“‘Course not.” Wisdom brushed the comment aside. “He’s too stubborn for truth, covered it so much with lies that he can’t even see himself for what he truly is.” Turning to face his brother, he added, “What’s worse? He’s raised you and others on those same beliefs.”
Shy cast his gaze to the side as though in denial, and Wisdom knew without sight-reading what his thoughts centered on: Katherine and Twilight. All of them had been manipulated into believing humans were a common threat.
“If he could, I’m sure he’d use the White Wings to promote his ideas as well.” When his brother did not immediately reply, Wisdom asked, “So when will you be returning? You never said how long you’d stay, and you know how impatient Chronicles gets.”
A frown. “Probably sooner than I want.”
“That sounds promising.” Sarcasm slipped into his tone. “Will Chanté be traveling with you as well?”
A sigh. “No, I think he should stay. It would give him a chance to get used to humans.”
“Really? More so than yourself?” Wisdom raised an eyebrow, but Shy focused his attention elsewhere. “Fine. Keep your secrets, then. He’ll be safe with me.”
The glow of shifting light replaced conversation. Soft green, it shrunk to the size of its chosen form and lifted into flight. When the light dimmed, a hawk glided into the nearly woods.
I know he will, came a thought.
Wisdom watched the shadows of leaves playing over its boughs, his brother no longer in sight. Below, a stonewall separated woods from garden pathways and spacious backyard. A few tall trees planted around the flowerbeds provided adequate shade for sultry days.
Why keep Chanté? Is he not involved enough with humans now? Shy’s lack of response to his earlier question was puzzling. Just like Chronicles, he noted with souring doubt.
A harpy’s startling screech perked his ears toward the woods at the back of the mansion. White feathers flashed in between canopy foliage before Chanté swooped down, clutching his arm in one taloned hand.
Wisdom immediately shifted to his side, transforming from a sparrow once on the ground.
“What happened?”
Chanté shook out his hand, testing his fingers to make sure they still worked.
“Not sure.” He pointed to the treetops. “Something took a swipe at me up there. Didn’t see what it was, but it sure wasn’t human!”
“Not a Black Wing, I hope.” The Healer eyed the top boughs, heavy with greenery. Memory brought back his encounter with the large, carnivorous ‘Keyarx. If one was in Trully, no one would be safe. That’s just as bad as Jenario’s storm coming here!
A few others paused from outdoor chores to seek guidance from the prince, who waved them all inside.
“Keep everyone in for a while,” he said.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking precautions.”
“I meant you!” Chanté chirped, but Wisdom had already shifted into his own harpy form.
The wings that extended from a faint blue aura were dark, taken by accident a few years ago from a Black Wing. His own talons could rip the flesh clean off a human with little effort, though they were not nearly as long as a full-blooded Wing.
Corrigan would be proud, he thought as he scoped out the area before diving into the forest. Shadows quivered over his form and toyed with his vision. He tried to pinpoint where exactly the harpy’s cry had come from, and used his claws to climb after latching onto one of the trees.
It was a brilliant view of the clan. Blue banners wavered gently in the breeze, its embroidered leaf symbols marking the Eastern Clan as a place for healing.
A scrape of bark and quick tap as it hit branches below was enough to hint at something amiss.
“Watch it!” Shy’s hawk cry came too late as Wisdom felt something pounce upon his back.
Talons clamped down on either side of him, keeping his wings from unfurling. It was a tactic he recognized with harpies, but was it a Black Wing that attacked? Beneath them, the branch groaned under the extra weight.
There came a high-pitched scream that rang through Wisdom’s head. In desperation, he rammed it against the thick trunk. Feathers stuck to the bark. Something sharp nipped at his neck, causing a yelp of pain.
Suddenly, Shy thwacked into its side, biting and clawing until its grip loosened.
Crack! The entire branch plummeted with the two toppling over limbs several feet below. Wisdom raked his claws down a trunk, ripping off pieces of bark in the process. He was finally able to catch a limb and stop his fall. Further down, he heard his attacker thrash against several branches.
