Flight (18 page)

I enter the ballroom and I try to forget. I try to forget, but I don’t know whether it’s the dancers spinning around me or my own mind doing the twirling. I force myself to notice the beauty in the roman-esque pillars and how they’re wrapped in vines and tiny, twinkling lights. I see the symphonic band filled with strings and brass, playing a love song so ancient many have forgotten its name. I see normal people laughing, rejoicing, and I want so badly to be among them, but now I know that can never happen. I`ve trapped myself; caused my own death.

Tor finds me standing against the wall, watching the dancers whirl around, trying to find my bearings in the dizzying twilight fete. He looks handsome in a simple black tux with matching masque, his blond hair combed and gelled back, his eyes bright between the two holes.

“You look beautiful, my lady,” he says, bowing gracefully before me. Inside I feel flat, but I know that I’m being watched from every angle, so I fan myself with a fake oriental paper fan and flutter my eyelashes playfully. It’s hard not to let him know that I know his secret, but I guess it comes with the job. Playing a role was never a difficult task.

“And you look quite handsome, sir,” I reply, adding a gentile southern accent. He grins widely and pulls me over to him and to the dance floor where an upbeat, brassy song has just started to play. The music washes over me as I let go of everything that’s happened over the last few weeks and allow myself to just exist. There’s no way I’m going to be able to pull any of this off if I keep worrying about whether or not I’m going to survive the night. Tor keeps his hands wrapped around my hips as we jump and spin among the other revellers, crashing into each other and laughing, drunk on wine or the last dregs of whiskey found. For a while I feel like a normal person with a good-looking date and without a worry in the world, and then I see him.

He’s leaning against a pillar, staring at me with a smirk on his lips. His tux is made of the finest silk, his masque finely crafted in a deep plum colour and his ebony hair retaining its usual sloppy, spiky style. His gaze hits me like a herd of rushing bulls and I’m pulled from my carefree dancing back into the real world where Harpy princes exist in the underground, colleagues are paid to spy on you and Directors carry secret vendettas. I look apologetically at Tor, who resumes his dancing and shows me the small flask he has in his pocket with a wink. In a flash I’ve lost the will to keep on with this charade. If I keep pretending, will it one day be my reality?

Asher waits patiently as I make my way over, stumbling over drunken girls and couples pushed together cheek to cheek. When I reach him, he pulls me close to him, breathing gently into my ear.

“You look like you’re having fun,” he whispers, sending chills up my spine. The smell of his skin clouds my thoughts; my focus is only on him now, his hands wrapped around my waist, his lips gently touching my neck.

“What are you doing?” I choke, forcing myself to keep my distance from him. He grins again, the blue of his eyes nearly glowing from under his masque.

“You promised,” he says simply. A slower song begins to play and he pulls me toward the dance floor, twirling me around with experienced ease.

“You probably saved my life the other day,” I say quietly, allowing myself to rest my head on his strong shoulder.

“I couldn’t let you kill yourself in that shower, Piper. I don’t want you to ever be in pain,” he whispers, his gaze focused on the crowd around us, not daring to look at me.

“I’m not so innocent, you know,” I reply. The way his arms fold around me feels so right, it makes me want to cry, to hold him tighter and let out all of my troubles onto him.

“What are we going to do?” I ask, feeling his hands tighten their grip. Somehow I know that he knows the bind I’m in, that he can sense from me exactly how I’m feeling, and exactly what’s at stake.

“How much are you willing to risk?” he asks, lips brushing my earlobes.

I pull his face around to look at me, searching his eyes and only seeing a profound sadness within them. What would I be willing to risk to continue this? Flashes of my life pass before me: my mom, Tor, Shelly, Elder Corp, David. David, the part of my life that made me whole, the part that’s gone now. Would I take a risk with the chance of filling it? Letting myself be whole again? I look at Asher seriously.

“Everything,” I whisper.

