Authors: Marianne Curley
Man
, I have so much to look forward to!
I’ve seen Skade through my dreams, and I know what I’m seeing is real because Skinner is now in them. He starts back at school today, and I still haven’t come up with anything to tell Danny and the others. I gotta check my schedule when I get up, but I have a sinking feeling I have another free period today, so I’ll be meeting Skinner again to update him on my progress with breaking Ebony up from Thane.
I used to love my free periods. Now they’re just another facet of my life that sucks.
After Ebony left my room last night, I wanted to sleep and forget the day I had. But when I closed my eyes I slipped straight into a dream where Skinner was waiting to take me on a guided tour.
He showed me the capital, a city of high-rise buildings with a river running through it, where the enslaved souls work for dark angels. Whatever skills the soul had when it was living stay with them when they die. If a dark angel could use your skills, you could be lucky enough to live with his or her family. But if you don’t have any you get sent to one of many factories – the one kind of place you don’t wanna end up.
The air in the capital stinks with the horrible stench of decaying flesh from any number of dying animals. Wild beasts, in particular, will jump off cliffs in their constant hunt for fresh food. On a calm day, the pungent odour of toxic smog settles over the city courtesy of endlessly erupting volcanoes that plague the wider landscape. Two deeply coloured moons illuminate the night with purple light, while in the daytime, if you’re lucky, you might catch a glimpse of a dull red sun.
Man
, I can’t wait to get there. Where do I board the train?
I get outta bed and take a long hot shower. It helps my mood a bit, so I throw my uniform on and head down to the kitchen. Ebony is already there, standing at the bench wrapping a sandwich.
‘I made lunch for you,’ she says, handing me a bulging paper bag without making eye contact.
‘Thanks.’ Cautiously, I ask, ‘Does this mean I’m forgiven?’
She shrugs. ‘Maybe.’
‘Are you saying you’re OK with what happened last night?’ I lean forward enough to check out her face. ‘You saw things, didn’t you? Things I was imagining us doing together?’
Two bright spots of colour appear on her cheeks as she looks up and our eyes fleetingly connect. ‘You have quite an imagination,’ she says, wrapping her sandwich for like the tenth time.
I can’t believe how easy she’s making this for me. No yelling, screaming or even throwing sharp implements at my head. I don’t deserve her leniency. I’m the one planning to have her heart crushed. ‘I’m not thinking those things all the time.’
‘Whoa, that’s good to know. Thank you, Jordan, I can go to school now and not think you’re imagining me naked all day.’
I’m not missing the sarcasm; I’m ignoring it because I don’t wanna fight and lose her friendship. And, well, when she dumps Thane, she’s gonna need a friend. ‘Does this mean you can read my thoughts now like Thane does?’
She waves her hand in the air dismissively and pops her lunch in her backpack. ‘I wasn’t reading your thoughts last night. I saw images, and I think that was because we were sitting so close together when we were . . .’
‘Kissing.’
She flicks a glance at the opening to the dining room as if checking for the quickest exit. ‘I was going to say “touching”, but . . . look, about that . . . kiss.’
‘I know. I get it. The Guardian thing.’
‘It did things to your head last night, and since your mind was already pliant from the vodka . . .’
She leaves the rest hanging, but turns to me with a determined look on her face. ‘I’d like to forget what happened last night.’
‘Sure.’
At least she’s still talking to me.
I lift her backpack from the bench, but she takes it from me. ‘Ebony, can I ask you something?’
She tilts her head to the side. ‘What is it?’
‘Do you
really
believe you’re my Guardian Angel?’
Her forehead creases as she pierces me with a hard stare. ‘Where is this going?’
I woke this morning knowing only that the darker my thoughts get, the more vital my need to keep Ebony in my life, and there are two things standing in my way – Thane, who’s going to have her for the whole of eternity, so why shouldn’t I have her for a few years first? And the other is Prince Luca, who wants her too, and who blackmailed me into helping him.
My mother is the innocent one in the middle of all this. She’s the one who’s suffering right now, imprisoned in Prince Luca’s palace. He gave me the chance to free her. If I break the lovebirds up my mother can be where she belongs – back on Earth, living out the rest of her life as she should.
But my love for Ebony won’t let me just hand her over. So how do I break the lovebirds up – and consequently free my mum – while keeping Ebony safe from Prince Luca?
Only one solution comes to mind.
Get Ebony to fall in love with
me
.
‘Is there something you should be telling me, Jordan?’
I reach for the car keys hanging on the wall. ‘You know, Ebony, Thane has an amazing physical presence –
when he’s here
, but without him as a constant reminder that this other dimension exists, all the supernatural stuff seems surreal. Even a tad
unreal
.’
She follows me down the hall to the garage. ‘I don’t know what you mean. Angels exist. That’s a fact.’
I try a different approach. ‘He promised he’d be back, didn’t he?’
‘Yeah, so?’
‘I’m sure he doesn’t want your memories fading to the point that
his
world feels like a dream.’
‘Nathaneal will never feel like a dream to me.’
She would say that.
We get into the Lambo and when I reverse out Ebony gazes into her lap. ‘I’m sorry, Jordan, I don’t mean to mention his name every five minutes.’
‘It’s every four, but who’s counting.’
We glance at each other and grin.
‘Thane’s absence will pass before you know it.’ I really wish Thane would stay away longer. I could do with three weeks to win Ebony over. ‘What about those wings of yours? Any signs they’re emerging yet, ’cause that would be proof, right?’
‘Wings would definitely be proof, but there’s no new sign . . . yet.’ She shakes her head and frowns. ‘And since no one except Amber saw those first growths I can’t confirm what they were. I have no evidence to take to a lab for testing.’
