Wings (A Black City Novel)

  He nods, and we keep following the trail marked out for us by Patrick and the others. They’re a hundred feet ahead of us, so they can’t hear our conversation.

  “Cassie and I used to sneak out here after your grandfather went to bed,” he says. I remember Catherine telling me her dad and my mom used to date as teens, so I can imagine what they were getting up to. Gross. “She loved it out here. She found life in Amber Hills stifling, trapped within those stone walls, but out here there was freedom and adventure.” He sighs, looking at me. “I never shared her enthusiasm for coming into the forest, though. Back in those days, this place was crawling with Darklings.”

  A shiver trickles down my spine as he holds my gaze. I look away, terrified he’ll see through me and discover the secret lurking in the silent space where my heart should be beating.

  “Those were dangerous times, Edmund. Your mother wasn’t afraid, though.” He shakes his head. “She didn’t think the Darklings were demons. Cassie wasn’t a follower of the faith.”

  “What?” I touch the circular pendant around my neck—a symbol of our faith. My mom wasn’t a believer? But she was the minister’s daughter; how could she not have faith? I frown. I’ve heard a lot of terrible rumors about my mom this week: that she was crazy, that she hanged herself and now this? I don’t know why it bothers me so much, but the fact that she wasn’t a believer . . . well, I’m disappointed. My religion has given me so much strength; it’s kept me on a true path all these years. I think about Catherine and the sweet taste of her blood on my tongue, and my grip tightens around the pendant. I won’t ever do that again.

  “I couldn’t marry a girl who didn’t have faith, so we parted ways,” Mr. Langdon says.

  Ah. So that’s how he ended up with Mrs. Langdon? She was his second choice.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur.

  Mr. Langdon shrugs. “Sarah has been a good wife to me, and we have . . . had . . . two beautiful children.” A sob escapes his lips, taking me by surprise.

  I turn away, unable to stand looking at his grief when I’m the cause of it. Patrick snatches a look over his shoulder and notices his father crying. Patrick and the O’Malley siblings race over to us, their feet crashing through the undergrowth.

  “What the hell did you say?” Patrick yells at me.

  “Nothing!” I reply.

  Patrick throws me a hate-filled look before slinging an arm around his father’s waist to support him as we continue our hike through the forest toward the Claw. It’s much farther away than I realized, and by lunchtime we’re still a few miles away from the mountain. I don’t mind. The trees, which I once found sinister, now seem beautiful in their dark, unique way. My feet easily navigate the uneven ground, barely snapping a twig. Soon I’m walking ahead of the others. I look back and catch Harriet watching me with grudging admiration.

  Somewhere to my right I can hear the roar of a waterfall. I check my canteen. It’s empty. I follow the sound of the rushing water until I find a natural pool nestled among the foliage. I’m about to dip my canteen into the water when I catch a whiff of rotten eggs. I scrunch up my nose. It seems to be coming from the pool.

  Drew ambles toward me and pinches his nose. “Geez, Edmund, was that you?”

  I flush. “It’s the water.”

  Drew smirks. “Sure.”

  “I think sulfuric gas is leaking into it,” I murmur.

  “Don’t stress about it; the volcano’s been dormant for centuries,” Drew says.

  “Why don’t we rest for a while?” Mr. Langdon says, sitting down on the ground.

  I don’t object. My feet are aching and I’m exhausted from the hike. The others sit down beside the pool while Patrick collects some wood and starts a fire. Harriet cooks some tins of beans over the flames, and everyone heartily tucks into their lunch. I poke my beans around the tin, pretending to eat them. When no one’s looking, I toss the food into the nearby foliage.

  I pat my stomach, acting like I’m full. Patrick narrows his eyes at me, and doubt starts to niggle at my insides like an itch I can’t scratch. Does he suspect what I am? He knows I wear dentures; has he worked out why?

  “I’m going to grab an hour’s shut-eye, if that’s all right,” Drew says.

  “I’ll keep watch,” I say.

  Harriet snorts, but Mr. Langdon gives me a sleepy smile. “Thank you, Edmund.”

  “Try not to let anyone get killed this time, okay?” Harriet replies, referring to Mrs. Hope.