The release of his harpy form allowed healing to commence. Leaves on the branch withered away to close his wounds. He was still healing when an enraged shriek drew his attention below.
“Lsahr’ken!” Its voice took on various throaty chirps and whistles. A clawed foot dug into the rough texture of the tree in attempts to climb back up.
Minds linked. It was brief, but gave enough reason behind its behavior. Wisdom inhaled sharply when the vision was over. It’s not a Black Wing, but it thinks I’m one! He peered down to catch it in the act of climbing – and nearly gagged. While its wings were still intact, all the feathers had been ripped completely off. The bare arm-like muscles flapped as if to take flight, but only upset its balance. Its face was a mass of cut marks. One eye was swollen shut. The other looked no better. It was blood-filled and oozing from each corner. Half its facial feathers were missing. So was a chunk of hair from the top of its head.
Like a snarling dog, the Wing pounced, only to catch Shy’s hawk form hurling into its side again. Talons swiped at thin air as it missed its landing mark. Limbs split under its weight when it fell back, followed by a loud thud against ground.
It called me ‘Black Wing,’ Wisdom let his mind open to his brother, who had followed the Wing’s descent.
Well, it’s raging mad like one! Shy landed beside the backyard wall. Shifting to his true form, he gestured for vines to ensure its body until there was little else it could do except shriek in frustration. We should end its suffering!
Wait! Wisdom dropped down. He landed hard. Pain seared up his legs as he caught his brother’s arm. From the corner of his eye, he could just make out Chanté and other clan members peering behind some of the backyard trees. Too curious to stay indoors, Wisdom knew he could not allow them to see such an act. “He’s only upset because of his condition. We can still heal him.”
“Only upset?” Shy narrowed his eyes. “Healing him would make matters worse! At full strength, those vines won’t be strong enough to hold. He could kill us both!”
Wisdom remained silent as he thought over his options.
“Are you willing to risk your life...for this?”
With laid back ears, Wisdom approached the bound creature. Exhaustion had closed its good eye. There was a slight quiver to its exhales, and the prince knew it was afraid.
“Be on your guard,” he whispered, and lifted a hand to request Nature’s healing energy. He directed where the life-force would drain from, and a tree in front of them answered. Leaves began to drop from above, curling as their energy spent. With each death, new life sprung into the ‘Keyarx. Each crimp of green extended a feather from a barren limb. By the time both wings were complete, the yard around the two was scattered with dry foliage.
Wisdom pushed his magic further, calling forth the ensnaring vines to offer their energies as well. Fine feathering mixed within returning hair. Scars upon the face retracted. Swelling went down, and both eyes opened to see clearly for the first time.
The process complete, Wisdom needed time to withdraw from Nature. The harpy, however, was on its feet far faster.
“Vistom!” Shy could not react fast enough, for a wing shot around and snapped Wisdom’s extended arm. The impact sent the prince staggering back into his brother’s protective grip.
“Vernam ‘dem!” the voice of Chanté joined the fray. He and others flew to the s
cene to keep their winged companion from attacking again. “He’s on your side!” Placing himself between ‘Ken and Healers, he puffed out his feathers in a sign of friendship before slowly drawing them back in.
The display of affection drew attention to its own wings. For the first time, it brought them around for inspection and quick preen. The wings themselves were a beautiful attraction. Though not as long, the feathers provided a full, round look. Cream underside faded to white as it extended from the body. Long, adjustable feathers closer in helped with flight patterns, and he tested this by quickly flicking them from side to side.
Facial feathers responded to his emotions, and he dropped his wings in a sign of defeat.
“I’m…so sorrrrry,” he spoke with a rounded accent. “I sot I’d neverrr fly again.” His gaze flicked to the wounded Healer attended by Shy. “I didn’t sink Healerrrs came dis farrr.”
