The Fray of Werebirds [Discontinued]

Chapter 28 - Cup Shuffle

The look on Fernando's face was priceless.

I could've mistaken him for a lost child if it weren't for his humongous size. He probably never dreamed that Sirena would give in so easily. As soon as he recovered, Fernando traded his baffled expression with an arrogant one. He puffed his chest out with pride and advanced towards his target with a rope in hand.

Whack!

The kick was too quick I almost didn't see it. Fernando's head snapped sideways. Blood trickled down his mouth. The jailbirds surrounding us crouched, ready to pounce, but they backed away when their leader made a slicing hand motion. His menacing eye traveled slowly from the foot that had just whipped him to the face of the girl he sought to capture, which was concealed underneath the shadow of her hood.

Not bothering to wipe the blood dripping off his chin, Fernando lunged to seize her, but she dodged with a backwards somersault. Her hood fell back in the process, revealing locks of light brown hair. When she landed gracefully on the tips of her toes, the jailbirds gasped. Leigh whistled and cheered noisily. Fernando released an ice-breaking roar. Brock and I exchanged triumphant smiles.

Millicent straightened up and flashed Fernando a sharp-toothed grin. With a modest shrug, she answered his unspoken question with one word: "Magic."

It was magic indeed. In fact, it was a trick that Gregory told us he had used when he was a magician. One of the games he played with his audience was cup shuffling. The game consisted of three cups and a ball. After covering the ball with one of the three cups, the magician would swiftly swap the cups' positions and the audience would be required to guess which cup hid the ball.

Gregory, though, never liked to play his games straight.

He would leave an obvious stain on the cup that covered the ball and, while shuffling, would stealthily wipe that stain off and reapply it with his thumb on another cup. As a result, most people, whether consciously or subconsciously, would mistake the newly stained cup for the correct cup.

We applied the same trick to our situation by sewing a patch of red cloth on the back of one of the jackets. All we had to do was make sure that the jailbirds, especially Fernando, noticed that the person wearing that particular jacket was Sirena. She then swapped clothes with Millicent during one of the many times our two groups crossed paths.

By now, Sirena was probably already on her way to the flock where Tamara lay awaiting. She, Jay, Ethan and Gregory had long fled the island. All we had to do was keep the jailbirds distracted and oblivious of her absence for as long as possible. So far, everything was going smoothly according to Gregory's brilliant plan.

"The noble cow is with you I'm sure of it!" Fernando hollered.

His lone eye scanned our group wildly, as if hoping to spot Sirena hidden among us. None of us made a move to stop him as he marched into our midst and, one by one, yanked each of our hoods back, first Leigh, then Brock, and finally, me.

"I saw her with you," he muttered in disbelief.

"Maybe you need to you get your eyes checked?" Leigh suggested.

That's when Fernando went ballistic. He howled, locked his fingers around Leigh's throat and lifted him upwards. Brock immediately kneed Fernando in the back to rescue our companion. The jailbird swerved, letting go of Leigh, and charged towards Brock.

My reflexes jumped into action. I managed to strike the fuming bull before he reached Brock. I punched him in the side and ducked, but I was yanked upwards.

Fernando, in his terrifyingly huge bird form, had clutched my jacket with his claws and was shooting out of the forest and into the dark sky. For a moment I flailed helplessly before I remembered that I, too, could fly, and transformed as well.

Free of his grip, I flexed my claws and swooped down to attack. I missed. His claw met my brow. Pain exploded in my head. Hot liquid burned my eyes and dark blotches overwhelmed my vision. Half-blinded by the blood leaking into my eyes, I panicked and flapped my wings frantically.

That's when I realized that I had no wings. The pain in my head had swayed my concentration and sent my bird form scampering back into its den.

I was no longer in control. Fear was.

The fall was fast and slow all at once. I was dropping straight down towards solid ground, unable to collect my bearings, let alone fly. So I did the only thing I could do. I screamed.

For one fleeting moment, the pain in my skull numbed and, squinting through my stinging eyes, I perceived three angels. Their dark silhouettes loomed contrastingly before the moon's brilliance. They emerged, not from the island, but from within the night itself.

Werebirds, I realized, Not angels.

I almost laughed then, because werebirds were far from resembling angels. In fact, they were more like -

Humans. I thought to myself. Yes, they're actually not so different after all.

And then the pain seized my head once more, jolting me back to reality. Back to plummeting helplessly towards my bride-to-be: death.