“You know why I’m saying no, Tate,” her father, Caleb, said in his level tone. “You’re not yet eighteen. Leaving the area of protection around our home would be very unsafe. You can’t bring forth your wings yet.”
She looked up at him, fighting against the instinctive pout that she knew wouldn’t help her cause. “Only because you won’t let me try,” she countered.
He gave her The Look. It was one he had mastered over the years, and she felt her shoulders hunching against it. Huffing out a sigh, she rolled her eyes and said, “Okay, fine. So I’ve tried. But that doesn’t mean I’d be helpless out there. I’d be with Quincy and Sophia, and they won’t be very far outside the area of protection. Don’t you trust Quincy?”
Her father gave her another look, this one telling her that she was losing her touch. “I certainly do trust Quincy. He brought you into this world and he would protect you to his death. Is that what you want?”
She pursed her lips in frustration. He knew she wasn’t going to say yes to that. Refusing to give up, she said, “What I want is for you to trust my ability to defend myself. I’ve been trained to do so since I was old enough to hold a weapon. I know very well that mom only trained for a few months after she transitioned to this plane before she helped you defeat Grolkinei. So I’m curious as to just when you’re going to consider me ready.”
Now, her father’s dark blue eyes seemed to take her measure. Then he acknowledged, “Well played.”
“Thank you.”
“But it doesn’t change my mind.”
“But, Dad—”
“No, Tate. My answer is final.” He reached out and tugged on one of her many bouncy curls—curls that resembled his outside of their coloring. “You offered a sound argument. But the last thing that Quincy and Sophia need is a distraction while they’re outside the area of protection. That would defeat the purpose of their efforts. On top of that, my concern for your safety won’t ease until you’re eighteen, and even then, I’m your father. I love you and I’ll always worry about you.”
Her frown softened at the words, but she still found the disappointment hard to swallow. She knew that she was ready to experience more of the world. How could he not feel the same? “I wouldn’t be a distraction,” she grumbled. “They wouldn’t even know I was there. You’re going to have to learn to trust my abilities at some point, Dad.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve lived a much more sheltered life than your mother and your aunts did, Tate. You don’t understand it yet, but you’re a much younger seventeen than they were.” His lips curved into a smile that eased the sting of his words. “When you’re really ready to leave the area of protection, you’ll understand what I’m saying.
“The bottom line is that you might be the oldest of all your siblings by five minutes, but you’re not the oldest of your cousins. Clara Kate and Sophia will experience certain things before you and Tiege do. But that won’t make those experiences any less special for you when it’s your turn. Before you know it, we’ll be taking you and Tiege out for your first attempt at flying.”
At the mention of her twin brother, Tate shifted her gaze to the training paddock. Located within equal walking distance of her family’s home, her Aunt Olivia and Uncle James’ home, and her Aunt Amber and Uncle Gabriel’s home, the paddock was used by all three families. Tiege even now trained with Uncle James in the use of the blessed kamas gifted to him by the elders. The sickle-like weapons gleamed white in the sun as he worked through his weapon forms under their uncle’s careful eye. A number of their siblings and cousins also performed various stages of training with her Uncle Gabriel and Aunt Amber. The younger children were at school and engaged in studies with Aunt Olivia at this time of day.
When she opened her mouth as a thought struck her, her father said, “And no, I won’t let you go even if Tiege is with you.”
Deflated, she now did allow her face to fall into a pout. “Fine,” she huffed. She turned to stride down the slope leading to the paddock, figuring she’d work off her irritation in a contest with her brother.
“Tate.”
She stopped and glanced back at her father. Even if he hadn’t been standing higher on the slope than her, she’d have to look up to meet his gaze. His sculpted Gloresti musculature combined with his height made him a very imposing figure. She had always found that comforting, however. And when he now gave her a knowing look and waved her back up the slope, she felt a layer of her irritation slide away.
Giving up, she walked over to him and let him draw her into a consoling hug. He had never allowed one of his children to walk away on a harsh or angry word. Since she knew she pressed him more than any of her siblings did, she could only appreciate that.
Even if she did think he was being ridiculous and overprotective.
“I’m eager for you to find your wings, too,” he said, the sound of the words a rumble in her ear where it rested against his chest. “You’re my firstborn. I can’t wait for you to experience what it is to fly…to achieve another milestone of your existence. But it’s only a few more weeks.”
More composed now, she pulled away from the hug and caught his gaze. “I know, Dad. You’re just trying to look out for me. And I love you, too.”
This time, when she pulled away and headed toward the training paddock, he let her go.
“How did our babies suddenly get to be approaching their eighteenth birthdays?”
Caleb kept his gaze on his daughter’s retreating figure as his wife, Skye, walked up beside him and took his hand. He watched the sparkling, fluffy, knee-length skirt that Tate wore over her cargo-style pants spring up with every step, just as her multi-colored, beaded curls bounced in their high ponytail. She had the tall and curvy build of a grown female, but many things about her remained achingly young.
