The Usurper's Throne

3

I woke up on Saturday. I found a dress and leggings that looked like they would fit folded neatly in the bathroom. I showered and got dressed as best as I could.

Like the golden-yellow dress that Berry had gotten me, this one required the back to be tied around my wings. For now, I left it open, confident that whatever skin I might show was already blocked by my folded feather-limbs. The yearning to fly began to gnaw at me like a teething child on her mother's hand.

My hands were still sore, but I could extend them fully and the purple had faded to greens and yellows. On the back of each hand was a faded white symbol that looked like an octopus; I shivered in memory at the creature that I sucked magic from my hands. It was a memory I would not soon forget. It would haunt me for the rest of my life.

I was grateful my hands had gained relatively normal function, yet I realized their weakness when I tried to grip the shower handle. Grip strength would take some time to regain.

By eleven, I was dressed, with wet hair plastered against my wings. I could only manage carrying the hair dryer for a minute before I had to set it down, out of breath.

Now, I stood in front of the door, anxious. Practically, all I needed to do was go one room over. I glanced back to see the bed where Damien slept. The bed had been made, but it was clear that he had been sleeping there the night before. It smelled like him, like earth and rain.

I took a deep breath and twisted the doorknob with both hands, pulling the door open. I stepped into the hallway and thankfully found it silent and empty. When we arrived, I had missed a lot of the details. The carpet had an intricate red and purple pattern. The walls were painted gray and the window at the end of the hall looked like it was glass from the nineteenth century.

There must have been twenty doors that lines the hall, ten on each side. They were each heavy, dark oak. Despite the heavy wood and dark carpeting, the near white walls and natural light made the hallway breathable.

I went down to the room next door and knocked. Once I did, I winced as pain shot down my wrist. Thinking better, I lifted my elbow to bring it down against the door and knock.

Before I could knock with my elbow, the door opened, and Berry stepped out. She stopped right before running into my elbow. She looked stunned for a moment and then glanced at me.

Amusement tickled up my chest. I must have looked ridiculous. I quickly lowered my elbow and she just smiled. "Glad to see sleeping beauty is finally awake."

"Glad to be awake," I said honestly. "I have so many questions."

"I wish I had more answers," she admitted. She gestured for me to step inside her room. We went over to her couch and sat down. "How are your hands?" she asked. "They look better."

I nodded. "They're doing better. They hurt less; my grip is still pretty weak, but they're just sore. They should be healed soon," I said confidently.

"Good."

We sat in silence for a few seconds as we tried to figure out what to say. "So. Baby?" I asked.

She beamed and nodded. "Yup. Baby."

"How are you doing with that? Have you been sick at all?"

She shook her head. "Thankfully, no. My mom had horrible morning sickness, so I am thankful to have avoided it so far."

"Oh! Your family!" I exclaimed. "Do they know?"

As I looked, tears filled her eyes. I reached for her, unsure and suddenly terrified. A sense of foreboding echoed through my body.

"Naomi. My dad—he's dead."

Cold shock fell over me like I had jumped in a pool of ice water. "Oh, no," was all I could manage. She nodded slowly. I immediately pulled her into a hug.

Berry's dad.

Gone.

"What happened?" I asked softly into her ear. She pulled back and frantically wiped tears from her face.

She opened her mouth to answer but only managed a small exhale. A sob broke from her chest. I heard a snapping noise and turned to see Eric pop into the room. Teleporter? Teleporter.

He glanced between us and then sat on the other side of Berry and pulled her in to a hug. She clung to him tightly. Eric was sweaty and had leather bands wrapped around his wrists and hands. He had a black cutoff and dark pants.

I rubbed Berry's back gently. Slowly, she calmed down and pulled back. Eric gently tugged her back into his arms. "Oh," he said softly as she dug her nose into his neck. "You thought the hug was for you?" he teased gently. "The hug is for me."

"You are hopelessly selfish," Berry retorted back hoarsely, gently kissing his neck.

I gave them a soft smile, and Eric nodded at me. "Damien asked to see you as soon as you can," he said wearily.

A soft anticipation rattled inside me. My eyes darted to Berry again in concern.

Eric nodded at me encouragingly. He would stay with her, at least for a bit.

"I'll be back, Ber," I said. Then, I stood and slowly walked toward the door. A small part of me thought to ask Eric where I could find Damien. The larger part of me knew I would find him—or he would find me.

I exited the room and began walking down the long hallway toward the atrium if I remembered correctly from the day before.

"Where do you think you're going, dove?"