by Hanna Peach
She can feel Daniel stiffen. “What are you talking about?”
“I thought I saw someone, heard someone. A seraphelle.”
Daniel spins Alyx around. His face is cool. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s just us, my promised.”
Alyx turns her head to look through the gap again. But the hedge has grown over. The gap is gone.
She looks back to him. “What’s through there?”
“Just more garden.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Why would I lie to you?”
“Why did you close the hedge over then?”
Daniel laughs and pushes a strand of hair from her face. She flinches against his touch.
“You are so unrelenting, my promised. Something I will have to get used to,” he says these words lightly but there is a hard set to his eyes. “Come,” and he pulls her from the hedge. Alyx doesn’t want to go. But she feels that it best that she does what he wants. For now.
As they float away Alyx thinks she hears someone laughing.
Low clouds are formed up to 6,500 feet up from the earth’s surface. The one upon which Alyx and her new friends are sitting upon is called stratus nebulosus, a uniform layer of thick fog-like cloud.
Daniel has taken Alyx a little way from the group. Terrentine and Angelo are setting up cloud surfing equipment. Desmona, an Animale, is directing a small flock of familia to their places at the front of the equipment. Constantine continues to ignore her.
Daniel strokes the back of a finger across her cheekbone. His touch is familiar like a lover. She tenses. Too familiar.
“You know,” he says, “you have the most beautiful green eyes of all the seraphelles I know.”
“I’m sure you have gazed into enough seraphelles’ eyes to say that definitively.”
Daniel’s flinches into a frown then his face softens. “You know,” he takes her hand in his and squeezes it, “we could be happy together, Alyx. You should consider it, really consider it before you write me off so quickly. I could make you happy.”
A small splinter of guilt digs into her. Should she give him a chance? Should she give this life a chance? Maybe she could be happy?
Alyx looks around at the other Castus. They are throwing cloud-balls at each other and squealing. Could she live this life? Wouldn’t this be a better life than fighting an eternal war with the Darkened? Could she be happy being an entwined Castus? A pretty bird in a pretty cage.
“Beside,” Daniel says, “the Elders say we are meant to be together and they are always right.”
They are always right.
Then it hits Alyx, a deep truth. Something she may have always known deep down but has never been brave enough to admit to herself.
This is what we’re taught.
The Elders are always right.
Obey the Elders.
Daniel sounds like a parrot. We all sound like parrots.
Her heart floods with a burning anger. What makes the Elders always right?
“Relax beautiful, lest your frown wrinkles your perfect face.” Daniel runs his thumb across her forehead.
Relax, lest your frown wrinkles your perfect face. Is this all that her life will be reduced to? Concerning herself with her appearance and skipping lectures and getting away with it because she is a Castus?
Alyx watches Avalon squeal with delight as Angelo dumps a whole handful of cloud on her and Constantine fusses over the ends of her long red hair and Desmona flirts shamelessly with Terrentine. Is this all that Alyx will expect of herself now?
“Oh my promised, I understand,” Daniel says.
He has been watching her. How much has her face revealed?
“You do?”
“Of course. You have spent so long as a lightwarrior that it feels strange now that you have been elevated to a Castus. Don’t worry you will get used to it and you will love it. After we are entwined you will never have to leave this place.”
Never have to leave this place. Her heart tightens. How can Daniel not see that this is a prison sentence?
He doesn’t understand. But how could he? As a Castus he has probably never felt the freedom of soaring away in open sky without the restriction of heavy guard and travelling wards.
“We shall share everything.” Daniel smiles and squeezes her hand. “Our hopes, our lives. Our secrets.”
Her secrets. After she is entwined she will be expected to share Daniel’s bed. How will she ever sneak out of Michaelea? What about her books? What about her blades, her beautiful blades?
“Something else troubles you, my promised. Tell me so that I may share your burden. Perhaps I can help?”
Alyx looks into Daniel’s face, warm, open. Trust me. Something holds her back.
They are interrupted by shouting.
“Alyxandria should go first as she has never been before.”
Alyx looks over. Desmona is floating with her arms out, like a human cross. Six birds of prey, eagles and falcons and a single hawk, are perched on her arms, three on each. Each bird has an Animale bracelet around its right leg. Desmona must be a powerful Animale if she is able to control six familias at once.
Each bird is secured to one of the many ropes that feed into one line. At the end of the line Angelo is holding a harness made of leather straps. Alyx doesn’t feel good about this.
Within minutes Alyx has been coaxed into the leather harness and tied in. She fingers the leather now wrapping her waist. This doesn’t seem like a good idea.
Desmona makes a calling sound with her throat. At once the birds take off from her arms. Alyx feels the sudden jolt forward. She has to lean backwards to keep herself from tumbling over. Daniel and Angelo are yelling out encouragement behind her, their voices fading as she is torn away from them.
Her feet push the thick misty clouds out of her way in a spray of white froth. Her feet slip a few times but she is able to keep herself righted as the birds move forward at a faster speed.
