The fact that it was a red raven frightened Wren almost into backing away. She only just managed to hold her ground, calling out to the raven, “What are you doing here?” The storm almost drowned out her trembling yell, and she barely heard the raven’s reply.
“I will see you soon, Wren,” it said. A woman’s voice came from its large, crimson beak. Then it flew off. And Wren, despite the shock of seeing one of the Winged Red in the Blue’s land, was surprised to find herself crossing her bedroom once more and climbing back into bed.
When morning came, the memory of the storm and the visit of a red female raven had faded only slightly. A glance out her open window showed no sign of a storm having occurred during the night. The sky outside didn’t contain a single cloud, and the grass and bushes were completely dry. She decided it had just been a bad dream as she dressed in an amber robe and went downstairs for breakfast.
Only her father was at the breakfast table, reading a cloth-covered book and eating a piece of jam-smothered toast. He looked up when Wren entered the room. “Good to see you, Wrenny, and good morning. I hope you slept well?”
“Yeah, except for a bad dream.”
“Oh? What was it about?” Torien marked his place in the book and put it down next to his half-finished plate of food.
“A storm.” Wren kept the rest to herself. Maybe she would tell her dad later, but first she wanted a chance to get some food into her stomach, along with some much-needed coffee.
“Afraid of storms still, huh?” He pushed a large dish of toast and eggs closer to where a second place had been set for breakfast.
Wren sat down and loaded up her plate with eggs, toast, and some sort of meat; it looked like bacon but was the color of well-done steak. She decided to call it “steacon,” especially after taking a bite that tasted like a wonderful mixture of the two.
“So, it’s just you and me today. Denise is eating outside with Quiq, and Faest and Speyd are sparring. Rysha is at home taking care of something, can’t remember what. And Sia’s at home with her family. She said to say ‘hi’ when I ran into her in the marketplace this morning.” Torien took another bite of toast, the loud sound of his teeth crunching through the bread almost making Wren jump.
What the hell was going on with her? She had no reason to be nervous, so she pushed her tension down and turned her attention back to breakfast and her father’s company. “That’s nice of her,” she told him in answer. She might have been more excited to get a “hello” from Sia if it hadn’t been for meeting Elle. She still liked Sia, of course, but Elle had completely replaced her in the category of love interests. Sure, Sia was attractive, and Wren enjoyed being around her, but she didn’t draw Wren to her, not the way Elle did; she didn’t constantly haunt her thoughts.
After Wren had eaten her fill, she pushed away her plate and wiped some crumbs off her mouth. She had decided with her last few bites of breakfast that she needed to tell her dad about the previous night, even if it had probably just been a dream. “So, Dad? There was more to my dream. The rain, it looked like it might have been red, and a red raven landed on my windowsill. It said it would see me soon, and then it left, and I went back to bed.”
“Sometimes, Wren, the especially powerful Winged have visions.”
“You think that’s what it was?” She didn’t want it to be a vision. A vision meant that whoever that red raven was had been telling her the truth.
“Or maybe it was just a dream. As you can see by looking through the open doors behind us, there are no carnelian-colored puddles outside. Or any puddles at all.”
Her father was right, at least about the lack of puddles, and nothing outside was red, either, not even the flowers within her range of vision. “I’m pretty sure it was just a dream, then,” she told her dad. She didn’t tell him the fact that the dream, or whatever it had been, hadn’t felt like it had come from her. Instead, it felt almost as though someone else had placed it inside her head…almost like they had forced the dream into her mind.
“You could be right, and you may just be worried about the days ahead of us,” he said. “I won’t judge you at all if you are, but I’m very confident in your abilities, especially after I heard about your target practice yesterday. Now we just have to wait for your power to pop into place, and then you’ll be fully ready for whatever is next.”
Wren gave her dad a quick hug, hiding her nervousness behind a faked smile. “I’m going outside for some more target practice. I want to make sure my abilities yesterday weren’t just a fluke.”
