Blood and wings

by J Wells

  “Yes, but then it was you who backed away.”

  “Rose, we’re going round in circles. You know why I stopped.”

  “Yes, I know it was Jai’s birthday. Maybe if you’d been spontaneous at the time, things could have worked out differently between us, but now I guess we’ll never know.”

  “The rules you make are all to suit you, but life doesn’t work like that.”

  I can see the despondence in his eyes. I take a sip and swallow; the champagne has lost its fizz and sweetness, so moving the glass from my mouth I place its stem on the grass, steadying it between my fingers. I pause in thought, not sure what to say. My nose itches as a strong scent of pollen oozes from the dancing bluebells; I rub my hand under my nose and sniff it away. My focus returns to Tristan.

  “There’s no way to sugar-coat my words; all I can do is soften them slightly. I could sit in your arms and we could talk all night, because talking is all there will ever be between us. When I kiss, when I make love to a man, I want to feel the earth move like it did with Jai. When I close my eyes, it’s not your face I see or your hands I feel.”

  Lowering my eyelids I pause in thought. I blink and close my eyes again. Why isn’t it Jai’s face that materialises before me? Why isn’t it his hands that I feel holding me close? I search for him, God how I search, but there is someone else standing within the shadows of my mind.

  “Lucian,” I whisper.

  “Lucian?” Tristan repeats.

  My eyes flash open.

  “I brought you here because there are things I need to say, things I need to tell you. Rose, you must listen,” he insists as I look into his widening stare.

  I open my mouth to speak.

  “Please don’t interrupt. No matter how far-fetched what I tell you seems, I only speak the truth.”

  My forehead crinkles into a frown, and I watch him as he lifts the edge of the blanket, folding it back. For a split second I think he’s going to pull it from beneath us.

  “Rose, follow my hand, look down at the forest floor. The bluebells, their tiny violet and blue faces as they turn one way and then the other when caught by the ebb and flow of the breeze. And yet, this piece of ground, the grass we sit on, holds no particular beauty.”

  I can’t see a point to any of what Tristan has to say, yet I don’t interrupt him and allow my eyes to follow the movement of his hand. Opening a side pocket in his bag, he rummages and pulls out a handful of seeds, which he cups within his palm. He then rests his hand on the lush green grass besides us, scooping away a small piece of earth into which he presses the small brown seeds.

  “Keep watching, Rose, and listen to what I have to say.”

  I hear him take a deep breath.

  “We’re all born onto this earth with a guardian angel, who is our protector from the moment we take our first breath until the last one passes silently from our lips. In this life none of us is ever truly alone.”

  My focus averts from the ground and meets his open-eyed gaze.

  “No, Rose, please do as I’ve asked and look down.”

  My eyes shift back to the ground. The seeds have become thick green stems which peek out at me and push their way up from the disturbed soil towards the light. I sink back onto my knees in awe as I witness them grow before me. I’m unable to turn away until Tristan’s voice breaks through the silence.

  “Every day angels and dark angels walk amongst us, they are everywhere; just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

  “Dark angels? Do you mean demons?” I question.

  “Demons are dark angels, angels who turn bad, and then they are in league with Lucifer, the devil. Occasionally an angel falls in love with their human, and then they are given a choice. Do they continue with their existence as an angel with the privilege of wings and powers, able to see all the beauties this planet has to offer, or do they fall from grace and temporarily forsake their wings, and live out the rest of their days as a mortal? Believe me, it isn’t an easy choice to make.”

  It’s ironic, but if Tristan or anybody else had sat me down and told me there was such a thing as guardian angels, I would have told them they were mad, off their heads. Though as I watch the rose bush grow before me in a matter of moments, it seems that he is able to make the impossible a possibility. The pull of the sun seems to goad the novice green stems, which grow taller and thicken, with sporadic thorns shooting out from their sides. They harden as tight green buds emerge, their encasement bursting to life as petal by petal these red beauties unfold.

