Airborne (29 page)

Just a few steps from the exit, Samuel stopped in his tracks. At first she’d thought he’d fallen from his injuries but instinct quickly told her something was wrong. Samuel hadn’t stopped because of something but rather because of someone. That someone’s body was eclipsed in the dying sunlight outside but she didn’t need to see his face to recognize him.

Samuel used the moment to dive out of the opening, even on his injured wings. Then Avery was alone. An icy fear washed through her veins, and Avery forgot how to breathe. Mikhail’s black eyes glimmered with sick enjoyment.

“Now, I couldn’t let you get away without seeing you first. After all, now that the government’s out of the picture, we have a personal score to settle.” He made a wide gesture with his hand to encompass the entire array of chaos.

Weary, she checked her escape routes. Crawling through the wreckage would be too slow and she couldn’t fly. Avery was trapped with Mikhail. Her brain fought to connect with her mouth and she blurted out the only thing she could.

“You don’t want to kill me.”

“I don’t?” He raised an eyebrow, edging toward her slowly.

“No. This magic won’t help you. Everyone in the world will know where you are all the time. If you have it, you can’t hide from anyone.” She circled to mirror his movements, desperate to keep the berth between them.

“Whoever said I was going to hide? Wait,” He tapped his forehead. “Whoever said that I only wanted to kill you because of the magic? I can’t take a slight from a little human girl.”

In the next second, he freed a long thin blade from his belt. Without a moment of hesitation, he went for her chest. Even in slow motion, Avery didn’t react in time. The blade came at her and then she fell to the floor. She expected pain but none came. Then she caught on. She hadn’t been stabbed but knocked back. Someone had pulled her free before the blade made its target. Avery whirled to face her hero.

“You came back for me!” Avery shouted.

Mason shot her half a smile but kept his eyes trained on Mikhail. The Band’s leader had recovered from the movement quickly and was on his heels again. Mikhail’s weapon had the natural advantage and he used it. Mikhail dove for Mason this time, a tactical sliding movement that caught Mason’s shoulder. Blood splattered and a gurgled cry escaped Mason’s throat. Mikhail kept on him, ready to launch another attack.

“Hey pigeon, over here!” Avery shouted.

Her insult worked. Mikhail turned and Avery launched into motion. His wing was wide open and she jumped for it. She made contact with the bone segment of Mikhail’s wing and let loose the magic in her chest. If it hurt, she never got the chance to know. Mikhail spun on her quickly. She slammed back into a pillar and held both hands out. She could feel every inch of the magic now, clear as a bell. The pulse of energy raced through her fingertips with absolute control. She bundled the magic in her chest, the burning so familiar it didn’t sting anymore, and held it.

Mikhail then lunged for her. In that second, she let the magic go, pushing it out from her chest, out her hands, and into the open air. The blow, like an invisible backhand, knocked Mikhail clean off his feet. He slammed into the opposite wall with a crippling crash. The resulting vibration ripped through the entire building and the foundation churned. The damage growing worse in seconds, the walls creaked, and building shifted and slanted. Rubble rained down on their heads.

Mikhail let out a deafening bark of frustration. Twisting quickly, he rushed her. Avery threw her hands up but he only slid sideways, narrowly avoiding her. Mikhail then dove for the opening in the wall to disappear into the sky. Avery followed him to the edge and peered into the air.

She waited until he was gone, then whispered, “We did it.”

She couldn’t have done better with Jericho watching over her shoulder. Triumphant, a smile reached her in the moment of it all and she turned to Mason to find his pale face staring back.

“Avery.” He rasped and reached out for her.

Something made Avery glance down. Her breath escaped her. Mikhail had struck her on the way out. His silver knife had slashed her nearly hip to hip leaving an ugly brown streak of blood in its wake. Feeling the surge of pain at that moment, she let out a bumbled gasp. Muscles giving out, she fell backwards. Mason snatched her before she fell through the opening in the wall, and then she only dangled by his hand. Her body refused to work right. She couldn’t make her numb limbs pull herself back in.

The pain grew more intense by the second until her entire abdomen was consumed by the scorching sensation. Black splotches took up her vision. Then the tingling came back in her blood. But the familiar magic suddenly seemed so unfamiliar. It pushed out from her body with the consistency of crushed ice. Among the million things stuffing into her panicked brain one echoed loudly.

“If you die, then the magic will jump to the next organic creature.”

Images flashed through her mind the same moment. Jericho’s crumpled form falling into the raging black ocean. The shiny rock that had attracted her attention and the sting as it dissolved in her hand.

“Mason.” She whispered. “Mason, let go.”

The building was collapsing. He’d die with her. And the magic. Even if he got out, the magic would be his death warrant. She stopped holding but his grip never loosened. Holding on so tight that his talons dug into her skin, he refused to let go.

She knew when the magic reached him, curling around his body with the stinging that made him gasp. She knew when it left her too, and a sudden fatigue soaked into her body. Barely aware anymore, she just saw him flinch. Then he pulled with such strength she ended up face flat on his chest. Unspoken, she just barely understood what had happened. The magic sinking into Mason gave him that burst of strength that had left her. Quickly, he wrapped his arms around her back.

The last thing she remembered before her world spiraled black was the wing on her face and the subtle brushing of soft feathers. The last thing she remembered was going airborne.

Twenty-seven

She came to with a start, launching herself forward and immediately regretting the movement. Abdomen in stitches, she drew herself forward cautiously the second time around.