We leave the ballroom separately. I rush over to tell Tor I’m not feeling well, the threat of my lie weighing heavily on my chest, but he appears to be so inebriated he doesn’t care. I glance over at Rupert before leaving, but he’s got Grier on the dance floor and his face lights up at her charm; silently I thank her. I exit the underground, taking one of the public access routes to go up top instead of through the Corp building. Once I’m outside, the fresh air fills my lungs anew and I feel like whooping. I run to our spot, the abandoned building, and when I open the door he’s already there, his tuxedo jacket draped over the couch, his masque still perched over his nose. He quickly closes the gap between us, running his hands over my shoulders, my neck, drawing stilted gasps from deep within me. I reach up to pull his masque off, revealing the face I’ve come to know so well.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, his eyes filled with concern.

“More than anything,” I reply, knowing it to be the truth. He pulls my own masque off my face, searching my eyes. I let my hands feel his shoulders, rub gently over his back, the rough feeling of the scar under my fingers. He tucks his face into my neck, kissing my collar bone gently, moving his way up to my earlobes.

“Do you trust me?” he whispers.

“Yes,” I reply, dying for him to keep kissing me, to let me kiss him.

“Come with me,” he says, taking my hand and leading me toward the window.

“Where?” I ask breathlessly, cursing the width of the stupid dress as I struggle to walk quickly. He focuses for a minute, eyes closed, and I hear the tearing rip of skin as his wings protrude from his back.

“Fly with me,” he says.

I want to say no, sure that if I step out there I’ll die a horrific and painful death, but the eager look on his face persuades me to trust him. I unzip the heavy dress and let it fall around my ankles, leaving me only in a pale green slip. He pulls me over to the window, the cool evening breeze pulling my hair out of its elaborate up do and floating around my shoulders. Without a word he wraps his arms around me and jumps.

We plummet toward the ground, heading for certain death, when his wings spread out, evening our speed into a gentle glide. I cling to his body as his wings pull us higher and higher, until we’re above the clouds, soaring under the moon.

“This is amazing,” I shout, laughing out loud as we duck and spin through the air, like we’re dancing with the stars.

“I wanted to show you what I see,” he replies. He stops us so we’re in one place, his wings flapping to keep us up. I don’t hesitate. I bring a hand up to his cheek, rubbing his soft skin, and he leans forward and kisses me. I press back with an intensity I’ve never felt before, and as we kiss he dives toward the ground, and I’m not scared in the least.

Secrets fill my life. I keep my knowledge from the resistance, I keep my motives from my bosses, and I keep Asher from everybody. Some of the staff go home for the winter holidays early, Shelley included, and I spend most of my time avoiding people. Number one is Tor, and number two is Myra, who I’m not ready to speak with just yet. Joining her team means telling her about Asher, and I don’t think I’m ready to risk it until I know more.

Tor comes to the Hunter lounge while I’m organizing the rest of my year-end paperwork. I turn when I hear a muffled cough to find him standing in the entrance, his eyes looking puffy and red as if he’s been crying, or maybe just doing something he knew was wrong.

“Hey,” I say quietly. I know he’s going to confront me. It was a miracle that no one seemed to have noticed my disappearance at the Banquet. Since then I’ve been avoiding Tor’s looks in the Corp halls, eating lunch underground, faking sick, and making myself do extra work. He sees through it. He has to see through it. This is it. This is when he’s going to tell me what his real motives are.

“We need to talk,” he whispers.

My heart plummets in my chest. I’ve been preparing myself for this, knowing that what I’m doing is wrong, but I still didn’t expect it to hurt like this. All this time I’ve known that Tor, who used to be everything to me, has been wronging me at every turn, but I don’t think I’ve ever had to accept it. Until now. Am I selfish for wanting Asher and misleading Tor? Or am I just cowardly, unable to sleep in the bed I made myself?

He sits down at one of the desks, sighs deeply, and looks at me, his brown eyes so pained in that instant I want to break down.

“I don’t know what’s been going on with you lately, but I get the feeling you’ve been avoiding me. You don’t have lunch with me, don’t talk at meetings, you can’t even look at me right now while I’m talking to you,” he says.