“Oh, I doubt they were, but that sounds wise of you, all the same. Even the best can still get better. It’s important to remember that we all always have room to grow and change,” Torien advised her, and his strong, stable voice told her all she needed to know about whether her father meant the words he’d just spoken.
Feeling slightly reassured by her father’s positivity, Wren left the room. She found her bow and a full quiver propped up against the door that led to the outdoor practice area. She hung the quiver over her right shoulder and picked up the bow, stepping outside to the place where she’d made her first bull’s-eye. Wren wished she’d hit it without anyone’s support but her own. But if she’d had to have some help, at least it was Elle who had provided the necessary assistance.
After she’d taken note that the targets were already floating, she flew into the air and drew back her bowstring, an arrow in place and aimed straight at the target in front of her. She did just what she’d done the day before, picturing Elle dancing with her, and her arrows found the bull’s-eye again and again. Hours later, and thoroughly worn out, she noticed that the sun had moved a fair distance across the sky; it was likely sometime around noon or one. A growl from her stomach told her that no matter what time it was, her body was insisting it was time for lunch.
Back inside, she replaced her weapon and quiver by the same door and headed to the dining room, where yet another large spread of delectable food awaited her and her quietly growly stomach on numerous white, porcelain platters. Sia also happened to be there, and she looked in Wren’s direction and grinned when Wren entered the room. She was still glad to see Sia, even if she didn’t hold Wren’s interest the way she had in the past.
She realized then, with slowly growing certainty, that Sia was just meant to be her friend. Which was just fine, because she was really good company. Wren found herself laughing again and again as they ate, and she was almost sad when the meal was over and Sia said she was leaving.
“My parents want to invite you over for dinner tonight,” Sia said after Wren had walked her to the front door. “That sound good to you?”
“It sounds great. What time would you like me to show up?”
“Around five thirty.”
Wren hadn’t noticed a single clock while she’d been staying with her dad, but she’d also had a lot on her mind since her arrival. She decided her number-one goal after Sia left would be to get a better feel for her dad’s house and whatever the Winged Blue possessed in terms of time-telling technology.
Sia gave her a hug good-bye, and Wren set off in search of timepieces. She was hopeful she would be lucky enough to find one before five thirty came and went.
Chapter Twenty-four
Wren managed to find a clock after only about ten minutes of wandering the halls of her dad’s home. Seated in a comfy armchair in middle of the cheerily lit library, she happily passed the hours between lunch and when she would have to leave for dinner by reading a book of short stories she’d found in her dad’s library. It was about various young women on Earth, and she kept laughing at all the details the obviously non-Earthling writer got wrong.
Sia had given her directions to her parents’ house before she’d left, and so at about five fifteen, Wren set out, looking forward to spending time with Kriss, Sia, and Yhen, as well as meeting Sia’s parents.
After flying for a number of minutes, she reached the road that led to Sia’s. But halfway down it, she paused in
mid-flight when she heard a woman’s voice, coming from a street to her left. “Psst, Wren. Come here…”
Wren recognized the voice instantly, and so she landed on the ground, hurrying off her prior path and down that street. A much more run-down group of buildings than any she’d seen so far lined it; if Azyr contained a bad section of the city, this must have been where it started. A short way down the street, she heard the familiar voice again, coming from an alley. “Wren, I’m in here…” the voice said. So Wren turned into the dimly lit alley, and partway down it stood Elle, wearing a black robe that was far more low-cut than any she’d seen since she arrived. Not that Wren was about to complain.
She did her best to keep her eyes on Elle’s face, and it wasn’t exactly painful to stare into her almost glowing, sea-colored eyes. They made Wren think of tropical waters, which made her think of Elle in a bikini, and she had trouble drawing her attention away from the delightful thought of rubbing sunscreen into Elle’s likely perfect shoulders.