  “The human eye misses so much. You glance around you but never actually stop or take the time to see what’s before you. The human world is a farce and is blinded by ignorance. I had the privilege of being your angel, and not so long ago I was given that choice.”

  I look up.

  “Tristan, are you saying you fell for me?”

  “I think you already know the answer to that question.”

  I can feel blushes rise as my cheeks warm. My eyes flit around the forest as I try to look anywhere other than at Tristan. My gaze meets a lonesome butterfly as she passes by, her black and white speckled wings and orange overcoat depicting her name perfectly. It’s as if momentarily she rests in mid-flight and hovers before me in slow motion. When caught by the sun, minute particles of dust emit from her wings and she sits in a golden haze; then, without warning, she is carried by pockets of air and is on her way again. There’s such truth to Tristan’s words. We really don’t see what’s around us, and when we do leave this earth, we have missed so much.

  Tristan’s voice startles me. “Why do you think the forest holds so much significance for us both?”

  I pass him a blank stare.

  “I brought you back here for a reason, in the hope of jogging your memory. Can’t you blatantly see what is before your eyes? I love you, Rose, I always have.”

  I feel a fluttering in my heart.

  “My feelings became so clear to me the night of your attempted suicide. I couldn’t just watch you end your life. My only option left was to jump, allowing my arms to be there to collect you when you fell. If by chance I was unable to save you, then at least we would have been together, walking hand in hand through the beautiful garden of death.”

  I twist my hair in my fingers.

  “Do you know what you’re asking me to believe, and how far-fetched this all sounds?” I say as I glimpse down at the rose bush and her vibrant red petals. “Okay, hypothetically speaking, let’s say I believe you, let’s say you were the stranger on the bridge that night; if I had jumped and you had followed, we would both have jumped to our death. So how could you possibly have saved me? How would I have magically fallen into your arms?”

  This isn’t the movies, I think to myself; if you jump, you die, it’s as simple as that.

  “You’re forgetting, Rose, I was an angel, and an angel never loses his wings.”

  I lean to the side, bending my head round to look at his back.

  “Wings? I can’t see them.”

  “You won’t; it’s my choice that they are never seen.”

  I roll my eyes. “Then was it you? Were you the stranger on the bridge that saved me?”

  “That night I pulled out all the stops. I surrendered my immortality for you, and as I fell I called out to the heavens for their help. They answered by allowing those resplendent rose petals to float down around us. I was there, waiting beneath. My arms were there to catch you. My plan was for this night to be our perfect introduction.”

  My eyes return to the roses and I watch the petals darken in colour, from the brightest crimson to the dullest of violets, their perfection curling in at the edges as their pretty heads bow down towards the forest floor. I watch as they lose the will to live, then perish and become no more than a pile of ash.

  “Lucian, the devil’s spawn got to you first; he is cunning and sly. He is the stranger you talk of.”

  I can see the narrowing of Tristan’s eyes and fee
l the awkwardness growing between us. He leans forward, his hands reach up to my face and again I feel myself backing away.

  “Trust me, Rose,” he whispers.

  Before I have the chance to answer, his fingers rest across my eyes and I’m thrown into darkness.

  “Take in everything around you.” His voice soothes my ears. “Can you hear the wheels of the carriage in which you ride as they rattle against the cobblestone road? Can you feel them bump beneath you? Can you breathe as easily with the laced corset around your waist that pulls you in so tightly? Lift your hand from your lap, put aside the small drawstring bag you carry and brush the silken material of your dress between your fingers. Now, open your eyes.”

  I feel the release of his hands. Squinting, I gaze around in wonder. God, what century am I in? I ask myself. As I look around me, daylight and Tristan are no more. I am sitting in an old-fashioned carriage, the seat hard against my back, and we are being pulled along by dapple-grey horses.

  “Tristan, how are you doing this?”

  Although he is not by my side, his voice is constant in my mind.