In response to his wife’s question, he just shook his head and gave her hand a squeeze, having no answer. It did seem just yesterday that he was a neurotic mass of nerves awaiting the births of Tate and Tiege, and now here the twins were, mere weeks from learning to fly. The time had passed much too quickly, even for a being who didn’t physically age.
Tate, in particular, was growing up more quickly than he could handle. As his firstborn child, she certainly held a special place in his heart. And her free, uninhibited spirit so resembled her mother’s that he couldn’t help but love her all the more for it. But she worried him, too. Where her twin was content to follow the rules, she consistently bent them.
“I had the dream again.”
Now he looked down at Skye. Her light blue gaze was centered on the paddock. As usual, she wore her long, softly curling brown hair down, and it caught in the breeze, allowing the sunlight to reflect on its beautiful red and gold highlights. Her fitted, knee-length sundress formed a swirl of rainbow-bright hues centered right over her round belly. Their next set of twins was due in about two months. Unlike her sisters, Skye was prone to multiple births. This would be their third set of twins.
I know, he thought, taking advantage of their ability to share thoughts as an avowed couple. I had the same dream.
Tate asked you if she could go with Quincy and Sophia, didn’t she? Skye thought.
He nodded. “I told her no, of course,” he said.
“And we’ll keep an eye on her tomorrow?”
“Of course. As always.”
Such concern when expressed by other parents might have seemed overprotective, he supposed, watching Tate join Tiege’s training session. Her blessed nunchucks whirled and winked in the light as the twins sparred.
But then, most parents didn’t dream of the future.
The dream he shared with Skye had been recurring more and more regularly ever since their niece, Clara Kate, transitioned to the human plane a couple of months ago. In the dream, Tate was alone and outside the area of protection that surrounded their homeland. An unseen attacker took her off-guard, grasping her in a brutal grip and disorienting her. When she finally realized what was happen
ing, her terror was devastating.
But it was the end of the dream that caused Caleb to wake up in a cold sweat with an agonized cry in his throat. It had his normally positive and cheerful wife looking sad and worried. And it served as the reason why they absolutely couldn’t let Tate have her way when it came to her request to venture out with Quincy and Sophia.
For they had both foreseen their firstborn daughter’s death.
Chapter 2
The following day, Tate visited Quincy in the clinic attached to the cottage he kept not far from the training paddock. He called the cottage home whenever he visited her family’s homeland, which occurred at least every three years, when her mom and aunts all got pregnant. A long-time family friend with extensive medical training on both the Estilorian and human planes, he attended all of the births of the Kynzesti…the children of the daughters of Saraqael and the newest Estilorian class.
Although each of the families had gladly offered him room in one of their homes, he insisted that he didn’t want to impose. Plus, even though the homes sat relatively close to each other, the cottage boasted a nice central location that made it easier for him to get to any of the expecting mothers. And since it contained a fully stocked clinic, the fact that it was located near the training paddock helped, too. Aunt Amber and Uncle Gabriel weren’t always around when someone needed healing.
Tate privately thought that Quincy preferred the solitude over trying to get any peace in a houseful of other beings, something she well understood.
Right now, she wandered around the clinic while Quincy stocked a satchel with every conceivable kind of medical implement. The sunlight coming in through the two windows in the room glinted on his blond hair as he leaned over the satchel resting on one of the examination tables in the center of the room. Although he usually wore his hair short, it was presently long enough to brush the back of his neck with a noticeable curl. It nearly touched the neckline of his black tank top. She personally liked the way the longer hairstyle complemented the lines of his handsome face, though she knew he’d change back to the shorter style before too long.
When he turned again to one of the many cabinets lining the walls, the sun also gleamed on the silver markings lining his broad shoulders and the backs of his muscular arms. The markings were a result of his transitions to the human plane. As a Corgloresti, he was a harvester of human souls, the only way full Estilorians had to reproduce, since Estilorian females didn’t have the same reproductive systems as humans. As far as Tate knew, Quincy was the most successful Corgloresti in history at bringing souls over through the very complicated Corgloresti Embrace.
He’d never failed.
As he pulled a glass container from the cabinet and started unscrewing the lid, Tate let out a snort of laughter. “Do you really think you’ll need tongue depressors to teach Sophia to fly?”
His silver eyes narrowed and shifted briefly to her. “Don’t give me a hard time right now. You already know how stressed I am about this.”
She did know. Over the years, Quincy had become a very dear friend. And she long ago reasoned out how he felt about her cousin. She knew he was quite nervous over the prospect of being alone with her for an extended period of time. Even if she hadn’t had a second power that allowed her to see the truth of any matter, his uncommonly jerky mannerisms as he packed his satchel and the more pronounced accent in his words certainly would have tipped her off.
“You know,” she casually pointed out, “if I went with you, I’m sure it would be less stressful for you.”
He replaced the tongue depressors and lifted a container of cotton balls, giving it a thoughtful study. Tate bit her lip against another laugh even as he shook out a few fluffy balls and absently replied, “Nice try.”
“It’s true,” she insisted. “I could serve as a buffer for you so you wouldn’t be forced to try and make conversation with Sophia.” She paused to watch him fumble with the lid as he tried to screw it back on the container. Then she pointed out, “I’m sure she’ll look especially pretty today.”
