Sun Catch Her (Book 1: Three Rivers Deep series) COMPLETE

Chapter Twenty-Nine | A

The shifting wind hit me in the face, and I squinted, pulling the blanket up around my shoulders. It wasn't cold outside, maybe a little cool in the shade with the constant breeze of unseen wind devvis on patrol, but I kept the fabric close anyway, more so out of obligation than anything else. Its slippery, smoke-colored threads were an experimental blend that Alex had been working on: silk with a trace amount of baryonic dark matter bonded to its atoms.

Yes, it was the same one he gave me the night at the movie theater. It was dark matter cloth. Fancy that. Apparently, it could cloak a devvi's aura. A wind devvi, sent from Alex, had showed up to present it to me. He might have been the one called Ai, it was hard to tell.

Taking a careful bite of peach, I was conscious not to drip juice on the cloth as I rocked my sitting weight from one hip to the other. The root of the great oak Micah had moved us under while we took a break from my sight lesson was hard. Above us, autumn- yellowing leaves swayed in the breeze and sunshine to make shadows dance across the thick trunk where he was slumped in a comfortable lean, arms folded, closed eyelids soft. His ash mane shifted about his relaxed face. His jaw line was stubbled with a couple of days of personal neglect. He was trying so hard for me.

It made him look even more handsome. Rugged, I decided with a solemn gaze shifting to where he parked his motorcycle close to a logging trail.

I had to admit: the ride here had been an exhilarating one, with the wind in my hair as I squeezed his waist tight from behind. The dusty backroad had given way to raw earth and the musty smell of sun-warmed ferns when we turned into the woods and rose out of the valley. Our valley's grouping of factory smokestacks was two hills away, the golden-brick twins towering over all the others in their grandeur. The horizon was hazy from the constant steam and accented in late day golds and reds, the color blending to make pink lemonade.

The downward-sloping field we were in was thick with grass and hidden thorns. Pleasant to the eye, but not overly safe without jeans and shoes. Mine were off right now—the shoes, that is. Perched a few feet away, lined up in a neatly fashion on the same tree root I sat. My new footwear. Indy had gotten them for me during her trip to New York. They were a brand I was unfamiliar with, dark grey in color with silver pinstriping, the tread aggressive enough for rugged terrain. Perfect for a mad dash through the woods.

I rolled my eyes. As if. No more blind marathon sprints through the underbrush, thank you. The socks I had on were the thickest I owned, knee high. No chance of showing the underfoot scarring.

Having finished my dinner, I dropped the peach pit into the grass for any squirrel or chipmunk that might happen upon it and wiped my sticky hands in the grass. A wind—a natural one—crossed the land from the west to sway treetops on the opposing hill before reaching us. With a fitful rustle, the autumn-hued trees encircling the field rose and fell together as one. A cold front was coming in fast and would be here sometime after dark. Just peachy.

I set my gaze on the restless landscape before closing my eyes, and with a slow exhale, I counted backward from four, as Micah instructed, pressing my tongue to the roof of my mouth to carefully tense a spot behind my eyes. The pressure induced a faint pop. With a slow inhale taken through the nose, I counted back up to four, tensing fingers but not facial muscles when I could feel my pupils recede. The odd sensation consisted of a haunting, inward-sinking. It also burned like the itch of a healing wound, but at least I now had better control over what mode of sight I saw with.

Wishing I had a mirror on me for the hundredth time, I slowly open my eyes to gaze at the shifting trees. Micah told me I had a quite different appearance to his or any other devvi. My pupils receded, but instead of having an iris with blue, fluid movement, the surface of the blue crystallized. The outer edge of my iris was rimmed with a thin line of liquid gold. He warned me not to show my eyes in their spectral version to just any devvi. For in his world, just as it was for the humans, greed coveted what was rare. Someone might hunt me down just for my eyes, poach me like the rare animal I was.