A Strange Hymn
Page 13

He slaps the top of the marble railing between us. “Step up here.”
A disbelieving laugh slips out. “No way.”
“Callie,” he says, sounding disappointed, “I’m wounded. I would never lead you astray.”
Says the man who taught me to drink and gamble. I think he needs to tighten up his definition of astray.
When I stay rooted in place, he says, “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
I fold my arms over my chest, not budging.
His eyes brighten with excitement. There are few things Des enjoys more than my defiance. Unfortunately for me, it never gets me very far with him.
I feel the breath of his magic at my back, forcing me forward and then propelling me onto the edge of the balcony in front of him.
“You are such a bastard,” I say as I climb onto it. Up here the wind is blustery enough to shake my body and whip my hair about.
From the other side of the railing, Des grabs my waist, bracing me. He grins up at me like a pirate. “Sticks and stones, Callie. Now,” he gives my sides a squeeze, “open those wings for me again.”
Ignoring all my better judgement, I do as he asks. A gust of wind blows against me, lifting my wings up.
“You feel that?” the Bargainer asks, studying my every reaction. “That’s an air current. We’ll be using them to travel.”
“Can I get down now?”
Des’s lips quirk mischievously. “Cherub, the next surface your feet touch will be in a different city.”
I feel my face pale. I shake my head. “I’m not ready.”
“Yes, you are.”
Des’s wings spread wide behind him, and wind tugs at his T-shirt and hair.
Right now, right in this moment, I’m sure I’m in a dream. He’s too wild, too beautiful, too fantastical to be mine, and what he’s asking me to do is too strange and unbelievable to be real.
“Fly,” he says, releasing my waist. Power rides his words, pulling my wings into position.
Before I can object, he spreads his arms out to either side of him. It happens in slow motion, his body tipping away from me and the balcony, the night poised to swallow him whole. His feet slide off the ledge, and then he’s falling.
“Des!” I reach for him reflexively.
My body pitches forward, and I lose my balance. Suddenly, there is no more balcony railing to perch on. There is nothing but empty air beneath me.
Des smiles as he stares up at me, completely at peace with the fact that we’re falling. And then, right in the middle of our descent, he vanishes.
Vanishes.
I’m left staring down the palace grounds a hundred feet below, and Des is nowhere to be seen.
Oh God, I’m fucked. So, so fucked. This isn’t flying, this is the art of dying, and the one person who got me into this mess is gone.
I guess I now have my answer to that stupid “rhetorical” question: if a friend asked you to jump, would you?
Apparently, twat-waffle that I am, I would.
Des’s magic still encircles my wings, tugging at them. I grit my teeth and begin to follow their lead, angling them to catch some of the wind. The force of my descent makes it difficult to control my movements.
Floor after floor of the palace blur by me, the ground quickly zooming up. I continue to fight the wind that’s trying to fold up my wings, Des’s magic aiding me. Just as I’m beginning to think it’s hopeless, my fall begins to slow.
I let instinct take over, continuing to tilt my wings to level me out. I go from falling to cutting into the wind, my body beginning to glide over the ground rather than plummet towards it.
I’m pretty sure I’m no longer going to fall to my death, but I’m still not exactly flying. I’m more like that autumn leaf that gets blown about by a gust of wind.
Out of nowhere, Des manifests beneath me, his hands moving to my waist. “Beat your wings, love.”
I can barely hear him over the whistle of the wind in my ear, but I begin to force my wings up and down, up and down.
I wobble, and for a few seconds I worry that I’m going to lose whatever gains I’ve made and plunge the rest of the way to the ground. But now Des is beneath me, making sure I don’t do exactly that.
Slowly, steadily, my wings propel me up. Des releases me as I break away from him, rising higher and higher in the air.
Holy crap, I’m flying.
A shocked laugh escapes me. It’s more exhilarating than I could’ve imagined. I hit a warm air current, and then I’m gliding, the thermal carrying me on its own.
A shadow with wicked-looking wings swoops in next to me. I glance over at the Bargainer, his white hair rippling in the air. He smiles at me, and it lights up his entire face.
“Follow me!” The wind snatches away his words, but I read his lips.
He pulls ahead then banks right, his body arcing across the sky, those giant wings of his gleaming dangerously in the moonlight. If I thought he was fantastical before, it has nothing on him now. Des is magic, and somehow, through some odd twist of fate, I get to be a part of that magic.
I follow his lead, adjusting my wings to curve through the air like his do. I laugh again, my heart so much lighter now that I’m officially flying.
Des is still on my shit list for scaring me almost literally to death, but this might be worth it; it might even be worth the fear and loathing I endured in the days after I received my wings.
I follow Des until he drops back, and then the two of us are gliding next to each other. There’s nothing quite like the silence up here in the sky. The wind is too loud for us to talk, and yet everything has a quiet pall to it.
Every so often, Des points to something or other. Once, it’s a troop of pixies, another time it’s the faintest pattern of lights far, far below us where I imagine one of the other kingdoms of the Otherworld—kingdoms that don’t float in the sky—are located.
He even gestures to a fae couple I glimpse out in the distance, their bodies largely hidden in the clouds. I can only just see a mismatched pair of glittering wings, and two intertwined legs, and then the clouds move, obscuring them from view.
I notice one or two more of these couples as we fly. Judging by their embraces, they’re lovers who’ve snuck away to be together under the starlight and clouds.
After what must be an hour or two, I make out a giant landmass ahead of us, blocking out a segment of the night sky.
Another floating island! Just like Somnia.
As we get closer, I begin to notice the city lights, which twinkle in pale pastel colors.
Next to me, Des begins to descend, angling himself towards the floating island.
It’s only once we’re flying over it that I truly get a sense of the place. It’s a land of turrets and motes, towers and bridges. They flash by me as we glide across the landscape. Interspersed between the buildings are huge swaths of foliage. This far away I can’t tell whether they’re fields or forests, jungles or manicured parks.
As we get closer, I begin to notice the idiosyncrasies of this island. Buildings seem to change size and shape the moment you peel your gaze away, streets lead to nowhere. Even the colors of this place are somehow both brighter and duller than they should be. It looks like a fairytale and a carnival all wrapped into one, and yet … it’s as though everything is not quite as it should be.
No one looks at us as we begin to land. We’re just two more fairies in this strange land.
Des glides to a stop, gracefully lowering himself to the ground.