Up in the Air

by Ann Marie Meyers

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” Sean yells.

  “What’s your problem?” I shout back.

  “Shut up!”

  I zombie him and he looks away fast.

  Another, much taller unicorn enters the clearing. Its coat and wings are silver, with white streaks along its sides.

  “Ah ha!” Sean rushes over to it.

  The unicorn lays its ears back, rearing its head, and Sean stops in his tracks. Serves him right. I’m going to pat it; that will show him.

  A loud squeal rings out and I spin around. A baby unicorn is caught between some roots. The poor thing is a dirty white, with a brown patch on its chin, and ears that flop over. The mother nudges him, but his leg doesn’t budge. I approach slowly. The little unicorn sees me and whinnies.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” I look at the mother. “I’ll help him if you let me.”

  She doesn’t move.

  I take a few more steps. The baby neighs and tries, once again, to get free.

  “You’ll only hurt yourself,” I tell him. “Stop.”

  Sean sniggers. “Like the dumb animal understands you.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Maybe it’ll kick you and give you some more bruises.”

  The mother unicorn bares her teeth and snaps at Sean. He yelps and runs away. I grin. Sean doesn’t say a word after that.

  I kneel down. The mother’s eyes are on me. They’re brown. And gentle. She bobs her head twice. I take that as a “yes.” If I’m wrong, she just might give me more bruises to add to my collection, like Sean said.

  With one hand, I tug at the top root. With the other, I pull back on the lower one. “You’re free, little guy.”

  With a happy snort, the young unicorn slips its leg loose and gambols over to his mother. I’m about to get up when my thumb brushes against something hard, a ring jutting out from beneath the lower root. It’s sky-blue. I pick it up. In the center is a deep blue square stone with the engraving of a unicorn. And on the sides are small figures of people dancing. First a woman, then a man, then both of them doing the waltz, just like Mom and Dad used to. The pattern repeats around the ring.

  Goosebumps break out over my body. This is a sign, I just know it. It means Dad will get better and my parents will dance again. I slip the ring on my middle finger. It’s a perfect fit, which proves I’m right. This ring is a symbol that Dad’s legs will heal.

  I will never take it off.

  Sara is talking to someone on her earphones, so I twirl my ring on my finger and wait. Sean stomps over to his guide and yells something I can’t make out. Poor Timothy. I bet he didn’t know he’d be stuck with such a loser.

  “Congratulations.” Sara points to my ring. “You solved the first clue.”

  “This was the clue? Not the unicorns?”

  “They both were.” Sara smiles. “The unicorn led you to the ring.”

  “Can I keep it?”

  “For as long as you choose.”

  “Forever, of course.” I reach into my pocket to touch the jewel Patrick O’Hara gave me. This jewel will heal Dad because Chimeroan is a place where dreams come true. All dreams.

  Sean rushes over. “Not fair. I got here first. That ring is mine.”

  A muscle pulses near Timothy’s left eye. “Melody found the ring, so it belongs to her.”

  Sean’s face is deep red with anger. I’m afraid he’ll grab my ring from me so I shove my hands behind my back. To my surprise, his shoulders sag.

  “I haven’t solved the clue, have I, Timothy?” he says. “There’s still something I need to find, like Melody, isn’t there?” He stares at the unicorns. “Why don’t they like me? All I wanted was to pet them.” A tear trickles out the corner of his left eye.

  Despite how mean he’s been to me, I feel sorry for him. It’ll be night soon, and he won’t have found what he’s supposed to. Sara and Timothy glance at each other but don’t say a word.

  The silver unicorn takes several steps toward Sean. Sean doesn’t move, but his wings fan out, feathers rustling as if caught in a windstorm.

  “Do you think it wants to be friends now?” he asks.

  I shrug. Timothy and Sara just watch him.

  Sean bites his lips and looks up. I follow his gaze and feel even sorrier for him when I notice through the gaps in the branches how dark the sky is, how dull the streaks of orange and yellow are.

