The Hybrid (24 page)

Gertrude
, he thought. He managed to repeat her name
three more times before everything was gone.
Two days later, a female voice whispered from the
trees above Edyn’s head. “Psst.”
Edyn
groggily
opened
his
eyes. The
sky
was
pitch
black, but after a few seconds of adjusting, his eyes focused, making everything visible as if it were the middle
of the day. His shoulders were sore, and felt as though
they were popping out of their sockets. He looked up at
his painful wrists ⎯ dried blood on his skin was visible
around the edges of the ropes. The twine that bound his
wrists together had been completely saturated⎯ though
they were dry now ⎯ taking on a strange brownish-red
color.
“Psst,” the woman repeated, hoping Edyn would see
her this time.
Edyn gazed up into the trees, scanning them wildly for
the face that belonged to the voice. “Airi?” he whispered,
his eyes focusing harder in the darkness. If any normal
human were to share his vision at this moment, they
would say it was like looking through the lenses of nightvision goggles.
Airi, I know you are there. I can hear your thoughts.
Plus you breathe incredibly loud
. Edyn spoke formally
and eloquently, even in his weakened state.
His senses came back to him slowly. Though his hands
were
still
fairly
numb,
he
slowly
wrapped
his
hands
around the rope that kept him tied to the balcony, and
lifted himself up, trying to relieve some of the stress on
his shoulders. The pain between his shoulder blades was
unlike anything he had ever felt before. It felt as if his
spine
had
been
cracked
into
several
different
splices,
making him think that if he tried to stand, he would bend
in about four different places from the torso up. But it
didn’t matter right now. Edyn continued to pull himself
up the rope, hoping his weakened strength would be
enough to get him all the way to the balcony.
Edyn, I am here.
Airi did not speak aloud.
Suddenly, her arms were wrapped around Edyn’s torso, lifting him in the air.
“You need to get out of here,” he whispered. “It is too
risky.”
“Threl is unconscious on the other side of the village.
He will not be returning anytime soon.” Airi continued
lifting Edyn’s fragile body until they hovered in the air
above the veranda of the throne room.
Airi, what have you done?
He spoke without moving
his lips, though he had already known what she had done.
“Nothing bad. I promise.” Her high-pitched voice was
quiet, and comforting. Edyn was thankful, though he
didn’t have to tell her.
She gently set his body on the wooden planks of the
small porch. Edyn groaned as his back pressed against
them. His arms were now resting gently in his lap, his
knees bent, and his feet flat against the wood.
“My apologies!” Airi whispered anxiously, realizing she
was a little too forceful. She had never seen Edyn in pain.
The Fey rarely ever felt pain. Their inhuman strength
made sure of it. And seeing him so weak brought tears to
the rims of her eyes. “I need to get these ropes off of you.”
Quickly, Airi untied the intricate knots of the thick
ropes around Edyn’s wrists. As she did, she frantically
looked around the forest, hoping no one was witnessing
her heroic rescue. Her long fingers pulled the knots apart
effortlessly, freeing Edyn’s hands within a few short seconds.
Edyn groaned again as he rubbed his wrists, and the
thick indentations where the ropes had been. “Thank
you,” he spoke softly.
“We must go now,” Airi whispered. Though Edyn was
at least a foot taller and more than sixty pounds heavier
than
she
was,
Airi
scooped
up
his
body
without any
amount of difficulty. Within seconds, Airi and Edyn were
nearly sixty feet in the air, moving at the speed of sound.
Airi flew fast, faster than Edyn did, and with extreme
agility. She could anticipate every possible move of every
single thing around her, knowing exactly when a bird
might cross her path, or a tree might fall. Edyn gazed at
the treetops as they moved through the air, the night sky
above them becoming hazy and dim.
“Where are you taking me?” he spoke quietly, looking
at her face as it hovered over him. His eyes were slowly
loosing focus.
Airi looked down at her friend as he fell in and out of
consciousness. She feared he wouldn’t make it, so she
pushed through the trees, even harder and faster than
before. “Edyn, please⎯ hold on, just a little longer.”
Edyn’s half closed eyes stared up at her. He opened his
mouth to speak, but no words escaped his lips.
“Edyn?” Airi shook his shoulders, trying to keep him
awake. “Edyn⎯ please, we’re almost there.” Edyn’s eyes
closed as his head fell back against her forearm. “EDYN!”
Moments later, Airi was standing at the edge of a
riverbank with Edyn’s limp body dangling in her arms.
“Mother!” Airi shouted into the trees that lined the winding river.
Slowly, a young woman, outfitted in a white chiffontype floor-length dress, descended toward the water. Airi
knew her mother was beautiful, but the woman never
seemed to brag her elegance on the other members of her
village.
Her
hair
was
the
same
beautiful
red
color
as
her
daughter’s, though it was long and curled naturally into
tight tendrils that flowed down her back, ending just
above her behind. Her skin was tanned, nearly the same
shade as Airi’s, and her markings, black as night, contrasted against it stunningly. Her wings were much larger
than any Airi had ever seen in her lifetime, a regal cream
color, with flecks of gold in them that glinted in the
moonlight as she walked gracefully across the grass that
framed the edge of the river. Her feet were bare, and impeccably spotless, and her delicate hands showed no signs
of aging whatsoever.
“Airi,” she spoke slowly in her smooth voice. Her golden eyes shimmered just as her wings had before as she
looked at the young girl.
Airi gently lifted Edyn’s body close to her chest. “Can
you help him?” Edyn’s head fell to the side, his hair falling
over his closed eyes.
“Is this he? The prince?” Her mother paused, reaching
a hand to Edyn’s head, pushing his hair away so she could
look at his face. When she could see his face clearly, she
pulled away, as if a small spark of electricity had shocked
her. She remained motionless as she continued to look
down at him.
“Yes. Yes it is. Can you help him?” Airi gripped Edyn’s
body tighter as she questioned the woman before her. Her
eyes were frightened, but her voice remained calm.

