I took Akasha’s hand, feeling the warmth of her palm, and walked out the front door. Amika followed a step behind us. Akasha threaded her fingers through mine as we walked through the yard and towards the creek. The air was cool and damp, and as we reached the edge of the creek, the faint scent of wet earth and the gentle babble of the water surrounded us. As we stepped out onto the small beach along the creek, I turned to look at Amika. She blinked at my direct gaze, her cheeks flushing.
“When was the last time you flew?” I asked as I watched her. She met my eyes and blushed a little darker.
“It has been a long time,” Amika whispered, her voice trembling just enough for uncertainty to slip through. Her eyes flickered skyward, reflecting a deep longing.
“Unfold your wings, and give it a try,” I said as I watched her. “We’ll wait and help if you need it.”
Amika walked away from the tree line and rolled her shoulders several times. She closed her eyes, feeling the slight shifting of bones as they adjusted under her skin. A tremor of anticipation ran through her as she took several deep breaths, exhaling slowly after each. Her eyes remained shut, her focus inward. There was a soft popping noise, like knuckles cracking, as her wings burst forth with an audible snap. Amika cursed, her voice a raw whisper of pain, as she dropped to her knees, gasping. The weight of the new wings settled heavily on her shoulders, looking like each feather feeling both foreign and familiar.
I started to step forward to help her, but she raised a hand towards me, palm up. I stopped and watched. Despite the lingering ache, she smiled at me, determination shining in her eyes. Amika flapped her wings, feeling the push of air lifting her off the ground, and then settled back to her feet. She folded her wings behind her.
“Shall we go then?” she asked with a shy smile. I laughed and nodded. Akasha hugged me, then stepped away, unfolded her wings, and shot up into the sky. I took a step back, unfolded mine, and did the same. Amika followed.
I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my phone. We rose higher into the sky, our wings flapping, Akasha and Amika watching me as I pulled up the map and put in the destination. Then we turned and started towards the point on the map. The directions followed the road, but we flew straight towards the point. The map kept readjusting, trying to direct us back to the road. I stifled a laugh nobody would hear, but could not keep the grin off my face as I watched it keep adjusting for our changing location.
Akasha and Amika followed as I flew southwest. The landscape blurred below us, wings beating the night. We approached the high ridges at the edge of the valley. Climbing higher, our wings stretched gracefully, and we soared over, suspended in a serene glide. Then, we dove down the far side. Quick drops, fast and sudden, and then we caught the updrafts, riding on the currents as we soared again. As we neared the border of our lands, a strange prickling sensation danced along my skin. Then, we crossed a line, and it hit: a cold wash, a shiver that twitched through my body. I closed my eyes for a moment and realized I could not find that map in my head. Sydney and Anton’s presence vanished from the back of my mind.
When I searched for that place in my mind, where the whole map of Yosemite had been laid out, I found instead, gossamer threads that connected Akasha, Amika, and me. That sense of Yosemite was gone, leaving an echo of absence.
Silence.
The loss deepened our bond. I knew Akasha felt that loss just as strongly as I did. Along that bond, I could see how her eyes tightened, how her jaw set against that loss. Amika was a little more distant from me, but I could tell she was feeling that loss as well. Not as strongly, but still something she was dealing with.
I turned my attention back to the phone in my hand, trying to point us back to the nearest road. I maintained our direction, flying over the landscape below us toward the small town of Marshall Junction.
The wind was deafening. The clouds parted, and the stars twinkled above us as we flew. Far below us, we saw cars driving on the roads. Their headlights grounded, focused on the paths ahead. We kept heading in the same direction, moving over the landscape towards the place where someone waited for the delivery of Sydney and Amika. I hoped they did not expect us to show up there.
I dropped down lower towards the ground, skimming just above the tops of the trees as we continued our track towards the destination on my phone. I held it out from time to time, to make sure we were still on target. Google Maps kept trying to direct us to the nearest road, though I could not hear its voice over the rush of the wind in my ears.
It was not long before I spotted the destination in the distance. I slipped the phone into my back pocket and pointed to the clearing in the woods, a dirt trail leading up to it. There were two buildings, a barn, and a large farmhouse. The forest was thick around the clearing, but farther back, beyond it, was a smaller opening in the trees where we could drop down and approach on foot.
I angled for the clearing and dropped down, flapping my wings hard to slow my descent and touching down lightly on my feet. My boots sank into the soft earth, a reminder of the solid ground beneath, contrasting sharply with the lightness of the sky. I folded my wings back into my back as Akasha and Amika dropped down behind me and did the same.
As I walked along the narrow dirt road, I felt a prickling sensation along my skin. The hair on my arms stood. Something about the area felt wrong. I could not place the ‘how’ or ‘why’. I turned to Akasha, and she nodded as her eyes met mine. Amika stopped, rubbing her arms. She turned to look at Akasha and me.
“What is wrong with this place?” Amika said in a low whisper.
“I don’t know,” I answered just as quietly. “I thought it was just me feeling this.”
I stopped and realized I could not hear birds chirping. No insects buzzed. There was stillness. Everything seemed to have stopped to watch us. The skeletal branches loomed over us, their shadows twisting unnaturally as if they were shifting positions when we blinked, a silent accusation against unwelcome trespassers. Heaviness pressed against my skin like a dirty hand, insinuating that our presence was unwanted. I turned back to the house and started walking. Amika and Akasha fell in behind.
