My Voice for My Heart

Chapter 28: Realization

(A/N- Thank you all for continuing to read and vote!!) 

Dand

I dropped the man's body as soon as Balthair withdrew the knife. He was no longer my concern. Now all I cared about was Keela's too-still form.

I still didn't understand how from one moment to the next I went from bird to man, but that didn't concern me either.

Keela. Only Keela.

I heard a whisper, my name on the wind and then, "Give him to me." 


I looked at the water. A woman stood there, unfamiliar and serpentine. The water sloughed off her body in sheets. Her skin was pale with undertones of blue and green, and her hair was dark and tangled. She held out her hands, fingers clawing and grasping. Another woman emerged from the lake, this one as dark as the other was light. Her skin was almost black, and I could smell something liked over-turned earth.

"Give him to us," she said, her eyes turning black and her face splitting into a sharp-toothed grin.

I looked down at the man, and grabbing his leg, brought him to the water. As soon as he was close, the women lunged, tugging and pulling. His body floated for a moment, then the women went under. The lake frothed and boiled, white and then pink-tinged. I turned away, feeling my stomach rebel.

"I float on that lake," Finn's voice carried to me. I met his eyes and saw the fear that must be reflected in mine.

Iasan worked over Keela, calling out directions to us: get water, help him get her out of the sun. We did everything he asked without question until all that was left to do was wait. Coíseam gathered her basket from the shore, and carefully removed the items inside. She had skeins upon skeins of distaff thistle thread. A nettle caught his finger and he took an involuntary breath.

"How did she do all this?" He didn't ask the question to be answered.

Coíseam held his hand up to the light. Rab took it, turning it from side to side before plucking out the thorn. Coíseam sucked on the pad of his thumb, squeezing it and then holding it up again.

Aodhan watched Coíseam struggle with another nettle. "She has no one to do this for her," he said quietly.

Coíseam lowered his hand to his side, closing his eyes. His mouth moved as he tried to calm himself. He opened his eyes and went back to Keela's basket.

"She's started weaving," he said, holding up what was clearly a sleeve.

"That must be for Rab," Finn said, his hand stroking Keela's hair back from her face. "It's too skinny to fit my massive arms."

"Stop." Ciaran's voice carried from where he still sat, his eyes not leaving Keela. "There's nothing funny about this."

Finn watched him for a moment. "Come here," he directed in a voice that was harsher than anything I'd ever heard from him before.

Ciaran narrowed his eyes, his dark brows drawing together. He pushed to his feet and walked to Finn, sitting down beside him. Finn grabbed his hand and put it on Keela's arm.

"Talk," he commanded. "To her, or to us. Doesn't matter. Just talk. Let her hear your voice."

Ciaran's black eyes got shiny and he let out a shuddering breath.

I sat by her feet, noting absentmindedly that she had lost her shoes somewhere. I took her feet into my lap and massaged them gently. The nine of us surrounded her, mostly silent until Finn's words penetrated our shocked brains.

"Do you remember when we found her in the tree?" Coíseam started.

"She was hiding from you," I said, chuckling despite myself.

"She was hiding from you," Coíseam countered, narrowing his eyes at me.

"You're the one who ran her down," I argued.

"She's fast," Athol interjected. "She got up that tree like a squirrel."

"Should have punished her for climbing so high," Ciaran said darkly, his fingers tracing her arm before lifting her hand to his mouth and kissing it thoughtlessly. "She's has no sense of danger." 


"You're just an old man trapped in a young body," Finn said, smiling at Ciaran tightly. His voice sounded light, but for us, who knew him so well, we could hear the forced jollity of his tone. "You're always ruining the fun." 


"She was a mess," Rab said dreamily. "Hair all stuck in branches, huge knots. That dress? It managed to be too baggy and not short at the same time."

I continued to rub her feet, pressing my thumbs into her tiny, high arches. I watched my brothers hold her hand, or touch her hair and couldn't help the jealousy that I couldn't do the same. I could kiss her feet...

Iasan watched her face closely. This was the quietest he'd ever been. I noted the heavy looks passing back and forth between him and Balthair.

Balthair glanced up at the sky, and suddenly asked, "How are you all feeling?"

It took me aback. I had felt fine, my only awareness of Keela's stillness, but now that he'd asked, I noted a strange tingling along my fingers and legs. I stretched and adjusted my position, believing that the position I'd held for so long was the culprit. But the tingling spread, and with it, a growing panic I saw reflected on everyone's faces.

"No." Ciaran. "Not yet. We can't leave yet. She still needs us."


We were all moving, fidgeting and stretching, noting signs that the magic was returning, that the curse was growing stronger.

"I'm not leaving her out here," I said, equal parts angry and desperate. "It's dangerous. That man wasn't alone." 


"McKendrick."

Iasan's head snapped up and he looked around. "How did I not realize?" he said with something like shame. "But that means..." 


Balthair nodded sharply and looked at me. "You're the fastest. There's a path." He pointed and I saw a small, but well-worn dirt path leading into the forest. "It will lead you to a keep. Before entering the keep, there's a tiny cottage where a healer lives. His name is Phillip. Bring him back here." 


The sensation was itching along my spine now, but I stood up. "I don't know if I'll make it back." But I nodded once at Balthair and took off. 

It felt good to run, even though my limbs were beginning to feel disconnected from my body. My breath came quickly, my lungs expanding in a way that they hadn't in too long. It hurt, but it was a good sort of pain. I pushed myself harder, worried the transformation would start before I could reach my destination. I saw the cottage up ahead, and redoubled my effort.

I burst through the front door, coming face-to-face with a white haired man. "Keela," I panted. "At the lake." My mouth had trouble forming the words.

The man looked at me, and stood up, his stool knocked backward.

"I'm coming," he replied. "Go quickly, before someone sees you." 
I nodded, and turned, sweeping glass and small silver spoons to the floor; where my arm should have been was an extended wing. I kicked open the door and made it through, running back into the forest before collapsing.

I denied the magic. I tried to hold it at bay, but it was like trying to keep water in a clenched fist. My awareness trickled away, leaving nothing in it's place.