When Elle spoke again, her incredibly sensual voice managed to pull Wren back to reality only a few seconds later. “I have something important to tell you and something equally important to give you.” She held out an envelope, and Wren didn’t hesitate at all, taking it from Elle’s hand and placing it inside her robe’s left pocket. It didn’t hurt that taking it from her allowed their hands to touch, a spark of wanting traveling from where Elle’s hand touched hers and rushing straight to Wren’s chest.
“I need you to open this envelope tomorrow night. Its contents will lead you to where you need to go. Your mother’s life depends on you doing as I say.” Then she pulled Wren into a tight embrace, pressing her lips against Wren’s for the second time, and this kiss was no less arousing than their first.
This time, Elle didn’t even remove her lips from Wren’s before she disappeared in a cloud of mist. But to Wren’s very confused eyes, the mist that had appeared this second time almost looked like it might have been red. Though if it had been, it only was that color for a very brief moment. After that, all Wren could see were the very last vestiges of a cloud of blue, fading quickly before her eyes.
Only when the mist was completely gone was Wren able think clearly again. That had been some kiss! As her mind cleared further, her plans for that night slowly returned to her head, and guessing that she might already be late, she rushed out of the alley and headed back toward Sia’s home. If she did happen to be late, which seemed likely by the time Sia’s house came into view, at least it was for a very good reason. If Elle had been telling the truth, about her mom’s safety…her real mom…then it had been worth ducking into that alley and hearing what she had to say. Besides, there had been that kiss, that amazing kiss, the feel of its heat still warming Wren’s lips as she reached Sia’s front door and knocked.
*
The dinner’s high point was some sort of fatty, roasted bird that tasted somewhat like duck, coated in rings of lemon and sage. Halfway through the meal, Wren had decided that Sia’s parents were charming, both of them just as funny as Sia, if not more so. Wren had a very enjoyable time during the meal, even if a not-exactly-small portion of her mind was still occupied with thoughts of Elle.
As Wren wiped her mouth on a soft cloth napkin at the end of the meal, she started to wonder what her new acquaintance had meant. Would her mother really be in danger if she didn’t do as Elle requested? It didn’t seem she had a choice about following her instructions, even if something about them didn’t seem quite right. But that was probably just nerves, nerves from finally getting to meet her birth mother. And, likely enough, from the chance to spend more time around Elle.
That particular part seemed as if it held more appeal than meeting her own mom, even if it meant she’d be learning why Passea had been gone for all these years. For Wren’s whole life, practically. She hoped that her birth mom would have a really good explanation for her lengthy disappearance. Passea had missed far more events in her life than even Wren’s dad had. She’d missed almost everything…except for her birth.
Once the plates and leftovers were cleared and dessert had been served, Wren finally managed to pull her attention back to the room she was in and the people in it. Sia’s mom Zyr was telling a story about Sia’s first time going swimming, and Wren did her best to concentrate on what the charming woman was saying. She was mostly able to, and no one seemed to notice that she’d checked out completely for a few minutes.
After everyone had finished dessert, Wren thanked her hosts and rose to leave, heading for the entryway and the walk back home. Sia accompanied her to the front door, but before Wren could go outside, Sia asked her if she wanted to go up to her room and hang out for a bit.
“Sorry, it’s just that I’m really tired. Thanks, though.” Wren knew the truth was that she didn’t want to because of Elle. She had no interest in going into Sia’s room, even if it would lead to more than just talking. Elle had stolen the final remnants of Wren’s attraction to Sia with that last kiss, and so with a hug and a quickly spoken, “Good night, Sia,” Wren left and started her walk home.
She was still buzzing slightly from her meeting with Elle when she got back to her dad’s house. What would he think, if she were to tell him about her mom still being alive? Would he tell her not to go? Wren decided it wasn’t worth the risk of a bad reaction from him, so she kept it all to herself, just as Elle had told her to.
