Airborne (8 page)

Mason took a long time to answer as he stared down at the one place Avery refused to look. This far in the air, she couldn’t imagine what the ground looked like. She could see the mountains in her peripheral vision, and at this altitude, they were crisp white and covered in glistening snow. Any remaining green life sat so far below them, it couldn’t be very visible. Even the highest canopy of the giant trees probably resembled weeds. Avery wouldn’t look down to confirm her sneaking suspicion.

The state of Alaska was massive and most of it was rural, unused lands of icy or forested masses. Even if they had a distinct altitude advantage, they weren’t a plane and wouldn’t be making great time. Thoughts straying, Avery shifted her head to glance at the gash on Mason’s left wing. The wound on the base of his wing had started to show all over again. The feathers that had once covered it began to part revealing the raw red gash. Fastening her left arm tightly around his neck, she moved her right hand to finger the wound. His wing snapped hard in protest.

No matter how much he shushed her about the subject, Mason’s wing clearly hurt him. He flew at a crooked angle and his wing refused to open completely. They whirled through the air, controlled but increasingly uncomfortable.

“It wouldn’t kill you to rest it awhile.” This time she didn’t shout but he heard her anyways.

“Avery,” Mason interrupted, “shut up.”

She opened her mouth to protest and never got the chance. His wings abruptly shifted and they lost altitude. The nauseating displacement of height left her stomach in knots.

“Harpies?” She squealed. Mason’s grip tightened and he lowered them again with a single twitch of his wings.

“Worse, storm front. Hold on!”

A crippling gust hit them right at that moment. Mason’s injured wing went askew first and sent them spiraling backwards at an awkward angle. The entire flight pattern ruined, they began to plummet. The world spiraled and Avery suddenly saw what they were facing. They’d flown right into a blizzard. Fear kicking in, Avery screamed. Mason’s wings beat in a last ditch attempt to upright them but the wind made him reel.

“Mason!”

She lost her grip and plunged downward. The world spiraled in a blur of solid white. Her limbs flailed as she flopped through the air. The drop wasn’t a long one and her shoulders made impact with the ground first before her head snapped back on the hard packed snow. Even if the fall had been shortened by Mason, her body still went into shock from the impact. The storm kept raging above her. Hurricane force winds bit at her skin and snow packed down on top of her body. Forcing herself to roll to her knees, Avery’s body ached but obeyed.

She scanned the spiraling white horizon as the wind and ice dried out her eyes.

“Mason!” Her throat had gone hoarse from her earlier screaming and her voice barely made a sound above the thunderous storm.

She couldn’t spot anything but the snow and the white capped hills. She squinted desperately but no speck of brown, tan, or black ever caught her eyes. Dragging herself to her feet, she pushed herself forward. Buried to her knees, she couldn’t walk right. Every muscle in her body protested as she hauled her ankles up and forced herself to take another step.

Her footing slipped and she waivered before sliding down the slick terrain on her backside. Striking something rock hard, she stopped. With no visibility, Avery ran her hands over what she’d landed on. She vaguely recognized it as the side of a mountain. Bracing her hands against the wall, Avery held it as she trudged sideways. The bumps of the mountain shifted and she led herself right into a cave. The wind let up and the air calmed. Avery blinked, heart pounding in her chest, as she glanced around. The cave delved deeper into the mountain and though musky and dark, she welcomed the sight.

The mark of magic in her hand rhythmically pulsed with her own heart beat. The magic not only warmed her but kept her body always one step up from total collapse. Not wanting to think about it anymore, she glanced back outside.

“Mason!”

She hollered again when flicker of movement caught her eye. She curled her fingers around the rock, hesitating. While ironic that she’d ever find a damp, harrowing cave more appealing than what played out before her, she couldn’t find it humorous at the moment.

Avery slowed her spinning thoughts to pick at them one by one. She hadn’t exactly seen Mason but the clunk she heard could have easily been a body coming down. Avery took a deep breath, steadying herself. The movement she’d seen originated from only a few feet away, but the weather made it a virtual mile. Too, leaving the cave now may mean she wouldn’t find her way back in the absolute confusion.

“Suck it up girl.” She told herself with a fair lot more audacity than she felt. Reaching for her cotton scarf, she unraveled the stark blue fabric until it bundled in her hands.

“Hansel and Gretel left themselves a trail of bread crumbs.” She parroted the old child’s rhyme idly.

The snow would cover it within a few minutes but so far it stood as the best idea she had. Readying herself in a hurry, she stretched out the cotton to its full three feet and walked back into the stormy weather. The gusts threatened to take it away but she dropped the front end and packed it down into the snow with the heel of her boot. It stood out harshly against the white snow. Done with that, she turned her attention outward and began to walk.