A few hours later, Edyn woke to the sound of the river
below. As he sat up in the hammock he had been nestled
in, placing his feet on the ground, he looked around. He
was in a large open room, much like the grand throne
room of his own village. But this room was much more
inviting, and warm. The sun streamed in through the
open spaces between the tall, white wooden pillars that
supported the ceiling. He had to squint, something he had
never had to do before. The sun burned his eyes. And as
he threw his arm over his face to block the light, he noticed
the
large
strip
of cloth
that had
been
wrapped
around each of his wrists.

Suddenly, there was a faint noise coming from a narrow doorway behind him. “You are awake!” Airi said as
she
walked
into the
room. She
was
carrying a
small
wooden platter. Edyn could see a plate of food and a cup
perched atop it. She nearly dropped it as she glided
through the room to his side. “Here,” she handed him the
cup. “Drink this. It will help you.”

Reluctantly, Edyn grabbed the cup
⎯
carved from
some type of animal bone⎯ and sniffed the gooey, thick
green liquid inside of it. “What is it?” he asked, looking up
at Airi.

“It is a tonic. Mother made it. She says it is meant to
help you regain your strength.” Airi sat on the hammock
beside Edyn, clutching the wooden tray in her fingers. “I
brought you some squab, as well.” She lifted the plate of
meat from the tray, and gently placed it on Edyn’s lap. “I
thought you might be hungry.”

Edyn’s stomach gurgled as he looked at the charred
meat. Quickly, he drank the green liquid, without taking a
breath, and handed Airi the empty cup before hurriedly
pulling the bird meat off the bones in smaller, easily digestible pieces. Squab wasn’t his favorite, but it would do
for now.

Edyn looked around again as he chewed. “Where am
I?” The room surrounding him sparkled in the sunlight.
Flecks of gold were embedded in the pillars, like glitter
that had been splattered across them, and as he looked up
at the ceiling, he could see that it was completely coated
in more gold, that reflected the light of the rising sun.
Hanging from each of the pillars was a bushel of vines
and brightly colored flowers, planted in small metal containers. The room smelled fresh, like spring.

“Riventalis, of course.” Airi said, somberly. “My home.
My room.” She looked around the space happily. The
white floor beneath them had her family’s emblem engraved into it, the mark of royalty.

“Why have I never been here before?” Edyn asked,
swallowing hard. His throat throbbed, though he wasn’t
quite sure why. He had rarely ever felt pain before, and
feeling that sensation now made him feel weak.

“Listen, Edyn,” Airi paused, looking away from him,
“when you are finished, Mother would like an audience
with you.” Airi set the cup on her tray as she rose from the
hammock. “There is much the two of you must discuss.”

Edyn looked up at her, setting the plate on the hammock beside him. “What is there to discuss?” He stood
hurriedly ⎯too fast he realized instantly as he wobbled
back and forth ⎯ and angrily. “I am no longer one of The
Fey. My wings have been taken. I have been stripped of
all my abilities. It is a miracle that I am not dead!”

