought. I pulled my gaze away to keep from staring at her. ‘Okay,’ she continued in a louder voice. ‘Then I guess you should do the same thing now, right?’
‘Right,’ I repeated, my nerves kicking in. ‘Instinct.’
I took a deep breath and flexed my back. The movement flowed into the muscles and bones of my wings – which still felt foreign in so many ways. They were a part of me and I controlled them, but it was like moving my arms after they’d fallen asleep – a weird, tingly sensation. My wings expanded with a heavy flapping noise. I glanced to my left and right.
God, they really were huge.
‘Wow,’ said Josephine, clearly thinking the same thing. ‘That’s got to be, like, twenty feet across.’
‘Eighteen and a half,’ I replied, feeling uncomfortable but also strangely excited. ‘They’ve grown a bit since I came to the Circe. Karl measured my wingspan a few days ago.’
‘How did you ever hide these in your jacket?’
I folded them in and out like an accordion to demonstrate. ‘I guess it’s because I don’t have to worry about all the feathers, right?’
The way Josephine smiled made my head spin. ‘Ready for lift-off?’ she asked, backing away.
‘Here we go,’ I said with more confidence than I felt. I stroked my wings like big leather oars. Only my wings weren’t stiff. The bone framework curled and uncurled like giant fingers; the leathery membranes rippling with each flap. Against the gray clouds and yellowish grass, the skin of my wings held an incandescent sheen.
Josephine watched me with a silent kind of contemplation that I couldn’t quite read. I fluttered them several more times, and allowed myself to enjoy the stretch. Then I folded them tight against my back in preparation. I lifted my eyes to the grassy clearing and planted my feet against the ground, ready to push off like a sprinter on the blocks.
‘On your mark,’ said Josephine, her eyes bright.
‘Get set,’ I added, bracing myself.
Josephine spread her arms. ‘Go!’
I bolted forward in a dead run. I gained speed quickly – quicker than I’d imagined I could. And then, I just felt what to do next. I leapt and – at the same moment – unfurled my wings. They caught the air, and I pumped them with all my strength. The movement shot me up and forward like a bullet, and I pumped again.
And again. And again. And again.
When I looked down, I was shocked to see how far I was above the ground. The wind whipped against my face, ruffled my shirt, and tore through my hair. Thinking back to my rescue of Josephine, I leaned to one side and tipped my opposite wing towards the clouds. I turned with the air current and changed direction. Josephine stared up at me, looking awed and thrilled, like she was watching one of the Circe’s performances.
As I rapidly approached the takeoff area, I wondered if I could stop. I knew how to make a running landing, what about when I was actually in the air? Images from a cheesy fantasy movie Hugo and I’d seen last year popped into my head. The dragon in the film had hovered in midair by angling its body and tilting its wings. It was a bad film, but not a bad idea.
Just as I passed over Josephine’s head, I arched my back, forcing my shoulder blades together, and thrust my legs toward the ground. It was as if my wings knew exactly what to do. They angled, and I flapped them at a slower pace. The tactic worked.
I hovered above Josephine, my body moving like I was treading water in a swimming pool, only with wings instead of legs. ‘How was that?’
‘That was awesome,’ Josephine called up to me, clapping her hands. ‘You look great.’
‘Thanks,’ I grinned back at her, forgetting for a moment about my appearance and reveling in the freedom I felt. ‘Maybe I’m getting the hang of it.’
‘Well, I hope so,’ Josephine answered quickly. ‘Because it’s my turn.’
‘And what exactly did you have in mind?’ I asked, feeling my stomach jumping to the beat of my wings.
She held up her right arm. She said, ‘Wrap your fingers just above my wrist.’
I angled my body downward, wobbling slightly as I adjusted the tilt and flap of my wings. I grabbed her arm, and she grabbed mine. Our linked arms felt strong – the grip I’d seen her use in her routines with Andre. ‘Okay, now what?’
She winked. ‘Just lift and fly. Straight shot across the field.’
I pumped my wings and took off. She swung beneath me – several feet above the grass – testing the sensation. It was like watching her on the silk ribbons of the Circe act again. There was no fear in her expression, only exhilaration. I saw the flex of muscle in her arms; the taut tendons in her neck. It was as if a routine had been specially crafted for us – a blend of gargoyle and Gypsy, like an ancient bond between us.
I kept low to the ground, flying at a leisurely speed and growing quickly accustomed to how my gargoyle body functioned in the air. Josephine called instructions up to me, and we switched arms as she dangled below. We reached the other end of the field, and I slowed as much as I was able without adjusting the nearly horizontal position I’d been flying in. She nodded at me, and I lowered her down and released my grip.
