Authors: Constance Sharper
“These people aren’t run of the mill criminals and we did well considering.” Mason sounded exasperated. “And this is your fault anyways. I told you they’d be coming.” His comment landed particularly hard, probably because it was true.
“Not helping now!” She shouted at him, eyes glistening so much he just looked blurry.
Mason leaned away from her making a face she couldn’t distinguish. In the next minute, she heard his tone change.
“Okay, I’m sorry. I know this isn’t your fight.” Mason was trying to sound gentle. He wasn’t good at it, but she tried to calm herself down in return. She wiped her cheeks clean and blinked the wetness out of her eyes. It may have been the because of the magic in her body but Avery felt alright physically. Her muscles only ached a little bit. Also, she hadn’t gained any wounds and they hadn’t died. She knew she shouldn’t be that upset.
“I suppose you did the smart thing anyways. You don’t know me. I could have been one of them just trying to trick you. Hiding away and staying around people was probably the right thing to do.”
He kept consoling her and it sounded both awkward and painfully forced. She decided that harpies weren’t good at being nice which would only add more credence to that nasty vicious reputation they had. Mason made an attempt though, and she appreciated it. She looked at him this time and gave a weak smile.
“Thanks.” She’d take credit for being smart even if she had technically just been grounded. “And thanks for saving me.” She added.
She stuck a hand out in the air.
“We never did actually get to know each other properly. Hi, I’m Avery. Resident human.”
He quirked a smile at the last part but only glimpsed at her hand instead of shaking it. Probably not a harpie custom, Avery decided. She tucked her hand away before the wind chill could properly get to it.
“Mason. Harpie.” He repeated her greeting and stretched his feathers in what Avery assumed was the harpie version of a handshake. It reminded her of her old parakeets.
“So, would you like to fill me in on who exactly is chasing us? You knew them right?” As much as she’d wanted to chat about anything carefree, she knew the situation called for more serious conversation.
Mason’s smile faded when he heard the question.
“I did know the girl once… Her name was Eva and I knew her before she became a fugitive. Those harpies together are called the Band of Thieves. And they had originally tried to steal the amulet from our prince, Jericho.” Each quiet word he spoke made his face grow pinker.
Sensing the tension around the subject, she changed the topic a bit.
“You said you were trying to recover the amulet for your boss. Does that mean your boss is the prince?”She asked to put the information together.
“Yes but he wasn’t just the prince. He was my father.” Mason clarified and continued with, “You have to understand that the Band of Thieves is legend in my world. They are considered some of the most deadly and dangerous fugitives. And those back there? They were just the youngest ones. We wouldn’t have escaped from their superiors.
“My father both created and owned the amulet. It was called the Willow amulet and it carried strong magic. One night he was traveling with the amulet when the Band ambushed him off of the California coast. Somewhere in the fight it fell and the amulet was lost. I scoured the coast and found nothing. Nothing but you.”
That brought up another subject.
“Okay, walk me through this magic thing.” She begged him, knowing it was probably lowering his opinions of human brains, but she still had a problem wrapping her head around this. “You said that I picked up the amulet and that it broke. Then the magic slipped into me.”
He nodded for confirmation so she went on.
“And that magic is just chilling there. Keeping me warm.” It sounded more bizarre. Was she actually tapping into the magic? And how exactly did it just chill in someone’s body?
“Consider yourself like a vessel. Just like an amulet. The magic will reside within your body like an energy signature. The energy will give your body some strength just by being nearby.” He wrapped his hand around a closed fist as an example. Avery wasn’t going to pretend she understood that fully.
“Okay, now you said you could fix it.” She said next.
“Yes. It should be entirely possible to pull the magical energy away from your body and recapture it in a new amulet.”
“Okay.” It didn’t sound perfectly insane. Holding out her hand so that the black mark showed clearly, she said, “Go nuts.”
She expected some chanting or flashes of neon light. Contrary to what she expected though, Mason just gave her a helpless look.
“I’m not personally sure how yet.” He said. “But that shouldn’t be impossible to find out.” He added hastily, apparently more than embarrassed to show a lack of knowledge.
She frowned, unable to hide her disappointment.
“Well, your father created it, right? Then he’d be the one to know how to get it out of me. We just need to find him before the Band of Thieves finds us.”
Mason didn’t answer at first, opting instead to stand and walk closer to the woods. He disappeared behind the trees and returned with dry wood. Avery took the hint and followed him over. It was cold next to the river and unprotected from the falling snow. By the trees, it was a bit warmer and more out of sight. He put a make shift fire together quickly and Avery happily sat next to it.
“Okay, now where do we go? They’ll obviously find us here if we linger.” She pointed out.
“We have some time before we have to move. Dry your clothes and get some sleep.”
Avery cast a look up toward the sky. Though darkness in Alaska didn’t always mean pitch black, she couldn’t even see the stars. That also meant no one flying over head could see them well either. Maybe a few hours wouldn’t hurt. They wouldn’t be making good progress this tired anyways.
“Alright.” She finally agreed.
Rest didn’t come particularly uninvited. She curled up on the grass and finally allowed herself to relax. Avery didn't even realize she dozed off until she recognized the hot sandy shores of her dream. It reminded her of California down to the salty air and sparkling blue water. Wrapping her arms around herself, she peered down the shore line from where she stood. The beach sat dead quiet with only ghostly remnants of life. Empty tan chairs angled around a pile of charred ashes in the fire pit. Pacing around, she remembered it. This was the campsite she’d been at for the Fourth of July.
