The Next Full Moon (7 page)

Ava had blocked it out until now. It had been hard enough just to get from class to class, insisting she was fine
even as sweat dripped all over her and she was about to die of heatstroke or humiliation, whichever came first.

She pushed her fingers up farther and felt more feathers coming off her skin, as if she actually
were
wearing a jacket, or, worse, picking a scab. The feathers were all stuck together now, it seemed, as if they'd grown into each other. She winced as she felt them come off her skin, as she lifted the feathers and pulled.

It was so gross. There was a slight sucking sound as the feathers pulled off. She reached up to feel her skin underneath, and her fingers stuck into what felt like a web.

She stopped, shuddering, and sat down on the couch, away from the sliding doors now. Catching her breath, she tried not to throw up. Pulling off the feathers couldn't be more gross than actually having them, could it?

She took a deep breath, and pulled some more, terrified she would rip off her own skin or do something similarly awful.

She whimpered out loud. Monique gave her a disgusted look from across the room.

“
You
try growing feathers and then peeling them off,” Ava grumbled. Monique rolled her eyes and slinked away.

There was a sound from outside. Quickly, Ava grabbed her hoodie and slipped it on. Feathers fell to the floor.

Had someone seen?

She shuffled to the sliding door and then peeked through,
pressing her face against the glass.

It took her a minute to focus past her own reflection, through the glass and to the yard outside.

There, right in the middle of the grass, was a bright white swan. Ava blinked. She must be dreaming, she thought. This was all so
weird
. When did swans start hanging out in the backyard? She could swear the swan was watching her, too.

Ava took a deep breath, yanked the door open, and stepped outside.

The swan didn't move.

It just stood there . . . staring at her.

It was really beautiful, glittering and shimmering in the moonlight. Ava thought about other swans she'd seen, randomly in her life, like when she and her dad visited her uncle in this city in Florida that had a big lake filled with swans as well as swan sculptures scattered all through town. Her favorite had been a huge bejeweled one painted pink and purple.

But those swans had been sort of . . . ungainly. Strutting around and honking and stretching their long beaks around and burying them in their own feathers.

This one wasn't ungainly at all. It stood there quietly, soft, like a cat.

“Hello?” Ava whispered.

Beyond the swan and the grass the trees rose up and the woods began. A faint breeze passed over the yard and in the
distance, the leaves rattled.

Ava stepped forward.

“Are you watching me?”

She almost expected the swan to answer, and was a little surprised when it just stood there, unmoving, staring at her. A second later, in a swift movement that scared her, made her gasp, it lifted its wings and swooped into the air, disappearing into the woods.

Ava sighed. Not even swans wanted to be hanging out with her now!

And then it hit her.

Of course.

It seemed crazy that it hadn't occurred to her before.

She was growing feathers, there were all these swans popping up everywhere, with their shimmering, glittering feathers, just like her own . . .

Was she turning into a
swan
? Her mind raced. Had she been bitten by a swan . . . in her sleep or something?

Like . . . SPIDER MAN?

Hadn't he been bitten by a RADIOACTIVE SPIDER or something?

The world seemed to spin around her.

Had she been bitten by a radioactive swan???? What did a radioactive swan look like? Did they glitter? Did regular swans who
weren't
radioactive glitter in moonlight?

She entered the house in a daze and flopped down onto
the couch, her mind swirling.

She tried to think of when she might have been bitten by a radioactive swan. She must have been sleeping. Wouldn't she remember something like that? But then she imagined herself saving kittens trapped in trees with her incredible swan powers. Stopping crimes and arresting bad guys. She'd probably have to move someplace where there
were
bad guys. Her dad would have to let her if she was a superhero, right? She wondered if Jeff Jackson would be impressed when he found out, or if it would be too intimidating for him. Maybe he had a secret superhero identity as well? If not, perhaps she could find a radioactive swan to bite him, too.

Then she bolted up in horror.

What if he wanted to be bitten by a radioactive beetle?

Ava tried to calmed herself. The feathers were obviously making her crazy. Totally, one thousand percent looneytunes.

She stood up and took a deep breath, then went to her bedroom and turned on the light. Superheroes were nice and all, but she wanted to be normal. Just a normal girl.

She could save kittens as a normal girl, too. Maybe she would ask her dad if they could go to the SPCA tomorrow. Monique was probably lonely; it's what probably put her in such a bad mood all the time.

And so she closed her eyes, grabbed hold of the feathers on her left arm, at the base, just above her elbow, and pulled.

The feathers came off with a surprising ease now, almost
as if they were pushing themselves into her hands. Even though it was an unpleasant feeling, she did not allow herself to stop.

The feathers pulled off, making a soft, gross
squiching
sound, and leaving a paper-like, web-like film over her skin.

It was gross and beautiful and astonishing and horrifying all at the same time.

She kept pulling. Finally, the whole thing came off. In one piece, all the feathers. She sat in shock for a moment, holding the feathers in her hand, letting the garment—that's what it was, some kind of jacket—stretch out, the end falling down and scraping the floor. It seemed to have a life of its own. A strange energy, filling the room.