  “Look around you, Rose, admire the trees set in darkness. Can you make out the turrets stretching skyward? If you look hard enough you will see Fordwickston Castle as it welcomes your arrival. The carriage has drawn up, you step out and are walking toward the entrance of the castle.”

  I can feel the undulation of cobblestones beneath me as subconsciously my legs are moving towards this grand building. I turn back and see one carriage after another pulling up and mine departing. I shake my head; my hair and face are inhibited by something secured tightly. I attempt to lift my hand to feel and remove whatever it is, but as I do so, my arm is taken and linked through another.

  I look to my right, expecting to see Tristan standing at my side, but the man I see is not him; he is far shorter and of a slighter build. The stranger walks me into the hallway of this exquisite building. I am able to make out that his hair is dark, but I cannot see his face as it is partially covered by an ornate black and gold mask. I slide my bag up my arm, lifting my free hand to my face, and feel that I too am wearing some kind of mask. I lower my eyes and see that I am dressed in the most bizarre evening gown, its colour a two-tone kingfisher blue, the skirt a mass of frills. I feel ridiculous.

  The room I approach is filled with music, raised voices and laughter. I look towards the ladies and gentlemen who are dressed like me; the women are wearing eye-catching ball gowns in every shade of the rainbow, while the men are dressed in black suits and waistcoats, with cravats tied at their necks. Although I begin to question my sanity, I can’t help but feel that I’ve been here before, yet I know that’s not possible. Perhaps it is all a dream; I know how vivid my dreams can be.

  We pass through the open doorway and my eyes are almost taken from me. The room is magnificent, with everything gold and ornate and the floor a pictured mosaic that fits together beautifully. It is just how I imagine Cinderella’s ballroom to be, and here I am, standing within it.

  The man who partners me unlinks his arm from my own, though we are not apart for long. I feel his hand slip itself around my waist, and then without offering me a word he escorts me into the middle of the dance floor. He spins me around to face him; through the dancing light of candles, the allure of his green eyes is hypnotic.

  I jump at his touch, for it is like a charge of electricity that rages through me, and as our breaths meet it is as though I can taste him. His stance is rigid; he takes the lead, twirling me around the dance floor in his arms. The dresses and all their pretty colours merge. I blink and it is as if the room stands still. It feels like the instruments are being played for us alone, with all the other attendees merely spectators, silently watching us weave between them. Momentarily I feel a one-handed release, and as my eyes lift to meet his, he pulls off his mask, passing me a smile.

  I fall back and my steps falter.

  “Lucian,” I stutter, my eyes wide.

  I’m in the arms of the bouncer from The Silken Kite.

  “Do you really think it is fair for you to know my name when I am at a disadvantage and ignorant of your own?”

  There’s a huskiness in his voice, but why is he talking this way? I part my lips to answer, but his lips are already pressing down roughly against mine. His passion crushes my gasps as I attempt to breathe. His tongue tempts me on entry, softly, slowly to begin with; I feel it circling around my mouth, exploring. I groan at his growing demand, and feel rough bites as his teeth play along my lower lip. He unravels my curls, bunching them between the firmness of his fingers, and then I feel my head as its jerked back and his gaze as he looks down into my unguarded eyes. My face, my lips are his to own as he sucks and kisses his way along my neck, making his way into my heart.

  He snatches his kiss from my lips; I see a glint in his emerald eyes.

  “Oh dear, what will my guests make of my behaviour? I can almost see them whispering behind their hands and hear their tongues as they wag. What a scandalous affair.” He laughs with a quick shake of his head. “Madam, one dance and you have me bewitched.”

  A cough, followed shortly by another. I turn towards the guests as they spectate. Returning my gaze to Lucian, I notice his eyes have lost their sparkle. I briefly catch his curved smile, which dissolves into a frown of indifference.

  “Have I taken leave of my senses?” His tone is stern.

  But then I stop to think, for I believe it is me who has taken leave of mine. Immediately I tense. Where the hell am I? Is this a dream that I’m trapped within? This isn’t like me; it’s as if I’m an actress playing the role of some leading lady.

