Ebony Wings

16

~Ali~

The sleek tuna can blunders from my grasp as I plummet in a cloud of snow-clumps and ice shards. My organs feel liquefied, slipping around my body to places they don't belong as the crystalline landscape blurs into a white haze around me. Charcoal rocks bite through the compact snow below me, reaching skyward, ready to catch me in their waiting teeth.

A scream dislodges in my throat, whatever sound that escaped instantly lost to the wind. Tears leak out my face from the cold or fear or both, so I close my eyes, as if erasing the image of the ice sheets below me will soften the impact.

From no where, a heavy pressure clenches around my waist, like a python ruthlessly constricting its prey, tightening the harder I resist. I think it is the air pushing against my body as I fall, my body spasming from shock as I turn limp and rubbery. My back arches, head jolting from the impact as pain flares up my neck. A sudden, final jerk and the world rings a whiny, high-pitched din in my ears. My heartbeat is a distant, heavy thud in the back of my head, an ache burning the side of my head with each beat.

My breath returns to my lungs in a short, sharp intake, followed by a series of deeper inhalations which I slowly force into my nose and release shakily through my lips. My head lightens with each breath and my vision swims back into clarity, as if the weight of fear had pinched the optical nerve.

I slowly run my fingers up my legs, past my hip without any pain and across my stomach before plunging into velvet plumage as I slip my hands over my shoulders. Like two, great sails unfurling from its post, Ethan's wings release its hold around me, returning to gather behind his back. His chest moves deeply behind me, warm breaths curling behind my ears. A nervous laugh escapes me.

"Ethan!" Jack's dark silhouette glides off the side of the cliff. Snowflakes pirouette downwards, raining over me under the draft of his wings. Jaz hovers nervously over the rocky edge, the snow cap once jutting outwards now glittering snow dust around my ankles.

Jack lands heavily on the powdered snow and lifts me from Ethan's body. He groans in response behind me as I find my footing. Jack guides me to a jagged rock, quickly checking me for obvious injury. Upon finding nothing physically alarming, he returns to tend Ethan. I dab streaks of blood from the shallow scores on my palms and brush off the pebbles from my knees. My neck twinges faintly if I move it too far to the left.

I press the backs of my hands into my eyes trying to relieve the pressure inside my head. It helps some and after a few moments, the pressure gently slips away. That's when I realise the spiderweb crack splintering the rock under my feet. My gaze follows the jagged crevice, thickening and deepening the further I trace its path away from me. Suddenly the rock splits open like broken eggshell, rubble littering the impact zone. Ethan is splayed across the epicentre, the frozen ground beneath him caved into the ground, blood pooling around his shoulder.

Jack hooks an arm over his shoulder and muscles Ethan into a sitting position, exposing the bloodied lacerations cleaving his skin open. A strangled cry bubbles from my lips. I almost faint from the sight.

I did this.

His right shoulder hangs slack out of its socket, clumps of rock gathered in his wounds. Blood blooms beneath the unbroken skin, sending his legs and neck into a marble of vibrant yellows, harsh purples and deep indigos.

Jack reaches for the arm hanging limply by Ethan's side and I turn my head at the distinctive pop. A shallow intake of breath is the only indication that Ethan felt any pain at all. With the wounds criss-crossing Ethan's back already drying out, the smaller gashes slowly crusting over, Jack returns to Jaz, deftly climbing a vertical trail. 

A tendril of hair flags across my face, my nose pink from the chill. Between the fluttering strands, I watch Ethan push himself into a kneeling position, then standing.

His eyes are steely. But not angry or blaming. Pain, most likely, clouding them grey. He moves this way tentatively, then more powerfully as he continues, as if with each step he gains strength.

By the time he reaches me, the most serious gashes which would have cost a human man his life are mostly sensitive scar tissue and dried blood, turned brown against his clothes.

He's close now. But he advances again until I can feel the heat from his skin brush mine. For a moment I don't react. Then his gaze softens and coaxes mine to meet. Somehow we are closer still, his fingers seeking mine, which are tucked neatly at my sides. He tugs them free, entwining our fingers.

"Ethan!" Jack throws an impatient gesture over the precipice.

Ethan's hand melts away as his gaze lightens. If it wasn't for the squeeze of his fingers on mine, I could have almost convinced myself that the whole interaction was a divine, post-traumatic hallucination.

"Let's go, Princess." His arms gently nestle around my bruised waist. As if sensing the pain, he adjusts his grip slightly. "We have an Elder to find."