“Mason!” She yelled.

Just as she took another step, she stepped on something hard and bumpy. Looking below, she saw the figure lying in the snow for the first time. Mason’s face and straggly brown hair stood out above the snow.

“Come on, wake up, get up.” Avery dove to her knees as her hands scrambled to brush off the rapidly piling snow. It fell as fast as she cleared it off.

“Get up!” She demanded again. Taking on another strategy, she grabbed for him. Snatching up his hand, she stood, put her weight into it and tugged. Surprisingly light, Mason’s body budged and curled up. He let out a choking sound from deep in his throat.

“There, come on.” She dragged him up and over to the cave.

The blue of her scarf led the way, though it’d been blown unruly by the storm. One last wave of adrenaline racing through her veins, Avery tugged him into the cave. The wind slowed inside. The snow still piled in the front of the cave but not high enough to interfere with movement. She led a stumbling Mason in farther, collapsing when she reached the end.

Little light reached inside the cave and even less during the storm. Still, the cramped walls were near enough that she could chart the entire place by touch alone. Mason had fallen below her, using just enough energy to roll onto his back and fold his mangled wings beneath him. Hands moving quickly, Avery brushed the last snow off of both of them. When it would melt, they’d be wet again. This time, they would likely freeze to death. Mason stirred when she touched him.

She couldn’t quite see him so she leaned in carefully. Then his hand came up behind her and pulled her close. Avery jumped at first when he pulled her tight to his bare chest but she put it together quickly. He’d combined their body heat-- something that was especially useful when one of the persons ran hot all the time. Immediately feeling the difference, Avery leaned into him to warm up. She maneuvered her face into the crook of his neck and let out a breath. She couldn’t lie, squashing so close to Mason-- even in life or death scenarios-- seemed a little too personal. Unsure of what to make of it yet, she didn’t mention it.

“Will this kind of storm pass?” He asked.

“It should clear up in a few hours.” That was if it didn’t cause an avalanche and bury them alive in the cave. Avery didn’t add that part.

Mason actually acted like he liked her more. Avery had to admit, they hadn’t ever gotten off on the right foot so Mason liking her at all was an accomplishment. They’d still be squabbling in the forest if it wasn’t for mutual survival. At least this was a step in the right direction.

Mason stretched and she could feel the outline of his body as he pressed against her.

“We should rest.” He mentioned.

“No, we can’t.” Moving quickly, she nudged his chest before he even acted on sleeping. “Stay awake. Just trust me. You don’t want to fall asleep when at risk for freezing to death.”

He made a grunting sound of discontent.

“Trust me. Just talk to me.” Her mind spun to think of a subject. “Well, I’ve never met a harpie before you, right? So are there any other mythological creatures other than harpies?”

“If they are mythological, they don’t exist.” No matter how exhausted he was, Mason was quick to point out the flaw in her logic. “But no. Just us really. And that’s boring anyways.”

She let out an aggravated breath.

“Fine then, pick a subject. Just stay awake.” She said.

“Okay.” Mason shifted a bit, pulling away from Avery. If it was a traditional situation, he would have done it to see her face. The darkness in the cave didn’t allow that, so he touched her face instead. His fingers traced over her cheek, her lips, and downward off of her chin. The movement wasn’t inherently sensual, but Avery couldn’t help but react to it. Heart skipping a few beats, she shifted uncomfortably. Feelings were stirring in her chest that she definitely knew she shouldn’t be feeling. Especially not when they were trapped in a cave, pressed to close together and absolutely alone.

She heard him clearly this time but didn’t have an immediate answer. Her mind spun. He’d left his hand lingering by the nape of her neck but hadn’t moved. Desperately wishing she could see his face, she didn’t jump to conclusions but swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Don’t be so defensive. I’m just trying to figure you out. I watched you, you know, when I showed up at the school. Mostly to make sure that you were the right person. That you were human and that you didn’t know about harpies.”

She gave up on thinking he meant something more and changed her focus. “Why, you thought I was supernatural?”

“You picked up the amulet of Willow by absolute chance. Out of a hundred rocks on the beach, you picked up the amulet. I wouldn’t dismiss the chance that you didn’t pick it up by accident.”

Avery suddenly thought about the dream she’d had. In her dream, she didn’t pick the amulet up by accident but had been looking for it. She wondered at that moment if harpies believed in fate too. If magic was real, what else could be? But the truth of the matter was that she didn’t pick up that amulet knowingly. It was absolute luck.