Thunder: The Shadows Are Stirring (Thunder Stories Book 1) (35 page)

(SAMUEL)

U
P CLOSE,
the girl appears even more fragile. Blue veins are visible under her translucent skin and deep purple shadows lie, like pools, under her closed eyes. I can see the quick twitching of her lids, indicating vivid dreams, and the shallow rise and fall of her chest. Though her large wings are folded beneath her back, I can see her left one is out of alignment with the other. It’s the same wing I’d noticed earlier, with small patches of bare skin showing through.

Makani holds himself, rigid as a stone sentinel, at the girl’s side, and I stand just as tall next to Jamie. I won’t let him get intimidated. Placing my hand on his shoulder, I feel him straighten and I bite back a grin. He’s gonna go into doctor mode.

 Sure enough, he takes a step forward, standing on his own with his shoulders back. If I could see his face, it would hold a feverish gleam. I can feel it radiating from him. I want to grin again. Punk. He’s told me before how he deals with grownups when they have issues with his age. He acts with authority, and people are much less likely to question him due to his age. He’s gonna need that here because, to the bird dude, we’re all practically newborns.

His voice is brisk, calm, and sure. “Does she receive any visitors?”

“Her family, of course, comes through as frequently as possible. They sit by her side.”

“Does she have physical contact with anyone?

“Well, no, she just sleeps.”

“She is able to eat?”

“Yes, she swallows when we drip liquids into her mouth or place small, soft foods onto her tongue.”

“Okay. We’re ready to start things. Nothing invasive yet, but I don’t know what her parents want to witness. I’m going to say they are welcome at any time, but they may not interrupt anything I do. If they have questions about it, fine. They can ask, and they might receive an answer. But they can’t interfere; it would counteract what we are trying to do. Shall I wait, or may I begin?”

“Once again, you startle me. I would expect for you to wait until you have a full day to put in. This would count as day one, and it is half over.”

“Yeah, well. We’re here for the girl and it’s about time she had decent help. Why would we wait? I ask you again, may I begin? Please.”

He steps back and makes a gesture, like he’s welcome to it. “I will summon the king and queen if I feel it is warranted.”

“Fine.” He responds with a voice cool as ice.

Jamie steps over to the table and I walk around the other side, watching as he makes his initial exam. Storm hunkers down at my feet. With such a long lifespan, these people obviously age at a different rate than we do. I’d have guessed the girl was about four or five. She has been well taken care of and is obviously fed and washed. Despite the limpness of her hair, it is at least combed. There are no other physical injuries on her body besides the wing, which, in its current state, would be unusable even if she were awake and alert. She does not respond or flinch at his touch; in fact, she shows no outward sign of being alert at all. He chews his lip as he thinks things through and ruffs up his hair.

Then, he smiles at me. I guess we have a chance, after all. I smile back.

“Sam, I’m going to take out what we can use from both our bags; you’re going to help administer. Storm, you are going to climb up next to her and we’ll see how she responds. If she doesn’t seem to mind, you’re going to get as close to her as possible. You’re going to be her therapy tiger.”

Storm grins his feline smile and jumps to her bedside. The girl doesn’t shift or cower. Jamie nods, and Storm relaxes his body against hers. Kind of like a faithful dog. He’s almost as long as she is. Again, nothing happens. Jamie says, “Good. Stay like that. You can try purring or humming or something but, right now, you’re just offering her warmth and an extra heartbeat.

“Now, Sam, even though the rest of her body seems fine, we’re going to rub in some of these creams and things; afterwards, we’ll start on the meds. We’ll get to her wings when we’re done with the simpler stuff.”

He’s got boatloads of stuff in his bag, but he’s specific for what he asks, and the jars and vials seem to jump to my fingertips. We use everything I can imagine, with Jamie spouting off orders and directions, and Storm lying stoically at the girl’s side. Once she’s dosed and slathered to Jamie’s satisfaction, we massage her legs and turn her over to get at her back.