Instead, she agreed to play a game of cards with Torien before she went to bed. No secrets left her lips while they played, but a smile danced across them because of those secrets, a smile she hoped Torien would think was directed at him. Then she chugged down the last of the now-lukewarm cinnamon-and-honey-flavored milk he’d made for her, gave him a light peck good night, and sleepily headed upstairs. Her tiredness was tempered with excitement, because Wren couldn’t wait for morning to come, as that would mean that the next night—when she would see Elle and finally meet her true mom—was that much closer to arriving.
Chapter Twenty-five
Sia hid the reason for her bad mood from her family as they talked and read before bed that night, but it seemed her mother had noticed her unusually sullen affect anyway. Zyr pulled her aside before Sia went upstairs.
“Is something wrong, honey?” she asked her, a gentle hand resting on each of Sia’s shoulders as she spoke.
“Nothing really, just…I guess I misunderstood a situation. But it’s fine. It shouldn’t exist in the first place. It’s better this way.” Sia hugged her mom. Then she said good night and headed up to her room, but she didn’t turn away soon enough to miss the doubting expression on her mom’s face.
Up in her room, her own doubts rose to the surface. She really liked Wren, despite the fact that her still-growing attraction to Wren was such a bad idea, and she’d thought Wren liked her back. As she sat in front of her mirror brushing her hair, she tried to clear away the thought of Wren’s sweet smile and of her sweet lips, lips that Sia had wanted to kiss for ages. It seemed that would never happen, though, so she resolved to do her best to get over this unhealthy crush and turned her focus to getting out the last stubborn tangles in her long hair.
Just as she was placing the hairbrush back in its spot, her mirror stopped reflecting her bedroom. Instead, she saw the image of a woman sitting at a table. She looked slightly older than Sia and went far beyond being slightly more attractive. She was tucking some of her short, reddish-brown hair behind one of her ears, a wolfish grin directed at whomever she was talking to. Then the vision shifted, and Sia saw the other side of the table, where Wren sat behind a plate that held the remains of what looked to be breakfast. Then the visual began to move away from Wren, panning until it reached a woman with a dark, wavy mane of hair, staring lovingly in Wren’s direction. Her look of compassion didn’t match the tone of her voice, though. She sounded downright angry as she spoke, although for some reason Sia wasn’t actually able to make out what she was saying.
The vision ended before Sia could
make any sense of the woman’s words, and she decided that she had to talk to Piru as soon as possible. She would set out for his house first thing in the morning, but first she’d have to somehow manage to get to sleep. It wouldn’t be easy, she knew, not after the shocking discovery she’d just made, because that woman had borne a striking resemblance to Wren and to the way Passea had been described to her by Torien and other Winged Blue.
Was it true, though? Had that woman been Wren’s missing mother? And what the heck had this vision been trying to tell her? Maybe it had something to do with the fact that all the walls surrounding the three seated women had been a color you almost never saw in the Winged Blue’s land. So had everything else in the room, down to the robes Wren was dressed in. Did that mean that Wren was in the land of the Winged Red?
And did that mean Passea was not a Winged Blue?
*
In the morning, Sia didn’t even eat breakfast before she set out for Piru’s. She was sure he’d have something around that she could eat, and even if he didn’t, this was too important to wait. Even if, now that she was dressed and downstairs, an inhalation told her some sort of sweet-smelling pastry was baking in the kitchen. Had that been a hint of almond she’d smelled? Could her brother be trying a new recipe?
But before her steps could veer into the kitchen so she could find out, and perhaps be the first judge of whatever that delicious smell was coming from, she forced herself away from the sunlit kitchen and went outside. She had much more vital things to take care of than merely enjoying another one of her brother’s creations, even though her mouth was watering at the thought of tasting the carrier of that delectable scent.
The flight to her grandfather’s house took more time than it normally did due to some strong winds, but Sia made it there as fast as she could. She was a little out of breath when she reached up to knock on his door, but as usual, it opened before her fist could even hit the wood once.
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