  “The worst it can do is bite me, right?” Sean sucks in his cheeks and takes baby steps toward the unicorn. Its ears go back. Sean stops, looks up at the sky again, takes a deep breath, then a step, and another. The unicorn lowers its head and snorts. Sean’s arm trembles as he reaches up and strokes its neck. “Hey!” He holds something up. “A watch. And it’s real gold.”

  The watch has a beautiful thick band, but I wouldn’t trade my ring for all the gold watches in the world.

  Sean touches the unicorn’s nose. “Thank you.”

  As soon as he says those words, darkness descends. The unicorns lift their heads to the sky and neigh. Their voices blend together in a joyful, harmonious tune. They’re singing!

  With one final note, the unicorns spread their wings and fly away.

  15

  Jibber Jabbers

  As soon as the last unicorn disappears from sight, Sara says she’s made arrangements for us to sleep over at a nearby flier outpost.

  “Do you remember Vivian mentioning that two of the younger Guided chose to return home?” she asks. “Well, their guides, Kaytrina and Glenn, decided to spend some time on Chimeroan. They’re at the outpost and have a hot meal waiting for us.”

  My stomach rumbles. I’ve been so nervous all day, I forgot about food. The sandwiches I took for lunch are still in my knapsack.

  “Tap twice on the left button of your earphones so we can talk to each other while in the air,” Timothy says.

  I use my little finger, careful not to accidentally touch the red emergency button.

  Once in the air, I realize within minutes that I don’t like flying at night. Maybe if it were brighter outside, it wouldn’t be so bad. But the quarter moon doesn’t provide much light. Sara and the others appear as shapeless blobs, stalking me. Our shadows darken the gloomy murkiness of the treetops a short distance below. Anything can fly out of there and we won’t notice until it’s too late.

  When lights appear in the distance, I reach for them. If only I could pull them to me. Now!

  “That’s the flier outpost,” Sara says. “It’s on a hill.”

  I let out my pent-up breath. Not much farther, Melody. Hold on. Soon, I make out a large, sprawling building which reminds me of a farmhouse I saw in one of Mom’s magazines.

  The two fliers wait for us on the porch. Glenn has white wings, and Kaytrina has a blue pair like mine, with black triangles. They greet us with wide smiles, but lines mark their foreheads. Their eyes keep glancing back to the forest.

  Something is wrong.

  Introductions over, Glenn pulls Sara and Timothy aside.

  “So, how was your first day?” Kaytrina asks Sean and me.

  Sean shows her his watch and starts talking about how he went deep sea diving, but couldn’t stay longer because he wouldn’t have reached the unicorns in time. I mumble that I need to go to the bathroom and back away, moving closer to the others.

  Glenn is speaking. “. . . and we spotted a Jibber Jabber witch coven on the borders of the forest. When I got your call that you were coming, we suspected one of your Guided might be responsible.”

  “It could be Sean,” Timothy says. “He won’t tell me what’s bothering him.”

  “It could also be Melody,” Sara says. “Snakes aren’t the only things that terrify her. Her body is covered in bruises. I’m certain some are self-inflicted, though she denies it. And today we ran into hoarders who stole a leprechaun’s gold. Would you believe the leprechaun gave Melody a jewel?”

  I’m eavesdropping again. Tough! I’m too mad to care. How dare Sara bad-mouth m
e a second time? I told her the truth about my bruises and she believes I’m deliberately hurting myself. What’s her problem? My wings hum: Dum dum dum dum. I dismiss their soothing tone and march over to Sara.

  “Is this what you mean by trust?” I yell.

  Sara looks surprised, not upset or embarrassed that I heard what she said. And this makes me madder.

  “You say you’re my guide, then sneak behind my back and tell everyone I’m afraid of snakes. And didn’t I explain I’m accident prone? That’s the last time I tell you anything.”

  “Come on, Sean,” Timothy says. “Dinner’s ready, isn’t that right, Glenn?”

  “Ready and waiting,” Glenn says.

  The others rush inside. I stomp away from Sara to the opposite side of the porch and cross my arms.

  Sara’s footsteps approach from behind. “I’m sorry you eavesdropped,” she says.

  I need several deep breaths before I can face her. “You were talking about me behind my back. Again.”

  “Guides discuss the events of the day. It’s important because it gives us a perspective on how our Guided are doing and on what we might expect.”