Her surroundings were surprisingly calm and quiet, and the knot of anxiety in her chest took a moment to loosen. Rather than a salty beach side or green forest clearing, she sat in a stark white room. The room was empty and lacked furniture in the corners, photos or paintings on the walls, or any real hint of life. The ceiling clearance was abnormally high leading her to the conclusion she wasn’t anywhere in a human structure. Maybe she was in a VIP harpie cell or some type of harpie hospital room.

She turned her attention down to her stomach, the gruesome memory of the bloody wound inflicted by Mikhail weighing heavily on her mind. The injury had been tightly bandaged so she couldn’t see any stitches or scar. The pain was minimal so she shifted her thoughts to the more pressing situation at hand.

The nearby door’s knob jingled and turned, and then a figure slipped in quietly. Mason walked in and his eyes widened when he caught sight of her.

“You’re awake already.” He crossed the room to end up by her bed.

His arm too had been bandaged with the same consistency as hers and his white face became a canvas for dark purple bruising. He held his wings awkwardly, but otherwise he was looking well.

“You okay?” He asked when he sat down at the bottom edge of her bed.

“Depends. We’re still in harpie headquarters aren’t we?” It came out more hateful than she’d intended. The dismal situation was sinking in fast and Avery didn’t have enough energy to fight off the negative emotions. As far as she could foresee, they’d battled for their lives and done everything to fix the magic situation only to be back at step one. This time however, the magic had jumped from her to Mason and he was the one in trouble. Already miserable, Mason’s morose comment only made her feel worse.

“I couldn’t take you very far away.” He said and she could hear the rawness in his voice.

“What do we do now, Mason?” She lowered her voice, losing her energy quickly.

Without the magic in her blood, every sore joint and cramped muscle rekindled. She hadn’t tried standing up yet, but she already knew how that would end. Toes frozen and feet numb, she’d end up face flat in a hurry. He sat at the foot of her bed.

“Well, they don’t seem to be in any hurry to kill us.” He said.

The door opened and two more harpies entered the room. The first was the frail, skinny judge, with his skeleton hands clasped tight and shedding wings wrapped around his own shoulders. The second was a more recognizable face.

“Samuel.” Mason greeted the second harpie but Avery’s parched throat kept her quiet. Neither of them looked happy. Faces grim they filed toward the corner where the judge opened his black hooded gown and produced a yellowing scroll. By the crinkles and tears, it was probably the same used in the original sentencing.

The judge came forth.

“The high juror does inform me that many of the sentences carried by Ms. Avery Zane have officially been changed.” His monotone voice managed to keep their distinct attention.

Digging in his pocket, he removed a clear amulet and held it in the air. Avery’s heart could have stopped when she recognized what kind. The amulet was another magic detector, designed to glow a fiery red when magic came too close to it.

Mason tensed besides her, waiting for the detector amulet to go off. To everyone’s surprise, the amulet didn’t light up at all. The judge’s foggy eyes scanned the amulet and then he retired the amulet back into a pocket.

“As the magic no longer resides within the body, the information we used at the sentencing was incorrect and the sentence shall be over turned. I hereby relinquish the charges and the sentence.” He clapped his hands loudly like a gavel, and then he turned and left just as quickly.

Disbelieving, Avery caught Mason’s eyes with a confounded expression. Samuel lingered, demanding their attention before Avery could fully grasp what had just transpired.

“We’re not all evil and I do remember what you’ve done for me.” Samuel said pointedly to Avery. “I’ve marked in the official books that you are dead. So it would be highly unwise to show your face in our society again. You may not get the same mercy the second time around.”

Mason nudged Avery to draw her out of her stupor.

“Of course, I’m gone.” She did the strike out motion with her hands for good measure.

Samuel nodded and his eyes flittered to Mason and stayed, darkened with an indiscernible emotion. Avery could guess what he was feeling. The only son of his dead friend sat in front of him, the son his friend had asked him to protect. For that reason, she had no doubt that the judge’s decision had been influenced.

Finally, Samuel spoke to Mason.

“And you. Your fate remains in your own hands. Adalyn’s fiancé was a noted citizen. Conviction in such a murder case could lead to hanging.”

“Wait, you’re still going on trial. We saved his--” Avery started but Mason shut her up, slapping his hand over her mouth. She growled but it went ignored.

“I know.” Mason said, seeming less distressed than he should have been.

Samuel shot him one more despondent look before leaving the room. Mason waited another minute before he let go of her mouth. She spit at him, annoyed, but couldn’t muster a physical fight. She raised her voice to make the same point.

“What was that? Mason, you’re still going on trial for murder?”

He shrugged.

“It’s complicated, Avery. If I do petition to remove my banishment then I once more fall under their laws. And if I go on trial and am found guilty...well, you heard what he said.”

She gave a hiss of frustration both at his careless tone and at the situation.

“Are you going to turn Adalyn in?” She asked.

She couldn’t exactly compare to ‘eternal harpie love’ but it seemed stupid to her. Adalyn had done him no favors. Killing her own fiancé, she put Mason on trial. Then she turned him in to the authorities. At best, Avery could see Adalyn’s actions as good intentions paving the road to hell. But, at worse, Adalyn was just a bitch.

Mason made the same twisted pout as he’d done the first time she’d mentioned it.

“I don’t think you understand. You’ve never...” He started slowly, clearly preparing an explanation of carefully calculated words but Avery cut him off at the first one.

“Never been in love. Got it.” She blurted out, feeling dirty again.

“You’ve never been stabbed in the back by someone you love either.” He slumped forward and let out a breath. The dejected look he’d put on shut up any more bitter comments she’d had in mind.