Featherlight (31 page)

I was so thirsty. We reached the top of the stairs, and I caught a
glimpse of the large spire lobby. There, in the middle, was a fountain full of
clear water. I really wanted a drink. The balcony edge was only a few feet
away, I could just take two steps and jump and I’d be getting a drink of
fountain-water in no time.

“Jac-Jamie! Don’t. No.
Not
a good idea, damn it!”

John tried grabbing me, but I was already over the railing. The fall
was short, so I didn’t need my wings. The man was still raving about the folium
no-show. A few people turned my way when I dropped into the lobby, but they
were mostly watching John. He vaulted the railing and was not looking happy. I
made a break for the fountain.

“John! What is the meaning of this? Why is she not here? Does she even
exist?” The angry man spat.

“My apologies,” I heard John reply distractedly. He was still chasing
me, dang it.

“Don’t turn your back on me! I demand an answer!” I recognized the
shouting man’s voice. It was Zitan.

Finally! I made it to the water, and just in the nick of time. I
hopped up on the edge of the fountain and pretended like I had been caught by
the police. My hands held up innocently, I pouted at John.
But officer,
I
thought,
I didn’t mean to drink it.

John
approached me slowly, gently. “Stop, Jamie. Come here,” he said soothingly.

I put one foot in front of the other and slowly touched my nose with
each hand while walking on the edge of the fountain. Oh! This was harder than I
thought it’d be. After the third step, I lost my balance, fell into the water,
and began laughing loudly. Let’s have a wet dress contest. Cops versus robbers.
Good cop bad robber, or something like that.

I heard gasps. Something exciting must have happened. A handsome man
to my right was watching me, and I barely remembered to avoid my eyes. It’s
okay! I know how to resist those handsome men. Besides, I don’t have to worry
about anyone starting a Chase because it’s forbidden during the festival.

Actually, now that I was noticing, a
lot
of men were staring at
me. Oh yeah! It was because of my wet dress contest. That means I must be
winning. I tried twice to stand up and finally succeeded on the third try. The
water below me was a murky brown. My, my! I’ve been a dirty girl. Can’t drink
from that, now can I?

The stairs. I was supposed to climb the stairs, but I had forgotten
the reason. I was supposed to go somewhere… but where? And why?

“It must not have been that important,” I told myself with a shrug. The
ballroom had grown oddly silent because my voice echoed across the large room.
Then the shouting started.

The room tilted dangerously to the left. I drunkenly turned around,
trying to catch my bearings. Every person in the room was staring. It should
have made me feel completely self-conscious and embarrassed because I was wet,
but I just didn’t care, oddly enough.

“John?” I sung out, searching the crowd without meeting anyone’s gaze.
“Why is everyone looking at me?”

Several people started to move in my direction, and I took a step
back. Was this the zombie apocalypse? What the heck was going on? John was
flying towards me, and it was like he moved in slow motion. I was tackled from
the right by a man, and we went sprawling into the fountain together.

“Get. Off of me! You oaf!” I screamed, kicking my legs.

A hand grabbed my chin and dragged my face forward. I met a pair of
black eyes and realized that Zackier had been the one to tackle me. Why did he
do that? The black irises seemed to swirl with silver, and his wings started
shimmering.

My instincts lurched into overdrive, taking control of my body.
Chase
!
It screamed. The adrenaline cleared my foggy head nearly instantly. Just like
when the lullary
broke into my house on Earth and tried drugging me; my fear
had destroyed the chemical. An interesting thought to dwell on, but right now I
needed to run. Unfortunately, I couldn’t move. I was trapped here below this
man.

I shoved at him with both hands, and his weight was suddenly lifted.
John had tackled Zackier from the side, setting me free.

“Run. I can’t help you now, Jacque.” I just stared at John. “
Run!”
He
yelled, and I ran.

I
didn't even look back at Zackier. Instead, I took a running start and leapt
into the air. My wings lifted me off the ground with ease, and I heard
Zackier's wings slice through the air behind me with a nearly inaudible swish.

I
let instincts overtake all rational feeling. My only thoughts were to flee. The
only person in this world was I wanted Chasing me was John, so right now my
only desire was to win.

The
ground loomed below me twenty feet. Thirty. Forty. Zackier came closer. He
stayed directly behind as I deeply banked left. I spun to the right and
simultaneously switched directions. My maneuvering had lost valuable momentum,
but it created several precious seconds between us.

The
spire was tall, but not wide. We danced together in the air for several seconds
until I began noticing his casual style. Zackier was waiting for me to tire. My
endurance was practically nothing compared to his.

Speed.
My race was the fastest, so I needed to work that to my advantage. I was
wasting too much energy trying to out-maneuver when I should be out-flying. Immediately,
I closed my wings to my body and dropped like a bomb. Every eye on the room was
on me as I flew, watching with astonishment. There were hundreds of people, but
I didn’t let that bother me. I had to remain focused.

I
silently landed on the hard floor, going from 100 to 0 miles per hour in less
than a second. Good thing this planet’s gravity was so weak, otherwise I’d be
suffering some extreme g-force damage.

Once
Zackier was about to land, I shot directly vertical, flying past him on my
climb upwards. I let my inhibitions free, relishing in the flight. This was
what I was made to do,
born
to do. After two seconds, I was halfway up
the tower. On my fourth second flying, I wobbled suddenly, as if passing
through a veil. I had reached the speed of sound, and it made me proud to know
that everyone below had heard the sonic boom. The glass dome shattered with my
exit, releasing me into the night sky.

I
was going to beat him in a race against gravity. The muscles in my wings burned
with exhaustion, but I continued climbing. I was built to be faster and more
agile than the other races, so I had to use that to my advantage.