White flashes lit up the sky and drew her attention upward. They came from the farther down the beach, down by the pile of shoreline rocks. She strode toward them without thought. Each step she took turned into a mile in her dream world and in moments, she had climbed to the top of the rock pile. The flashes in the sky came closer and became distinguishable as figures. Both figures had long lanky limbs and large wings. They clashed sounding like fire crackers. Avery covered her ears.
The battle came closer until it raged just off the shoreline and Avery finally recognized the harpies. One wore bronze armor with a gothic spiral insignia, and she identified the wearer as Rafael. He gave his trademark ugly smile, even as he clashed in battle. She looked at the other harpie and knew his face.
“Jericho.” She identified him aloud.
Jericho, the harpie Prince, didn’t look much like his son Mason. He had black hair instead of brown and was shorter and slimmer. Considerable lines etched his face showing his age and his slow reflexes showed the toll that age had played on his body. The only way he resembled Mason was the pale green eyes and the way he held himself with indestructible pride.
Jericho’s eyes past over the beach and over her but looked on blindly like Avery wasn’t there.
Rafael continued to lunge at him but Jericho danced away gracefully. A shiny marble caught her eye next. The shiny marble was the amulet which dangled from Jericho’s neck almost mockingly, glowing with a faint blue and staying always one inch out of Rafael’s reach.
Suddenly she spotted a flurry of other winged figures join the fray. Each moved so quickly that it difficult was to distinguish their faces. The unrecognizable harpies flew at Jericho and the four of them circled him with a systematic formation.
The sound of shifting sand on the beach caught Avery’s attention and she glanced away from the battle. Behind her stood Mason, except Mason didn’t see her either. Wings tucked in beneath his oversized trench coat, he walked to the end of the beach like she had. His eyes watched the clouds and Avery followed his gaze. Jericho had staggered back in the air. Wings spiraling, he didn’t fly but plunged. In seconds, Rafael made a grab for Jericho. Rafael caught the amulet, ripping it clear off its gold chain. The amulet fell free and spiraled down towards the waves.
Avery instantly lost interest in the fight. Some unknown urge driving her, she raced down toward the waves where the amulet had fallen. Ankle deep in the water, she dug for it, fingers clawing through the sand until she held the hot broken glass in her hands.
Avery woke with a stir. A strong breeze brushed at her face and she blinked the dust out of her eyes. Mason stood back in the clearing, airing out his open wings. Sometime since she’d fallen asleep, he scrapped the blood splattered shirt completely and stood with his chest bare. The lack of wardrobe did him justice at least. Even while thin by human comparisons, his chest was flat and defined with muscles. He’d cleaned the mud out of his face and hair with the river water. Together, Mason resembled a male model without the steroids. Avery had to scold herself quickly before her body reacted to the inappropriate thought train. It stirred a feeling in her that she wasn’t exactly okay with.
“Come on.” He beckoned, seeing her awake.
“Where are we going?” Using the ground to boost herself, Avery came to a wobbly stand.
The sleep had helped but it was by no way a miracle. She massaged her special hand, willing it to give her some strength. Mason finally circled back away from the fire and joined her near the tree line.
“We need to leave before they find us here. Besides, bad weather will be moving in. We need to reach the southern coast by the end of the day.”
He beckoned her closer with an open hand. She took it and let him guide her out into the clearing. Mason’s nails seemed sharper now and looked more like talons. Maybe he’d filed them down before coming to her school. Maybe most of what she saw was an illusion. Shoving the possibilities in the back of her mind, she glanced at the sky. As promised, clouds had formed in the horizon but the darkness hid the extent.
“The southern coast is a long walk away.” She pointed out blatantly.
His wings snapped open with an unspoken suggestion.
“Oh no! How do you know you can even fly on those?” She backed away without giving up his hand.
“We’ll make it but I need you to trust me.”
She wanted to protest but one wearily glance around them stopped her. They were probably miles from the next town. A quick way of travel would be preferable. She looked at him again. He seemed confident in his flying ability, but maybe harpies always did that confidence thing. Giving up, she agreed.
He pulled her to his bare chest and angled her arms to reach around his neck. Scolding herself mentally for flushing, Avery stared towards the ground. The stance looked awkward. Avery barely made it above the five foot range so Mason had some serious height on her. He didn’t find it important once they would be airborne.
“Where do we find your father then?” She muttered into his chest as his wings began to pick up speed.
“We’re not looking for him. We’re going to the harpie court.”
She forced her head back at an odd angle to look at his face.
“I thought it was your father that could help us.”
His face became morose and Mason looked as if he seriously debated telling her a thing. The ground disappeared below them as he began to hover. Avery squirmed but Mason’s arms around her waist held her still. Moving a hand, he pressed her face back into his chest. Before she could protest, a rumbling stirred deep in his chest.
“You must understand. The Band of Thieves didn’t just attack my father Jericho. They killed him.”
Seven
A hundred feet in the atmosphere became absolutely deafening and yet Avery found herself screaming above the wind ringing in her ears.
“How much farther?” She questioned increasingly impatiently.
Muscles trembling, she struggled to draw herself closer to Mason who seemed like his own personal heater. She’d never put much thought into why harpies ran twenty degrees hotter than humans but this stood as the best explanation. A few hundred feet in the air, it got cold. And her human body wasn’t happy about it.