  I glower at her. Patrick sits down and leans against a tree while the others lie down on the ground beside the fire, using their bags as a pillow. I take a pew on a rock near the waterfall and check my rifle to make sure it’s loaded. Patrick silently watches me as the others sleep.

  “Your grandfather said a Lupine killed Catherine,” Patrick says.

  My grip tightens around the gun. I look up, trying not to let my panic show.

  “That’s what he told me too,” I reply.

  “So you weren’t there when it happened?”

  Yes. “No.”

  He narrows his eyes. “Then where were you?”

  I swallow. “At home. I ran home the moment the fighting broke out. I was scared.”

  Patrick tilts his head, judging whether to believe me or not. “The funny thing is, I spoke to the funeral director this morning and he told me the weirdest thing. Apparently, there were bite marks on Catherine’s neck.”

  I clench my hands to stop them from shaking. “The Howler must have done that.”

  “That’s what I said,” Patrick replies. “But here’s the weird bit: he said the marks looked human. Isn’t that strange?”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty strange.”

  Patrick holds my gaze for a long, agonizing moment. “I guess he was wrong, though. I mean, why would anyone bite Catherine?”

  He gives me a chilling smile, then shuts his eyes. As soon as he’s asleep, I take a few deep, ragged breaths, trying to force my panic aside. There’s no way he can tie me to Catherine’s death; there were no witnesses. Other than Ulrika. Reassured by this fact, I start to calm down. I stare at the fire, watching the amber flames dance, finding it soothing. He has nothing on me; it’s going to be fine. The hypnotic movement makes my lids begin to droop . . .

  • • •

  I start awake. Fragg! How long was I asleep? It felt like seconds, but the flames have died out, and only the glowing embers remain. Mr. Langdon and the others are breathing heavily, deep in sleep. The forest is colder than before, suggesting it’s late in the afternoon. We’ve been asleep for hours. Thank His Mighty everyone is all right. I’d never forgive myself if someone else got killed on my watch. I get up and check our perimeter, wondering what woke me. Then I hear it. A voice.

  “Kieran!” a girl calls out from the forest, somewhere to my left.

  Pain scrunches up in my chest and I wince. Ahh! What the hell? It’s just like the cramp I felt the other night, when Mrs. Hope was snatched. Not now! I roughly rub my chest, trying to force the pain aside as I grab my rifle. The sensible thing to do would be to stay here and wake Mr. Langdon, but something compels me to follow the voice, like a siren’s call. I take the safety off my gun and stalk into woods, ignoring my aching chest. The light instantly dims as I creep through the trees, keeping my footsteps light.

  “Kieran?” the girl urgently calls again. There’s something familiar about her voice, and yet I’m pretty sure I’ve never heard it before. “Kieran, where are you?”

  My grip tightens around the rifle as I walk farther up the mountain slope, toward the voice. The girl has to be a Lupine, since no one else lives up here. We must be closer to their village than we realized. I pad through the forest, my nerves mounting. Up ahead I notice a clearing between the Carrow trees. A strange tugging sensation pulls at my chest, telling me to go in that direction. I head toward the clearing, despite
the voice screaming inside my head to turn back and get Mr. Langdon.

  “Kieran! There you are,” the girl says from the clearing up ahead. “What on earth are you doing out here with them?”

  “Relax, T,” the boy replies. “Luci and Annora are my friends.”

  “If your cousin finds out, she’ll skin you alive,” the girl says.

  “I’d like to see Ulrika try,” Kieran scoffs. “You won’t tell her, though, will you?”

  I creep toward the clearing, fear pulsing through me. The pain in my chest worsens with every footstep, and I grit my teeth, trying to force it aside.

  “Oh . . . !” The girl gasps.

  “You okay?” Kieran says.

  “Yes . . . yes, I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

  “Hey, how did you know I was here?” Kieran says. “Were you stalking me? Oh my God, do you have a crush on me or something, T? I knew it.”

  “Ha! In your dreams, dogbreath,” a different girl drawls.

  “I was worried about you,” the first girl explains to Kieran. “It’s not safe out here. Now I realize why you snuck off without telling anyone. How do you even know these girls?”

