A Lightning Storm of Spark and Flame

Chapter 6

"Phoebe Grace! What in heavens name is this?" Grandmother's harsh, shrill cry wakes her early the next morning. The young woman sits straight up in bed in a panic, rubbing the sleep from her eyes until she can focus on the older standing at her dressing table. One hand grips her cane as she leans heavily on it, but the other has a tight grasp on the starling feather. Phoebe rises from bed and hesitantly approaches her. She appears totally unhurt or anything that could cause her to lash out like this, so why does she sound so distressed? Her lined face has blanched of all color and her eyes are wide as they stare without blinking down at her hand. "Why, it's merely a bird feather, Grandmother." Phoebe replies. Just yesterday, she wouldn't have dared use such attitude with her caretaker, but in light of what she'd found in her tea cup the previous afternoon, she finds that the temptation to keep herself rigidly in check has lessened its grip ever so slightly. Grandmother's gaze grows steely cold, and her fingers curl inward around the feather to crush its lovely barbs as she takes a step closer. "What did you say to me?" she demands in a low, dangerous tone, brandishing it like a weapon. "This came from no natural bird! It contains power!" Phoebe freezes, shocked. Power? How could that be? Grandmother drops the feather as if it's coded in poison and levels her granddaughter with a stern glare. "Take it outside." she orders crisply as she aims the tip of her cane at it. "Dispose of it right away. This type of power is exceedingly harmful. The creature from which the feather originated will undoubtedly harm you if you keep it in your possession. Destroy it and you will remain unhurt." phoebe retrieves the crushed feather from where it had floated gently to the floor. She gives the elderly woman an obedient nod, even though she has no intention of getting rid of the appendage at all. She understands on some instinctive level that it had been a gift. The realization should likely frighten or at least confuse her, but it doesn't. All she needs to do now is make Grandmother believe she had done as she had been told. Resolve fills her with determination. Although she can't quite comprehend what her caretaker intends to do to her, she knows that the smartest and safest thing to do at this point is to not raise suspicion. She needs to observe, after all, and Grandmother certainly won't try anything nefarious if she becomes aware that her charge is beginning to wonder. "It will be done," she murmurs as the older woman leaves the room. When she enters the study for her morning reading after breakfast, Phoebe Waites on tenterhooks for Grandmother to leave her alone. The moment she does, the young woman leaps up from the desk and begins frantically searching the shelves with her eyes. There must be something about magical birds in this vast collection, she thinks. It takes a surprisingly short time to find what she's looking for. On the tallest shelf, just beneath the jar of brightly glowing golden light, her gaze catches on several books on the subject of magical creatures. Just as she stretches on her tiptoes to reach the first one, she hears footsteps in the hallway outside. Quickly, she grabs one at random, Returns to her seat, and stuffs it out of sight in her lap while pulling the book on the desk closer. In the afternoon, she leaves the house equipped with the book she had taken, the feather, and a lighter on the pretense of following Grandmother's instructions. Instead, she takes a walk in the woods surrounding her home, taking the time to enjoy nature. As she goes, she playfully makes small wind currents and watches in fascination as leaves and small branches sway like dancers. The gentle lilt of birdsong fills her ears, but she stays alert for the one call in particular she knows she will recognize. She doesn't hear it until she has lit a small fire in a clearing, well away from any wildlife. She smiles as she manipulates the wind so that the wisps of white smoke rising from the flames bend and swirl. All the while, the starling feather remains safely in her pocket, smoothed out to glossy perfection once again. The familiar throaty cry from just overhead makes Phoebe jump. When she looks up, she spots the black bird right away, perched upon a branch that can be no more than a foot from her. Part of her wishes she could reach out and stroke that soft, shiny plumage, but she doesn't want to startle the creature away. So instead, she cracks open the book from Grandmother's study. She loses herself in the pages, reading about all sorts of intriguing creatures, but none of them is a match for a bird with almost humanlike intelligence. The flutter of wings causes phoebe to look up just in time to see the starling alight on the ground, mere inches from her this time. She goes very still, her eyes locked on the bird as it cranes forward. Amazement keeps the girl utterly motionless, taken so far off guard by this miraculous creature that she doesn't notice that the book has fallen from her hands to land on the Earth. She simply stairs as the obviously otherworldly bird begins delicately flipping through the pages of the heavy volume, its yellow claws gleaming in the dappled sunlight as it uses them like fingers. When it seems satisfied, the starling spreads its magnificent wings, calls out with a hoarse, loud sound, and dips its head and upper body gracefully before taking off to land lightly on the branch again. Phoebe digs her fingernails into her palms, and the sharp sting tells her that she is most definitely not dreaming. But then, she has absolutely no explanation for the bird giving her the sweeping bow that it just had. At least, she doesn't until she looks down at the page now displayed in the book.

SECTION 37: AVIAN SHIFTERS