Feather: Book One Page 19

  He snorted, “That’s not really my top priority,” he looked at me, love boiling in his gaze, “You’re all that matters now. You are my life.” His face looked pained and urgent. “Besides, I put together a very convincing substitute lesson plan,” a grin returned to his smooth lips, “And in about two weeks, most will be going home for the winter anyways.”

  I looked at him confused, “But won’t they wonder where you went, where I went? Even just for the week?”

  His lips coiled in amusement, “Oh I’m still teaching, I just made a sort of hallucination of myself, a holographic replacement, sort of like a ghost.” Arrogance gripped his face, “And you, I told all your professors I was going to be teaching you personally because you needed the discipline, and you had a lot of potential.”

  I smiled back, feeling the small fire inside me keeping my delighted feelings alive through our obscured touch. The quiet of the woods was breathtaking and the snow was more than I could have ever imagined while back in Seattle.

  “Edgar?” my voice sounded angelic as it left my lips, “Will we ever die?” The cryptic question felt like an omen.

  His face sunk into a solemn line, “No.” Though it was a delightful idea, I could tell it had worn on him. “We will live forever,” he continued with a sudden smile, “together.”

  Despite his facial expression of both happiness and despair, his reply reassured me. The idea of eternal life seemed so sweet, but seeing Edgars suffering also offered me the bitter side, and the possibility of eternal pain. We rocked in silence as we both considered the matter to ourselves. Edgar’s grip tightened on my hand, almost crushing my fingers, but it felt safe. I felt so natural with him, so at home, and I was going to try my hardest to protect him as well.

  An hour passed of complete silence before Edgar finally stood, “Shall we get back?” his voice sounded distant.

  I nodded, swallowing hard as I pushed myself off the swing as the branches began to untangle as they relaxed back to their previous stance. The leaves withered and fell to the ground, leaving a blanket of rusty foliage at their base, slowly being buried in the snow that was now falling in heavy drifts.

  We crawled back onto the snowmobile and I wrapped my arms around Edgar, lacing one hand into his coat and pressing it gently against his ribs. I felt his heart racing as we took off and I rested my tender head against his back.

  When the trees finally opened into the meadow I sat up as I wondered how we’d get back inside. He was racing full speed toward the center of the opening as a sudden watery wall appeared before us. We crashed through the screen as it rippled and Edgar twisted the handlebars and the snowmobile began to skid, narrowly crashing into the back wall of the garage.

  I gasped, digging my fingers into his jacket. He cut the engine as he winced at my painful grip like a scared cat.

  “Geez Elle,” his face was contorted into a pained mask, “With that claw like grip I’d figured you found out how to become a raven again.”

  I laughed, “Yeah sure, I wish.” I rolled my eyes as he pried my hands apart.

  He twisted in his seat, throwing his legs around until he faced me. He placed his hands on my knees. “You will remember,” he breathed.

  Without hesitation he grabbed my face between his still gloved hands, his eyes a steady opalescent blue. He leaned in and pressed his lips against mine and our breathing became fast and urgent. His breath was intoxicating as our lips molded together and his hand moved to my back where he pressed his body against mine.

  I gave in as I grabbed at his coat, his grip now grasping mine in a way that seemed dangerous, as though trying to stop. I froze, stopping myself as I realized he may not. I gently pressed him away from me, placing my hands back into my lap as I quickly stood and backed away, a tightness forming in my chest and choking in my throat. Edgar was gripping the seat of the snowmobile, his face twisted as though ashamed. I pouted slightly before finally laughing as I noticed his navy eyes return, and the feeling in my chest subside.

  “It seems I do have the ability to save myself.” I put my hands on my hips with a smug smile.

  His face was still a little shocked, but melting as a smile emerged. “Good thing too,” he shook his head and stood, throwing his leg off the seat in a fog of emotion.