I bite my lower lip, force myself to look at him, feel his anger cut me down.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been—”

“Save it,” he interrupts, “I know there’s something going on. I can sense it from you. This is just like what happened before,” he mutters.

“What?” I exclaim. I glare at him incredulously. He stands up and towers over me.

“Are you feigning amnesia again, Piper? You don’t remember all the sneaking around, lying to me, all while you were with
him,
” he snipes.

I look around the room frantically, tears sprouting from my eyes. I’m thinking back to a year ago, before David, when Tor and I broke up, but I can’t remember anyone else, I can’t remember
anything
.

“I don’t remember!” I shout, my tears turning my breathing into harsh sobs. I curl up into a ball on the small chair, my eyes wide, trying to think of anything from before. A phone call with mom, a hunt I did well on, David, Tor, Shelley. But nothing comes, only a permeating blackness and a flash of those bright blue eyes.

Tor puts a hand on my back and I brush him off—my head is spinning and my hands begin to shake from panic
.
Why can’t I remember anything?

“You really don’t remember?” he asks softly.

I know he’s feeling guilty, staring at me awkwardly, wanting to help me but unsure how. I shake my head violently, rocking myself, counting to ten a hundred times until my head clears.

“Do you want me to get anyone?” he asks finally as my breathing slows to a normal rate. But I don’t want to talk to anybody, or see anybody, because every single person in my life has been lying to me. I thought it was just Elder Corp, but now I can see that it’s everyone. There are details about the events of last year that are still swept under, hidden. I’m going to find out what they are, and no one is going to stand in my way.

“I want you to leave,” I whisper. I can feel the desperation oozing from him as he slowly rises from his crouched position over me. I don’t want him to leave like this, but I know it’s for his own good, to keep him safe, even after everything. I don’t even bother to tell him I know his secret, just stare at the floor as he slowly backs out of the room. After he’s gone I wipe my tears away, ready to stop crying about the past I’ve forgotten and finally find the truth.

Home. In the past it used to be the place I looked forward to being at after a hard night at work, where Mom would be reading in the living room, a plate of dinner waiting in the fridge. David and I would sneak out onto the roof, the black tunnel walls in Central almost an arm’s reach away before they built the Holo-sky, ignoring the repugnant stink of the underground waste systems. We’d talk about Hunting, wonder where Dad was, and tell each other our secrets and wishes. He might have been the only one who knew what was happening with me a year ago, and now he’s gone.

I enter my house, gagging on the smells now that I’ve been spoiled by fresh air for so long, and it’s exactly as I left it. Pictures have been torn off the walls, replaced by vague, stock calendars, the floral printed couch covering the hole my head put in the wall when David and I wrestled. It’s immaculately tidy.

“I’m home!” I call out, dropping my luggage in the front entrance. I miss the sounds of the old records Mom used to keep playing—classical and jazz used to flow through the now sickly silent rooms. I navigate the house in search of life; hoping Mom remembered I was coming home today. I’m shocked when I enter the kitchen and hear:

“Surprise!”

Sitting at the table with a banner reading
Welcome Home, Piper!
is my smiling mother and Shelley, my own little homecoming party.

“Thanks guys,” I murmur, wrapping them both into my arms, alarmed at how frail my mom has become. She pulls away, a tiny smile still on her face, and it warms my heart so much just to see her again, and smiling! Shelley motions for me to sit down.

“What’s going on? Why are you guys so happy?” I ask, realizing how ridiculous it sounds. Why shouldn’t they be happy?

“Something very fortunate happened last week, and I wanted to wait to tell you until you came home,” mom says. She looks like she’s about to bubble over with excitement.

“Go on,” I encourage.

“I received an anonymous gift, a very generous sum of money. Enough to buy a house in a fresh air zone!” she exclaims.

“Isn’t that great?” Shelley chimes in.

I sit there, dumbfounded. This doesn’t sound right to me. Anonymous gift of money? Could it be a Corp bribe? Or Asher stepping in?

