Chapter Ten
For the first few days, we were all on high-alert. Tina led a quickly formed crew of guards to keep an eye out for any former workers or angry humans looking to take the palace back. They saw a few people along the perimeter of the property, but a warning shot sent them away. Strangely, the crazy myths that Bachmann and his team had created about us all those years were the perfect defense. No one remembered that we had no history of attacking humans or that it wasn’t true that we enjoyed the taste of human marrow. Everyone was sure that we were dangerous and stayed far away.
Alex, the man who had given me the air, tried to make it into the palace, but I had to turn him away.
“I’m sorry,” I explained, my hand on his chest, “I cannot let in anyone who is not a shifter. Maybe after some time has passed, but at the moment,” I took my hand away and hardened my heart, “I must be very careful.”
“Is everyone inside alright?”
I nodded. “The palace is packed full of food, lots of clothing, medical supplies. We can live here a long time without any problem. Thank you for your concern.”
“We’re not all your enemies,” he said simply. I nodded, and then we studied each other’s faces for a moment. We had nothing more to say, so he turned to go.
Harper moved into the main office with Tina, Black Feather, my mother, and me. We all overlooked her human status because we needed her. We knew if she was there with us, unseen and non-communicative, the rumors would fly. We could maintain our stronghold on the palace without any fear because no one wanted to risk Princess Bachmann. We were thrilled to have her. She knew all the palace’s secrets, showed us how to access the basement and work the music in the ballroom. She also got us all hooked up on the communication system which Tina hacked into so that we could all quickly spread news to one another as we drifted further and further into the different wings of the palace.
One night, I was settling down into my little nest of sheets on the floor when I looked up to see Harper with an armful of broken pieces of wood.
“In the mood for a fire?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
She walked over to the fireplace and threw the scraps in, lit a match and gently brought it down to the bottom of the pile, then got on her knees to blow into the flame and help it grow. I joined her and watched as the flames licked the wood pieces, then began to gobble them up. “What are we burning?” I asked.
“The frame of my father’s portrait.”
I bumped into her with my shoulder. “You don’t mind?”
She scoffed. “He wasn’t a parent. He was a jailer. And worse, a liar. He raised me to be frightened of a world that held no dangers for me. It was only when I was away from him that I felt like I could really be myself.” She turned to me and regarded me seriously. “Do you ever feel like no one sees you? Like the world keeps turning without any idea that you’re on it?”
I stared at the fire and realized that was exactly how I had felt. It was easy to leave my family when I did because I never felt like a member of that particular group. My parents were wonderful; I loved them, but I never wanted their life. My head nodded slowly, and I turned to face Harper.
“It is surprising to hear that we have this problem in common. I never knew the president’s only child could fade into the background.”
“Oh,” she insisted, “believe me, it happens. Hey,” she said, glancing at the door, “what is your relationship like with your mom?”
“It is difficult,” I said, leaning against her as we sat on the floor. “I love her, but she denied me many things when I was growing up. I feel like she had many opportunities to help me and chose to let me fall on my face.”
“Maybe that’s why you’re so strong.”
I lifted my head and regarded her with some surprise. “You are saying this was her intention?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, it did not feel like parenting to me. It felt like anger and judgement.”
“Hm.” She stood to move back to the center of the room as the fire had gotten too warm. “Even if she didn’t mean it to happen, you are very strong and very intelligent. Something made you that way.”
We paused as my mother and Black Feather walked in. My mother nodded at me, and I nodded back, making Harper sigh in frustration.
“Mama’n Larissa,” she said, “we were just talking about child and parent relationships.”
“Oh?” My mother shuffled over slowly. She gently set herself down on the big, white couch with a loud groan and then settled back. “That sounds like a very dangerous conversation to have.”
“It is. But it is important.” I stood. “Mother,” I asked, “did you raise me the way you did to make me strong?”
To my surprise, a labored laugh came out of her. “Make you strong? No one can do this. A woman is either strong, or she is not. No one can do anything about it. If she is weak, you have to find a partner who can support her. If she is strong, the best thing you can do is get out of her way.”
“Did you do this?” I asked, suddenly nervous. “Get out of my way?”
She narrowed her eyes at me. Leaning forward a little, she answered, “No one is perfect, my daughter.”
