Mend the Flesh (The Phoenix Series Book 3)

by Sarah Rockwood

  The shadow that followed me was huge, the wingspan easily double my own and the body of the bird, it had to be a bird, twice my size. It was hunting me. I knew it in my bones. If I didn't get out of there quick I was going to be a meal for this monstrous thing.

  I had to get back to the portal. You do know about portals right?" He paused and looked at me.

  "Yes! Please, continue!" I said back in a hushed tone.

  "Had to ask. Right, we can fly through the tunnels and find portals in the air, but you still gotta find a portal in the first place. And the portal I needed was up much higher than where I was now. So I went into a dive hoping to draw the bird out and then lose it on the rise. I figured anything that big would have a pretty hard time making altitude quickly. So I took a deep breath and moved to dive.

  The bird was on to me though, and much closer than I had realised. I went into the dive and looked back over my shoulder to see if the bird was following. It was enormous. Just bloody huge, the body of the bird was taller than me and twice as wide. It had these thick stubby legs with giant clawed feet, and when I turned to look at it, it dropped into attack mode. It stretched its wings back and stuck out its talons. It was dropping fast, and it was ready to catch me.

  I had no time to think; I went on instinct. I pulled out of the decent and flapped my wings, I think I was trying to get out of the way of the bird, but I'd underestimated its wingspan. I moved left and was struck by the bird's wing. It was like being hit by a feather covered tree. It knocked the wind out of me, and I struggled to breathe as I dropped like a stone towards the ground.

  As I tumbled, I felt the great bird's talons pierce the flesh of my arm as it gripped my bicep. It let out a sharp cry, sure it had caught me. But we were too close to the ground for the great beast to stop itself and we crashed through the trees, tangled together. I have no idea how I managed to get my lungs working again, but I did and it brought the sense back to me. As we crashed through the trees I reached up with my free hand and drove my fist into the belly of the beast. I knew the punch alone wouldn't hurt the bird. So I grabbed onto the short feathers that covered its gut and pulled myself in closer. I heard a tearing sound as I did this and looked down to see the flesh of my caught arm splayed open. I ignored that as best I could and called on my power. A blast of white lightning shot from heart down my arm and into the bird.

  It screamed and released me just as we hit the ground. I had the body of the bird to cushion my fall, and with adrenaline and power running through me, I tried to make my escape. I ran for it, but I was getting weak from blood loss, and I stumbled. That quick stumble was enough time for the bird to right itself and start after me. I knew I had no other choice but to stand and fight the fucking thing.

  I looked around for a weapon, and all I could see was a large rock at my feet. There was no time to pull down a branch or fashion something sharp. So I picked up that rock with my good arm, charged it with power until it glowed bright blue, then braced myself for the attack.

  The bird came at me hard, but I was ready. Rather than be knocked down by its weight, I took the impact into me and held on to the bird's torso. I was too close to its body to be batted by its wings, but it still had that massive beak and it started pecking at my head and shoulders. White light flashed before my eyes and I could taste blood in my mouth. Using a combo of legs and my bloody arm, I crawled up the body of the beast, all the while its beak pecking at me. I buried my head in the beast's neck to protect myself and then I started pounding on the bird's skull with my rock. Just pounding as hard as I could. It screamed and ripped a long gash down my back with its beak. It was running in circles now, trying to throw me off, but I knew if it did I was going to be bird seed, so I kept bashing that rock into its skull and it kept running.

  My injured arm was starting to go numb and the flashes of blackness were coming closer together; I didn't have much time left, I was pretty sure I was going to die. And I swear, as soon as that hit me, the moment I knew this would be my last fight, a great warmth started to grow in my belly. At first I thought it was the warmth of death coming for me, but the warm turned to hot, burning hot, and then it started to move through my limbs. It ran down my arms and legs, the rock in my hand freaking started to melt and without thinking, almost like I was in slow motion, I reached up and smeared it across the bird's cheek.

