“Let the festivities begin!” Torien shouted.
And begin they did. Two Winged Blue walked on stilts, breathing out blue and silver flames in the shapes of various birds Wren had never seen before. Three huge tables were so weighed down with delicious-looking food and drink that Wren half-expected them to collapse. A band played unfamiliar instruments but familiar music, an old jazz tune Wren recognized but couldn’t name. And many, many Winged all looked in her direction with an abnormal amount of appreciation, considering that they’d never met before. It was probably because of her “Savior” status, though. That has to be it, she thought.
After receiving hugs from her mom, Sia, and then Rysha, Wren filled a plate with food and got a mug of sweet-and-spicy scented punch. She found a seat at one of the tables and was joined by Sia, her mom and dad, Rysha, Kriss, and Yhen. She didn’t mind being around Rysha for the first time since she’d met her, and it didn’t hurt when Torien told Wren that Rysha had come up with all the ideas for her robe.
“I just thought it would be a nice way for all of us to welcome you here,” Rysha said, her humbleness helping to tip Wren’s opinion of her a little further into the positive.
After almost too many people had shaken her hand and she’d eaten more than her fill of food, Wren decided she needed a break. She told everyone around her that she wanted to explore the garden. She wandered through the flowers, amazed at both the garden’s beauty and its size, and found her way down the hill the garden grew upon; the party grew farther and farther away until the distance between her and the festivities eclipsed both its sounds and the sight of them.
Wren sat down on a bench at the bottom of the hill, a tall hedge with jasmine-like flowers at her back. She shut her eyes to rest them for a while, but they stayed closed for only a short moment. Just after she’d shut them, a female voice interrupted the tranquil quiet. “You’re Wren, aren’t you?” the voice asked, and Wren opened her eyes.
She’d seen many beautiful people in her life, but this young-looking woman outshone them all. Her wavy auburn hair was shorter than Wren usually liked, but somehow the intensity of her features—her high, sharp cheekbones, her narrow, full-lipped mouth, her golden skin that almost glowed, and her large, aquamarine eyes—managed to make Wren ignore this fact. Instead, she found herself deciding that short hair was better than long, and always had been, and this graceful, flawless woman was the proof that it was so.
“Um, yes, I’m Wren. And who are you?” She realized instantly how rude her question’s wording was, but instead of saying anything about it, the woman glided into the space next to Wren and put her hand on Wren’s knee.
Normally such an assuming physical gesture would have bothered her, but the woman’s looks made it welcome somehow, and Wren just smiled, feeling stupefied and awestruck, as she listened to the woman’s answer.
“I’m Elle. And I’m here to help you. Do you trust me?”
Wren answered in the affirmative with a quick, emphatic nod.
“Good. I’m going to assist you with your archery lesson tomorrow, and all you have to do is picture me. Does that sound easy enough?” Elle’s lips turned up into a smile that looked almost lascivious to Wren. She decided she hoped it was, even if the idea of a woman this attractive finding her attractive struck her as way past impossible. But when the woman asked a fourth question, it became abundantly clear to Wren that it wasn’t impossible, not at all. “You look beautiful in that dress, Wren. May I kiss you? I know that’s forward of—”
Wren couldn’t get herself to wait for the end of Elle’s statement before she uttered a loud, insistent, “Yes!” And before she could say anything else, the woman’s luscious, soft lips were upon hers, tasting of cinnamon and sugar. It wasn’t the deliciousness of whatever Elle was wearing on her mouth that made Wren lose herself in her first kiss. It was the fact that it was obvious to her, even as someone who had never kissed anyone in her life, that Elle was a world-class kisser.
Their kiss felt like it lasted for hours, but when Elle removed her lips from Wren’s, it also felt like it had lasted far too short a time. “That’s all for now, I’m afraid,” she said in her low, supple voice. “I have to go. But remember to think of me tomorrow, and your arrows will easily meet their marks. I will see you soon, though, I promise, and I can’t wait for that moment.” Elle winked and then rose from the bench, but instead of her walking away, a cloud of blue mist began to spread from her feet, slowly twining its way up her body. As the mist reached her head, she said one final thing to Wren. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone about this, or all will be lost.”
“I promise!” The second after Wren spoke, the mist swirled up around Elle’s head, and then it began to dissipate, until it was quite clear that Elle and her lovely lips were gone.
Wren sluggishly adjusted to the woman’s sudden disappearance, deciding that the kiss had definitely been too brief, and so had the time she’d just spent with Elle. As Wren slowly found her way back up the hill and to the party, she thought about that wonderful kiss. But how would merely thinking of Elle help with her first time using a bow?
The sight of a large, four-tiered cake sitting in the middle of the partygoers momentarily distracted her from thoughts of the woman she’d just met, and kissed, but only until the cake had been cut and she’d blown out the candles. The memory of the woman and that passionate kiss kept reappearing in her mind, interrupting any chance of Wren staying in the present.
Despite her mental absence, the party still continued, and the cake was soon served. The first slice, which went to Wren, was decorated with an elegant gold-and-silver orchid, made out of mousse-like, delicately sweet frosting. The rest of the night passed in a blur, although she was sure when the night finally drew to a close that she’d had a huge amount of fun.
