Fearless (37 page)

I calm him and hold him, stroking his head, his neck, the shoulders that I love and know so well. I soothe him until his heart – and mine – slow to a more normal pace. Then I turn my head sideways and lay the left side of my face on his warm coat. Taking in all the scents and smells I can detect, I lock them into my memory.

When I go outside, Nathaneal watches me walk over to him. Frowning, he opens his arms. I walk into them and he holds me.

Amber turns her mum's Honda into the driveway, and b
y t
he time we walk back to the house Jordan is coming out the front door with a picnic basket in his hands. We decide to drive to the ridge together and we all pile in.

‘Are you excited?' Amber asks, catching my eye in the mirror.

‘I will be when I know it's possible to fly using all eight wings.'

‘You'll be fine.'

‘Hmm, I hope so.'

Beside me in the backseat, Nathaneal squeezes my hand.

‘Well, whatever happens on the ridge today, whether
I sa
il, or … sink, I'm glad you're both going to be there watching.'

‘You mean, you're glad you're gonna have witnesses,' Jordan teases.

‘The only thing I'm going to witness today,' Amber says, ‘is my best friend flying like a bird.'

I love her optimism. It helps to settle my nerves. I'm going to miss Amber. I could not have had a better friend.

There's no one on the ridge, no sightseers or hang-gliders or lovers looking for a secret place to be alone. It's a relief. And to give me a sense of the distances involved, the four of us walk around the edge together, starting w
ith th
e cliffs facing west that overlook the Cedar Oakes Valley and a patchwork of farmlands stretching back for as far as the eye can see; then north to the abrupt drop over the Windhaven River; and lastly south to the mountains that hem the valley in like a box. It was in the south-west foothills that I grew up, knowing without understanding why I wasn't where I should be, neither in place nor in mind.

‘OK, so where's the best viewing position?' Jordan asks as we move back from the edge.

They agree on a rocky area hugging the western cliffs.

‘This isn't a show,' I remind him.

Jordan puts his arm around me. ‘Good luck, Ebrielle.'

Amber gives me a hug before turning and giving Nathaneal a harsh glare. ‘You do know what you're doing?'

Before he answers, Jordan tugs her away. ‘He knows. She'll be fine.'

Unable to take my eyes off them, I watch with clenched fists as they climb over boulders. ‘Be careful up there,' I call out.

Taking no notice, they leap across the boulders until they reach the one closest to the cliff edge. Amber goes straight to the outermost point, but Jordan brings her back to the safer side where they settle down together and share a quick but passionate kiss.

My lesson begins with simple warm-up stretches, moving quickly through exercises on controlling my wings' release and withdrawal, expanding on last night's session. But now, in the midday glare, I notice more things about my wings. Like their size when fully stretched out, and how little they weigh, how they hold themselves up with no conscious effort. Best of all, after a while, I start to think less about the steps and just
feel
how I want them to move.

We break for a short lunch and, thanks to Jordan, who packed enough food to feed a small army, we're still eating and sipping wine an hour or so later. It's so pleasant and relaxing that no one wants to move, and no one does for a while, content to pretend we're just two couples enj
oyin
g a picnic together one fine afternoon on the ridge. But eventually we all notice the sun has shifted over towards the western horizon. And since no one wants me making my first flight in darkness, Amber and Jordan pack up and return to the boulder on the cliff face, while Nathaneal returns to my lessons, explaining how my wings will work in pairs.

‘Your smallest ones are at the top,' he explains. ‘There's one on each side of your spine, graduating to the largest at the lower end of your ribs.'

Describing my wings helps me visualise the way they move. It's then I manage to maintain a steady rhythm of
running, jumping and getting the feeling of lifting about a metre off the ground. It's a start.

I spend the rest of the afternoon learning a technique called ‘flapping flight'.

‘This will keep you in the air,' Nathaneal explains, ‘as long as you maintain a continuous fluid motion.'

I work steadily through the flapping exercises and pretty soon I'm moving all eight wings in a rhythm of six wingbeats interspersed with two-second pretend-glides.