Alyx grips the harness, her knuckles going white. She hates this feeling. Uncontrollable. She resists but she is no match against the flock of large predator birds. She has no control. Panic starts to grip her, she tries to pull back harder. The birds continue to drag her through the air.
It’s okay, she assures herself. The familias will do their little loop and it’ll be over soon.
They dive, yanking her down with them. Her stomach drops. Her breath catches in her throat as she descends rapidly.
Alyx breaks through the bottom of the clouds. The peaks of the Michaelea mountain range loom before her. She calls out to the birds in front of her to stop. But of course they don’t understand her and they don’t slow down. Her panic grows as they continue to drag her through the air. They are out of control.
Alyx tries to fly in a different direction, hoping the birds will change their course. But they don’t. They are hurtling straight towards one of the mountains. Surely they will pull up.
They aren’t pulling up.
Alyx fumbles with the ties around her waist. She cries out in frustration when they don’t come undone. These are basic knots, this shouldn’t be so difficult to undo. Why aren’t they getting loose?
The cliff-face takes up her whole vision. She can make out the cracks and crevices, the small grasses that grow where they can. She looks at the knots again, twisting them around with her fingers. That’s why they aren’t undoing. The underside has been melted into a smooth lump.
She’s going to hit the cliff.
Alyx kicks her heels up, snatches her dijis from her boot, cuts the harness from the rope. The rope drops from her body. She halts herself in the air. The birds turn sharply up towards the sky just before they hit the cliff. The end of the rope slaps against the cliff face. That could have been her.
Alyx cuts the harness from her body and flings it off her.
Angelo glares at Alyx. “Now we can’t cloud surf until we get a new one made.”
“I thought the birds were going
to crash,” she replies. There is no remorse in her voice. She is suspicious of all of them. Surely those birds didn’t act out of their own accord. And who melted the knots?
Alyx stares at Constantine who is absent-mindedly fingering her long hair. Constantine wants Daniel for herself, this is obvious. But would she go so far as to try to hurt Alyx? Constantine is only an AirWhisperer. She would have needed help from a FireTwirler and an Animale.
Then Alyx remembers Daniel’s tattoo quill. Constantine could have used bloodink. Anyone could have.
She scans the faces of the Castus who have been acting as her friends. Her gaze finally stopping on Daniel.
Chapter 19
Late that night Symon’s flock are patrolling the streets of Saint Joseph, the part of Saint Joseph where mortals slide through shadows, hiding their faces behind raised collars as they slip into noisy dens fill with smoke and too much flesh.
Usually Symon and Alyx patrol side by side but tonight Alyx is so far in front of him he almost struggles to keep her in sight. There is something bothering her. But he knows her well enough to let her alone. If she needs him, she will come to him.
The wind picks up. They’re somewhere close, Symon thinks. I can smell them. To him they smell of old graves, ripe with moist earth, soured with age.
Up ahead Alyx rounds a corner out of sight. Symon presses his lips together. One day that girl will be the death of me.
Alyx’s skin courses with a familiar electricity. A discarded flyer flicks up around her heels before settling back down into the gutter and becoming part of the sludge.
The Darkened are close, she can feel it. She can feel life leaking out across the air. It feels dull and sharp and it hurts her teeth as if she has just bitten down on sheet metal.
Across the entrance to a small alleyway she can see the dim shadows of someone, or something, moving beyond the bullet-marked walls. Her ears pick up a muffled noise over the dull ache of bassy music coming from a nearby strip club. It sounds like a cry cut off. A woman’s cry.
Alyx snatches her soris from her hip, each muscle swelling with impatience, as she rounds the corner to the dark alley.
Four Darkened turn their faces towards her, their mortal masks stretched over their demon faces, grotesque and snarling, underneath.
One creature is pressing into a mortal woman against a wall, her tight red dress now bunched up around her hips, no underwear, and dirty bare feet, shoes lost somewhere in the muck. Her head lolls back, moaning, her life drawing away into the body of the demon that holds her. Bet this wasn’t the good time she envisioned when she dressed for the evening.
The other three Darkened hover close by clawing at her bare shoulders, no doubt waiting for their turn with her.
“Sorry dirt crawlers,” Alyx says tilting her body into a fighting stance, “this kitchen is closed for the evening.”
The four Darkened glance at each other. The one holding the woman appraises Alyx standing on her own, then throws back his head and laughs to the sky. His voice grates against her ears like crushing glass, “Kill the little sparrow-girl.”
The other three Darkened draw their demonswords. And surround her.
To Alyx the rest of the world fades. The growling resonance of faraway cars and the tantrum of the city fades. She can now hear the sound of small loose stones rolling underfoot of the creatures circling around her. She can hear all three of their breathing, can hear the slide of material rubbing against skin as they move.
Based on the sounds they make, she maps out the outline of the creatures around her in her mind.
There is a sudden shift of air behind her and the crack of weight shifting over gravel in front of her. Alyx whips her torso down and around in a low arc, evading the sword that whistles past her head. At the same time she kicks her legs out behind her, fluttering horizontally in the air like a deadly butterfly. She strikes the creature behind her in two places. A bruising hit and a sharp crack. She hears a shriek from him, muffled in her ears as if underwater.