As Wren got ready for bed, her thoughts were filled with pictures and sounds of the party, but those memories were mixed with thoughts of Elle. She had trouble falling asleep that night—that first kiss kept playing and replaying in her head, every second of it perfectly recorded in Wren’s mind. The rest of the night had been wonderful, too, but the kiss stood out—the kiss, and Elle’s face.
They floated around in Wren’s head, rushing to the forefront of her mind again and again until, finally, sleep took over, and Wren became lost in that night’s dreams instead of Elle’s lips.
*
Wren was still asleep when the mirror in her bedroom began to change. Instead of showing her sleeping in her bed, a red haze had begun to swirl around beneath the mirror’s glass surface, until it was filled with crimson clouds and not a single inch of Wren’s bedroom could still be seen.
“Look at how much Wren has grown since she was last in this world,” came a voice from the mirror.
“Only you would know that,” a younger, haughtier voice replied. “I hope she will follow the advice of our Seer, as you and I have planned. I still don’t know if you’ve done everything necessary though. I feel like we need to do more, or at least that you need to do more.”
“Everything will work just fine. I’ve completed every step I can, for the time being. As you well know, part of it depends on you, my friend. And remember, you are still only second-in-command to me, young woman.”
“I know, you don’t need to remind me.” The younger woman sounded annoyed at what likely were words she’d heard before from her older superior.
“Wren will follow what the Red Seer has planned for her, what we have planned for her. Is everything in place with the Blue’s Seer, though?”
“Of course. He’s been blocked from witnessing everything we don’t want him to see, but our Seer is also unable to see everything, as you’re already aware.”
“Yes, of course I am.” The older raven’s voice held a hint of anger, but it was unclear whether it was directed at the younger raven or the knowledge they shared of their Seer. “And it’s quite maddening, to be blocked from what may be some incredibly important facts about young Wren�
�s future. I’m sure everything will work out in the end, though. We have everything planned perfectly. We will not fail.”
“We can’t fail, either.”
“Well, we’ll know whether we will succeed…or fail…in only a few short days and nights.”
Then the mirror’s surface began to clear, until Wren’s sleeping form underneath her blankets was once again all that was reflected in its surface. The mirror couldn’t show Wren’s suddenly troubled dreams, though. Nor could it reflect the anxious furrows in her forehead that were covered by her hair, their creases appearing as soon as the mirror had begun to turn red.
Chapter Twenty-two
The next morning, the triplets joined Wren, Denise, and Torien for breakfast at the large dining table. Denise didn’t even come close to hiding her glee when Quiq sat next to her, and he looked equally happy to see her. The two soon lost themselves in a private conversation about the previous night’s party, and Wren remembered seeing her mom spend most of the night by his side, laughing and flirting more than Wren had thought appropriate for public. She also noted that Quiq was still wearing what he’d worn the previous night, which led her to believe he hadn’t left the mansion’s grounds or, potentially, her mom’s side.
The thought of what this meant almost spoiled her appetite completely, so she ate more lightly that morning than the previous one, this despite the fact that the spread laid out before them was just as tasty as all the food in Azyr had been so far, more delicious than anything she’d ever had on Earth.
While Wren was chewing her final bite of coffee cake, Quiq spoke to her for the first time since he’d wished her a good morning. “Your mom tells me you’re a really good cook.”
“The best!” Denise said, sending a short, sweet grin in Wren’s direction before she returned to ogling Quiq (as she had been during all of breakfast).
“I guess I’m okay at it,” Wren answered, taking a swallow of coffee so she wouldn’t have to say anything else.
“Oh, she’s far better than just okay, aren’t you, Wren? Be honest.” Denise looked in her direction again, with a clear expression of pride joined by an expectant stare.
Did her mom really believe she would ever answer in the affirmative to such a statement? Wren supposed Denise did, so she did something she’d never done before, saying, “Yeah, I guess I am.”
Where the hell did that come from? Wren thought she might die of embarrassment and halfway hoped she would, but no one looked at her in the way she expected them to: doubtfully or disgustedly. And no one said, “How dare Wren give herself a compliment?” either. Instead, everything stayed calm and pleasant as the meal wrapped up, and there wasn’t a single trace of fallout from Wren’s statement about her abilities.
That fact made it seem like it might not have been wrong for her to do so. Not even slightly wrong.
After breakfast, the triplets led Wren out of the mansion and through an intimidating iron gate, where her bow and quiver were leaning against a high brick wall. In front of the wall, about one hundred feet away from it, was a row of targets, with concentric black circles all leading toward the place Wren knew she would never hit: the red bull’s-eye. The fact that a red bull’s-eye might have a different meaning in this world didn’t escape her.
“So,” said Speyd, “you ready to start heading away from sucking horribly with that bow? I bet it won’t be long at all until you only half-suck.”
“My dear sister,” Quiq said, pulling her a few feet away from Wren, “I think you could find better ways to motivate the girl. But you’re the best with the bow, so how about you leave the pep talks to me, and you take care of teaching her how to hold it?”