She dropped it onto the floor in horror, watched it smooth out as if it were letting out its breath, and stumbled to the bathroom.

Flicking on the light, she expected a hideous sight to greet her. Her skin disgusting and covered in webs, dead skin, god knows what else. By now she'd believe anything at all.

She blinked against the fluorescent light. And blinked again.

Her skin was perfect. She turned around and looked at her back, over her shoulder, but it was fine. Better than fine. It was her old self staring back at her, and yet . . . her skin was creamy and smooth now, like milk, or porcelain. Her hair looked shiny and thick, falling down, covering her slight
breasts. And there was something else, something less easily definable. She seemed older, more poised or something. More, she realized then, like her mother. A kind of carriage her mother had had that was clear in every photo of her.

Had she imagined the feathers? Suddenly everything seemed so unreal. Ava ran back to the living room, and the feathers were still there, on the floor. She bent down and ran her palm across them, and they were soft, wonderful. As soft as the fancy mink coat hanging in her grandmother's closet, from the olden days, way back when.

She lifted the garment and hugged it to her. It smelled clean and fresh, like winter. The feathers tickled her nose. It was like a giant pet, wasn't it? A much sweeter, softer one than Monique.

Suddenly, a knock came from the front door. Ava froze on the living room floor, horrified. It was just after midnight; her father wouldn't be home for hours.

Immediately, she shoved the feathered garment under the couch, as if it were a suitcase full of stolen diamonds. She pulled on her hoodie, a habit by now, and tiptoed to the front door. Trying to walk so softly that no one could hear, so that she could pretend that no one was home. Monique padded along with her, rubbing herself against Ava's ankles.

Barely breathing now, Ava stood on her toes and looked through the peephole.

It took a second for her eyes to adjust, focus in.

Outside was a woman with long, glowing white hair. She was dressed in a pale dress, and awash in moonlight. Her eyes were icy blue, enormous jewels. And she was staring directly at Ava.

Ava jumped back, terrified. She had to remind herself that the woman could not see her. Then she looked back through the keyhole.

The woman knocked again. She was so beautiful. Why would a woman like that be knocking on their door?

Ava opened the door, her hands trembling.

The woman smiled at her, and it was the kind of smile that felt like cookies in the oven, warm and comforting. Ava smiled back despite herself, even though her heart was pounding and she was more scared than she had ever been. She could feel Monique cowering at her feet.

“Ava,” the woman said, and her voice was soft and musical. “My name is Helen. I've come to see you.” She spoke as if it were perfectly normal to arrive at someone's doorstep for the first time, past midnight, and on a school night no less, being totally beautiful and glowing and having eyes like jewels.

The image of the swan flashed across Ava's mind. She shook her head, disoriented.

“How do you know my name? Who are you?”

“Well,” the woman said. “I know your mother. I have a message from her.”

“My mother?”

“Yes. I was sent here by your mother. There are things you need to know.”

T
he whole world seemed to have been remade in silver. The Brooks' house across the street, the trees outside, the pathway leading from the front door to the street, her father's old truck sitting in the driveway. This moon-haired woman at the door.

Ava stared at the woman, confused. “My mother is dead,” she said. “She died when I was a baby.”

The woman looked surprised, slightly, for a moment, and then said, gently, “Dear, she is dead . . . to this world. But there is more that you don't know yet.”

Ava stepped back. “Are you a ghost? Have you come
to take me to heaven?” She thought of the ghost stories Grandma Kay told her, where spirits appeared to take people to early deaths, though the ghosts in those stories were never exactly movie-star beautiful like this. “I'm too young!”

“I'm not a ghost. But I will explain everything.”

Ava narrowed her eyes. “Let me touch your arm to make sure.”

Helen held out her arm, and Ava reached out and placed her palm on it, feeling the soft fabric of her dress, and the flesh underneath.
Definitely not a ghost
, she thought, slightly disappointed that her hand hadn't gone straight through. But then who was she?

“If you're not a ghost, then how do you know my mother?”

“I will show you everything if you come with me. You were not old enough, before now, to know the things I'm here to tell you.”

“How do I know you're not a robber or a murderer?” Ava had watched
Law and Order
with her dad and knew that you couldn't trust just any stranger who came to your door at midnight.

“Because I know your mother. I know what's happening to you. I know that you're growing a feathered robe and probably have no idea why.”

Ava's mouth dropped. “Were you spying on me?” Her mind flashed again to the swan in the backyard.

Helen stepped forward, reaching for Ava's hand. “Ava, we've all been keeping watch over you since you were born. Your mother, too, after she came back to us. You're a very rare, very special girl, you know.”

Ava pondered this. She
was
exceptionally bright, she knew. And she was very, very good in math. Her teacher had even called her a shining star once, when she'd solved a complicated multiplication problem more quickly than anyone else in class and won a trophy for it. Of course it was just a picture of a trophy that had been laminated, but still.

Plus, she
had
just grown and shed a feather garment. And she was a doppelganger.