“No. I suppose not.” I turned away from her and sat down by Harper. Black Feather looked around the room with a confused face and then just shrugged it off and sat on the other side of me. He tried to hold my hand, but I took it away.
There was an uncomfortable silence, then my mother broke it. “My daughter,” she said, “how about you sing something for us? You always had a wonderful singing voice.”
“I cannot sing for you, Mother. I am sorry.”
“Hey,” Black Feather jumped in, “come on. Let’s sing the song you taught me.”
“That is a song of welcome, not goodbyes,” I informed him and stood to leave the room.
I walked out neither angry nor happy. However, I was frightened. The thing that scared me was the lack of emotion that I experienced. It was not the calm sense of peace that I felt out in the desert; it was as if my connections between my nerves and my brain had been severed. I could not be certain if it was my grand victory that had caused my sudden stoppage or if it was something that was changing inside of me. I seemed unable to love those days, and I suddenly had so many reasons to love.
The outside of the palace was a continuous balcony that wrapped around the building in all directions. I strolled along this outdoor path on my own and looked up to see the Children glowing gently down on me. I stopped and waved to them.
“Hello my children,” I called. They glowed a little brighter, and I smiled. “I miss you.” I closed my eyes and imagined them giggling in the sky. I laughed along with them for a moment, happy that they were there with me, even if they were ghosts of stars from the past. I still needed them.
“Hi.”
I jumped a mile and opened my eyes to see Black Feather watching me. “Oh. Hello.”
He snorted at me. “Don’t sound so disappointed. We used to be lovers, you know.”
“Of course, I know.”
“Well…” He set his jaw and spread his arms in frustration. “I came to check on you, okay? I wanted to make sure you were alright.”
“That is very nice of you,” I said. I stepped a little closer to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “I did not mean to be rude. My apologies.”
He picked my hand up and held it in his own. “Don’t worry. You can be rude if you need to. Just don’t expect me to be kind to you forever if you keep it up.”
I smiled. “You are kind, little bird. Thank you. For your kindness.”
He nodded. “Can I walk with you?”
We turned and walked further along. As we went, we looked in the windows of the palace. In each room was another shifter family. Unlike the compound, here the furniture was soft and plush, everything was indoors, and electricity and water just flowed. We didn’t have to beg for it or steal it; it simply functioned.
“Do you think they will ever want to live outdoors again,” I asked him, “now that they have had a taste of indoor life?”
He nodded. “They’re all still shifters. I don’t think you need to worry.”
We continued and went all the way to the other side of the palace where there were fewer families. They were the nocturnal shifters – the bats, a family of lorises, and a lonely aye-aye. We waved to them, and they responded by turning off their lights, a very friendly hello in the nocturnal world. It was not them hiding, it was a kind of invitation – come into the darkness with me.
“Larissa,” Black Feather said, “I have been meaning to ask you about something.”
“Yes, please,” I regarded the sky as I replied, but he pulled my chin down to make me look him in the eye.
“You said in the desert that what you felt for me was something significant, but it wasn’t love. You said you didn’t have a name for it.”
My formerly numb heart started to beat again. It went so fast it almost hurt. “I remember.” A big lurch took place in my stomach. Black Feather put his hands on either side of my face.
“I was wondering,” he whispered, “if there was anyone else you had this emotion for. Anyone who you’re training? Teaching?” He stepped a little closer and added, “loving, maybe?”
I shook my head as I began to tremble all over. “No. There’s no one else.” My voice was a very soft whisper, but he heard it. He nodded and pulled me in toward his chest.
“I have a lot of room in my heart for you,” he mumbled, stroking my hair. “I know you don’t like romance, but I was thinking, with all these changes, maybe you could do with a partner.”
“I don’t want a partner,” I told him. He pushed me away from him just far enough that he could look into my eyes.
“Tell me what you want.”
I touched his cheek with my hand, and he pulled me in close again. “Is it okay if I don’t know what I want? Not yet, I mean?”
He nodded and tipped my face up to kiss me. We pushed together with our familiar ferocity and held each other tight.
“I’ll help you figure it out,” he told me. “Whatever it is that you have inside of you. You don’t have to go through it alone. Not anymore.”
We kissed again, more softly the second time, and I could a soft, distant singing. I didn’t know who it was, but in my mind, it was the Children looking down and celebrating the fact that my heart was awake and feeling all that it could feel once again.
***THE END***