“Sure, Quiq, sure, if you say so. That type of motivation always worked fine on me, though,” Speyd grumbled as she went over to where Wren’s weapon sat. She picked up the bow and a single arrow and brought them over to Wren. “You’ll get the next arrow in just a few minutes, just as soon as you’ve missed…I mean, fired at your first target.”
Wren took the bow and arrow from Speyd, who then led her to a line of white chalk parallel to the targets. The female triplet stood behind Wren then, helping her find where to place her hand on the bow and how to set up the arrow so it would, as Speyd said, “fly true.” Wren tried to ignore it when Speyd added that it would fly like a falsehood for her at first, but she wasn’t able to lessen the slight shake in her arms as she finally held the bow and arrow in her hands alone. She lined up the arrow the way Speyd had taught her, squinting at the target that seemed miles in front of her, and prepared to let go.
“Wait,” Speyd said with a laugh. “Not everything is set up correctly yet.”
Wren watched with no small amount of apprehension as, to her left, Faest wrote something in the dirt with a silver rod. What on Earth…on Shyon is he doing?
Everything was made clear when the row of targets began to wobble and then float upward, until they were about ten feet off the ground. Wren groaned, but she knew this training was necessary, and she was easily able to figure out the need for the targets to be in the air. That would probably be where she would be during the battle as well, so she might as well get used to it in less stressful circumstances. She released her wings and flew up until she was level with the targets, careful not to go past the white line.
Flying while wielding a bow was challenging for a beginning flyer like her, but more challenging was firing the arrow. Wren did her best, letting it go when the bowstring was as tight as she could pull it, but the arrow didn’t fly true, not at all. It reached the top of its awkward arc only about halfway to the target, hitting the ground softly and only bringing up a small cloud of dust.
Her next four arrows didn’t do much better, even despite helpful pointers from each of the triplets. Quiq was the most patient of the three, but she managed to get her following arrow to travel only a few extra feet after his lengthy lesson. This was like learning to fly all over again, she thought as her eighth arrow missed yet again.
She wanted to give up after fifteen arrows and fifteen failures, but Quiq suggested she just take a short break, close her eyes, and take a few deep breaths. Wren figured that couldn’t hurt, so she did as he suggested.
It was then that she thought again of the woman she’d met the night before and what she had said: to think of her when she was doing her target practice, and that doing so would help Wren succeed in hitting the target. Or something like that…
So Wren closed her eyes, floating above the ground and holding her bow loosely in one hand, an arrow in her other. She pictured Elle’s face, every bit of it almost perfectly memorized from only their brief meeting. Then the thought of Elle turned into a fantasy, one where Elle was leading her onto a dance floor in a crowded club.
A heavy bass line thumped throughout the room, matching itself to the beat of Wren’s heart. All around them, women in low-cut shirts and short skirts or skintight jeans moved in rhythm to the music, their skin dewy with sweat.
Elle led Wren by her hand, until they stood in the center of the floor, with flashing lights all around them, going on and off to the beat of the music. When they were off, she felt Elle place her hands on her hips, and when the lights turned back on, Elle began to dance with her, the heavy pulse of the song’s drums leading Wren to dance as well.
Elle leaned forward, as the lights flashed and the women around them danced, and then she brought her lips to Wren’s ear. “Fire the arrow. Now!”
Wren heard a loud whiz go shooting away from her, and she slowly opened her eyes. By the time she had them open fully, her arrow had already reached the other side of the target area, and it had also reached the red center of the target that lay ahead of her. Wren whooped and did a little dance, one that wasn’t nearly as hot as the one Elle had done in her fantasy, one that in fact was downright silly-looking, she was sure. But the triplets didn’t seem to think so, Speyd and Faest patting her on the back when she landed and Quiq drawing her into a tight half-hug at his side.
“You did good,” he told her. “Great, actually. Your mom and Torien will be really proud. Why don’t we break for lunch, and then we can come out here and you can be amazingly awesome again.”
“Bet you can’t do that twice,” Faest told her with a slightly rough elbow to her side. It was clear that he had been impressed with her triumph, at least at first, but it was also clear he wouldn’t stay that way for long. She’d just have to see if she could repeat her success.
It annoyed her a little that she hadn’t succeeded without help—though how that fantasy had helped her, she had no clue. The power of her fantasy would have to be explained later, whenever she met Elle again. Wren didn’t know when that would be, but she didn’t possess the patience to wait very long until she saw the gorgeous woman once more. Yes, she realized, she could hardly wait until she had the chance to kiss Elle’s soft, welcoming lips for the second time.
Chapter Twenty-three
That night, Wren awoke to a loud sound. After listening a moment further, she realized it had been a thunderclap, echoing through her room and entering through the open bedroom window. Rain was pouring down outside, fast and heavy, and then an almost blinding flash of lightning followed the sound that had woken her.
It was an epic storm; its size and power drew her to her bedroom’s partway-open main window to watch the rain fall and lightning strike outside. Strangely, the rain almost looked red. Was that just a trick of the light?
But something else was happening, something far more interesting than a simple summer thunderstorm: a red raven was flying straight toward her, then alighted on her windowsill, just as Sia had, back on Earth.
Believing in Blue Page 15