  He looked away, grabbing the cover and throwing it over the snowmobile. A look of satisfaction finally crossed his face as he grabbed my hood and pushed it off my head. “Thank you,” he whispered, leaning in and softly kissing my forehead with renewed control before slowly resting his head against mine, his frozen nose hooked in the angle of my brow. He lingered there for a moment before pulling back, his face fresh and his cheeks kissed by the wind.

  I smiled, “You’re welcome.”

  His eyes glittered slightly, “Are you hungry?”

  MATTHEW

  So what would you like?” Edgar stood across the gleaming copper counter from me, his long sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing his strong forearms.

  I had a thick silk and wool robe wrapped around me and my hair was still damp from the searing shower I’d subjected my chilled body to. My cheeks felt red hot and I was certain I was flushed from my body’ss need to overcompensate for the lack of warmth of being outside.

  I shrugged, unable to summon an idea, my stomach too hungry to think.

  His lips rounded and his eyes narrowed, “I know just the thing.” He went to the antique icebox where he retrieved three small blue eggs from within. He balanced them on the counter before untangling a towel in a basket to the far right and retrieving two pieces of bread.

  I watched him with a curious mind as I looked around the kitchen. Everything was covered in copper sheeting, from the counters to the antique Victorian hood that hung over an open fire, molded with a beautiful scene of two Ravens in a field of fruit. The kitchen was ‘U’ shaped and located just to the right as you walked from the front hall to the back of the house. The island I sat at was located in the middle of the space where two bar stools were bellied up on the outer left side.

  To my back was the sitting room he had brought me to the first night which looked through to the library that was toward the front of the house. The whole layout didn’t make much sense but being that the house was invisible in space, almost like part of a whole other dimension, I guess it didn’t have to.

  The fire crackled, filling the room with a warm smoky haze and an ambiance that made me feel cozy and safe. Edgar cracked the three eggs into a pan and set them close to the heat to cook. He then hung the bread in a basket above the flames to toast.

  He sighed, noticing me as I watched him, “I could never get used to the modern stoves. You just don’t get the same flavor.” Laughing, he strolled back toward me where he reached across the cold counter and cradled my hands between his.

  I smiled at him.

  “Have you begun to remember anything, about your former life?” he urged as I felt his toxicity pour through me.

  I searched my mind, finding it silent and clear. There were faint voices hanging in the distance, but I still could not match them with the faces that flashed like cards before my eyes. The house only seemed vaguely familiar, as though I knew my place here, but still couldn’t recall exact moments.

  “Sort of,” I crumpled my brow, “But none of it makes any sense.”

  His eyes were deeply faceted as they reflected the burning candles. He let go of my hand and gave me a crooked smile, standing back a bit and poising himself in a strange manner. I watched in amazement as he began to spin and there was a swift burst of energy as wind whipped around the room, papers and pans shaking in its wake.

  I gasped, a slight giggle bursting from my throat as the residual flame in me faded. Edgar stood on the counter before me, his eyes a beady blue and his pearly feathers glittering like glass. I reached out and carefully rubbed the feathers on his head, knowing that they were sharp. They instantly fluffed and my soul surged as a laugh echoed through the house.

  “You’re
so beautiful,” I announced with amaze.

  Edgar’s talons scratched against the copper as he spun before me, modeling his new look. As I looked at his claws I saw that counter was now deeply etched and I laughed.

  “You’re ruining your house!” I yelped and he lunged toward me, a sharp “caw!” escaping from his solid beak. “Okay, our house,” I giggled.

  He stepped back, his eyes blinking and his beak open.

  The raven that stood before me was no longer threatening or sinister. As I looked at him, my heart smiled. His beautiful armor was more stunning than the singular feather and his wings were strong and proud. He spread his wings and began slowly flapping them as he lifted off the counter and twisted back into his human form.

  Edgar ran his hands through his ruffled black hair, smiling slyly.

  “That’s so amazing!” I looked at him wide eyed, realizing how handsome he now looked. “I wish I could do that.”