Alyx spins mid-air out of her kick and lashes out her soris at the third Darkened, cutting him across his neck. He starts to fall.
The Darkened in front of her grips his demonsword with both hands. Starting low he sweeps his blade up towards her. Alyx spins again, out of his reach, keeping her eyes on his hands. His knuckles are white, the tendons are raised in his pale forearms. He is holding his sword too tightly and throwing too much force behind his swing. Fear makes you do that.
This Darkened fears her. This makes her smile.
As Alyx floats out of her spin she watches as the demon’s sword rises up towards the end of its arc. There, his side is exposed. She strikes out, her sword a snakes tongue. The tip enters the delicate flesh under his ribs and angles up towards his heart. A lovely angle. No resistance from rib-bones.
The creature drops his sword first, collapses to his knees, then the rest of him hits the ground. In the distance Alyx can see the fourth Darkened disappearing up a far building. The mortal woman, discarded, has slid down the wall to the ground.
Alyx turns to the Darkened behind her, still wailing on the ground, clutching his thigh, a shard of white bone protruding at a disconcerting angle from his torn pant leg.
“Oh hush you baby.” Alyx grabs a fist full of his hair. She yanks his face up towards hers so she can see the whites surrounding his mortal eyes and the yellows surrounding his red ones. “What does Adere mean to you?”
“W-what?”
Alyx rolls her eyes. Really not in the mood. She places one foot on the top of his injured thigh and pushes down, just a little. Just enough. A howl escapes from his lips.
“Adere,” she says. “Burn. What does Adere mean to you?”
“I don’t know,” he chokes out. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
Alyx pushes down again. Another wail tears into the sky.
“I don’t know. I swear.”
She glares at him and stomps down.
This time his scream is cut off. His figure slumps forward... off the end of Symons blade.
“That is enough, Alyx.”
Alyx kicks the flaccid body off her legs. “He knew something.”
“No, he didn’t. A thousand nights in Hell. What has gotten into you?”
“Nothing,” she mutters, turning back to the far wall.
“Hey...”
The fourth Darkened has disappeared.
“Look at me....”
How far has he gone?
“Look at me, damn you.” Symon grabs Alyx by the shoulders and forces her eyes to meet his. “What is this about?”
“I’m just trying to figure this out.”
“We’re all trying to figure this out. But we can’t turn into them while we do it.”
Alyx tries to shake him off her but he won’t release his grip. “You don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
Alyx bites her lip.
Symon’s voice lowers into a more placid timbre. “Understand what, Alyx?”
“I have to figure it out. It has to be me.”
“Why?”
“If I can just show...” her voice breaks, “if I can just show them how good a lightwarrior I am, how valuable―, maybe they will let me stay.”
“Alyx,” Symon’s voice softens. “I hate to lose you from my flock. But it is a safer life that Daniel and being a Castus will give you.”
“Maybe I can be both.”
“You know they won’t let you do that.”
“But, you chose to be a warrior over being Castus.”
“My situation was... different.”
“Which was...?”
“We aren’t talking about me Alyx. You may not see it now, but this is an incredible opportunity for a safe life for you. You should be happy.”
I should be happy. I should. So why aren’t I? What’s wrong with me?
Chapter 20
In the early hours of the morning after patrole Alyx and Xavier sit high up on one
of the rocky ledges of a mountain near Michaelea. They can’t see the city from here.
Alyx has been watching the horizon beyond, dusty with artificial lights from Saint Joseph. He is out there somewhere. Him.
“Alyx?” Fingers wave in front of her face.
“Sorry, what?”
“I was just saying, Elysia will get over it.”
“You think?”
“She’s just upset that you’ll be leaving the flock once you’re entwined. She’s scared you won’t want to be friends with us anymore.”
“So she’s ignoring me?” Alyx says, incredulous at the sheer illogic of it.
Xavier shrugs. “Women, you can’t―.”
But she doesn’t get to hear the rest of his sentence. She feels her body tumble as if she is being pulled forward. Her stomach lurches.
Everything turns dark.
He found her trolling a street corner of Tarragon Alley, a red light district of Saint Joseph. She pretended to be a good time girl, he pretended to be looking for one. He had followed her to this dark empty alley squeezed between a mess of gin and flesh halls.
She is proving harder to kill than the last one.
The she-demon ducks out of the reach of his knife. The face underneath her human facade is green and grotesque as they all are. Her thick scaly tongue lolls out of sharp lips and sharper teeth, pointed like pine needles.
He swings at her again with his knife. She blocks him then lashes back with her dagger. He cries out when the edge of her blade bites into his forearm. Just a slice but the blood starts to ooze.
She begins to hiss to herself with pleasure. “Oh I do like it when they fight back. It makes killing them all the more fun.”
She lunges for him.
As Xavier’s face comes into view the pain in Alyx’s arm subsides. No, not her pain. It isn’t her arm that’s hurt.
“He’s hurt,” it tumbles from her mouth.
“Who’s hurt?”
“I had another vision. I have to...” She has to, what?
Protect him.