  I reach the clearing. Through the foliage I see the silhouette of a girl—she’s tall, easily six feet, and slim with a long mane of hair. Definitely Lupine. Her back is turned to me.

  “I met them a few weeks ago,” Kieran replies. “You can trust them, I swear. Just don’t tell Ulrika, okay? She won’t understand.”

  I raise my gun, take a step and—

  “Argh!” I yell out in surprise as something snaps around my ankle and the world spins upside down. My rifle slips through my fingers and lands on the earth six feet below me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize I’ve stepped into a spring trap, but it’s hard to think straight as pain rips through my ankle and chest, leaving me gasping for breath.

  There’s a snap of twigs as footsteps pad over to me.

  “Don’t kill me!” I screw my eyes shut and say a silent prayer. I flinch as the girl’s sweet breath spills over my face. A thrill of pleasure ripples through my body, despite my terror.

  “Give me one good reason not to,” the girl says, placing a knife against my neck.

  I open my eyes. “I—” My words get lost on my lips.

  A pair of angry silver eyes glares back at me. They’re framed with white lashes that match the girl’s snowy skin. Despite the fact that I’m looking at her upside down, I can tell she’s beautiful—a heart-shaped face, with full lips and rose-blushed cheeks. We hold each other’s gaze for a long moment, neither of us talking. I’m barely breathing. A crease forms in the girl’s brow as the expression in her eyes gradually shifts from anger to confusion to . . . something else. Recognition? She blinks, breaking the connection.

  “Do I know you?” she says.

  “I don’t think so.” It feels like we’ve met before, but surely I’d remember her. My Adam’s apple bobs nervously in my throat, causing the stubble on my neck to scratch against the girl’s blade. “I’m Edmund. What’s your name?”

  “What are you doing here, Edmund?” She presses the knife harder against my skin.

  “Hunting deer,” I squeak. “I got lost.”

  She narrows her eyes, trying to decide if she believes me or not. Finally, she sighs and lowers the knife from my throat, then slashes the wire tying me to the tree. I fall to the earth with a heavy thump. The Lupine tucks the knife into her belt and gazes down at me.

  “It’s Theora,” she says. “My name’s Theora.”

  16.

  EDMUND

  “THEORA,” I SAY QUIETLY, liking how the word sounds on my lips. “That’s a pretty name.”

  She blushes slightly. “Thanks.”

  Now that I’m not hanging upside down, I can get a better look at her. She’s wearing a floaty yellow dress, strapped at the waist with a chunky belt, and a hunting jacket. Her gray eyes flicker toward something on the ground. I follow her gaze. My gun! Before I can move, she quickly grabs the rifle and takes a cautious step back, keeping her eyes trained on me as I stand up. I should be afraid, but I’m not. In fact, I feel weirdly excited, like there are these little shivers of electricity rushing through my veins.

  She holds my gaze, her expression an odd mixture of curiosity and anger. It’s clear she’s just as intrigued by me as I am with her. I’ve never seen anyone like Theora before. She’s obviously a Lupine, but the more I study her, the more irregularities I notice. Her nose is slimmer than a normal Lupine’s, her face is rounder, and her eyes are almond shaped. She looks . . . well, she looks a little bit like me.

  “Thanks for cutting me down,” I finally say.

  Her brow creases, as though she’s wondering why she did it. “I didn’t want us getting blamed if you got eaten by a Darkling,” she eventually replies.

  “We wouldn’t have eaten him,” a girl says to my right.

  I flinch, startled at the sound of the girl’s voice. I’d forgotten there were other people here, I was so fixated on Theora. I turn to look at the girl.

  If I had a heartbeat, it would’ve stopped.

  Standing a few meters away are a boy and two girls. The Lupine boy, who I presume is Kieran, is about fourteen or fifteen years old, based on his boyish features, although he’s very tall. He has a silver streak through his white mane. But it’s not the boy who’s turned my blood to ice; it’s the two girls next to him. The older of the two girls, who looks a year or so older than Kieran, is wearing a green dress, and the younger girl—who is holding Kieran’s hand—is wearing boys’ pants and a gray top. They both have pale skin, rippling black hair and glimmering eyes the color of onyx. I let out a shaky breath.