“Sophia isn’t pretty,” he said in an affronted tone. He was so flustered that he dropped the jar. Fortunately, it hit an area rug and didn’t shatter, though it did roll across the floor toward the open window where Tate stood. Quincy cursed and shook his head at himself as he hurried after the container.
Tate laughed again and bent to help him pick up the displaced cotton balls. “Okay, okay. I’m sure she’ll look gorgeous, breathtaking and heart-stopping, then.”
He caught her gaze and some of the tension in his shoulders eased. One corner of his mouth rose. “Well, that’s a slightly more accurate description, at least. Though you did leave out spectacular and magnificent.”
“I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Sighing, he walked to the trash can to throw away the cotton balls that had escaped the jar. Then he secured the lid and put the container away. “I’m pathetic.”
“A completely lost cause.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Why did I suggest this again?”
“Because you’re hopelessly in love with my cousin and don’t want to see her fail at this,” she answered, running her finger idly along the frame of the painting hanging on the wall between the windows. The painting had been done by Sophia’s twelve-year-old sister, Leigh, and depicted the family of panthers that lived within the area of protection.
“Oh. Right.”
Empathizing with him, she walked over and rubbed his upper arm. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come along?”
“Well, that would certainly make things easier for me in one respect,” he admitted, giving her an appreciative grin. “But it would get me into all kinds of trouble with your father. You know him, right? Big guy? Handy with a sword? Deadly glare when he’s angry?”
Her lips twitched despite the fact that she knew her attempts to convince Quincy to take her along with him and Sophia weren’t going to succeed. “Yeah, yeah. Well, I believe in you, Quincy. I know that if anyone can help Sophia discover the faith she needs to learn to extend her wings when all else has failed, it’ll be you.”
He sighed again. “Thanks, Tate. No pressure, though.”
Quincy walked with her out to the training paddock with his packed satchel. Tate realized that all of her family members were nearby, despite the early hour. A number of them were stretching or completing their cardio warm-ups before the weapons training ahead.
Tiege stood with Aunt Amber and some of their cousins performing tai chi. Her dad and Uncle Gabriel spotted for her brothers, Nick and Alex, as they lifted weights. Her mom glided around the side yard with her younger sisters and cousins, instructing them in dance. Aunt Olivia and Uncle James watched the littlest of the children as they played with the family of panthers before beginning school for the day.
Sophia sat on a large rock about twenty yards from the paddock, looking quite glum as she awaited the day’s flight efforts. Tate’s heart went out to her. She knew how discouraged Sophia had been to fail again and again at bringing forth her wings during the lessons her parents started after her eighteenth birthday several weeks ago.
Plastering an encouraging smile on her face as she and Quincy approached, Tate said, “Hey, Sophia! You’re looking particularly pretty today.”
She heard Quincy mumble something under his breath and fought a giggle even as Sophia gave her a baleful look. The comment was true enough, though. Sophia’s turquoise sundress flattered her petite frame. The long skirt of the dress, pooled around her slim legs, made her look very delicate. She had secured her golden hair at the nape of her slender neck in an intricate knot, drawing attention to her wide blue-green eyes and the blue-green butterfly wing patterns around her eyes, indicating her second power. Although her small size and fair coloring differed from the rest of the Kynzesti, Sophia managed to outshine them all, in Tate’s opinion.
“Thanks, Tate,” Sophia said, barely glancing at Quincy. She looked irritated about somethi
ng and Tate wondered if one of the scientific experiments her cousin so enjoyed was giving her trouble. That always tended to spoil her mood. Of course, she could have just been nervous. With Sophia, it was a little hard to tell.
“I can’t wait to hear how everything goes today,” Tate ventured, keeping her tone light.
“Hmm,” Sophia responded, shifting and getting to her feet. Now, she spared Quincy a glance. “Well, let’s get this over with.”
“Ah…” Quincy said when she caught his gaze. He didn’t manage anything more.
“Your parents are coming to send you off,” Tate threw in, trying to help. Quincy gave her a grateful look.
Uncle James and Aunt Olivia approached, trailed by a group of giggling and bouncing children. Tate smiled as her aunt pulled Sophia into a hug, then passed her over to her uncle so he could repeat the gesture.
“We’re proud of you, honey,” Aunt Olivia said, her light green eyes damp. “I wish we could be there, but…I’m sure Quincy’s right. We were inadvertently restricting you in our lessons. Without us there, you’ll have the faith in yourself that you need to extend your wings.”
Sophia shifted uncomfortably and looked at the ground. Her father gave her a gentle smile.
“We look forward to hearing all about it when you get back,” he said.
She looked up and nodded. Quincy adjusted the satchel he wore across his body. It rattled as the items inside shifted. Although Uncle James raised an eyebrow over the obviously full bag, he didn’t comment. He did, however, catch Quincy’s gaze.
“Take care of her,” he said.
Quincy nodded. Then he looked down at Sophia. “Ready?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said.
Tate saw the lie resonate in the word. Sophia caught her gaze in warning, not that Tate was going to call her on it. She smiled and stepped forward to give her cousin a hug.