“Edyn
⎯ please. There is much more at work here than
you know.” The young girl in front of him looked worried,
scared even. She appeared to be much younger than him,
but
had the
wisdom
of
someone
much,
much older.
“There is a clean pair of clothes there on the table.” Airi
pointed to the iron table beside the hammock. “I will give
you some time to change, and then I will come back and
bring you to her.”

Slowly, Edyn turned away. Airi gazed at the bloodsoaked bandages that ran down his spine. Tears slowly
pooled up along the edges of her eyes. She hadn’t told
him how bad he truly looked, but she had a feeling he
could sense it.

“Just go,” Edyn finally said after a few seconds of silence.
“I am not your enemy. You brought this on yourself,
talking to that
human
.” She looked down at the ground as
she headed for the narrow doorway. “And
you
cannot
stop him. Not anymore. Not now that you are one of
them.” Airi’s throat made a slight curdling noise, as if she
were disgusted by something. But she didn’t say another
word.
Moments after Airi’s departure, Edyn grabbed the animal skin pants and cloak from the table. He dressed
quickly, careful not to disturb his bruises and bandages
along his back. When he was finished, he walked out of
the room and onto a large terrace that overlooked the river, far below him.
Riventalis was much like Artensia, high in the trees,
hidden slightly from the world below. The differences
were mostly just external, but still noticeable. For one,
there was a winding river, nearly twenty feet wide, that
separated the village into two separate pieces ⎯ though
planked bridges were drawn over it, connecting the two
halves together. And where Artensia was made of the
dark wood from the pine trees surrounding his home,
Riventalis was gleaming in white birch and aspen wood,
gilded with gold’s and creams, making every inch of the
village sparkle in the morning sunlight.
“This way,” Airi said quietly as she landed on the birch
veranda. She held out a hand, waiting for Edyn to take it,
and when he did, the two were instantly in the air, soaring toward another ledge that protruded from a much
larger structure in the trees. “My mother wishes to speak
to you in private. I must go back to Artensia for now. Your
brother must not know that I had anything to do with
your escape.” As Airi released Edyn’s hand, his shoulders
ached as if someone had punched a hole through the bone
beneath the skin. The wooden porch was cold against his
bare feet, and it sent a slight shiver through his body. The
cloak was meant to keep his body warm now, but it wasn’t
helping much. The cool air around them felt like ice
against his paling skin.
“Thank you,” he said, rubbing his bandaged wrists. But
Airi did not look at him. And she didn’t respond.
Within seconds, Airi was gone, leaving Edyn standing
on the balcony, completely alone. He turned toward the
doorway of the grand structure. It towered over him by
nearly thirty feet. As he looked at the room, he noticed
that it looked similar to Airi’s room, only much larger and
much more regal.
“Come in,” a soft voice echoed through the doorway.
Edyn slowly advanced through the entrance to the hall.
The contrast between the bright outdoors and the slightly
darker hall caused him to squint again. And when his eyes
had finally adjusted to the dimmer light, his gaze landed
on the woman who had spoken. His breath skipped, and
he struggled to catch it again.

“Edyn,” she spoke softly, and slowly, with her arms
outstretched. “My dear⎯ sweet boy.”
Edyn remained motionless as he looked at the woman.
He hadn’t seen her in nearly one hundred and fifty human years, but he was almost positive it was the same
woman. Her hair was longer, and she bore slightly different markings on her flesh, but he would never forget that
voice. He would never forget her golden eyes that could
be so loving and so forceful at the same time. He would
never forget her calmness, or the way she held him when
he needed her.
But Edyn couldn’t think of the right thing to say now,
as he stood before her. He couldn’t collect his thoughts as
he once had, and it frustrated him. He could remember
the days when he would have every question lined up, one
after the other, for the day he saw his mother again, and
now that the day was here, he was at a loss for words.
“Edyn, my child. Please ⎯ be seated.” Suddenly, a
chair was moving closer to him from a far corner of the
room. But his mother hadn’t moved. And neither did he.
Not even as the chair stopped beside him, did he take a
seat. “Very well,” she said.
Edyn looked at the woman with a slight hatred behind
his eyes. “Why did you leave us?” he blurted out angrily.
But his mother did not move.
“I did what I had to. I knew what your brother was doing. I could see it in his future. I saw what he was capable
of. I could not stand and wait for it to happen.” She
looked at Edyn carefully, analyzing his face. “I had to
leave. I knew I was leaving my family, leaving you unprotected, and for that I am sorry.” She hung her head as she
moved across the floor slowly, closer to Edyn.