Wisdom met the harpy’s gaze with a tired smile. He quickly flinched when his brother tried to move his arm.
“It’s broken,” he said.
“A minor setback.” Wisdom sighed. “Give it a couple of days—”
“You’re lucky to be alive!” Shy cut him off. “Then what? What am I supposed to do about the clan? About Chronicles!”
Wisdom lowered his eyebrows. Carefully clutching his arm, he stepped away while Chanté and others watched his expression sour.
“What about him?” the prince’s voice dropped in a low, throaty growl.
Catching himself, Shy simply shook his head. “Nothing. I’m just – you’re right. Give it a couple of days. It’ll heal.”
*****
From the shadows of overhanging boughs and thick foliage, Peter listened to the harpy scene unfold. He had staked out a spot where the back entrance to the clan could be seen. Still, he was able to detect movement through the flower gardens and trees just ahead of him. He heard the winged creature’s screams, drawing some of the servants away from the doorway. They left it open, diving into flight while a few others ran behind.
A yelp of pain.
The prince? Peter made a dash for the back door. Doesn’t matter. He deserves it! Every last one of them deserves it.
He jumped a narrow row of yellow flaxen, planted as a starting point into the garden. Fully seasoned roses grew around the base of the trees. The salmon colored petals were a nice touch to the ordinary red, though Peter was beyond admiration. He trampled a low bud just as quick and stepped up to the threshold.
While taking a peek behind him to be sure he had gone unnoticed, the slam of door nearly sent him diving for a hiding spot. A voice from inside, and Peter scrambled for some low-cut hedges alongside of the building. Digging his fingers into the soft earth, he slithered his way under until he was sure no one could see him.
Great. Peter grit his teeth and spit out some mud splattered across his lip.
Conversation from the garden drew near.
Peter reconsidered his options. Maybe I should wait. Stupid to try this in daylight, anyhow.
Between prickly leaves poking his sides now covered with dirt, he could just make out the prince alongside his servants. A thin smile spread as he noticed Wisdom holding his right arm.
Whatever that thing did, I wish it’d do more!
As soon as the click of door confirmed them all inside, Peter crawled out from under the bushes. He shook his mud-coated pants with a disgruntled look, then slunk back over to the trampled rose bud and yellow flaxen. He took his time, knowing the servants were more concerned for their prince’s well-being, and kicked some of the roses from their beds.
A tumbling branch startled him from above, and he jumped the row of flowers just as it hit ground. He glared at the spot, then up into the trees. A squirrel’s angry chatter soon followed.
“Stupid.” He ditched the garden for the comfort of shadowed forest. There, he could wait until dark before trying back again. I’ll have that mirror tonight!
*****
Wisdom held back a smile at the servants fussing over his broken arm. As news quickly spread to the other clans via Eclipse’s mental communication, it was not long before his parlor was filled with inquiring realm members. While Shy kept Glory occupied, he being red-faced after receiving a well-placed slap, the two drew part of the crowd away. Things only calmed down after Nickademis tromped in and ordered everyone out in a gruff voice.
“How do you expect him to heal with all this ruckus?” The doctor shooed some of the harpies out into the hallway. “Out! Give him room to breathe!”
The act reminded the prince of Mr. Phine in his usual respectful manner, and Wisdom wondered how the ship builder was fairing along the harbor.
Bet he could clear the room twice as fast, and not say anything! That caused a chuckle.
“Think this is funny?” Nickademis asked once the room was emptied of its last guest. “You’re lucky your head is still attached!”
“Only an accident.” Wisdom flinched when the doctor attempted to lift his right arm. A low growl slipped out with his ears laid back in wait for the pain to come.
“Hold still. It has to be set.” The doctor focused on his task. With nimble fingers, he felt along the arm. A quick snap set the bone back in place, but not without a tooth-gritting moan from the prince. Then the arm was gently swabbed with herbal ointment and wrapped tight. Its sweet aromas soon soothed back the sting, allowing the prince to relax into the cushioned chair while the doctor fashioned a sling over one shoulder.