  It screamed a horrible sound, just horrible, like a chainsaw and a blender had a baby and then used it to puree cats, just freaking horrible. It was as the bird's scream crested that the heat in me seemed to double and light blue flames erupted from my torso. The bird started to panic then and, as the flames began to move down my arms and legs, it took to the sky.

  It was almost impossible for the beast; big wings are hard to flap so low to the ground, but it was now as close to death as I was. We rocked and bucked as we ascended, all the while the great bird was trying to throw me off, but if I was going down I was taking it with me. When we reached the sky, warm winds fanned my flames and soon the bird and I were both covered in blue fire. I could smell our feathers burning. The heat inside me was unbearable; I pulled my head from the bird's neck and looked at my body. My clothes had burned away and under the blue flames my skin was covered in blisters. I looked like I was cooking from the inside out.

  The bird knew we were going to die soon, and with the last burst of energy, it flapped higher and then went into a spiral dive trying to throw me off. I could see the ground coming closer, and I could feel the heat inside me ready to blow. So I let go. I let go of everything.

  The last thing I remembered was a bright flash of blue and then nothing."

  Royal stared into the fire.

  "Then what happened?" I whispered.

  "I woke up here."

  "Seriously?"

  "Well, not right here, just over the hill where the portal is. My best guess is that when I went boom, the bird was blown off and I had the good fortune to fall directly through the portal."

  "But you must have been a skeleton when you landed?"

  "Pretty much, still had a bit of meat on me though, woke up to a couple of buzzards picking at me."

  "That's gross."

  "It was." Royal laughed.

  "But how did you get back here? I could barely move those first few days. And how did you take care of yourself?"

  "Oh, I had help."

  "You did?" He was silent. "Who?"

  "Cheryl." He stared at the fire.

  "Who's Cheryl?"

  "My wife." He didn't offer any more information, and since Cheryl obviously wasn't living here now, I didn't press it. We sat in silence for a few more minutes.

  "And the second time?" I asked.

  "Huh?" Royal seemed to be coming back from somewhere far away.

  "The second time you burned, what happened then?"

  "Oh, that." He took a swig of his drink and placed the empty cup on the floor. "Well, Cheryl died."

  And then he stood up and walked out into the moonlight.

  3

  I watched him go. I didn't try to stop him. Some pains are private, and no matter how often you talk about them or how much time has passed, they never go away. The death of Royal's wife was one of those things. But it also got me thinking, how did he get a wife? Why didn't the role of wife have some strange Traveller name or something? Royal, despite his wings, felt the most human of any Traveller I'd met. Maybe he'd spent a lot of time with humans and picked up some stuff.

  I threw a few more logs on the fire so it would still be burning when Royal returned. He didn't need the light to guide him, he knew this land like the back of his hand, but the light of the fire would be welcoming.

  My room had two large openings, which Royal affectionately called windows, but without glass, they were indeed just big holes in the wall. Sure they had shutters, but thin slats of wood weren't going to stop any desert creepy-crawlies from getting inside. The shutters were open, and moonlight poured through making lighting some candles unnecessary. Th
ere was a simple bed up against the back wall just outside the circle of light, and a door beside it led to a bathroom and closet. The best feature of the room was the bathtub. It was a clawfoot number, large enough for me and my wings, and sat directly in the circle of moonlight that spilt through the window.

  I turned the single tap, cold water, if you wanted hot, you had to heat it yourself. As the tub filled, I went over to the full-length mirror Royal had propped against one wall and began the delicate process of unwrapping myself. I went through this every night, and although I could see some progress in my condition, it still took an effort not to gag at my reflection.

  I had more flesh now, which was great, but sometimes the wrappings stuck to my new raw patches, which meant a slow wiggle-tear process to release them. My skull was completely covered in a thin layer of new flesh. I had eyelids now, and you couldn't see the food in my mouth when I chewed. Royal was very happy about that. My ribcage was thickening up, just a faint shadow of my lungs and heart remained. And my arms and legs were just starting to flesh out. Little strips of beef carpaccio stretched from shoulder to elbow and hip to knee. But nothing had skin on it; I guess that would come later. I looked like some sort of moving anatomical diagram designed to display the muscular system. It was a huge improvement from where I'd started, but all the raw flesh made me look more disgusting than I had when I was just bone and burned bits of skin. Yep, I looked gross, horror movie gross.

