Bird Song (65 page)

Lark’s eyes began to shed sparkling tear after tear, each one falling and disappearing into the debris below our feet.
 
Her glow shifted through the array of colors that each spoke of a different mood, a different feeling as she shed tears over her past for the last time.

“I’m amazed,” she said to me when the storm of crystal had ceased, “that your ability to see things with your own mortal eyes surpasses what I can see with mine, blind though I may be.”

“Hey, I don’t have the ability to read minds so I’ve got to make up for it by being observant,” I joked.

“What you are,” Robert said as he released his sister’s hand and reached for mine, “is amazing.”

“I’ll say,” Stacy chimed in.

“That’s the truth,” Graham said, laughing.

“Agreed,” Lark announced.

I grinned foolishly before I suddenly remembered something.
 
“Stacy!
 
You had something important to tell Lark, remember?
 
She’s here—what better time than now to tell her what it is?”

Stacy looked at the four of us, her smile suddenly falling.
 
“I think it can wait.”

Graham shook his head.
 
“No it can’t, Stacy.
 
You don’t have time for secrets.”

“It can wait, Graham.
 
This isn’t the time for something like this,” Stacy argued.
 
“This time is for you two.”

“What is it, Stacy?” I asked, curious now.
 
“All I’ve heard come out of your mouth for the past few days as been ‘I have to tell Lark something’ and ‘I have something that Lark needs to know’.
 
I think it’s only fair that after putting us through your constant hounding, you tell her.”

Lark’s beautiful smile should have been enough encouragement as she nodded in agreement.
 
“Please, tell us what it is.”

Stacy shook her head, and then pressed her hands to her eyes.
 
“I can’t.”

Lark’s smile vanished as she looked at Stacy with a puzzled expression taking its place.
 
As if lightning had struck, her entire body jerked still.
 
She gasped, her eyes quickly moved to Robert—they were filled with fear.

“Is it true?” she asked him.

Robert looked at me, as though waiting for my approval.
 
“Is what true?” I asked him.
 
“What’s going on?”

Stacy eyed the three of us warily and then turned to question Lark.
 
“Why are you asking him if it’s true?
 
Why would he know any more than you do?”

Lark ignored the question and then turned to face her brother, repeating the question she had asked him.
 
“Is it true?
 
Tell me.”

He nodded once and I flinched as I saw Lark’s eyes turn jet black with rage.
 
Lark’s face began to crumble as she turned to face Stacy, her hands gently rubbing the bruises that were left there by Graham’s angry fingers.
 
“It’ll be okay,” she said reassuringly.
 
“I don’t care what he says, it’s going to be okay.”

“What is going on?” I asked desperately.

My head whipped around to look at Graham and then at Robert.
 
“Will someone tell me what’s going on, since I’m apparently the only one out of the loop on this one?”

I looked at four separate pairs of eyes, each one trying desperately to avoid direct contact with my own, as though they were each guilty of something that couldn’t be admitted to.

Robert’s grim voice broke through the silence to answer me.
 
“Stacy’s dying, Grace.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.
 
She’s not dying—she’s only eighteen.
 
Besides, if she were, you’d tell me, you’d warn me, right?
 
Right, Robert?”

When no answer came, I knew what it was.

“You already knew, and you kept it from me.”
 
I backed away, a hard pain sitting in my throat.

Lark began to shake with anger, her body vibrating so violently, Graham was unable to hold her without harming himself.
 
He quickly backed away and then looked at me with guilt in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.
 
Stacy made me promise not to tell and—I
gotta
be honest here—she scares me.”

I nodded to him, but my eyes traveled back to Robert’s, who didn’t look apologetic at all.
 
“And you have nothing to say?”

“This is more important than you, Grace,” he replied before forcing me to turn around.
 
“This is more important than you or me.”

Stacy stood mere inches away from Lark as she spoke, her voice clear and steady, despite the gravity of her words.
 
“This wasn’t how I wanted to tell you…
 
You don’t need to ask Robert or Graham or go digging through the minds of the doctors in the oncology department at Licking Memorial or Newark or whatever else you’re planning.
 
My cancer is back—it’s been back for a while actually, but I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t think it was that big of a deal—and the doctors and I have been fighting it.

“Things were looking good, too…my markers were down and I was feeling fine.
 
I didn’t think anything about it or spend any real time worrying about it either; the doctors had me on what appeared to be a pretty successful treatment regimen.
 
It was shortly after Halloween that my markers started rising again, and by Christmas, my oncologist told my parents and me that there wasn’t much more they could do and so we’re
kinda
just winging it.”

I was glad that I wasn’t the only person who was shocked by her cavalier attitude when I saw Lark’s hands grab Stacy’s arms roughly and began to shake her—or maybe it was that Lark’s own shaking was transferring onto her.
 
“Are you crazy?
 
You’re dying!
 
Do you know what that means?”

“Actually yes, I do.
 
It means no more spending countless hours in the hospital feeling so sick that it’s almost impossible to believe that whatever it is that the doctors are doing to me is actually helping.
 
It means no more watching my mom get her hopes up when the tests come back showing that instead of going down, my markers have gone up.
 

“It means knowing that I don’t have decades ahead of me to screw up in life—I’ve got a few months, maybe a year to do what I want, how I want without the excuse of ‘that’ll kill me’ or ‘that’s too dangerous and reckless’ getting in the way because my life is already going to end.

