Chapter 29
1393 Words
Chapter 29
She’s trying to kill me, I think as my wings flare out, desperately trying to keep me airborne even as I crash through the tree branches.
She told me too much. She doesn’t trust me.
Thoughts are tumbling through my head as I spin, and the ground is coming at me alarmingly fast when I realize the truth—Ocypete thought I’d mastered flying.
That was our deal; I fly to her place, she comes clean. She fulfilled her end of the bargain, it’s my own fault that I’m going to die in a pile of broken legs, arms…and wings.
Wings, dammit. I have wings. So…use them.
I pump, spread them wider, do everything that has failed me on the practice fields, to no avail. And then, right when I’m about to come to an alarmingly final stop, I feel those eyes again, red, heavy…terrifying. Whatever belongs to those eyes has wings, too. And so do I. Time to embrace that—or at least, the part that I need the most right now.
I take a deep breath…and give up.
I’ve got the space of half a second to stop being Edie, the teenager from Florida, and start being whatever I actually am. And amazingly, it works. The moment I let go of everything I think of as me—everything that is human—my wings take control.
Almost too quickly.
I’m thrust upward, branches I managed to avoid on the way down getting their smacks in as I ascend. But I’m laughing, the lift in my stomach spreading to my face as a smile cracks.
I’m flying, dammit. Despite everything that’s messed up in my life, this is amazing. I turn and soar over the trees, literally above it all.
I sweep in toward the ground and realize that while I may have figured out how to fly, I certainly have not figured out how to land. I crash awkwardly into the soil, actually rolling head over heels. But the ground is wet and springy, and I’m too happy to care that I’m covered in dirt.
I stand and brush myself off. My legs are scraped to hell, but this time I remember the magic spray I keep in my bag and I’m fixed up in no time. My uniform is fine…not even a tear. I should expect nothing less from shape changing magic cloth.
After I sort myself out I head back toward the school. Everything Ocypete told me fits, but I don’t want to believe her. The gods are responsible for the war? For the student’s deaths? Even for my father’s murder?
I know Ocypete believes it’s all true, but that doesn’t mean that it is. I can’t forget what Merilee said about how dementia isn’t exclusive only to humans. Pity might have actually cracked. I detour back to the Weeping Wall, scrambling through the ruins and finding my mother’s photo. I stare at it for a while, wondering what my life would have been like if she lived. Who would I have been? Who is my father?
“She was one of our best students,” a voice says from behind me and I turn to find Themis. Her perfect neatness is out of place in these ruins.
“You knew…she was my mother?” I ask. Though it’s not really a question.
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” I spit out the words, full of venom.
“I wanted to protect you. I wanted to protect your father…”
“Well you did a bang up job. My bio mom is dead. My adoptive dad is dead. Who knows where the rest of my family is? And I’m stuck here, not knowing who to trust.”
A noise escapes Themis’ mouth and it takes me a moment to realize she is sobbing. I want to stay angry but her emotion is so raw…I go to her side.
She puts her hand on my shoulder and sinks to the ground, taking me with her. “I loved your father. I loved him like he was my own son.”
“You raised him.” I prompt. Tears are filling my own eyes at the thought of him and I swallow the knot in my throat.
“He was a foundling. He just appeared in the marsh. A gift…I fought to keep him. The second I saw him, I knew he was meant to be my son.”
I hadn’t realized how much Themis loved him. I hadn’t thought about what his death must have done to her. “Tell me about him,” I say.
Themis wipes her tears, her face impossibly perfect. “He was smart and so good. He always stood up for anyone who was picked on. He didn’t think it was right that the girls who got pregnant were kicked out. He begged me to do something, so I did. First with Mavis’s mom. She motions to another photograph with the name Bella Demopoulous written under it. Like my mother’s, it’s been kept clean all these years.
“Then with yours,” she says, pointing to Adrianna Aspostolos. “A spell was cast to hide their condition. But it didn’t matter in the end.”
“It was you,” I said, looking between the two portraits. “You were the one who took care of their pictures.”
“Yes, it was the least they deserved, dying the way they did.” Themis shudders at the thought. “I took you both in. But as Mavis grew it was harder and harder to hide both of you on campus. She was always in to everything.
“Your father…he knew it was only a matter of time. He and your mother were together then and agreed to take you away from here. The day they left was the hardest of my life. Watching three of my children—that’s how I thought of you all—disappear. But I knew it was for the best. If you were found you would have been destroyed.”
“Destroyed? Why?”
She chokes off a sob, gets to her feet and looks down at me. “I’ve told you too much, but I hope you understand now why we all did the things we did. Whisking you away, the spells to keep you hidden and to stop you from shifting…”
“If you did all that, then please do one last thing and let me stay in the assassination class. I figured out flying today and I’m sure shifting will happen soon. If I could just have a little more time—”
Themis is already shaking her head. “No, Edie. I’m sorry. The deadline is firm. It’s not my decision alone.”
I nod, thinking of how I’d embraced my wings and finally been able to fly. How will I ever get past my fear of those red eyes, and the fire within them? How can I ever equate that with me?
“If I shift before the dance this weekend, though, I stay, right?”
“That was the bargain. I will make sure the Academy honors it.” Themis turns to leave, but I reach out, stopping just short of actually touching her.
“Wait, do you know what I am?” I ask. “I…the night of the fire…my hands had scales…”
“Scales? I truly don’t know what you might be. But I have a feeling it will be spectacular.” She gives my cheek one last caress. “Please,” she tells me. “Try to stay out of trouble.”
I scramble to my feet. “Thank you. For everything you did for me. For everything you did for my father.”
She nods tightly and I decide to push my luck. “Look, I heard some rumors that the gods aren’t everything they seem. That they’re just using us in the war against the monsters…”
The slap comes out of nowhere and for a moment I can barely believe it’s happened. Then my face burns and I stare at Themis with wide, hurt eyes.
“Don’t you ever say anything like that again. Don’t even think it,” she tells me. But it’s not anger I hear in her voice—it’s fear. She pulls me in for a tight hug, then pushes me away just as forcefully and flees the ruins.
“Wait!” I yell after her. But she’s gone.
So many emotions are swirling around in me. I once again stare at the mother I never had a chance to know. I go to Bella’s portrait as well, to study it. Mavis’ similarities with her birth mother are not as strong as mine are with mine, but there’s a resemblance. Bella Demopoulos has the same inscription under her portrait as my mother—died in childbirth.
I touch it gently. I have so many questions still, but one stands out.
Who is my father?
- Writer
