“Tell me,” he continued. “How do your wings feel?”
The directness of the question caught me off guard and I felt myself blush suddenly. There was something about it I found objectionable. My wings were one thing that defined my very existence. I had worked hard to keep them from prying human eyes. They were an intensely personal part of me and I wasn’t sure I wanted to discuss their condition with Jake Thorn, Prince of Hades.
“I haven’t given them much thought,” I said evasively.
“Well, think about them now.”
Once Jake had drawn my attention to them I became aware of how they were throbbing beneath my shoulder blades, burning to be released. Every so often they sent shooting pains down my back. I felt irritated with him for drawing my attention to the problem. I had deliberately chosen to ignore the issue of my wings. What was the point of doing otherwise in Hades?
“We need to do something about them,” Jake said decisively. “If you want to keep them that is.”
I didn’t like his use of the plural we rather than you. It made me feel as if we were working as a team, as if we had shared problems we could tackle together. I gave him a blank stare.
“Perhaps what I’m trying to say might be better demonstrated.” Before I knew it Jake was peeling off his black leather jacket and flinging it to the ground. He turned his back to me and pulled his shirt up over his head. Then he stood with his back straight and his head slightly bowed, a humbling pose that looked distinctly out of place on him.
“What do you see?” he asked in a muted voice. I scanned the contours of his back. Jake’s shoulders were slender but well formed and not unathletic. He didn’t have bulging muscles, but every tendon was taut and lean and rippled when he moved. He looked fast on his feet and dangerous.
“I don’t see anything,” I replied, averting my eyes.
“Look closely,” Jake urged, taking a step backward so he was even closer, his back bent in front of me in a white arc. Something caught my eye then and I looked with open curiosity. The skin on his back was smooth and unblemished except for two rows of tiny pea-size nodules that ran like an extra set of vertebrae under each shoulder blade. The row of little beads under his skin, only a centimeter or two apart, looked like scarring from wounds that hadn’t properly healed. I didn’t need to ask what they were the remnants of.
“What happened to them?” I asked in a hoarse whisper, the true meaning of what he was showing me suddenly jelling in my mind.
“They wasted away over time and eventually fell off,” he said bluntly.
“From lack of use?” I asked in disbelief.
“Yes, but more as a result of retribution,” he said. “The point is that I had them too once and, believe me, they were spectacular.”
Had I caught a note of regret in his voice?
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I want to avoid the same thing happening to you.”
“But how can I stop it?” I asked my eyes filling with tears. “I’m always locked up. Unless … are you saying you’re going to let me fly?”
“Not exactly,” Jake said, before I could start to imagine what seemed like an incomprehensible thought. “It would be more like supervised activity.”
“What does that mean?”
“I am going to let you fly but on two conditions. I have to make sure you’re safe … and that you’re not seen.” Suddenly I knew why we were there. The gorge was concealed yet perfectly designed for flight.
“You don’t trust me?” I asked.
“It isn’t a question of trust. You couldn’t go far even if you did try to escape. It’s more a matter of what you might run into out there on your own.”
“So how are you going to ensure my safety?” I asked. “It’s not like you can fly with me.”
“That’s where my idea comes in,” Jake said. “It might seem odd to you at first but try to be open-minded. It really is the only way for you to survive as an angel.”
“What’s your idea?” I asked curiously. My wings seemed to know we were talking about them and strained to burst open. It took all of my self-control to restrain them. I didn’t know if I could do it for much longer.
“It’s no big deal,” said Jake lightly. “It simply involves you wearing a restraint.”
“You want to put me on a leash!” I was outraged now that his meaning had become clear.
“For your own safety,” he qualified.
“You’ve got to be kidding me! I’m not going to let you fly me like some kind of weird pet! That’s just sick. Thanks but no thanks.”
I sounded so resolute in knocking back his offer, but at the same time, I was all too aware of my wings, which were itching for freedom and pushing up against my back. The dull ache behind my shoulder blades was beginning to intensify.
“So you’d rather let them wither? You know you don’t have much time before they start to crumble and fall away like old plaster. Are you sure that’s what you want?” Jake asked.
“Why are you so keen to help me?”
“Let’s just say I’m protecting my investment. Think about it, Beth. You don’t have to decide now although we are in an ideal position.”
“If I agree I don’t want an audience,” I said suddenly selfconscious.
“There’s only the two of us here. That’s not an audience. I don’t want to see you lose your wings and you don’t want to lose them. It’s a win-win situation, don’t you think?”
“If I do it,” I warned, “it’s only so that I can fulfil my Godgiven purpose.”
“Always the optimist,” he smiled.
“It’s called faith,” I said.
“Whatever it’s called I think we should do everything we can to keep your angelic essence intact, don’t you?”
Jake’s offer was both insulting and tempting. If he was right and I was at risk of losing an essential part of who I was, did I really have a choice? My wings were one of the things that distinguished me from him and his kind. My wings were a precious gift bestowed by my Father. If I made it out of Hades, what would I do without them? And how would Xavier feel if I came back with such a vital part of myself missing?
I brushed away the tears that were already snaking down my cheeks and took a deep breath.
“Okay,” I said. “I accept.”
Jake lifted my chin with his thumb, his strange but beautiful eyes scanning my face. “Good decision,” he said before steering us to a nearby rock ledge. “Put your right foot up here,” he instructed before upending the contents of a small, carved box he withdrew from under the bike. A shimmering chain made of fine silver links, attached to a manacle pooled onto the rock. It looked like a magical object from a mythological world. I wanted to ask about its origins but held back. Jake wrapped one end of the chain around his wrist and fettered the manacle around my ankle. Being made of mesh meant it was remarkably flexible, melding around my flesh as if it were a part of me.
I looked around at the ravine in which I was permitted to take flight. The rock face rose steeply on both sides and ended in a pervasive darkness. The black waterfall flowed silently. It was like a rocky void, a strange, ghostly abyss illuminated only by the headlights of Jake’s motorcycle, which cast a pool of opaque light around us.
“Knock yourself out,” Jake said.
Although I’d been reluctant about revealing my wings to Jake, they now seemed to have a will of their own. They were so desperate for release they didn’t even wait for a trigger or a signal from my brain. I didn’t try to restrain them and a moment later my linen nightgown hung in ragged shreds from my back. The thought of flight had energized me and my wings seemed to creak from lack of use as they rose up behind me. They emitted a pale silver light of their own and I felt them humming with power. My other muscles were also coming back to life now that my circulation had returned.