  He smiled, “Of course you can.” He furled his brow, “But I don’t think you could do it without your soul back, it’s not like I could hold your hand through all the commotion. But I would love nothing more than to see you like that again.”

  I thought about it for a moment, “What is it exactly that you do?” I paused, clarifying my question, “To turn like that?”

  Edgar twisted to the fire and flipped the tiny eggs in the air, “You have to visualize it. See yourself as the raven and then feel your body being weightless.” He stood and returned to the counter.

  I glanced at him, finding it hard to envision his large body becoming weightless.

  “It’s a feeling that comes from inside, from your core.” He looked so passionate when he talked and I could see how it would be near impossible for me to accomplish the transformation like he’d said.

  “It’s like you’re indestructible, all your feathers are like knives.” I looked at my finger where I had previously cut myself.

  He knelt again and adjusted the eggs, “It’s pretty handy and certainly makes it easy to kill spies.”

  I shuddered, thinking of the sound that day in the meadow, the sounds of death.

  Isabelle landed on the counter next to me, startling me as she began clicking her tongue.

  Edgar snorted, “Greedy little thing aren’t you?” He gave her a reproachful smile. She clicked her tongue again as Edgar picked one fried egg up with a fork and tossed it to her.

  Her beak snapped as she dodged to catch the egg before it hit the counter. She tilted her head at me and her eyes were full of satisfaction as she seemed to wink. The egg hung from her mouth, flapping as she twisted her body around and took off, flying across the room and through the window between the sitting room and library where she twisted up through the loft ceiling to the railing above.

  Edgar grabbed two crystal plates from the cabinet, putting one toasted piece of bread on each. He then stabbed the eggs and placed one on each of the two toasts. He placed one plate on the counter before me, the robin’s egg small and delicate. I watched as he walked to the cabinet where he grabbed a bottle containing an amber liquid from deep within. He shook it gently before uncorking the top and I pushed my brows together in frustration, huffing with shock as he poured the thick syrup over my egg and toast.

  “What are you doing?” I squealed.

  He laughed, “Trust me, you love this. Just try it.”

  I winced as he pushed the plate that was swimming in maple syrup toward me. He handed me a fork with a mused grin on his face as he leaned down and put his elbows on the counter, cradling his head in his hands to watch.

  I eyed the plate he had sheltered between his arms with a hungry desire, his egg and toast void of syrup. With disdain, I lifted the fork to the center of the yolk, pressing down as it popped open, spilling its yellow goop into the syrup and over the bread. I gagged slightly and Edgar forced back a choked laugh.

  With extreme apprehension, I brought a small piece to my mouth, the smell surprisingly sweat and almost smoky. As I touched it to my tongue, I furled my brow as I concentrated on the taste alone, ignoring the texture completely. Chewing with determination, I found myself utterly surprised. The flavors were beyond amazing and the sweet syrup mixed with the thick yolk and grainy bread burst across my mouth, hitting every taste bud.

  My eyebrows shot up. “Wow.”

  Edgar’s hearty laugh filled the room as he put his hands on his stomach to calm his breathing. “I told you,” he snorted, “I guess I know you better than you know yourself.” He gave me a playful wink.

  Still skeptical of the egg I took another bite, finding it as gorgeous as before. “Well when you don’t even know yourself, that’s not very hard,” I added with a full mouth.

  Edgar nodded in compliance, “Very true.”

  Later that afternoon, I quietly sat in my room with a dozen journals lying open around me. There was no sound anywhere except that of my furtive swallows as I scanned my words with grit, trying hard to remember my life. Every entry was loaded with emotion and happiness. The discovery of my gift, the way it grew over time, and then the day that I even created this forest with my talents of nature.

