Landed Wings - By Skylhur Tranqille Page 0,43
tongue. It took one our best agents some time to get her to tell us about your special Valentine to Ash. After that, we couldn’t get her to stop talking. I’m sorry to hear how hard it’s been for the two of you without your parents. It would be almost unbearable for you if you lost your sister, too.”
Her point made, she hangs up. It was just as well because I might have dropped the telephone. I was cold, so cold, in the absence of my other half’s warmth. Ivory walks in.
“Obsidian, I think-”
She stops talking and looks at my face. I know I am pale. Even my dark skin can’t cover that.
“Ob, what? What?”
“I just talked to Ash’s mother.”
I laugh, a crazy hollow sound and swallow the urge to laugh again.
“I was right. They have Raven. They’re hurting her.”
“Are you sure she wasn’t lying?”
“I’m sure.”
By now I’m howling, but it doesn’t sound like laughter. It sounds like a battle cry, or the shriek of some demented bird.
“Obsidian! Calm down!”
“Obsidian, I won’t tell you its okay because its not. You’ve got to go get Ash but you don’t have to go alone. I’ll come with you.”
I don’t say anything. Everything seems distant. I can’t respond. So I don’t.
Chapter 28: GROOMING
ASHLYNN
The gala is coming up, and I still have to get the dye and makeup. I have forgiven Mocha, mainly for convenience. I can’t go into this without a friend at my side. He doesn’t know. But I don’t feel like what I’m doing is right anymore. I’m not a killer and there’s never an excuse for taking life. I wake, for once, before Mocha does, and stretch. I open and close my wings, trying to get the circulation going. I rustle them, and a couple fall to the floor. I grimace. I haven’t groomed my wings for a couple of weeks, I sigh and sit on the floor with them stretched out. This will be hard, it’s a two person job because I can’t really reach. I don’t want to wake Mocha up, but I realize that I can’t do this myself. Usually Ivory did it, or my mother, but they’re both not here so…
“I need help.”
I talk to Mocha even though he’s sleeping.
“I can’t groom myself.”
He wakes up so quickly, I’m not sure he was really sleeping. He goes into the bathroom and comes out with a grooming brush. It’s sort of like a large tooth comb, only the spines are soft, because it just needs enough force to take out any loose feathers. He comes back and kneels beside me. I lay on the floor, wings spread out, and he starts to brush softly.
“Tell me if I’m hurting you.”
“You won’t.”
He continues brushing and I feel the loose feathers giving way. There’s also oil within the spines that comes out onto your feathers. It makes them shinier and sleeker, but also helps you fly better.
“Mocha, we have to get the stuff for the gala today. The hair/wing dye, and the makeup.”
“I know.”
I feel really tired and pampered. Grooming always does this to me.
“Well then, what color do you want? You could just be an anomaly, you know, with red hair. You’ll look exotic.”
“Ok…”
My voice trails off.
“Are you sleeping?”
“Yeah….”
“You have to do my wings too.”
“Later.”
I murmur and close my eyes. I guess he really wanted his wings groomed, because he put down the brush and starting touching mine the way he had in the park. My wings quiver and rustle. They rise up a little then back down.
“Hey, quit that.”
“Not until you get up.”
“Fine, fine. Gah I hate you.”
“Mmhmm. Sure. Ash. Sure.”
He doesn’t stop. So I get up and he is forced to move away.
“Lay down, honeybuns.”
He looks at me with genuine horror on his face. I laugh so hard that I fall back on my newly groomed wings.
“Ash…if you ever want to get me to shut up, just call me
honeybuns. I have never been more horrified in my life.”
I giggle, and he lays down muttering honeybuns under his breath. I pick up the brush and start grooming him. I’m not sure if I am supposed to groom over his scars, or around them. I don’t want to ask, because I’m afraid he might be sensitive to it. I decide not to ask and just go with instinct. I notice that the feathers surrounding his scars are very small and almost downy.
“Mocha…how did you groom your wings all these years?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you do it by yourself?”
“Ginger did for