Of Immortal Make

A Messenger Arrives: Part 4

The wings sprouted from the back of a man, whose long, pin-straight hair matched their coloring. 

His eyes—large, piercing, and golden—were fixated on her father like a predator zeroing in on its prey. His hands were bound with a thick rope and chain, though the bloody state of his wrists showed his failed attempts to bite and claw himself free with the black, razor-sharp nails that sprouted from his fingertips. He was shirtless and barefoot, crouched on long, strong legs that were dressed in rough-spun pants. 

Her father said something else to the harpy, who uttered a single word in response, which even she could make out by reading his lips from her perch on the hill: "No."

Grandfellow Gavin nodded and turned his attention to the carriage driver, who flicked his reins. The cart, creaking with the weight of its contents, started rolling, when the harpy suddenly lunged forward, slamming his body against the iron bars and rattling the entire carriage. Commander Tristin's swords were out in a flash, standing between her father and the cage, Ansel at her side with his hand on his hilt. A dozen men had also run forward, spears drawn, as the harpy stared down her father with loathing, insatiable rage.

It was then that an ear-splitting screech erupted in Nadiya's head. She groaned, grabbing her temples, willing it to stop. 

The harpy, eyes wild, smiled wide, showing a row of teeth stained with his own blood, and laughed a horrible, human laugh that echoed off the Wall. He sat back on his heels and closed himself within his wings once again as her father stepped forward and threw the sheet back over the cage, covering his new project.

***

"Hey, are you okay?"

Theo was shaking her. "Come on, Diya, we have to go back, I am way late!"

She had lost herself staring at the carriage as it disappeared into the back-streets towards the stone Research Tower where her father worked. The screeching had stopped, but now she had a headache fit to take down an army.

She regained her composure and stood on unsteady legs, wiping the dirt from her pants. "Ah, sorry. I—I'm fine. But what in the Shadow was that noise?"

He squinted, leaning close as though he could see the source of her pain if he looked hard enough. "What noise? You sure you're okay? You look like someone cold-cocked you."

Nadiya rubbed her forehead and sighed, the pain finally fading. "Uh—yeah. I just got a bad headache out of nowhere. Nothin' to worry about."

"Hm, when you get home you should ask Elly to make you tea with a sprig of mint in it. Old Hunter trick from Dad." He clicked his teeth and looked at the darkening sky. "Mom's gonna kill me."

"Yeah, she is. Damn. I'll take the blame for this one, Theo," she said apologetically, her eyes glancing at the spot where her father had led an uneasy Jasmine after the carriage. "May as well take the long way home. Let's skip the tunnels and just go down the hill."

"Thank you for not pre-punishing me before my inevitable punishment."

"Worth it, though?"

"Definitely."

They didn't speak again until they turned onto the main street that led to the modest cottage by the Market District where Theo and Grace lived. The rumors had already made their way from the North Gate, and they passed groups of excited patrons and pub-goers buzzing about the victory. Alehouses that lined the Traveler's Bazaar were packed with crowds of Trappers and Hunters loudly telling their tales.

"A harpy, Nadiya! A real-life, in-the-flesh, live harpy," Theo exclaimed, finally breaking the silence. "I mean, I've heard of Trappers bringin' in wolfkin left and right, and one time that big ol' mooncat matriarch—you remember, the one they paraded through the Bazaar? But all those chimaera were already feral, so obviously there's no talkin' to 'em. But a harpy?! It spoke to your dad, didn't it? I mean, of course it did since harpies don't go feral. Dad used to say, if you're one of the unlucky ones to turn, at least hope you sprout wings so you don't lose your mind like the rest of 'em."

He was rambling, and Nadiya let him. She felt lightheaded, her mind flashing to the way he harpy had smiled. His laugh rang in her ears. He had been a human, too... once. But just like all chimaera, he fell into a deep, feverish sleep at some point in his thirteenth year as his human body transformed.

"He must'a been born in the Wild," she finally chimed in. "Or... I don't know, somehow escaped from a colony somewhere to have made it to his age. But how would that even be possible?"

In all colonies, when unlucky children fall ill and enter an unshakable sleep for days, their families—in accordance with the Law for the Perseverance of Humankind that all colonies ascribed to—must alert the Trappers, who wait in solemn silence with the nervous mothers and fathers for their child to awaken, or die.

And those who wake are not the same. They are turned, their bodies taking on a new form—that of a chimaera.

They are then read their Revocation of Rights before being collected and brought to trial before the colony's Governor, whose responsibility it is to either sentence them to death, or have them bound, caged, and used for research.

In Windrich, those deemed worthy of research are sent to Grandfellow Gavin's tower—and they are never seen again. In accordance with the law, the mother of the chimaera and any other children she's birthed, turned or not, are then summoned and sterilized before being released back to their family.

Everyone knew it by heart: All Good Citizens of the Colony must adhere to the law, lest humanity face ruin again.

Gavin had explained to her once that, while much is unknown about why the chimaera blood is awakened in some but not others, and why generations may come and go without it appearing in a bloodline, it is understood to pass through the mother. And so, sterilization is necessary to end the chain.

If a child makes it through their thirteenth year unturned, they will remain human. But if the change happens, a chimaera could turn feral at any time. They lose all sense of language and attachment to humanity, fully conforming to their wild nature to the point of successfully coexisting with the beasts they mirror in form and behavior.

This happens at some point to every chimaera—except harpies.

A man stumbled out of an alehouse, landing in a drunken heap at their feet. "'Ey, kiddos!" he slurred, peeking one eye open. "Di'ja heah? They—hiccup—caught uh—hiccup—'ARPY! An' the Gran'—hiccup—felluh is gonna—hiccup—cut it up real... nice..." He fell asleep, his face resting in half an inch of murky water, and Nadiya stepped over the sleeping form.

Sure enough, Grace was pacing in front of the door, her usually kind demeanor nowhere to be found. Before Nadiya could open her mouth to take the blame, she caught her son's elbow and dragged him inside, giving him an earful about how she went looking for him, how disappointed his father would be, and how sorry he was going to be eating a stone-cold meal.

Theo stole a glance back at Nadiya, who mouthed a sincere apology before turning to face her own scolding from Eloise back home.