  Darklings.

  A dizzying mixture of emotions races through me all at once; it’s hard to grab hold of one and stick with it. It’s thrilling to finally meet some of my own kind, but I’ve been raised to not trust these demons, and rightfully so after one of their kind raped my mom.

  “How long have they been back?” I growl.

  Kieran steps protectively in front of the two Darkling girls. The younger of the two girls—the one wearing the pants and gray top—glares defiantly at me from behind him.

  “A little over six weeks,” Theora answers.

  Six weeks? That’s how long the Lupines have been snatching people from our village. It can’t be a coincidence.

  “What’s going on?” I say. “Why are you trying to start a war between our species?”

  “We’re not. We’re trying to keep the peace,” Theora explains. “I know it sounds like a contradiction, but you don’t understand. Icarus is back.”

  Dread creeps over me. Icarus? Why does that name sound familiar? Then it comes to me. He was the Darkling who killed dozens of our people during the Misery.

  “When Icarus came back, he started snatching our people to feed on,” Theora explains. “There are so few of us left, Edmund, we had to do something—”

  “So you offered him our people instead?” I can imagine Icarus was delighted with this bargain—from everything Grandfather’s told me about the Darklings and what I know from my own . . . desires, they prefer human blood over all others, although they will drink Lupine blood at a push.

  “We only took the weak and the sick ones, like that old woman I snatched—”

  “It was you who took Mrs. Hope that night?” I say.

  Theora nods. “We gave them to Icarus as a gesture of goodwill,” Theora says. “So far it’s kept him happy. He hasn’t attacked your town or ours.”

  That explains why Mrs. Hope was left out on a rock like a sacrificial lamb, because that’s exactly what she was.

  “Why was Ulrika’s sister found with Mrs. Hope’s body?” I think about the Lupine girl we drowned.

  Theora lowers her pale lashes. “She was guarding it, until Icarus turn
ed up.”

  I glance at the two Darklings, feeling a surge of anger. The older of the two girls, the one in the green dress, shrinks back, clearly frightened of me. Her angular face has an almost impish quality to it, with a small mouth and narrow chin.

  I look back at Theora. “Why didn’t you just come to us and tell us all this?”

  “We did,” she says. “The minister gave us permission to take the victims, as long as we kept Icarus’s return a secret from the villagers; he thought it would cause unnecessary panic. That’s why he made us snatch the victims at night; he wanted to make sure the villagers blamed us for the kidnappings, so they didn’t suspect Icarus had returned.” Theora sighs a little. “We thought the rest of the Guild was aware of this arrangement. But they killed Naomi, so I guess not.”

  I rake a hand through my hair. My grandfather was behind the kidnappings? He’s been lying to me, to everyone, including the Guild! Why keep Icarus’s return a secret from them? I ball my hands into fists. This is all Grandfather’s fault! If he hadn’t gone behind the Guild’s back, they wouldn’t have gone in search of Mrs. Hope’s body, and the Howler girl, Naomi, wouldn’t have been captured and executed. Alaric wouldn’t have entered the town to retrieve her body, and Eric and Catherine would still be alive. And now Mr. Langdon, Patrick, Harriet and Drew are down at the waterfall, on their way to kill Alaric Bane to avenge Catherine’s and Eric’s deaths, and I’ve been sent on a mission to murder Ulrika. There’s been so much bloodshed. How could he let this happen? Why didn’t he just tell the Guild the truth?

  I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I don’t immediately notice that the birds have stopped chirping. In fact the whole forest has become deathly silent. Theora gazes up at the trees, clearly noticing the silence too.

  “What’s going on?” she says. “Why’s it so qui—”

  She doesn’t have time to complete her sentence as the ground begins to quake, knocking us to our knees. Thunder roars beneath the earth, like a Titan awakening. The Darkling girls huddle together with Kieran as pebbles and small rocks bounce down the forest slopes, striking our arms and backs. Around us the Carrow trees start to shake, the vibrations making their leaves scream like banshees, and I’m terrified they’re going to crash down on top of us.