  My wings were still nothing but twigs. They hadn't made any progress at all. I flexed the twiggy bones in the mirror, they moved like rusty hinges.

  "Oil can," I mumbled to the darkness.

  The tub was just about full, so I began focusing my power to warm it. It didn't take much to heat the water, but I was still fragile, and most of my energy was going to healing. The sound of running water calmed me; I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I reached deep into myself and called forth my power. I could see it, in my belly, dark and cold, a tiny flame working so hard against the darkness. I called to it, coaxed it forward, and soon it was a warm glow I could hold in my hands. The orb of power pulsated between my palms. Not the huge blast of power I had once created, but stronger than the day before. I plunged my hands into the water, and the ball of energy spread out into the liquid. Soon little trails of steam floated from the surface in the cool desert night. I turned off the tap and gently stepped into the water.

  The water was the perfect temperature, but my limbs were still stiff and raw; it took a lot of deep breaths to step into the tub. My feet felt strange on its ceramic bottom. I could feel each toe as it touched the hard surface; it felt like drumming your fingernails on a tabletop. There wasn't enough flesh on my feet to give me traction, so I had to grip the sides of the tub hard to keep from completely falling into the water. I'd learned from my previous attempts at bathing and already had fluffy towels draped over the sides of the tub for my hands to hold as I braced myself. Much like my feet, raw tendon fingers couldn't do much against the smooth ceramic sides of the tub. Without the towels for gripping, I'd be flat on my ass and in a lot of pain. Royal had already had to rescue me a couple of times. Being picked up off the floor feels way more embarrassing when you have no skin. So with beef jerky legs and sinewy hands, I lowered myself into the water, slowly. My nerves were raw, literally and figuratively, and everywhere the water touched sang out.

  Finally submerged, I sat back against the tub and let myself relax into the water. Royal said the baths would help keep the new flesh soft and he was right, but it was an exercise in perseverance to look at my broken body as I did it. I was grateful the moonlight was reflecting off the surface enough to hide the raw flesh from my eyes. I had painstakingly shifted the tub into a position where the moon would strike it and had to move it every few days to keep it in the moonlight. I feared the upcoming days of no moon; how would I keep from looking at my strange body then?

  My wing stubs, as I affectionately called them since they'd been cut down in size, wiggled tentatively in the water. It was the first time they'd moved on their own since the Burning and I sat bolt upright, sloshing water over the sides of the tub.

  "Holy crap!" I exclaimed. "Are you guys back?"

  In response to my question, the wings wiggled again.

  Yes, my wings answer questions, and yes, my wings are a part of my body, and yes, that makes no sense. But we'd spent so long apart that they had developed an energy of their own. When we joined forces again, they kept some of that power. It was like having symbiotic twins attached to your back. We shared everything, but they still had an element of autonomy.

  My wings wiggled again, but the movement was less smooth this time, jerky and a little stiff.

  "Right, back in the water."

  I slipped back into the water, going deep enough for it to be brushing my chin. I held myself away from the ceramic, so the wings could get a bit more movement if they so desired. And desire they did.

  The wings started to open and close, slowly, like we were high in the air and soaring amongst the clouds. It felt so good to experience that sensation again. I could almost feel their full glory again, and I smiled, genuinely smiled, from my heart, for the first time since the Burning. With the moonlight pouring down on me, I closed my eyes and stretched out in the water, remembering the feeling of flight.