  “My mom’s right. It’s best not to trust anyone.”

  “Your mom is wrong. Trust is everything.”

  I can’t believe I spoke out loud. Why is it that here on Chimeroan I blurt things out? I never have this problem back home. My wings are dead quiet, Sara’s too, and neither pair moves despite the strong breeze knocking into us.

  “Chimeroan helps us find out about ourselves, especially those parts we hide from,” Sara says.

  I press my lips together. I should never have deluded myself that my guide liked me. I’m over that now.

  Sara sighs. “Look, it’s been a long day and we’re both tired. I promise I will keep whatever you tell me a secret between us in the future.”

  She looks upset, but I don’t move a muscle even though my nose itches like crazy.

  “Let’s go in and eat. We can talk after dinner if you like, and if not, that’s fine, too. And don’t worry about the witches. Even though they belong to one of the most evil covens on Chimeroan, the elves can handle them.” Sara takes my arm.

  “Don’t touch me.” I slap her hand away so hard, my fingers sting. “Don’t talk to me ever again. Got that?” I don’t care who hears. I don’t care what I say. Or that I might be overreacting. Right now, I don’t care about anyone or anything. Or that Sara looks like she wants to cry. Or that her wings cradle her shoulders like they’re hugging her. Or that mine start flapping frantically. There’s a hint of roses in the air, and for the first time ever, I hate that smell.

  Horns blaring, Daddy yelling, rain beating against the windows, CRASH!

  “STOP!” I scream, covering my ears. I close my eyes and picture a black hole, getting larger and larger. Nothing happens.

  “Melody, get back in your booster!”

  The black hole fills my mind.

  CRASH!

  The next thing I know, I’m in Sara’s arms, crying in a way that I haven’t since the accident.

  16

  Sean’s Secret

  My wings envelop me in the smell of roses and I get this intense desire to tell Sara about the accident. I have the impression she’ll understand, but I fight the urge and cling to her until my tears run dry. The rose smell fades and memories of the accident once again slip into wisps of vague images.

  I feel drained. Sara pulls several tissues from her pocket and wipes the tears off my face. Embarrassed, I hurry inside the house ahead of her.

  Over dinner, the others act as if nothing unusual happened; except for Sean, who peeks at me when he thinks I’m not looking.

  “Did you enjoy your casserole?” Kaytrina asks. “It’s made from the seeds and berries in the forest.”

  I nod and point to my empty plate. The meal was delicious, like a fruit salad with nuts and pasta.

  “Melody, can I see the leprechaun jewel Sara told me about?” Timothy asks.

  I pull the jewel out of my pocket and finish my lemonade as it passes from hand to hand. I’m kind of proud they’re admiring it so much.

  “This is cold,” Sean says.

  “Is not. It’s warm.” I snatch my jewel away, then feel bad. I hate getting angry at him all the time.

  “The jewel is a gift to Melody, so it will be cold for everyone but her,” Timothy says. “She is the only person who can feel its warmth, the magic that it contains, since it belongs to her.”

  My wings hum with pride.

  Glenn leans back in his chair and folds his arms. “I’ve never met hoarders, though I’ve heard about them.”

  “They’re a ball of fun.” I try to sound like it’s no big deal, but my voice wobbles, so I keep quiet after that.

  “The Dlikerites checked in to report that the Jibber Jabber witches have settled in for the night and are cackling around a huge fire,” Kaytrina says. “They’re not sure if the witches are up to something, so they’ll keep an eye on them until they leave this area.”

  “Who are Dlikerites?” Sean asks.

  “Elves,” Timothy says. “One of the six clans.”

  I can’t help but think of Andrew; how I thought I’d seen him as an elf.

  Sean leans forward in his chair, eyes gleaming. “I want to meet them. Do you think I will, Timothy? No, don’t bother to answer. You have no idea, right?” His lips curl back in a sneer.

  “That’s right,” Timothy says, with a tight smile.

  I grin. Serves Sean right.

  Once we clear the table, Kaytrina and Sara go into the kitchen to wash the dishes. Then, to my horror, Glenn and Timothy head outside to talk, leaving me alone with Sean.