  And then there was the end where my writing turned sinister and scared. I flipped through the pages, my heart pounding hard in my chest, as though remembering the feeling and the uncertainty. It was suspenseful as the last few entries turned frantic and short,

  October 10th, 1708

  He’s coming closer. I can feel his hunger in my soul. My mind is fogging. The evil that seeps from his blood is dark and sinister, a hundred souls dying because of his thirst. Edgar seems unfazed, but he’s the rock, my protector, I just hope when the time comes, I’ll know what to do…

  That was the last thing I wrote. I gave myself no clues, no way of knowing how to unlock my soul and get it back. I looked toward the paintings on the wall. How could I give up this life so easily, how could my stubborn heart surrender before the fight?

  Closing my eyes, I slowly brought each remembered image back into my peripherals, noting the facial structures and mannerisms of each. One face kept flashing into my view, someone deeply disturbed, with eyes so hollow he may as well be nothing more than a corpse. The memory caused a fear to well in my chest, and it began tightening my lungs as I tried hard to remember his name.

  As the image lingered, I remembered what Edgar had told me, the name of the sorcerer that had come for us and had murdered so many others. Deep in the back of my mind I uttered the words as the face nearly fell away, Matthew. My heart lurched as a fire seared through it and I struggled to hide the pain. I closed my eyes and forced myself to concentrate on the face, making myself recall the horrible day I’d suppressed so painfully.

  There was a soft knock on my door and I snapped out of my mind, instinctually wrapping my robe around me even tighter. Edgar peeked in and then entered the room, afraid to startle me again. He was freshly shaved and now wore a finely tailored suit as my eyes fell upon him with hunger. I had never seen him look so handsome, so beautiful.

  “Am I disturbing you?” He looked sheepish and alone, tired of spending time by himself for so long. It was unfair of me to lock myself up here, away from him. I could see in his face he was desperate to see me, desperate to spend time with me and have me back.

  I shook my head.

  He leisurely approached my bed, sitting on the edge, “I was bored,” a smile crept onto his face, his powerful back slouching over slightly.

  The candles in the room came to life with the sudden receding daylight. I looked around at the new light that was now cast upon the walls and his face took on a romantic warm hue.

  “I had an idea,” he looked at me with fire in his eyes. He eagerly stood and walked to the boudoir where he opened it with a lingering reservation as though I were still gone, as though he was still afraid to disturb that past life. I heard him rustle through bolts of fabric before finally halting as he pulled a massive sapphire blue pile from within.

  I gave him a strange, alm
ost disgusted look, “Exactly what are you proposing?”

  He smirked, “I’m not proposing anything. We hardly know each other. Something like that would probably be irresponsible.”

  I nervously exhaled at his reference to marriage, and a notion crossed my mind that hadn’t before. I had never thought to really bring it up, nor did I really want to, but a part of me still wondered if we’d ever been married. There was nothing that I had found in the journals, but there had also been missing pages.

  As he held the gown in his grasp I saw that his face was hiding something, something I figured he’d know I’d refuse to do. “I was just wondering if you’d like to dance,” he said lightly, a look I couldn’t refuse crossing his face.

  I snorted, “Yeah right, I’ve never danced in my life.”

  He gave me a skeptical glare. I knew I’d loved to dance, my journals spoke of nothing else, but I still figured I’d try to deny it. There was no way my current self could recall dance moves. I faked a smile as he tilted his head and gave me a look of disbelief.

  “Oh come on,” his eyes flashed with a seduction I couldn’t deny. “It will be fun.”

  I sighed and gave in, figuring it was better to do physical activities to try and jog my memory rather than just sit here locked in my room, desperately searching books and trying to force it from my blocked mind.

  Crawling from the bed, I grabbed the pile of silk and gave him a sulking look of surrender as I stormed behind the screen. He laughed at my less-than-thrilled attitude as he watched me storm off, diligently standing on the other side of the makeshift wall and waiting as I wrestled with the fabric.

  I finally slid the bodice over my chest and reached to try and fasten the string when I froze. Edgar bravely walked around the screen behind me and I could feel his gaze as he watched me. For a moment we just stood there in silence, and then slowly, his fingers touched the small of my back, tracing up my spine before finally resting at my neck. I shuddered, giving in to his soft warm touch.