I throw my head back and laugh, imagining a feather in a sterile container. ‘I’m not sure a lab would be helpful. But, hey, you must have freaked out when you saw them.’
‘They were just bumps of tough skin. I thought I had a disease.’
‘Your wings have to appear before you turn eighteen, don’t they?’
‘Yeah, or apparently I’ll never be able to fly.’
‘Living on Avena and being the only one permanently grounded,
man,
that would suck big time. Can you even make the trip through the Crossing without wings?’
‘They have to put you inside a kind of bag made from impenetrable fabric they call a
lamorak
and carry you, at least until they find solid ground.’ She sighs and opens her window, letting the wind blow her hair back. ‘Anyway, I have heaps more training to do before I can go there.’
‘Before you leave, you mean.’
‘Pardon me?’
I point out the difference. ‘When you say “go there” you mean “leave Earth forever”.’
‘That’s harsh, Jordan. I could always return through the Crossing for a visit.’
‘Immortals don’t count time. They don’t use calendars. They don’t grow older than eighteen. They never look older than twenty-something. Think about it, Ebony: months, years, decades could pass that you wouldn’t be aware of, up there in your love nest.’
‘Jordan!’
‘What? You think this is going to be easy on your friends, on your horses, on your parents when they return? When you remember to visit us mortals, we could be really old. I’ll probably be dead. Amber could fall off a horse, or get cancer and die,’ I chuck in for good measure.
Her eyes become stunningly violet just before she turns her face back into the wind.
I pull over to the roadside where a small parking bay gives some great valley views. We sit without speaking for a few minutes.
‘That won’t happen to me. I won’t forget anyone.’
‘You don’t know that for sure.’
‘And neither do you!’
She has me there. ‘True. I’m just saying, look how quickly time passes for humans. Imagine how inconsequential time is for angels who live in a world where they don’t even count it. You get busy with the things you have to do. Before you know it, a whole lifetime on Earth will have passed.’
She sniffs. ‘Jordy?’
‘Yep?’
‘That won’t happen with Nathaneal,’ she says, trying hard to keep her voice steady, ‘will it?’
‘You said he loves you, right?’
‘Isn’t it obvious? Don’t you see it when we’re together?’
I shrug. ‘Not really.’
Her face drops.
‘But I’m not looking, you know.’
She glances in the direction of Amber’s place. From here, with her amazing eyesight, she can probably make out the charred remains of her own house next door. She’s been through a lot. Not just the fire but losing her parents too. I remind myself that I’m doing this for my mother. No other reason than to free Mum. And because I love Ebony, making her fall in love with me will keep her out of Prince Luca’s grasp.
At least now I can tell Skinner I’m making progress with planting serious doubts in her head. Hopefully he’ll get off my back for a while.
‘Jordan, do
you
think I’m an angel?’
I try not to react. It’s the most vulnerable I’ve seen her yet. But Thane will be home soon. Who knows, maybe even tonight! I can’t miss any opportunity to forge a gap between them. ‘Everyone makes mistakes, Ebony.’ I start the engine and get us back on the road before we end up late for class.
‘So you’re saying Nathaneal made a mistake in thinking I’m an angel?’
I have to swallow hard not to choke on the lie that sticks in my throat. ‘Well, Jezelle did bring up a valid point about your eyes not being vivid enough to be angel eyes.’
She stares straight ahead. ‘I remember.’
‘No one’s perfect,’ I add, giving her more reason to doubt herself. ‘Not even angels.’
14
My compulsory twice-a-week counselling session is so unproductive Rebecca Vaughn lets me go early rather than risk me falling asleep in the chair.
‘See you on Thursday,’ she says, while running her long manicured fingers across the keyboard as she sums up another dismal session in my file. ‘Same time, OK?’
I pick my backpack up and head to the door. ‘Sure, if I still have to?’ I glance at her hopefully.
‘You still have to.’ She looks up. ‘Ebony, you’re a powder keg waiting to explode.’
‘Excuse me?’ She’s never been this direct before. ‘Rebecca, I don’t feel like a powder keg.’
‘And there lies the problem.’
I frown.
‘You don’t believe your parents died in the fire that destroyed your house.’
They didn’t. But I can’t exactly tell her how I know this.
‘It’s been months, Ebony, and until you can accept that your parents passed away –’ she pauses as if she’s changing her mind, tucks a stray black curl behind her ear – ‘you will keep seeing me twice a week.’
I stifle a groan and open the door. Her voice stops me from escaping into the corridor. ‘One more thing.’ I glance over my shoulder. ‘If you need to skip class again, drop in here first and let me know. I won’t stop you, but we can have a quick chat, all right?’
Does nothing slip past this woman? ‘It was just one class at the end of the day,’ I say. ‘Anyway, how did you find out? Did Mr Zavier report me?’
She adjusts her reading glasses higher up her nose, giving me a grim smile. ‘It’s my job. See you on Thursday.’
By the time I visit my locker, I’m late for English and walk into the middle of a lively debate about celebrity laws. Taking a seat in the middle row next to Sophie, I watch with a growing sense of disconnection until the buzzer sounds.
Third period is Physics.
Amber is waiting outside Mr Zavier’s lab, the first of six in the Science Block. Sophie sees her and waves, walking straight in behind a group of five boys, seemingly in a hurry to find her front-row seat.
‘Are you OK?’ Amber asks. ‘Shall we skip class again?’
‘And have to report to Rebecca for extra counselling sessions? Thanks, but I’ll pass, though it sure is nice to know you’d do that for me.’
‘I’d take a bullet for you,’ she says. ‘And, before you say anything, I know you would for me.’ I love how she trusts without having to think about it. ‘Just nod or wink or something non-physical and I’ll get you out, pronto.’