Feathermore

Feathermore

LUCY SWING

ISBN:
1470020874

ISBN-13:
9781470020873

DEDICATION

To my family, who make all things meaningful and possible.

CONTENTS

prologue

I knew what was happening, even though I could not understand why. I was falling; that much was unmistakable. The air rushed around me, buffeting me.

What would I do once I arrived? Would I even remember this past existence? I closed my eyes and resigned myself to the feeling of peace that the wind beneath me always brought.

Soon it would all be over.

I finally reached the ground. A shiver of energy ran across my skin and back as each cell began its transformation. I was being born. I opened my eyes and glanced around at the strange, colorful world. The trees stood tall, casting shadows like great carpets unrolled from their bases. The sky above me was like a dome closed over a music box. I had never seen anything more beautiful . . . had I? I shook my head to clear the haze.

I tried to balance myself on a fallen tree trunk. I wasn’t used to walking on these feet. I looked down, wiggling my toes, and let go of the tree and took a few steps forward. My body felt heavy, and then darkness fell over me.

1 BLINDED

“
Jade! I swear, if you don’t get up now . . .” Mom closed the bedroom door, trusting the threat of the unsaid to throw me into motion.

I groaned and kicked off the warm covers.

“
I’m up!” I called back to her.

I sat up on my bed and dangled my feet over the edge. It was the first day of senior year, and I was dreading it.

I moved over to the closet, where I chided myself for being too lazy to pick an outfit last night. I grabbed a pair of denim shorts and my old AC/DC long-sleeved T-shirt and made my way to the bathroom. I was almost done with my morning routine when I heard the door creak.

“
Jade? Are you almost ready?” My best friend’s high-pitched singsong voice called from behind the door. “Are you decent?”

“
Yeah, come in. I’m almost done.” I leaned closer to the mirror and applied the black eye-liner to my lower lid. Claire sat on the edge of the bathtub and played with a strand of loose hair. She was wearing a white blouse embroidered with pink flowers that flowed weightlessly over her body, accentuated only by the glimmer of her tanned skin. She seemed to always look effortlessly perfect,

Summer had been uneventful; we mostly spent our days at North Beach, lying around and soaking the sun, cooling off with the occasional dip in the ocean. Granted, after the first week of doing absolutely nothing, things got kind of boring. There is so much one can do in a sitting position at the beach. I shouldn’t complain though, watching half clothed boys was very,
very
enjoyable. Instead, we opted for something a little more active, hiking. Hollow Falls is entrapped by long miles of forests, so finding the right spot took us close to three weeks. It was worth it. Our favorite spot became what we began calling as ‘Fantasy Land.’ The tall, maple trees casted shadows on the forest floor. The magical silence that seemed to weight upon us was only interrupted by the creaking of leaves, branches and bark under our feet. Beyond the three mile walk there was a glittering creek, surrounded with gravel banks, where we enjoyed the rest of our afternoon splashing about.

“
Ready for another fun-filled year of schoolwork?” She met my gaze in the mirror, and I left the memories of sunny, carefree days behind as I rolled my eyes.

“
It’s going to be torture,” I said, putting my makeup bag back in the drawer. “But at least it’s our last year.” I picked up the messenger bag from the floor next to my bed and gave my room another quick glance. I shouldn’t be in a rush to get out of Hollow Falls, but somehow I needed to. Hollow Falls is home to 5,385 people, and, as the song goes, “where everybody knows your name.” I felt suffocated in such a small town. I had dreams of going places, things I wanted to do that I couldn’t see myself doing in this pesky, minuscule town.

Claire followed me downstairs. Mom was in the kitchen, busy packing my lunch. On the table were two plates of pancakes, eggs, and bacon.

Claire was as big a presence in this house as I. We seemed to be attached at the hip, and she practically lived here—mostly because of Trent. He was another foster kid in the Langleys’ house, and a total creep.

“
Mom, I’m not really that hungry,” I said.

“
You’re going to need all the energy you can get, just to stay awake after last night.”

Claire’s eyebrows scrunched in puzzlement.

“
Oh, Mom, it was just a nightmare.” Not precisely the truth, but as close as I was willing to let things get. It wouldn’t go well if I told them what really happened—what had been happening all summer long.

Claire and I sat down at the table, and I was surprised at how hungry I actually was. After I had stuffed myself, I pushed around what was left on my plate. Deep in thought, I felt my eyelids get heavy, and that quickly I was lost in the darkness behind them.

“
Ki-sikil-lil-la-ke
,
” came the whisper that only I could hear. As the word rolled softly out, a flash of red burst in the darkness. I gasped and open my eyes in shock.

“
Are you okay?” Claire’s voice was distant, as if muffled by an invisible water bubble around me. It was the cool touch of her hand on mine that brought me back to reality. She was staring at me.

I wanted to tell her everything. All about the eerie yet wonderful dreams of a gorgeous dark-haired stranger who kept me awake night after night, haunting my sleep. And about the nightmares of being chased by the dark figure with fire instead of hair. How I woke up night after night gasping for air the moment the figure caught up with me, its icy fingers digging into my arms. But how could I? I gave a low, soft sigh and went over to the kitchen sink, dropping my plate in it and giving Mom a kiss.

“
Ready?” I asked Claire, ruffling her perfectly styled blond bob in passing. I giggled and ran to the door to keep a safe distance from any retaliation. “’Bye, Mom,” I yelled, running outside and down the driveway, where I waited until Claire caught up.

“
I am so going to get you later,” she said as she pulled out her compact mirror and fixed a few loose strands of hair.

“
There, there. All perfect now,” I said as we began walking. I felt a little twinge of jealousy. She
was
perfect. Between her golden hair that seemed to shine like ripe wheat, and her perfect almond-shaped gray eyes, I sometimes had a hard time being next to her.

Brushwood High was only a few blocks from my house, and the weather was nice, so we walked. The sky was bare of clouds, and the temperature was perfect. The streets were quiet. Only the soft
eep, eep
of a chickadee, staking out his turf in the rhododendron bushes, broke the silence. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, absorbing the last bouquet of summer smells: honeysuckle and chamomile and horsemint and new-mown grass. Once winter came and the cold started seeping into our bones, we would be forced to take Claire’s yellow Beetle to stay warm.

Brushwood was different from any other school I knew. It was privately owned, and mostly only well-off parents could afford the tuition. I had often wondered why my parents worked longer hours just so I could go there. An even bigger mystery was how Claire’s foster parents managed it.

The school was ancient. Its gray limestone walls made it seem cold, but the inside was anything but. The building had once been a mansion, and the owners kept it that way, though with a few add-ons, such as the cafeteria and a brand-new west wing. The rooms were big, considering that they had to accommodate only about twenty students each.

We were walking along the narrow hallway, deep in conversation, when someone banged into me, knocking the few books I was carrying to the floor. I looked back, even though I knew who would be standing there: Amy Crayhill, all-American mean girl. She grinned at her minion, Savannah, and mouthed a fake
Oops!
my way. Typical.

And when I turned back around, there he was! Tall, muscular—and holding out
my
books.
Hello, Muscles!
My eyes worked their way up to his face. As if that body weren’t enough, his face almost made me melt.
No way. Gorgeous!

Claire was staring at him, her mouth slightly open. It seemed she agreed with my assessment.

“
Here you go,” he said, handing me my books. His low and deep voice sent ripples of intensity through my body.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even make my mouth utter a simple thank-you. I just stood there gaping like an idiot.

Claire exhaled loudly and took the books from him. “Thanks,” she groaned as she pulled me toward our lockers. “What’s gotten into you?”