“That’s great, Mom,” I say, trying to seem enthusiastic. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but it seems like bribe money to me. “You have no clue where it came from?” I ask. Mom shakes her head.

“It was just an envelope stuffed with bills that was addressed to me, signed a generous benefactor,” she says.

“We need to catch up, to your room?” Shelley says, pulling me away from the table, and from my mother who’s lost in some gleeful daze. I nod, but my motion is zombie-like as we tread up the stairs to what used to be my room. It used to be our ritual to come up here and share the latest gossip, sometimes chatting late into the night about whatever. Now the thought of going to my room seems suffocating, filled with too many memories of a person I can no longer be.

Shelley closes the door and plops on my bed, her board-straight blond hair pulled behind her head in a silky ponytail.

“Your mom’s so happy,” she says as I join her. I nod absentmindedly, sitting down beside her.

“How have you been?” I ask, letting myself lie back on the bed, looking at the familiar view of the stick-on stars making constellations on my ceiling.

“I’ve been working at the Rad Lab here, trying to collect some more information. It hasn’t been easy. Central’s locked up tight. All I’ve been doing is actually making garments. Can you imagine the Rad gear I’m going to be able to design? You could actually look fashionable out there,” she says. I force a laugh. “Now, you need to tell me all about what I missed last week. How are things with Tor?” she asks. I bite my lower lip, the mention of the situation bringing back painful memories.

“Actually, we had a fight just before I left,” I say, eliciting a gasp from my best friend.

“Does he know, then?” she asks, eyes wide and paranoid.

“I don’t really know about anything anymore. Shells, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me,” I say. She nods seriously. “Was there ever another guy in my life? Like a year ago?” I ask.

She looks down at the floor, inhaling sharply. I was worried about this. I need her to tell me everything straight, so I can try to wrap my head around it.

“There was someone. You never told me much about him, not even his name, but you used to disappear all the time to be with him. It was a really weird time. You don’t remember any of it?” she asks.

I shake my head no. “How could I have been with someone when I don’t even remember it?” I wonder aloud.

“Trauma’s a tough thing, Piper. I mean, you witnessed your brother die, it only makes sense that you would have some psychological repercussions,” she answers matter-of-factly.

How can she think this is so simple? People don’t just forget entire parts of their lives. “How did I look, then?” I ask. I know I should just leave it, but I need to know.

“Happy,” she says honestly, “in love, I guess. It broke Tor’s heart though, when it all happened.”

Of course it did. I’m such a jackass. No wonder he took on Rupert’s offer.

“So what happens next?” she asks.

“We move on. Nothing’s changed,” I reply. But that’s not true. Everything’s changed. Everything I thought I knew about myself is at stake. How do you find a past you can’t remember?

“I’m always here if you need me,” Shelley whispers.

Shelley leaves and my mother is quick to retire to bed, leaving me wide awake in my room with nothing but my thoughts swirling through my mind. There are just too many unanswered questions. What exactly happened a year ago? Why are my memories so patchy? I jump when I hear a sound at my window, and scramble to check it out.

I nearly scream when I see Asher outside, wings tucked into place, standing on the roof outside of my house. I pull the window open quietly and usher him inside.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I whisper. I cross my arms in front of my body self-consciously; I’m wearing only a small tank top and boxer shorts.

“I needed to see you. You didn’t say goodbye before you left,” he answers, his voice breathless. I look him up and down, he seems tired, his starched white shirt drenched with sweat and rain.

“Did you fly here from Ichton?” I ask.

He nods. “Things aren’t exactly going well with my family right now. I opted to spend the holiday away from them,” he replies. We stand there for a moment, silently staring at each other before he sits down on my bed.
My
bed, complete with purple frilly comforter and ratty stuffed animals. I’m still so lost in everything, I don’t know what to say.

“Are you okay?” he asks finally.

“Just really confused about everything; including us. Are you really sure we should be doing this?” I ask. I don’t know why I say it. I haven’t even thought it. His eyes flash with hurt.

“I think it’s a little past that now. If you want to call it off, we can,” he mutters.