“You know I’ll heal, Nick.”
“Not overnight, you won’t. And not if you don’t set it correctly.” Washing his hands in a bowl of water, Nickademis sighed. “So where is this new bird of yours?”
“With the others. Name’s Ertho, so I was told. He was being pursued by some masters from the north and flew into that storm. Thought it might stop them.”
Nickademis grunted. “Sure, it did. Who’d be foolish enough to follow?”
“Apparently, some Black Wings did.”
The doctor only shook his head. “Don’t know what the wait is, but I hope you know how to handle it when the time comes.”
Wisdom clenched his fist. The last time he had checked, the scar revealed a full circle. The time of Purification would be soon. Yet the details of it still remained to be seen.
“I should be good for now.” He carefully rose from his seat, laying his good hand over the sling to steady it while he crossed over to his adjoining bedroom. “Thank you for taking care of this.”
“You should rotate with new vegetation every few hours,” the doctor suggested as he packed up his things. “I’ll see to it the servants get what you need, and leave you to rest. You’ll need the strength to heal again.”
Wisdom could still hear the Mystic clan member carrying on with those lingering in the hallway even after his departure. Sure that he was offering suggestions on what not to do, Wisdom shifted his attention to the outdoors. He let the connecting parlor door shut and relished the solitude.
Opened balcony doors allowed a cool breeze to rustle the curtains around his canopied bed. It was not long before exhaustion swayed the prince to his rocker. Though he felt the need to sleep, the slight throb of his arm prompted an upright position.
Nonetheless, sleep found him.
It was late evening by the time he awoke. Gathering clouds quickly hid the remains of daylight. On the mantle, someone had lit a candle. Its flickering glow reflected off silver-capped dishes holding a warm meal. He took a whiff and recognized the smell of rosemary.
Irene, the kitchen is indeed your element. Slow-rising from his chair, he arched his back in a stretch before checking on dinner. He had just lifted the plate-cover to soak in its brilliant fragrance when the snap of breaking vines drew his attention to the balcony.
Wisdom stepped outside to hear quick footsteps tripping over foliage in attempts to flee. His focus was not as acute as he would have liked, and only managed to glimpse the backside of a figure slipping into the nearby woods.
>
“He would make any Black Wing parent proud,” the voice of Everest startled the prince, who turned to find her gracefully preening a few feathers.
“You know, for only having half wings, you get around.” Wisdom grinned. He jerked his thumb in the direction of the fleeing suspect. “I take it that was Peter?”
“Seems he’s taken quite an interest in your clan today.” Her hips swayed in a seductive manner as she came close. When she reached the wall, she looked out over the yard to the last location Peter was seen. “He must really want something.”
Wisdom patted his sling. “He must have heard about this.”
“Desperate move.” Folding her wings in a fade, she added, “I’ve been…delaying his progress throughout the day.”
A sigh. “I’ll have to warn the others to be on the lookout for him. The last thing I need right now is for the clans to think I’m not holding my agreement about the Schevolsky situation.”
“Speaking of agreements, what of ours?”
The prince shook his head. “Corrigan is alive and well, as far as I’ve been told. Abraham is learning magic now. From that, he may be able to break the spell holding your son.”
Everest cast her gaze elsewhere with a heavy sigh. “I won’t hold it against you should anything befall him. It was a reckless decision on Rusha’s part to let him join with a human magic-user!”
Wisdom did not try to make eye contact with the Black Wing mistress as she moved behind him. Instead, he tuned his ears to the rustle of her wings. When she made no other attempt at conversation, he stole a glance over his shoulder to find only deepening shadows of approaching night spreading across the balcony.
CHAPTER 3
“Enunciate!” Jenario repeated, as yet again another failed attempt at spell casting landed Abraham on his back against the far wall. Note paper and books scattered in ripped shreds of crinkled paper, some of the edges even singed.
Healer Page 12