I follow his directions without question. He knows what he’s doing. My brain is busy cranking in its own zone, while my fingers dab and rub at the bare patches between her feathers. And that’s when we get a reaction. She whimpers and shifts her body until Storm is almost a part of her. The movement jingles his bell, and her whimpering stops, as does her trembling. Under Jamie’s order, from that point onward, we work to the tinkling music of a fairy bell. Maybe I will appreciate the noise after all. But I’m not holding my breath.

My thoughts stop churning, and I pause in my work and watch my little brother across the table. “You’re good at all this, you know? Dad’d be proud.”

His face flushes. “Thanks.”

“Did you hear what that Nicholas guy told me when we left?”

“Nu-uh”

“He said not to doubt myself, and it’s been bugging me. I hadn’t thought I was, but right now I’m thinking I do pretty well following your directions. Maybe I’m not supposed to be a Leader. Gunther even told me I was a hard read way back at the first Circle. I have no idea if I’m making the right decisions for us. I mean, I may have just signed us up to get killed.” The last sentence falls from my lips in a whisper even I can barely hear, but my eyes seek out the birdman to make sure he’s not overhearing us.

Jamie’s hands go still. “Are you serious?” he whisper-yells. “You can’t honestly believe that. Without you, Sam, we wouldn’t be anywhere. Being a Leader doesn’t mean you just boss everyone around, and then take care of everything on your own because all of a sudden you have this amazing insight. It requires teamwork and thinking on your feet. It means working with all of our strengths and weaknesses—including your own.

“You set the example in the way you handle yourself and the way you treat other people. You draw people to you and you build them up.
That’s
what a Leader is, Sam. And it’s what
you
do without even trying. That’s why you don’t see it. But you should. And you shouldn’t worry about some label anyway. Just do what you need to do. Now hand me the cream, please.” He jabs a finger towards the container I’m holding.

I roll my eyes at him but hand over the little ceramic jar. About two hours have passed and we’re at a point where we can stand back to take it all in. On her stomach, Zephyra’s face is turned into the nape of Storm’s neck. He has fallen asleep and they breathe in rhythm. On her own, she curls her injured wing around his fuzzy body. I release the breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. This is working.

“You’re a genius.”

“Don’t say that yet. My next move is risky. It’s something I’ve been thinking over since I first saw her wing. If we want to restore her mobility, it’s what I’ve got to do.”

He drags his arm across his forehead and turns to get Makani’s attention. I look over, too, and I’m shocked to see tears running silently down his cheeks. His body is taut.

“What is it? Are you okay?” Jamie asks in alarm.

“Child,” he says, his voice rough around the edges but not as clipped, “she has not moved of her own accord since her ill-fated flight. She has responded to nothing anyone has done in such a way. We have used our Healers and human Healers and the results have been the same: Nothing. What is it you have done?”

“Not much yet, to be honest. She will need applications of all of these creams around the clock, for a few days, and a couple more doses of the medicines. Storm will not leave her side until she is ready, nor will Sam or I.” As he says this, I realize it’s true and neither of us will be getting sleep for quite some time. “She should be at least responsive if not fully awake by the morning. This next part is something her parents should know about. They may choose not to be here for it.”

“Choose not to be? Why is that?”

“I think I can make her fly again.”

My heart stutters as heat flares in Makani’s eyes; he combusts into a stream of wind and is gone.

“Whoa. What’s your plan, Jamie?”

“You trust me, brother?”

“You bet, Little Man.”

“I don’t know why it was never reset two years ago, but I have to break the wing again. And that’s not the risky part. She wouldn’t be able to catch the air currents properly with her feathers in this condition. The scarring has prevented new feathers from growing back.” He pulls from his bag the armful of feathers Olivia had given him. “We’re going to try something. I’d noticed earlier that my feathers seemed to be right about the same size as the feathers on the healthy wing. And we should be able to modify them enough to make this work. We’re about to attempt a feather transplant.”

I think my surprise pushes him over the edge. His giggles start quietly. Soon, he’s almost doubled over with laughter. I am completely bewildered. When he catches his breath, he chokes out, “Oh, man, Sam, I love this place. Where else but the Shadows can I do something like this?

