Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Lena
I’m sticking out like a highlighter in neon athletic wear in the middle of the Sciathán practice field behind the gym.
I wait, among the rest of the Convalescere student body, for our Flight brown, bronze, and gold ones like the wings of hawks and other birds of prey, angled sharply for agility and speed; sinewy and fibrous bat-like wings; wings with claws and sharp talons; and wings made of gray and silver scales that look almost like stone.
Gemma is an actual freakin’ angel. “Holy shit, Gemma, you’re beautiful!” Sprouting from her back are lovely cream-colored wings with veins of rose gold that match her strawberry highlights. I’ve never seen something so stunning. “Wait, where do you keep them?”
She blushes and laughs. “Inside me.” She points to her chest. “Where our magic lives. We manifest them. Get yours out.” Her brow creases in concern.
“I don’t think I have them.” I worry my bottom lip.
“All Convalescere have them, except for jinn. They float using stygian magic,” she explains. “Just picture your wings and connect to your magic.”
I’m pretty dubious about this. I don’t know where my magic is, and I never saw Dmitri use magic.
I shut my eyes and try to feel around inside myself for something foreign, something that feels not human.
Searching my body for the sensation of extra limbs, I picture growing wings like Gemma’s, feathery and light with iridescent shimmers.
“Did I do it?” My eyes crack open one at a time. Gemma gives a small shake of her head. Yeah, I didn’t think so.
“How’s it going over here, ladies?” Professor Falk asks.
“I’ve never gotten my wings out before. I don’t know how to do it. Or even if I have wings. I still kind of think Kian was making this whole thing up as some weird joke.” I raise my hands in uncertainty.
“King Amani doesn’t really joke,” Falk says, with a deep laugh. Kian definitely jokes. The first thing he said to me was a joke. “You must be Vladlena?”
“Yeah, just Lena.”
“Okay, Just Lena, well, you’re going to be behind, and I’m sorry for that. But before you can do most of this class, we gotta get your wings out and the basics down.”
I frown and fist my hands. While I understand what she’s saying, I hate that I’m behind in everything already.
“Don’t fret, you came to the right place to learn how to access your wings! No better person to teach you. Can I let you in on a little secret?” she asks, and I nod before she leans in. “I served under your great-grandparents for my first two years after my institute days.”
My jaw drops. “You knew my great-grandparents?” I never met them or my grandparents.
“Yes, and I met your grandmother once,” she confirms. “But we can chat about that another time. Now it’s sky-time, fly-time!”
After twenty minutes of Gemma trying to tutor me, Professor Falk instructs her to join the other students, while I continue picturing myself as a bird.
Little coveting creatures stir in my diaphragm as I watch Katri and her friends as they soar above on pastel-colored wings.
While every other student begins to play some kind of sky version of volleyball, I’m stuck on the ground, like an awkward little penguin.
Boden soars high above the rest of the students, his golden hair shining in the hazy, muted sunlight.
His wings put everyone else’s to shame. They’re by far the largest, stretching at least twelve feet across.
Completely white on the underside yet the topside is a beautiful bronze, patterned with veins of iridescent shimmer.
Like someone painted a golden eagle’s wings in gold leaf.
He’s breathtaking in his grace. No, breath-stealing.
He’s the kind of lethal beauty that clogs your throat and demands penance in the form of your own exhalation.
“So it’s true that half humans can’t fly?” a girl with a nasally voice and warm honey hair taunts from a few feet above me. I recognize her as one of Katri’s friends, who I suspect participated in pushing me into the lake yesterday.
“Aww, Hally, be nice to the little Dodo.” Katri soars up to her with her white-and-pale-blue-feathered wings stretched wide. “Don’t you know flightless birds quickly go extinct? She’s likely not long for this world.”
“Thanks for believing in me, Kaitlyn,” I yell up at Katri, purposely getting her name wrong, knowing it’ll piss her off.
