Chapter 14 #2
“Don’t be weird,” was all he said, and then he quickly strapped into his board and took off into the air.
Ember and Killian followed suit, and then the three of them began flying circles around the orchard.
Ember held her breath as she climbed higher in the air, closing her eyes as the wind whipped her braid around her head.
In the air, she didn’t have to worry about anything—not school or the kidnappings or how hard she was trying to acclimate to her new life.
She just had to be, and that was the most freeing feeling in the world.
After a few laps, Fen motioned for them to meet in the center of the orchard, hovering just a few feet above the trees.
“Okay, Em, you know how to do hairpin turns, right?” Fen said, as he flipped a Brazul back and forth in his gloved hands.
“Um, maybe?” she replied, not quite as confident as she intended.
Killian smirked as he lazily flew up beside her and squeezed her shoulder.
“Here, I’ll show you,” he replied, and before she could argue, he sped off toward the end of the orchard.
He bent forward, hands gripping the edges of his board as he inched closer to the edge of the tree line.
One moment, he was flying forward, and the next he had made a complete one hundred and eighty degree turn without slowing or stopping, flying back toward Fen and Ember.
“Well done, mate!” Fen cheered, as he slapped Killian on the shoulder. “Your turn, Em.”
Ember swallowed dryly as she gave a nod, flexing her hands at her sides. “Should I maybe watch for a minute more?”
Killian furrowed his brow. “You’ve done things a lot scarier than a simple hairpin turn this summer,” he said. “Don’t think about it too much.”
Ember felt her ears burn hot as she nodded again.
It wasn’t the flying that scared her, or even the turn.
Killian was right. She had done turns and flips all summer long much higher than this.
But at that point, it wasn’t training—not to her anyway.
It was a fluid feeling, like the breath the swam through her lungs.
There was a freedom in being up in the clouds, like everything that weighed her down couldn’t reach her up there.
She took a shaky breath, rolling her shoulders as she flexed both her hands at her sides.
This felt different, more rigid, and she was having trouble ignoring the tightness in her chest.
She sped off, almost as quickly as Killian had, toward the edge of the trees.
Her breathing became rapid as she reached the end of the orchard, and even though she had done it a hundred times before, her board began to wobble underneath her.
She crouched low to grab the rails, but it didn’t make a difference.
She slowed to a steady pace, taking the turn at a speed even Maeve would’ve laughed at, and then sped back to the other end, face burning from embarrassment.
Fen gave her a sympathetic smile as she approached.
“Should we work drills now?” he said as he tried to change the subject. “Maybe two against one?”
Ember sighed as she rubbed her forehead. “Maybe we can take a break. Get some water and relax?”
“Relax?” Fen said, as he furrowed his brow. “Tryouts are a week away. There’s not time to relax!”
“Calm down, mate,” Killian said, as he patted his friend on the back. “Fifteen minutes won’t set her any further back than she already is.”
Ember narrowed her eyes as the boys laughed, making their way down to the ground again and unhooking their feet from their boards. They piled under their favorite tree, and Killian plucked an apple from one of the low hanging branches and took a bite.
”We’ve got plenty of time to practice,” Fen said, as Killian tossed an apple in his direction. “You’ll just have to come over a few more times after school and maybe on the weekend after tryouts. We’ll get you there.”
Ember’s heart splintered as he beamed. ”Fen, I can’t just spend all of my time here,” she said quietly, as she shook her head.
”Sure you can,” he shrugged. “Mum would love it and so would Maeve. There’s plenty of room. You’re family after all.”
”But I’m not,” she snapped. “I have a family now—a real family—and I can’t spend all of my time away from them just because you miss me. I’m not your sister anymore, Fenrir.”
Fen’s face fell, and Ember’s heart seemed to crack again, guilt filling all of the spaces. She hadn’t meant to bite his head off, but he needed to understand.
”I’ve missed the last decade with them,” she said, a little more gently this time. “I have to rebuild my relationship with them. I can’t be here as much anymore. I just can’t.”
Fen’s throat bobbed as he nodded. Silence filled the air around them as he averted his eyes, fidgeting with the Brazul he pulled out of his pocket.
“Your mum mentioned Siris earlier,” Ember said, trying desperately to change the subject and avoid another moment of awkward silence. “That’s your brother, right?”
Fen stiffened beside her, just barely, and dropped the ball on the grass. He quickly picked it back up, stuffing it in the leather case and into his pocket. “Older brother,” he mumbled with a nod.
“Where is he?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, as he shook his head.
Killian sighed as he took another bite of his apple. “It’s just Ember,” he said, as he rolled his eyes. “You can tell her—”
“I said it doesn’t matter,” Fen spat, more angrily than Ember was expecting. “Talking doesn’t bring people back. And besides, she’s not family, so it doesn’t concern her.”
Ember flinched as if he had physically punched her in the stomach. She deserved that, she supposed. There was ire in his words, but behind the flame, she could see the hurt—the grief. Whether that was for her or his brother, she wasn’t sure.
She sank back against the tree. She knew better than anyone how painful some memories could be, that even talking about them could hurt worse than the original injury—like splitting open a wound and pouring vinegar directly into the vein.
She didn’t say anything, just reached over to squeeze his hand.
They would find some way to navigate all this pain together.
“So, what was that about with Oryn yesterday?” Fen asked, quickly changing the subject, eyes still glued to the grass in front of him.
“Hell if I know.” Killian shrugged. “Nothing good, I reckon. That whole lot has been acting especially odd here lately.”
“Odd?” Ember asked, as she furrowed her brow.
“Aye,” Killian nodded, “this isn’t the first little meeting I’ve gotten wind of, just the first I’ve been invited to.”
“You don’t think they could have something to do with all of this, could they?
” Ember asked, as her eyes widened. The thought that a parent—someone with children of their own—could be the cause of so much grief for other families was almost too hard to believe.
But with their connections and the way Veda and Oryn acted even at school, maybe they weren’t too far off.
“Anything’s possible, Starshine,” Killian grimaced. “Maybe I’ll pop by my uncle’s house this weekend and see what this little meeting is all about.” He chewed thoughtfully on his apple.
“Please be careful,” she whispered, as she chewed on her bottom lip.
Killian smirked as he shot her a wink. “I always am.”
“Ugh, gross,” Fen grimaced. “Can you please not do that in front of me?”
Ember laughed, her chest growing lighter as the boys tried to tackle each other, resulting in a tangled mess of limbs flailing about the ground.
The invisible tether that connected the three thrummed in her chest, and peace washed over her, a peace she hadn’t fully felt since she left the farm.
As soon as she felt it, the feeling was immediately replaced by guilt.
It was the strangest sensation—like she was homesick for a place she no longer got to call home.
Maeve’s distant laughter filled the air as the smell of soda bread floated from the house, and Ember’s chest tightened as she wrapped her arms around her knees.
This wasn’t home anymore, and it never would be again.