“I’ll need to make incisions into her skin and secure the quill shafts in a way that will allow for natural movement. Like anyone who has gone through any type of transplant, her body may reject the donor feathers. But with everything Gunther taught me, I have a good idea of how to do this correctly. And since we have a three-day time limit, we need to begin as soon as we get the go-ahead from Makani. That should give her enough time to heal and give me a big enough window in case I need to change things before her people decide to kill us or something.”

~~~

A
DAY LATER
and my hands are still tired. I can’t imagine how Jamie feels. Every once in a while, he slips Maddix’s knife from his bag and looks at it with fascination. I’m blown away by how well Jamie handled himself, what he’s accomplished, even if it doesn’t end up working; he’s amazed by his knife. Like the knife did all the work. I don’t think so.

Observing the full room, I’m pleased to see that real hope can be found in most everyone’s face. But it’s still being held in check, as if being too hopeful might bring about failure. And that’s a hard place to be. When you hit that spot, it’s time to shift your way of thinking; it’s not that your hopes are being dissed, denied, or ignored by the universe. It’s just what you’re wanting isn’t right for the growth of your soul or the timing is off.

Sometimes, life has to happen in a certain order for events to play out how they should. And that’s not some kind of platitude. Awful junk happens every day. I know this; I’ve seen the Sliders. I’ve been a witness to death and destruction. I’ve lost both my parents. Life is not about constant smiles and sunshine. It’s about a balance. Dad always said the human soul and psyche are much stronger than we give them credit for.

Whatever the case may be, no one is talking. That is, except for Storm and Zephyra, who are singing together. She’s been awake for eighteen hours. She is sitting up in her bed and Storm is draped over her lap. I can tell he’s enjoying the attention. His life has not been an easy one and, until he was moved to Gunther’s, he hadn’t had much positive interplay with people.

Jamie and I are pushing two days without sleep and are about to keel over. I pinch my arm hard. I’ve got to stay awake a little while yet.

Zephyra’s wing is straightened, the bare patches filled in, the skin a puckered dark pink around the new nibs. But it is too early to test the results. That will have to wait until the end of our third day. Jamie said he may tell them not to try until after our time is up, if it doesn’t seem fully strengthened. He doesn’t want her tearing or infecting any of the incision sites. And she’s got to start small; no flying full-out or switching to wind-mode. These guys can stay in their bird-like form and create the wind with the beating of their wings, or they can morph into the wind itself by moving their wings and body tempo fast enough. Because of both the transplant and the deterioration of her muscle tone from her two years of coma-like sleep, Zephyra will have to begin the way the Wind babies do. Jamie’s medicine can’t do everything for her.

Makani shows us where the infants learn to fly; Jamie wants to judge what Zephyra needs to do physically. He brings us to this deep canyon drop, completely covered on all sides with a dense layer of the strange sponge-mist. We stay along the level ground, peering over the ledge long enough to grasp the distance of the fall. Catching Jamie’s eye, I grin. His eyes widen at my expression, and he knows exactly what we’re doing next.

As if someone has fired a starting shot, we race forward and jump over the edge. Leaving behind an enormously shocked Makani. I’m reminded of jumping into the Grey; without the terror-induced adrenaline rush, I can fully soak in the thrill of the fall. When we hit bottom, the padding absorbs our impact without a hitch.

The birdman appears before us. “What was that?” he demands, his tone filled with anger. “You understand nothing of the properties of our clouds! You might have been killed and we may still need your skills. Zephyra may still need you.”

I stay splayed out on my back, enjoying the feel of the all-around cushioning. Sleep could be a breath away. Instead, I answer the guy, not bothering to open my eyes. “We figured if it’s safe enough for your babies, it should be safe enough for us. If we’d been seriously injured, Zephyra could be, too, when she takes her first flight. We had to know what to expect.”

Makani processes this before clearing his throat and gruffly saying, “Let me bring you to a sleeping area. We will be sure to wake you if you seem to go on for too long. The tiger will remain at my niece’s side. We will administer anything she requires; you have shown us well enough how to do it.”

“Sounds good, sir,” Jamie mumbles thickly from somewhere next to me.

Next thing I know, we’re being shaken awake by some giggling cyclonic air.