  The dancers move closer and stand in silence; one of us must hold great importance. I lose focus of my steps, teetering on my heels. He pulls me closer. It is as if he looks right through me.

  “As you were!” he shouts into the crowd of people.

  The orchestra strikes up and the next dance is announced. Our audience return to the dance floor and the dancing commences, while we stand lost between the gaieties of galloping feet.

  With a fleeting shake of his head, I hear Lucian chuckle as he guides me away from the hubbub and out into the castle gardens. His eyes seem transfixed on me as together we saunter through the vast grounds. After a while his steps slow and he complains of feeling tired. We pass a weathered stone bench on which he sinks down to rest.

  He sits forward, resting his arms on his knees.

  “My life holds very little meaning these days. The truth is, I am dying. I have consumption, and very little time left in this world.” He lifts his gaze towards the sky. “I stood back in the shadows of the castle tonight watching my guests arrive. I had no desire to attend the ball myself.” He strokes my hand. “And yet when you walked from your carriage, instantly I was mesmerised. No, I was captivated by your beauty. I could not stand back and let you pass by. It may have been a little presumptuous on my part, but I took the chance, took your arm, and … well, you know the rest.”

  Though he is masked by darkness, I can still see the outline of his handsome face. I lift my hand and reach up to unveil myself.

  “No, please.” He grips my wrist. “Please do not mar something as perfect as we are tonight.”

  My arm drops to my side and my eyes make their way up to his.

  Lucian’s voice becomes a distortion of words, though I am able to make out that he wishes me to stay seated on the bench. He will be back. I feel our stare as it intensifies and blink several times as he walks away. As my eyes clear, the darkness transforms into daylight. My ears pick up a man’s voice, his words crisp and clear; it is no longer Lucian, but Tristan who is speaking.

  “Can you see him walking away from you towards the castle, Rose? Open your eyes.”

  My eyelids flutter. I am lying on the plaid picnic blanket and Tristan sits behind me. My black hair is fanned out, my head resting gently in the hollow of his lap.

  “What just happened? How are you doing this? I wan
t answers!” I demand, hearing an anger grow in my voice.

  “I’m opening up a dream, a dream you had but you choose to forget. There’s a lot you choose to forget.”

  I push myself away from Tristan’s hold and up into a crouched position. I peer into his face, which portrays a serious edge.

  “It was an interlinking of time, wishes and destinies… I’m so stupid; I was the catalyst to it all!”

  “Tristan…”

  He leans forward and places his finger on my lips. I’m unable to ask the many questions that are about to fire off my tongue.

  “Your life with Jai, your relationship was a perfect picture. He loved you unconditionally and you loved him back.”

  A great sadness falls over me and my face drops. It’s like I am sitting within a dark veil. Our relationship is something I don’t feel ready to discuss with Tristan, or anyone for that matter.

  “You know at some point you’ve got to let him go and move on with your life.”

  I jump to my feet.

  “I don’t intend hanging round any longer to listen to this shit.”

  “Don’t be in such a rush to leave; you will listen to me.”

  Stabilising my stiletto, I attempt to walk away but my heels stick fast and I’m unable to move.

  “Remember back to the last few weeks of Jai’s life as you lay in bed in his arms. As his breathing slowed and he fell asleep, you prayed to God for an escape. When he failed to answer your prayers, like many before you, you called out to me. How could I fail you, how could I fail to answer your prayers?”

  His stern look has changed to one of sincerity. I have to swallow back a lump in my throat.

  “My resolve was to allow you escapism from Jai’s illness and all your unhappiness. I went against the gods and the rules they have written for us. I allowed you to escape your life of heartache. I allowed you to forget Jai each night when you entered your dreams, but Rose, they were not merely dreams. They became realities and I made it possible for you to enter and briefly to live within them.”

  His narrow lips are pulled taut. I can’t catch his stare as his eyes flit to avoid me.