When
the icy wind began biting into my skin, I glanced down at Zackier. He was
keeping his distance several miles below, knowing that I would have to go back
down eventually. My sharp vision was able too see his eyes watching my movements
with seriousness while waiting for my next decision. His previously dark wings
had transformed into a deeper abysmal black.

I
mentally shook myself before the sight of him became distracting. I had flown
into the lowest layer of clouds, and my skin had collected damp droplets.

Damp
droplets. Wet wings. What had happened when I flew away from Peter in the rain?

I
goaded Zackier, "What? Are you afraid of heights?"

I
resumed my climb upwards and the beat of his wings followed. After forty more
feet, my petals began feeling too heavy to continue flying. I folded into a
ball and began plummeting back to the ground.

After
spreading my wings backwards so that they began drying without slowing my
descent, I turned belly-up so I could watch Zackier. He was gaining ground,
since he had kept his whole body folded to fall faster. I grinned. His wings were
holding the moisture inside while mine slowly dried.

When
I waited all I could, I spun around and began flying into the forest as fast as
possible. My body weighed so much, and my muscles refused to contract. This
move was all-or-nothing.

I
spared Zackier a brief glance and saw that he had been unable to follow me. He
was grounded for the moment and not looking very happy as he shook the moisture
off his water-logged wings.

I
didn’t have any time to waste, so I shot in between the trees and released a
sigh of relief as the thick foliage hid me from view. Within seconds, the chase
ended. I had won, but I couldn’t revel in my victory. I needed to get back to
the spire, to John.

I
ran through the empty city in a haze. Everyone must have been at the festival. The
air was too warm. It smothered me with moisture. I couldn’t breathe, but I kept
running.

By
the time I reached the spire, I was exhausted. People were flying around the
area, I suppose searching for me. A group spotted my limp form and began
heading in my direction. I steeled myself to resist, in cause anyone else
wanted to start a chase.

The
man in the group’s front landed silently. He was a kiren
,
and his eyes
flickered when they met mine. He tried to start a chase, but I refused. It was
much easier than trying to resist John or Zackier. There must be something in
the blood of the leader’s families that made them more difficult to ignore.

The
man’s eyes tightened with anger, and he whistled twice. Immediately, all heads
turned in our direction. Where was John? Was it a mistake coming back here? A lullary
woman appeared by my side, and took my hand.

I
followed her a few feet before Zitan said, “Leave her.”

The
woman dropped my hand immediately and stepped back in fright. How helpful. I
looked at Zitan without thinking of the implications and was immediately hit by
the chase. Not again! He was like, 30 years older than me! I tried resisting,
but it was futile.

Would
I ever get a freaking break? Out of the frying pan and into the fire. I was so
stupid, coming back here. What did I think was going to happen? I was too
exhausted to run, too tired to care. Why did I even practice resisting when
only the most powerful men were going to come at me?

John
was soaring towards our group, a golden blur in front of the stars. Too late,
he was too late. I tried running, but ended up stumbling and falling to my
knees on the mossy ground. John yelled. Men scuffled. I looked up at the noise.
John was being restrained by three black-winged men. He was fighting them but
was too outnumbered to break free. Zitan's fingers grazed my cheekbone. I
wanted to shudder, but couldn't move.

He
looked to be almost fifty years old, the same age as my father. Zitan crouched
down in front of me, a small triumphant smile playing on his lips. Was this
their plan all along? Using Zackier to tire me before swooping in for the kill?
I used my last remaining energy to spit in his face, and it felt
oh-so-satisfying.

He
calmly wiped it off with his sleeve and barked, "Hold her!"

It
didn't matter, because I was going nowhere. A man held my arms behind my back
and tugged me into a standing position. If I had been a normal girl, I would
have shut my eyes and waited for the inevitable bond to descend, binding me to
this despicable man. Fortunately, I was not a normal girl, and I was determined
to fight until the end.

I
kicked wildly, threw my weight around, screamed at Zitan, anything in my power.
The seconds stretched into minutes until it felt like eternity. John and I were
still fighting, but it was no use. I refused to hang my head, tired and waiting
for the end, so I kept struggling. Still, nothing happened. When Peter had
caught me after I left Omar’s home, I knew when the chase was ending. As much
as I hated to admit it, after the need to run abated, lust and excitement had replaced
all other feelings. In fact, the chase had ended when I had stopped struggling.

Now,
I felt nothing. No change. As long as I kept fighting, the bond wouldn’t happen.
After another minute, Zitan’s eyes and wings began to dull into their normal
black color. My instincts were calming, but it wasn’t from losing the chase. I
was winning.

It
ended abruptly. I wouldn’t be taken. Such relief. But now how could I keep
another man from starting the chase? I couldn’t fight forever. My muscles shook
weakly, and I closed my eyes to stave off the growing darkness. What a perfect
solution! A chase couldn’t start with me unconscious. Maybe John will have me
safely rescued by the time I awoke. I met exhaustion with open arms and smiled before
I fell into the darkness.

Part
XXIX

I
awoke sore and rested. A pillow pressed into my head. Sheets surrounded my
body. A bed. I was in a bed. What had happened?

A
chase. I was chased. I wasn't fast enough, and I was caught. 

The
bond was voluntary. All true chases had ended with a bond because every woman had
voluntarily submitted to the man she had assumed would be her future mate.
Their acceptance of the inevitable had sealed the bond.

Whispering.
It was John and the Marshal.

I
kept still when Marshal spoke, “I’m glad you didn’t listen to me, then. You are
the only man who is close enough for her to trust. Ha! You knew all along and
didn’t tell anyone. That’s my boy.”

“I
wasn’t positive, I had suspected enough to not risk it,” John said.