Winged

Chapter Twenty-Five

Annabelle

Manin with their human... Customers didn't head towards the thin staircase like the rest of us, no. They were led around a corner and behind an open satin curtain towards wide, grand carpeted stairs that, I assume, would lead to more... private areas to stay the night in. However, many humans left through the doors, quietly into the moonlit night. Not wealthy enough to pay the hefty overnight stay, perhaps?

Either way, they should all be out of the way for our escape. Or at least most of them. Indeed, about four cleaners and other human workers begin to come out, tiding.

Great. A walk in the park is exactly what this will be.

The sirens can't walk on land, so Riddian nods at me politely before sauntering down the stairs with tiredness in the way his shoulders subtly sag. This part will be a bit harder. Before anything else, I save this map of my body into my mind, as if it is a blueprint so that I can slip right back into it if I need to.

I wait until the other sirens have left through a small opening in the water, heading to the right of where the stairs face, and duck underwater, submerging myself completely and hiding behind seaweeds and startled fish as I shift again, into a female Dryad much like Riddian with his silver, long hair and angled eyes. I round my features slightly, point only my canines and make my eyes smaller. Like with the scales, I grow silvery, leafy clothing to wrap around me in a short, near-scandalous manner.

I rid my gills, my teeth, my webbed hands, and ears. My turquoise eyes turn green. I check my blurred reflection in the water and decide that it should do. I feel guilty. But for what? I ask myself. Stealing Riddian's identity? Oh, whatever, I'm sure he'd get over it. If he even knew, that is. I remind myself sternly to focus on the task ahead. If I screw up I could be damning my family.

I emerge out of the water as if I had just been for a swim and walk quietly down, focusing on not tripping over my long legs, dripping water in steady droplets as I follow the other Manin. Step after step. Flight after flight. The lack of oil in the wall lights cause the flames to flicker unreliably- they might be out by the time we make our way up again. I shiver as an upward draft cools the air on my stupidly thin skin.

Good thing there isn't any other choice other than up or down- otherwise, I'd get lost, I'm sure of it.

I hope that we Manin were permitted in the siren pool. Or at least that nobody notices. My body is almost dry, anyway. It's my thick, loose silver hair that is the problem. I drape the long strands across my shoulders and decide to rid its length. I suck in the strands like a mosquito drawing blood and shorten my hair so that the ends brush my pointed ear. There. That will dry quicker, and it won't drip as frequently.

The others chatter, not seeming to notice me behind them, everyone's footsteps on the stairs, worn and concave in the centre from use, make an uneven, sullen beat.

I hear the door close far above us, and only because of my Dryad hearing can I sense the metal lock sliding closed with a heavy push and twist, Ending with an echoing lock of a key.

The steps come up too fast, and I stumble, murmuring an apology to the faerie in front of me. I'm used to my wings balancing out my weight when I lean forwards like that. I'm still unfamiliar to the strange, unconventionally bare and useless space on my back. Or the way the ends of my newly short hair tickles the back of my neck and the pointed tips of my ears. I don't like it, even if it's considerably lighter.

I think of Rhem for no reason in particular and roll my eyes at the oncoming telling off I will most certainly face for splashing her. I feel a small stab of guilt in my abdomen, it's such a cold night, I hope she doesn't get sick. But the cloaks and bundles of spare clothing are nearby, she's smart enough to take care of herself. I probably shouldn't have splashed her either way.