Josephine touched the grass with a circus performer’s skill. I flapped once, tucked my wings, and dropped beside her. My own landing was softer this time. I bent my knees to cushion the impact, and my body settled comfortably into a crouch. My adrenaline was pumping, but in a very different way.
‘We may have to rethink that idea of you joining the troupe,’ said Josephine, sounding both pleased and amused. ‘We’d make one really spectacular act.’
I laughed. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, the last time I tried perf
orming in front of an audience, I made Shakespeare roll over in his grave. I think I’ll just stick to the behind-the-scenes guardian stuff.’ My stomach rumbled, and I pressed my hand against my torso. ‘And speaking of which, I’m going to need some lunch if I want to keep up with my duties.’
Josephine looked over my shoulder. ‘Oh, I left the picnic basket on the other side of the field. Guess we’re going to have to fly back over and pick it up.’ She glanced at me. ‘On our way up to Copper Mountain, of course.’
The mountain loomed behind her, taunting me. It was isolated enough, but that wasn’t what made me nervous. ‘I’ve never gone that high before, Josephine. Are you sure you want to do this?’
There was no hesitation in her voice. ‘Definitely.’
My already racing pulse went into overdrive as Josephine moved in front of me. With slow determination, I scooped her up into my arms. It was impossible to get Josephine’s scent out of my head or ignore the heat of her arms around my neck as she held onto me.
I dug my heels in preparation. ‘Copper Mountain, here we come.’
Josephine’s eyes met mine, and the look on her face was so open, so trusting. I promised myself I’d never do anything that would change that. I broke into a run, pressing Josephine against my body to ease the jolts. This time, it only took half the distance before I knew I was ready to take flight.
I pushed off hard and beat my wings. My balance was slightly off with the Gypsy girl in my arms, but I immediately compensated. We streaked across the field, slowing only enough for Josephine to catch the handle of the picnic basket as we flew by. I pumped my wings, and soon we were easily twenty feet off the ground.
Energy drove through my veins; I flapped harder, sending us higher into the air. We soared over the tree line. To my left, the town fell away and then disappeared altogether. Up ahead, the secluded mountain’s green form grew larger. I angled my body in that direction, and we cut through the sky like a rocket.
‘This is amazing, Sebastian!’ Her arms tightened around my neck. ‘I feel like I’m dreaming!’
Copper Mountain rose before us, a mixture of green hardwoods and dark pines. Jagged cliffs of granite peeked out among the clearings of trees. I caught sight of the one narrow road that led up the mountain, and banked quickly, turning us in the opposite direction – away from any possible civilization. Though the mountain was a historic site and no one lived there, tourists and locals occasionally visited the spot.
I aimed for a deserted clearing, and we whisked through a grouping of oak trees. At the last moment, I righted my body hard and jerked to a stop in midair. I spread my wings wide and set us down on a flat chunk of rock.
Josephine glanced around the clearing. ‘Nice landing.’
I placed her on her feet. ‘I hope this spot works.’
There were a few stone picnic tables, but it appeared as though no one had used them in some time. It was off the beaten path. An old wooden sign stuck out of the ground with the number of the picnic area scrawled onto it, and just underneath, another sign read:
Hiking Trail – Lover’s Leap – 0.2 miles
‘It’s perfect,’ said Josephine.
We located one table situated near the edge, which provided a clear, unhindered view. Josephine pulled out a blanket and arranged it, smoothing out the wrinkles. She sat atop the table, feet on the bench. I mirrored her posture. My wings draped behind me and over the side of the table. Josephine set the basket between us, opened the lid, and we both peered inside.
‘Were you planning on having company?’ I asked, studying the piles of Tupperware.
‘Nope. Just you.’ She retrieved a plastic container and pried off the lid. It was full of lunch meats. The smell hit me hard. ‘I haven’t forgotten how you eat.’
‘You know me so well,’ I replied, wiping my mouth.
‘Well, I’ve watched you enough.’
My hand froze across my jaw. I didn’t look at Josephine, afraid she would see my expression, and then everything I’d been working for all afternoon would crumble. ‘Well, my appetite has a bit of a reputation.’
There was the sound of crinkling plastic wrap. ‘There’s that,’ Josephine replied, ‘but I’ve also noticed what you eat. Mostly meat, right?’
I stared at the roast beef, turkey, and ham she’d unfolded in front of me. ‘Actually, pretty much all meat.’ My stomach growled, irritated at the delay.
‘Any particular reason?’ Josephine’s mouth sounded full. The sound was cute, and I stole a glance in her direction. She was chewing on a tomato sandwich and wiping juice from her lips. ‘For the change, I mean,’ she continued. ‘I don’t remember you always eating that way. Just eating a lot.’
‘I can’t really eat too much other stuff.’
Josephine set her sandwich down. ‘Can’t?’