“I’m okay with this, guys.
 
Really, I am.
 
The doctors told me when I was seven that I might not even live to be ten; I proved them wrong for over eight years.
 
That’s pretty good from where I’m standing.”

Lark shook her head, as though unwilling to accept what Stacy already had.

“This isn’t right.
 
This isn’t fair.
 
Robert, you have to do something, you have to change it,” Lark implored her brother.

He reached out towards his sister, sadness weighing on him heavily as he told her what she already knew.
 
“I cannot.
 
I don’t get to decide these things, Lark, you know this.”

“No.
 
You’ve saved Grace’s life, you’ve defied her death over and over again—you can do this for Stacy.
 
Do this for her, Robert.
 
Or for me.
 
Do it for me, please.”
 
She pulled on the lapels of Robert’s torn jacket, tugging at it with such strength its seams finally gave up and fell apart in her hands.

I closed my eyes and pressed my hand to my mouth, unwilling to accept that Lark was actually begging her brother for something, even if it was to keep Stacy alive.

“I am tied to Grace, Lark.
 
You know this—I can no more allow her to die than I can myself,” Robert tried to explain, but Lark wouldn’t hear of it, her head shaking roughly, her movements causing Stacy to shake as well.

Graham and Stacy watched the exchange between brother and sister with utter disbelief written on their faces.

“No.
 
It’s not supposed to be this way,” Lark cried before falling to her knees in weak defeat, her hands releasing Stacy, her arms falling to the ground.
 
“It’s not supposed to happen like this.”

I didn’t understand what she was saying but as she bent over, I knew immediately what she meant.
 
I grabbed Stacy out of the way and looked at Robert who already had his hand on Graham’s shoulder.

“Let go of me, Robert.
 
Something’s wrong with her,” Graham shouted as he struggled futilely against the iron hold that Robert had on him.

“Nothing is wrong with her, Graham.
 
Everything is right—trust me on this.”

“Trust you?
 
You’ve been reading my mind for the past six months, digging through my head and…aw hell, you’ve got wings, man.
 
I’m not exactly sure who I can trust at the moment, but I’m fairly certain I’m not supposed to trust a guy with wings—and what’s with the black?
 
Angels aren’t supposed to have black wings, man!
 
Let me go!”
 
Graham struggled but Robert effortlessly pulled him away from Lark, Graham’s feet leaving deep drag marks in the soil.

 
“Graham, relax,” I hissed.
 
“You’re going to miss it.”

He glared at me but allowed Robert to pull him towards Stacy and me.
 
“Miss what?
 
She’s losing it over there, Grace—I can’t let her do that alone!”

I shook my head and pointed to the silvery-white lines curling and stretching across Lark’s back, like thin fingers pushing up against her flawless skin.
 
She tried to sit up but the pressure of what was growing beneath her flesh was too much and she doubled over, her mouth open in a silent scream.

Seeing the pained look in her face caused Graham to once again rush to help her.
 
Robert’s hand darted out and grabbed Graham’s jacket.
 
Graham shrugged out of it and landed on his knees in front of Lark, one hand trying to raise her head, the other rubbing the growing protrusions on her back.

“What’s wrong?
 
What’s wrong, Lark?” he asked in frantic concern.
 
“What’s happening to you?
 
What’s going on?”

“She’s growing her wings,” Robert replied
cooly
.
 
“You need to step away from her, Graham.
 
She’s never done this before and sometimes it can be very…violent.”

Graham shook his head in defiance.
 
“I’m not leaving her.”

Robert shrugged and walked away.
 
I looked at him, shock registering on my face.
 
“How can you leave him there?”

“He won’t die,” Robert said nonchalantly.

“Sure…but even if he were, you wouldn’t tell me, would you?” I retorted, turning my head away to watch the couple before me, still fearful for Graham’s safety, though a lot more confidant now that I knew he wouldn’t be seriously harmed.

“Like I said, this isn’t about you, Grace,” was all he said.

Though I had seen Robert’s wings grow at least half a dozen times since he had gained them, he had never shown just how painful their emerging was, never given any indication that he felt any to begin with—his face was always so calm and still, a small smile always on his lips, as though he actually enjoyed it.

Lark, on the other hand, was in obvious agony.
 
Her hands were digging into the soil without any resistance, her palms pulverizing whatever lay against them.
 
As the branches on her back began to fan out and her skin began to stretch, her mouth opened once again, but no sound came out.

No sound that anyone could hear, anyway.
 
No one but Robert, who visibly flinched.

And me.

The piercing shriek that filled my ears was much like the one that had come from Sam as he lay bleeding from the wounds I had inflicted, only this time the frantic and desperate cry sounded like a dying choir, the chords slicing and stabbing at me with an eagerness that cut off my ability to scream.
 
I slammed my hands over my ears, futilely trying to block the sound from reaching the deepest recesses of my mind, but there was no stopping the onslaught from the deadly song.

The force of each shrill note reaching me was like a hammer slamming into my mind, and I fell to the ground, my knees cushioned by the leaves and soft earth.
 
Stacy and Robert were at my side immediately, Stacy unaware of what was going on, and Robert, frightened and confused.

The haze of red began to sweep in and cloud my vision; I heard Stacy gasp.
 
“Her eyes are bleeding!
 
Robert, do something—she’s bleeding all over, oh God, what’s happening?”