‘Breathe,' Nathaneal reminds me. And while running alongside me, he goes to straighten my posture, putting his hands on my sides, inadvertently brushing my sensitive ticklish areas and I collapse in a heap, laughing, wings folding this way and that way over the top of me.

Parting my wings with gentle hands, he looks down at me, his blue eyes blazing with his love. ‘Good news.'

Uh-oh.

‘You're ready.'

‘Really?' I've worked towards this moment all day, but now that it's here I get an instant sinking feeling in my stomach.

He reaches for my hand between the layers of feathers and I clasp it like a lifeline. ‘Nathe …' I glance at the cliff edge and have to swallow.

‘You'll be fine. I know you're ready.'

‘Hmm, maybe I should request a second opinion.' I search the sky from one end to the other. ‘Where is my sister when I need her?
'

He takes my two hands in his. ‘You don't need Shae. You're such a fast learner you hardly need me here.'

‘Do not be ridiculous. Look, if you're just going to throw me off that cliff hoping my natural instincts will kick in, I have to tell you, that sort of thing doesn't happen with me. I don't have natural angel instincts yet.'

‘I'm not going to throw you off the cliff.'

‘Oh? Well, goodie, because for a second there I thought –'

‘You're going to jump off it.'

‘
What?
'

He puts his hands on my shoulders and pushes calm energy into me. I soak it up, absorbing it all. When he releases me I mutter, ‘That's all? If I'm going to do this, I need a lot more of your calming magic than that.'

By now the sun is deep in the western sky, heading fast for the horizon. And it's colder now that the day is drawing to a close. A flock of Aracals flies overhead, preparing for their usual nightly jaunts. As long as they don't harm humans, we won't touch the flocks trapped on Earth when the gates sealed.

‘May I suggest that what you're feeling is fear?'

‘No, you may not. I'm not afraid. You heard our High King – he said I was fearless in the face of a daunting enemy. Nathe, I
want
to fly.'

His grin is lopsided. But I suppose he's right. Why wouldn't I be at least a little anxious? But fear has never stopped me moving forward before. ‘OK. OK. So how far from the edge do you think I should stand?'

He walks me over to where the clearing begins at t
he ba
se of a rock face. Then he turns me to face west and the cliffs that overlook the valley.

He can't be serious.

‘You can do it!' Amber cries out.

I glance across the grassed area between where I'm standing and the cliff I'm going to jump off. Shadows are making it hard to tell where the ridge ends and the sheer vertical drop begins.

‘
Ebrielle
,' Nathaneal says, his voice a soft plea as he steps in front of me and touches my cheek with his knuckles, ‘trust me.' His eyes blaze bright blue, reminding me of his angelic heritage –
my
heritage. Flying is the last link I need in order to belong.

To
really
belong.

‘I've got this.'

He smiles and slides his arms around me, lifting me off the ground. When he brings me down he whispers into my mind,
Thank you
, and kisses me long and hard and … oh so sweetly.

‘More,' I whisper when we part.

‘When you return.' He winks.

He steps back and opens his arms wide for me to pass. Amber pulls Jordan up on his feet, sensing that this time …

I psych myself up for the run. ‘Nathe, if something goes wrong, you will catch me, right?'

‘Every time.'

I take a deep breath, and as the sun sets fire to the splatter of low clouds on the horizon, I keep my eyes focused on the disappearing orange orb and run straight at it. Keeping my head and back upright, I ignore the urge to drop and roll to safety as I approach the cliff edge. Instead, I accelerate over it.

Oh shit, shit, shit.

I start to drop immediately. One second is all it takes for my feet to feel nothing but air and the knot in my gut explodes. I start over-breathing, a very human reaction to stress. But I'm not human.

I'm an angel.

And I have eight astonishing wings that only I can control.

With all my wings out and spread wide, I realise I'm not dropping but gliding.

‘Look at her, Jordan,' I hear Amber say.

‘She's like an eagle,' he replies, awe in both their voices.