  With my eyes closed I felt transported, not in a vision like my wings had done before, they weren't powerful enough yet to do that, but I could see the glimmer of our past life. Like a grainy home movie being played on a sheet in the backyard, the images of our flight played out in my mind. We were soaring through the Void. The land was grey and undulating below us; the ice cold rivers were black lines cutting through the soft rises of the earth. Everywhere I looked the sky was grey, one uniform shade of grey everywhere. Distance, time, they had no meaning here. I was in love. In love with my home world, with its stark beauty. Its ability to disturb and embrace me. This was home, not my comfortable house in the forest; this was my place of origin, my homeland. This was where I grew my power. This was my land, and it called to me just as my wings did. It called to me through space and time as I lay in my bath with my wing stubs wiggling, and through the vision told me I was never alone. I would always have the Void.

  The vision broke, and I found myself standing in the bathtub, my wings calm at my back and the light from the moon fading from my flesh as it travelled across the sky. I could feel my feet against the tub; they seemed fuller, more secure. I looked down at myself and saw a shiny new layer of muscle over my bones. I smiled, and it didn't hurt. I touched my face and realised not only were my fingers more whole, but my lips were fuller, they covered all of my teeth. I let my hands fall to my side and took a deep breath. I stepped out of the tub, no need to grip the sides, and walked to the mirror. In the fading light of the moon, I turned my back to see my wings. Though still only bones and bits of muscle, they had grown. New bone protruded from the end of each wing.

  4

  The next morning I wrapped my newly formed muscles and sinew slowly, carefully inspecting the new bits of meat that now clung to my bones as I draped myself in a sand-coloured fabric. I had more flesh on the soles of my feet, which was awesome. Maybe now I could venture out of the house during the day. Even with shoes on, the hot desert sand had felt like hell on my bony feet. I wrapped my wings last; they were the fiddliest part of the process and required a lot of time in the mirror. Even though my body was healing, it was still hard to look at my raw form in the glass. Being fully covered made doing my wings more bearable. Another plus from last night's moon bath was more flesh on my fingers; they almost moved normally. Maybe one day they could handle an actual button! What can I say, I'm a dreamer.

  Once my wings were wrapped, I picked my gloves up off the nightstand and tucked them into a swirl of cloth. Unless I went outside, I wanted my hands free.

  The final step of the whole wrapping process was the headpiece. Royal and I had experimented with a bunch of different wrappi
ng techniques, most of which left me looking like the invisible man. I finally had gotten so frustrated that I ripped the whole thing off, which hurt quite a bit and I regretted later. Big time. Ever had a chapped lip split open? Imagine that all over your face. Yep.

  We settled on a loose hood that wrapped around my neck and could be pulled up and over to cover my face if necessary. Royal didn't seem very squeamish about how I looked, and I couldn't see my face as I went about my day, so I left the hood down for the most part.

  Standing in front of the mirror in my full fabric glory, I sighed. I had come a long way; I was healing, but even wrapped my frailty was evident. There simply was no meat to me; I was ultimately still a skeleton, now a fashionably clothed skeleton, but a skeleton all the same. And my face, my terrible face. High cheekbones look great when you've got skin, but when you're strips of bacon, they look pretty aggressive. It was super depressing. I pulled up my hood and slipped on the gloves, then went to see what Royal was up to.

  Royal was up to the usual, making me a giant breakfast and girding his loins for the inevitable battle to make me eat it.

  "Morning," he said as he placed a large bowl of oatmeal and three fried eggs on the counter.

  "Good morning," I mumbled as I sat down and grabbed my spoon. I tucked into the oatmeal without argument.

  "Hey, are you okay?" Royal stood before me, his hands resting on the counter, his bright blue eyes searching mine. I didn't have the energy to lie.

  "Not really," I took a bite of egg. "I thought I'd made real progress last night, but this morning I looked like just another skeleton." I paused, stuffed more egg in my mouth. "I do have more meat on my feet, so that's something."

  "You will get better," he said softly.

  "I know." I smiled at him, my new lips stretching slightly. "I honestly do know that. Some days are just easier than others." I ate another mouthful of oatmeal. Royal smiled.