I picked up a piece of turkey between my claws and studied it. My teeth ached for the meat, straining just below my gums. ‘Most foods don’t agree with me too well anymore. I’m all about the protein. Karl says it’s a gargoyle thing,’ I continued with some reluctance. ‘Eggs and cheese aren’t too bad, but apparently meat’s about the only thing on the shadow creature food pyramid.’ I didn’t tell her how many evenings I’d spent retching over the sink in my trailer before I’d finally figured that out.
‘That’s really weird,’ she said finally.
‘A pretty accurate description for most things pertaining to me.’
Josephine laughed, and I took the opportunity to tear into the sandwich meat, whimpering softly. The pressure in my jaw lessened instantly. The sensation unnerved me, especially after my conversation with the circus trainer the night before.
As if reading my mind, Josephine spoke up again. ‘So how does Karl know what you can and can’t eat?’
I gnawed on a hunk of sliced turkey before swallowing it down. ‘He’s got some old books he’s going through.’ I suddenly paused, wondering if I’d said too much. I didn’t want to keep anything from Josephine, but I didn’t want to betray Karl either. Josephine took another bite of her sandwich, and I chose my next words carefully. ‘Just a bunch of old stories, really. Nothing concrete.’
Josephine nodded, chewing thoughtfully. ‘So, what about liquids?’ she asked after a few moments. ‘Are you limited to protein shakes, or what?’ She smiled, but the look in her eyes was serious.
‘Water mostly. And coffee. Maybe because it’s so thick. I don’t know. But thankfully, I can still drink that.’
‘Remind me to brew a large pot when we get home.’
‘Will do,’ I replied.
She handed me a bottled water. We ate in comfortable quiet, with only my occasional involuntary growls breaking the silence as I devoured the meal. Josephine pretended not to notice. She’d packed a few hamburger patties as well, and I munched on them like a true carnivore, while she finished her sandwich and a bag of chips. After we’d eaten, she stared into the basket.
‘Well, I brought along a couple of pieces of my mom’s chocolate cake for dessert,’ she said. ‘But I don’t guess that’s really on your menu.’
‘I could try it,’ I offered automatically, seeing the disappointment on her face.
Josephine smiled hopefully, and she pulled out a plate covered with clear wrap, piled high with the most delicious looking cake I’d ever seen.
‘You’re sure?’ she asked as she pulled back the plastic.
The smell of chocolate filled my nose, but it wasn’t as appealing as I’d hoped. I shook it off. A few bites wouldn’t hurt anything. ‘I think it would be rude to let your mother’s hard work go to waste.’
Josephine produced a couple of forks. ‘That’s true.’
She took a bite, and I watched her chew. Her face took on that glow that could only come from a rush of sugared bliss. I licked my lips, remembering the way it used to feel. ‘Your mom must be a good cook.’
‘Try some,’ she said as she went for another bite.
I stabbed into the cake with my fork
and brought it to my lips. Layers of icing hung thick over the sides. The cake should’ve tasted amazing. But the smell was all wrong, and as soon as I’d placed the bite in my mouth and began to chew, I knew I’d made a mistake.
Reflexes kicked in, and I gagged. I jerked my head in the opposite direction and spit the chunk out of my mouth. I gulped water until the horrible taste was finally off my tongue. I leaned forward, grimaced, and wiped my lips with the back of my hand. ‘Okay, bad idea.’
Josephine was completely quiet. Then I heard the crinkling of paper once more. When I glanced up, the cake was gone. ‘I’m sorry, Sebastian.’
The look on her face made my heart hurt. Impulsively, I reached out and touched her shoulder. As I did so, it was like placing my fingers in a socket. I pulled back, taking a deep breath as tingles of electricity sizzled down my spine.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ I replied with only a trace of a quiver in my voice that I prayed Josephine would overlook. ‘With my appetite, I’d have finished off the entire cake and left you empty-handed.’
‘Well, you saved me from an extra workout. Mom’s cake is pretty heavy.’
‘I do what I can to help,’ I replied. At that moment, a soft flow of understanding and mutual connection passed between us. My senses were awake and alive, but everything outside our small world was nonexistent.
‘Do you miss it?’ she asked after a while.
I glanced sideways at her. The breeze whispered through the trees, wafting through her hair. I could smell her scent even more clearly in the mountain air. ‘The food? Yeah, sometimes. I have – had – a weakness for pizza. And salt and vinegar potato chips.’ Josephine made a face, and I shrugged. ‘It’s an acquired taste.’
I leaned back, propping myself on my arms. I wasn’t sure how long we sat there enjoying the mountain scenery, but I would’ve gone on forever. I’d never felt so relaxed around Josephine before, not like this. As if I could finally – almost – be myself. But then Josephine shifted, and the buzzing current between us was gone.
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