Feathertide
Page 30
The sea is unbroken and still. I sail without a map, or coordinates to guide me, and I do not need the stars at night to help me navigate my way, but I am not lost. Elver was right: the way is within me; it has always been there, and now I am listening.
Reaching inside my pocket, my fingers clasp around the smooth shape of the watch Professor Elms had given to me. Like a heavy coin, I pull it out and turn it over in my hand. It catches in the light, and for the first time I notice the tiny swirl of letters engraved around the bottom: Tempus fugit. I smile at the simple truth. Then lifting my arm high in an arch behind my head, I throw the watch as far as I can into the twilight distance. It falls without a sound and I watch it sink into the starfish sea. I make my wish.
As before, the mist comes first, dampening my skin and leaving behind a silver sheen. Wands of warm pink light trapeze through the sky, casting their spell and I stand to greet them. The sun is reluctant to tuck itself in, and the light still lingers. Indefinite shapes begin to emerge: a green smudge of a forest and a flash and crash of a waterfall. The images I had seen wrapped within my father’s wings are now so close, they are no longer just imagined. The mist slowly parts and dissolves and I can see the tremble of mountains and the stars that seem to hang, glittering from every tree. The Island of Mist exhales its long-held breath: damp and warm and alive with anticipation. I am expected and I am welcomed and there is such sweetness to it all.
Above me a swoop of birds appears, making a sparkling pattern in the sky. Like twirling pinwheels, they dip and dive and I feel the whoosh of their wings all around me. Suddenly, a rush of air shakes me loose and I am being lifted higher and higher, until there is nothing left beneath my feet, but mist. My feathers respond, unfurling themselves one by one and stretching out further than I ever thought possible. I had never seen them so long and my laughter surprises the air. The birds split and scatter in a spray of musical light, and afterwards they fall and settle in the trees. I realise then that it is not stars amongst the leaves, but birds – hundreds of them – all bright and shining and filled with song. I had seen beauty in the sky before, but never until this moment had I been a part of it.
The world no longer stands. It flies – watchful, whisperful, wonderful – just like on the night I was born. With unhurried delight we mingle and soar, as the boat gently drifts further into the ever-widening sea. Everything else falls away – I am weightless, and boundless, and free. My feathers are aflame in the gleaming light of the slowly setting sun. The real enchantment has at last begun.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My thanks go to Ariella Feiner, who first saw a sparkle in the darkness and gave me a map to find it. You made this book so much better and I am fortunate that it fluttered onto your desk. Thank you also to Molly Jamieson for her support along the way.
To Katie Seaman, whose insight, expertise and wisdom made the sparkle shine even brighter. Thank you to you and the whole team at Ebury for giving me my happily ever after. Many thanks also to everyone at Cornerstone for such a warm welcome.
To my parents, who always knew I was a writer.
Gratitude to Jeannette, mentor and friend; to Dawn for always being there; to Becky with whom I shared the most magical childhood; to Louise and John for accompanying me on many of my little whims; to Mr G who helped to quieten the doubts; and to my PRU crew for filling the days with laughter – I wish I had found you earlier.
To the friends I grew up with who I see too little, but who mean so much.
To Poppy and Isobel, my constant companions, who are beside me as I write and as I dream.
As Leonard Cohen once wrote: ‘Greece is a good place to look at the moon,’ and I am lucky enough to spend my summers there with my head tilted towards the sun-warmed sky and my toes dipped into the deep blue sea. It is therefore thanks to my Greek family who welcome me back each time with open arms.
And finally, to Agapios, whose strength, kindness and patience make everything better.
THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING
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Copyright © Beth Cartwright, 2020
Illustration: Joanna Lisoweic
Design: www.headdesign.co.uk
Beth Cartwright has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
First published by Del Rey in 2020
Feathertide is a work of fiction. Names, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 9781473582521