But my wings aren't actually lifting me yet and the angle of the glide is heading pretty quickly towards the rocky ground and a narrow part of the river below.

I know how to do this, with six deep wingbeats interspersed with two seconds of –

Oh, forget that! Just flap those wings with strong purposeful beats.
Move! Up. Down. Up …

I close my eyes and let myself go –
really
let go.

The sound of Nathaneal's wingbeats tells me he's not far away. I like the comfort that brings, but I don't need res
cuin
g. I did it. I'm flying on my own.

He draws alongside me. ‘Open your eyes, Ebbie, you're missing the view. It's spectacular up here.'

When I open them, the first things I see are
his
eyes, iridescent, brilliant blue, shimmering with love and pride. ‘Wow, it sure is.'

His laughs, tossing his head back. ‘Come on, let's go higher.'

Without calculating the degree I need to tilt my wings, I simply allow the notion of lifting to enter my thoughts and
visualise
feeling
myself rising.

And my reward is a sense of being profoundly and uninhibitedly free.

As we swing round and fly past the western cliffs, Amber and Jordan jump up and down, cheering me on.

Beaming inside, I glance at Nathaneal. ‘I could get used to this.'

‘You were born to fly.'

‘You know, I think you're right.'

We land on the ridge and Jordan and Amber run and jump down from their perch, still whistling and cheering. They hug me, then each other, and it's a rare moment of complete and utter elation. I savour it. I lock it away, adding it to all my other memories that I now get to keep forever.

46

Jordan

On Sunday morning I wake with a sick feeling of dread in my gut. Today is the day the angels leave. Today Thane will take the girl I knew as Ebony to make a home together in Avena.

‘What time are they leaving?' Amber asks, waking up after a restless night.

I tighten my arms around her, pulling my quilt up over her shoulders. Some of her tousled blonde hair, damp with recent tears, falls over her eyes. I tuck it gently behind her ear. ‘After we get up.'

She spins around in my arms and looks into my face. ‘Then let's stay in bed all day.'

I'm not sure but I think she's serious. ‘Great idea. On any other day I would take you up on that offer, but …'

‘Just not today.'

‘I suppose we should get this over with. It won't be easy for Ebrielle either.'

‘I know.' She sniffs and swallows down her tears.

Man, how are we gonna make it through the goodbyes? I'm glad Ebrielle saw her parents last night. Taking the opportunity to practise her flying, she and Thane flew down
into the valley after dinner to Amber's parents' house. And on their return they found the seven dark forces waiting on the front deck. One after the other, the small fierce-looking angels, glowing like shooting stars, fell to their knees and swore fealty to her, promising to protect her for eternity.

Who would have thought?

A knock at the door is Thane. He pokes his head in. ‘Sorry, guys, but we need to get moving.'

‘Yeah, OK. Give us ten minutes?'

‘Sure. I thought it might be easier for Ebbie if you two were there when she says goodbye to Shadow.'

‘Oh hell,' Amber says.

‘If this is too hard for you, Amber –'

She doesn't let him finish. ‘No. I'll be there. Wait for us.'

We dress without talking. I've felt sadness before. Jeez, my mother died –
twice
. But I don't remember ever feeling like this – sluggish inside, with heavy limbs, unwilling to move.

We meet at the back door where the girls hug and walk to the stables arm in arm. Beside me, Thane looks grim.

I haven't had much to do with horses, but when the girls stop about halfway from the barn and glance at each other with startled expressions, I get the feeling this is gonna be harder than anyone imagined.

The girls start running. Thane takes off after them.

‘Hey, what's going on?' I call out. They're too busy opening gates and barn doors to answer, but then I hear it.

I've never heard a horse
cry
. It's a shock. It gets inside you. The shrieking, screaming noise Shadow is making leaves no doubt that the big guy knows exactly what's about to happen.

By the time I get there, Ebrielle and Amber are all over him, whispering, trying to stroke his head, but he's jumping around, lifting his front legs into the air, his eyes almost all white.