“It’s Katri. As in Katri Astor.” Hally flies down to get into my face. “You know, as in the family the auditorium on campus is named after, as in her dad is literally the Convalescere Regent, as in likely your future queen. Show some respect, Dodo.”
Queen? Ew, gross. “You got it, Queen Kristy,” I say with a mock salute.
“Come on, Hally, they’re picking teams, and I know Boden is going to want me on his.” Katri throws me a sneering roll of her eyes. “Love all the neon, Vladlena.” She smirks and flies off.
Irritated and hungry for vindication, I try to force myself to grow wings.
This is it. This is my victory moment. The point in a movie when the main character overcomes the challenge.
I can see myself growing expansive shining wings, larger than even Boden’s, just to spite her.
I’m sure it’s set to an inspirational pop soundtrack, something like “Man in Motion” from St Elmo’s Fire or, better yet, Smash Mouth’s “All Star” from the cinematic masterpiece Shrek!
I squeeze my eyes shut and strain to push my wings out of my body, but the only thing it does is make me feel like I need to poop.
At dinner, to distract myself from the swirling worries about my family’s history with Sidera and the fact that I definitely can’t fly, I ask Aki, Naomi, and Gemma every question I can think of about the realm.
I will not be caught off guard again. I learn that most magicae come into their powers at puberty, though some later.
I’m hoping I’m in the “some later” category.
Then, right after that, I’m chastised that it’s not “powers,” it’s “talents” or “abilities.” Power refers to the strength of one’s abilities.
After the talking-to I got from Gemma, I won’t be making that mistake again.
Aki explains that magicae with elemental magic can usually wield one and in rare occasions two elements.
Naomi tells me about Sciathán, which is the realm’s only college and major league sport.
It is apparently a very big deal. It’s especially helpful that Naomi is half human so that she can explain everything in terms I understand.
“Oh, you know what else is really different?” Naomi says in between bites of her bánh mi. “Murder. It’s frowned upon in most circumstances, but, like, it’s not illegal per se, as long as it’s one-on-one and everyone involved is an adult.”
“I’m sorry, what?!?” I nearly spit-take my iced tea.
“In Transformare, for example, challenges to pack hierarchy might end up in death,” she expounds.
“Two magicae can decide to engage in a challenge for whatever reason, and sometimes they fight to the death. Or, like in Devorare, a vampire might kill someone when feeding. Which shows a lack of self-control, but it’s not wholly illegal. ”
I also learn the uncomfortable fact that magicae are extremely difficult to kill. Apparently, it requires an immense amount of effort. One would have to be beheaded and dismembered or fall from a great height so that all their major organs were vaporized at once.
“Okaayyy, anything else?” I ask, while trying my damnedest not to picture the scene of Dmitri’s death.
“We have many more family structures than the nuclear family that is so popular in human countries.” Naomi clarifies, “I grew up in a pack. My dad was alpha, the leader. And obviously he had a human mate, which is rare but not totally unheard of. I grew up on the same compound with, like, forty of my aunts and uncles and over a hundred cousins. It’s very nonhuman. ”
“Fae families are pretty diverse,” Aki explains. “A lot of Elementum magicae are polyamorous. I have two dads and a mom.”
“Yeah, actually the whole human hang-up on sexuality being so rigid isn’t really a thing,” Naomi elucidates.
Humans could learn from magicae on that.
“It’s kind of hard to have such a strict belief in invariable sexuality when your mate could be any gender,” she adds.
“What does that mean?” I take a bite of my delicious pan bagnat. I’m never going to look at a tuna sandwich the same again.
Gemma jumps in, “If you’re lucky enough to find a mate or multiple mates, you don’t get to choose who they are.”
“But what exactly is a mate?” I ask.
Gemma’s mouth hangs open in astonishment.
“It’s the most romantic thing you can ever experience.
” She sighs. “Finding your mate is like finding the other half of your soul. They’re someone who’s made completely for you and you for them.
You’re destined to be together. Once you both accept the bond, you share a deep, unbreakable, and magical connection for eternity. ”