The road wound through a copse of trees that surrounded the property. The trees here were bare and leafless. At this time of year, I would have expected some foliage. Instead, their skeletal branches reached for us like grasping claws.
A sharp, acrid smell hit my nostrils. I winced, then sniffed harder. Metal. Oil. Gunpowder. Trouble was close. As we walked into the clearing, lights snapped on, blinding us—spotlights aimed from every angle.
A booming laugh filled the clearing. Coming from the front of the farmhouse.
“Well, well, well,” said a deep voice. “We have guests. The Lord and Lady of Yosemite have graced us with their presence. I had hoped to host your surrogate, but this will do just as well.”
I held a hand up to shade my eyes from the bright lights. A half-circle of men with guns stood some fifteen feet away from us. They held a variety of guns. I saw one man with a shotgun, a couple with automatic weapons, and a couple of large pistols pointed in our direction. Past them, on the porch of the farmhouse, stood a short, slender figure. He was bald and wore sunglasses, hiding his eyes. His half-grin was predatory as he watched us.
“You can be this evening’s entertainment, oh great Lord and Lady.” His grin widened as he leaned casually against the porch support. “Kill them.”
There was a chorus of clicks and cocks from the weapons around us as the men took aim. Akasha cursed, muttering words under her breath. She slammed her fist into the ground, and I felt a surge of energy erupt from the earth around us just as gunfire roared through the night. As the bullets struck the energy barrier she created, they stopped mid-air, suspended against the invisible shield that surrounded us.
“I can’t hold this forever,” Akasha said with an audible strain in her voice as the firearms continued to roar around us. “Go. Stop them.”
Everything slowed to a crawl as Amika ran off to my left. I sprinted to the right. The sound of gunfire slowed. The men stood frozen as I moved towards them. I could see their eyes growing wide as they tried to track my movements. I could see the lines of the bullets as they moved through the air towards me. I stepped around them and moved to the first man. He was trying to swing his shotgun to face me as I put one hand under his and lifted the weapon to point skyward. Then I braced a leg behind his knees and pushed him backwards. As his body started to move backwards, I glanced over to see Akasha trembling slightly, a bead of blood trickling from her nose—a sign of the strain her magic had taken on her.
Steeling myself, I pressed past that momentary distraction and stepped to the next man. I plucked the pistol from his hand, dropped it, and pushed him backwards. The third had a small automatic weapon, which I plucked from his hands and dropped. Then I pushed him into the man standing next to him. Moving to that next man, I pulled his shotgun from his hands, dropped it, and glanced over towards Amika. She had already disarmed every man on her side and sent them careening off in different directions.
Then everything snapped back to normal. Men went flying. Guns hit the ground all around us. My heart pounded in my chest as Amika stood next to me, taking huge, deep breaths. I heard Akasha stand up behind us and walk towards us.
“Oh my,” said the man on the porch, laughing. “Most impressive. Bravo. Do come in, we have much to talk about.”
He turned and walked into the house, leaving the door open. Men all around us groaned and rolled on the ground. Some clutched at twisted limbs, while others lay unconscious. None of them made any attempt to pick up their weapons.
That prickling, uneasy feeling grew stronger as we walked towards that house. My skin crawled, feeling dirty and soiled as I walked up the steps and through the door. The walls were adorned with mounted, stuffed animal heads: deer, elk, lions, tigers, and bears. Light caught the pearly color of the tusks on an elephant’s head. A rhino. The head of a Komodo dragon. Every inch of every wall was covered with them, their glass eyes gleaming with a life-like intensity that seemed to follow our every move. The antlers of a large elk scraped the ceiling, looming ominously like a guardian of this macabre trophy room. It was as if the house itself was watching us, the predator lurking behind each mounted beast. The unsettling display made me feel sick to my stomach.
Standing in the center of the room was our host. I stood a good head over his shoulders, making him five feet six or seven at best. Those sunglasses stayed over his eyes, hiding them. A half-grin creased his face. There was a beat of silence, his expression frozen in a way that suggested a private thrill, as if he was savoring a secret none of us were privy to. The sickening feeling against my skin grew more intense as I stood and stared at this strange man.
“Beautiful,” he said with a grin. “Are they not?”
“Not the word I would choose,” I said as my nose wrinkled at the taste of the air in the room. My stomach rolled uneasily.
“No,” the man laughed as he turned and walked from the room into the hall behind him. “It wouldn’t be, would it. Come.”
My skin crawled, but I followed. The hall led to a stairway going down. He was already halfway down. As I paused at the top, the air grew noticeably colder, sending a shiver up my spine. A low, unplaceable hum seemed to vibrate through the stairwell, an ominous undertone that heightened my sense of dread. Small lights along the walls did little to chase away the growing darkness that seeped into my bones.
‘”Come.” His voice carried up the stairway. “The real trophies are down below. You’ll love this.” His laugh echoed up the stairwell, tinged with humor and something darker. “Or not.”
Amika put her hand on my shoulder, stopping me at the top of the stairwell.
“Think about what you might lose,” she whispered, a note of urgency in her voice. “If we go down there, and this is a trap… Isn’t Sydney counting on us? And Akasha, do you really want to risk never seeing Yosemite again?”
“Of course it is,” said the voice from below. “But you’ve come this far, you really must see the rest.”
