***
As soon as they’d piled in through the door and slammed it shut, Vicky locked and bolted it and turned on every light she could reach. Demi tried to hide her disdain – just a little bit of magic, she thought, no need to freak out. Heledd guided Vicky to the kitchen, a reassuring hand on her shoulder, chatting calmly as she picked up the kettle. Before filling it she asked Demi if she wanted a hot drink, not knowing how much Demi loathed them. Coffee was rank; tea for old ladies; cocoa for kids. Thankfully Vicky’s mum always kept cola in the fridge for her niece. She poured herself a glass, noticing the way Heledd looked at her as if she was cooking up heroin on a spoon. Heledd was nice, Demi had decided, but she was such a health freak, she seemed to be made of oats. She even dressed like a Weetabix, in that knobbly brown cardigan – not a good idea when you’re so short and square. But she was taking care of Vicky, so Demi decided to leave them to it, and announced she was going to bed. Heledd actually called after her to brush her teeth as she climbed the stairs, going on about how cola would rot them. As if Demi had nothing better to do...
The spare bedroom had been Demi’s second home for years. Despite the 7 year age difference, Demi and Vicky had always been close cousins, neither having siblings. The duvet and curtains were new, but it was still full of all the bits and pieces she’d accumulated over the years.
She closed the door tight behind her – she did not want to be disturbed. Kneeling on the bed, she drew back the curtains, and opened the window, careful of the lotions and potions she’d arranged along the window ledge. As the moonlight streamed onto her skin, once more she felt the tingle and smell of magic. Fabulous!
Closing her eyes, she tilted her face to the moon, letting its power flow into her. As she gripped the windowsill, she felt the moonlight tickling her knuckles, and looking down she noticed the sparkling edge to her shadow. She rippled her fingers in the eerie light, watching their shadows dance and throw off sparks. She turned and tried to make a rabbit shape on the bedroom wall, but it looked deformed, so she linked her thumbs instead, and flapped her hands like wings. The cosmetic bottles cast a tiny Manhattan on the wall, and she flew her strange, giant bird above the shadow skyscrapers.
The giant bird paused. Among the shadows was something else bird-shaped. She moved her hands down until the shadows touched.
She realised where, and what, it was.
Slowly she turned her head, until she saw the figure on the windowsill beside her. Just a doll, she thought. Just a little doll with wings.
‘Hello, Blackbird,’ she said.
She held out her hand to him and he took her index finger, kissing it gently where she had earlier caught it on the brambles.
‘Hello, Demali,’ he replied.
‘What the hell happened tonight? What did you do?’ she asked.
He slipped from the windowsill onto her pillow, and told her a story.