  “Were you scared of the hoarders?” Sean asks.

  I frown. “None of your business. Where are the bedrooms? I’m tired.”

  “I’m . . . Look, I’m sorry for what I said about your bruises, all right? I-I didn’t mean it.”

  “Then why say it?” Where are the bedrooms?

  “Things sort of pop out of my mouth sometimes.”

  “Things?”

  Sean blushes. “All right, mean words. I . . .” He drums the table with his fingers, just like Dad does after a good meal. “I’m sorry.”

  My wings hum softly and send me the sharp tangy scent of some flower I don’t know. I think Sean wants to be friends, but that’s never going to happen. Friends ask too many questions.

  “What will you use the magic jewel for?” he asks after a while.

  I look him in the eyes. “To wish for lots of gold and coins.”

  Sean flushes. “Want to trade? My watch for the jewel?”

  “Never.” I zombie him.

  Sean flinches but doesn’t turn away. “That is the ugliest face. Why do you do it?”

  “So people won’t bother me.”

  Sean frowns and twists his mouth while trying to cross his eyes. Is he trying to imitate me? Well, he looks like a bullfrog with a bad toothache. And in need of glasses.

  I open my mouth to tell him exactly what I think, but burst out laughing. “You look funny.”

  He gives me a big grin. No way. I hadn’t noticed the braces before. He’ll have to keep them in for years to straighten out his teeth.

  “So, are we okay?” he asks.

  I don’t answer for a while, surprised I’m no longer annoyed with him. “I guess.”

  “Cool.” And he starts whistling.

  “What’s that tune?”

  “Nothing special, just something I made up, that’s all.”

  “You make up songs?”

  He scowls. “Yeah, so what?”

  “Nothing. It’s just, I think it’s cool.”

  “Seriously?” Sean’s face turns pink.

  “Yes. My dad makes up stuff, too. Do you plan to be a musician?”

  Sean shrugs. “My father won’t let me. He wants me to be a lawyer so I can earn tons of money.”

  “I don’t like lawyers.”

&nb
sp; “Why?”

  “They lie.” The lawyer of the family whose car Dad crashed into accused him of negligent driving. He tried to have Dad put in jail.

  Sean’s feathers flutter and he frowns. “My father is one of the greatest lawyers in the world. He doesn’t lie.”

  “I bet you he does.” I bite my lip. I really didn’t mean to say that. I kind of like Sean now.

  But he doesn’t get angry. He tilts his head as if he’s listening to something, but all I hear is the noise his wing feathers make. I’m about to ask if he knows why they’re acting up like that when Sean pushes his chair back and stands. His frown is gone. He stares out the window, but I have the impression he’s not seeing anything.

  “You know what?” he says after a long silence. “You’re right. Lawyers lie; well, some of them anyway. And you know what else?” Sean grins so wide, his teeth look like they’re in a boxing match. “I’m not going to become a lawyer after all. My dad will go bonkers, but I don’t care.”

  The muscles around his mouth are relaxed. His shoulders no longer slump. He looks happy. What happened to make him change like that?

  “Guess what?” Sean says. “I found out the name of my wings: Sledgehammer.”

  “You just thought of that?” I keep on forgetting to name mine.

  “Not really. Sledgehammer told me. Strange, hmm?”

  “You mean your wings said, ‘My name is Sledgehammer?’”

  “No. When they were making all that fuss just now, I heard music. And then I thought of a sledgehammer. Doesn’t make sense. It just feels right.”

  Is that what happens? Wings tell Guided their names? Is that how Jackson and Claudine found out? So why haven’t mine told me yet? They send me flower smells all the time, and hum when I’m going in the right direction, but no names. So what’s wrong with me?

  “You know what’s funny,” Sean says. “I’ve always been afraid my dad would hate me if he found out I didn’t want to be a lawyer like him. But my grandpa wanted my dad to become a doctor. They didn’t speak for years. But now they do. I guess one day Dad will forgive me, don’t you think?”

  If I answer, I’ll have to say I have no idea what his dad will do. Or I could lie. But I don’t want to lie, so I keep quiet.