21

~Ali~

As I toss within the sheets over and over, I quickly realise that sleep will not find me tonight. A flutter takes flight in my chest, light and unchained, rivalling the plunging feeling in my stomach. In my head, my mind is running in tight, imperfect circles and frankly, it is tiring. Yet simultaneously, I have never felt so energised, as if my nerves were hooked to a battery pack. A true collection of contradictions.

I lay in the dark silence for minutes (hours?) more, thrumming my fingers across my thighs.

Nup, I can't do this anymore.

I gently roll out of bed and pace the short length of the room, trying to stomp my thoughts and worries into the floor. But it doesn't work. My mind won't be silenced.

Huffing under my breath, I scan the dark room, opening my eyes as wide to see through the milky darkness. When I am convinced everyone remains motionless in sleep, I slip into my boots and drift away, the strings whispering against each other as I pass.

My steps are silenced over the rubber soles of my shoes as I sneak into the frosty air. I contort my body through the slim crack in the cave door and take my time walking out into the star-speckled night. My breath is foggy as I drop to the frozen floor.

The galaxy shines bright in the black velvet sky, enveloping the pregnant moon. The silvery light illuminates the falling snow - a bewitching scene whereby each snowflake resembles a pin-prick of a star drifting towards the earth. And with each glittering flake that settles to the floor, calm and silent in the night, my mind is also numbed.

I allow myself to simply exist, focusing on the slight sting in my chest with each frigid inhale. After a few moments, I allow a controlled and clear line of thought to slowly formulate. Out here, with the uniform landscape and sobering night sky, nothing seems to be overly complicated, especially our trip that will ensue; we will go to the church whereby the compass will do what a compass does (point), then we will follow it to The Book of Angels and erase the names of the Fallen. Easy. Mission accomplished.

I run this simplified, idealistic and possibly naive prediction on repeat to offer some self-assurance, hoping that some of this sudden confidence will stick by the time morning appears.

I cast my eyes skyward again, hypnotised by the scintillating lights. And then they brighten, dazzling my eyes, pulsing, as if... interacting? For a moment, I am compelled to respond, an intuitive reflex that has me sitting further forward. A longing pinches at my heart. How had I not realised what was in front of me this whole time... -

And then the sensation is gone. I settle back again and simply admire the beauty of the night without another thought to bother me.

I sit outside, content, not concerning myself with the time or the growing cold rooting into my skin. I lose myself in the glassy sky and that is enough. Eventually, the silver tendrils of moonlight press down on my eyelids, pulling them closed.

When the sky begins its ritual metamorphosis, melting from a grainy charcoal to a smooth royal blue, the stars begin to wink out as the sun outshines the moon's pale glow. The first morning rays break through the mountain pass, blanketing the ice-covered land in sugary light.

The dilute gold strands spread warmth into my cheeks, my nose, my neck, my fingertips. My whole body tingles. And as I sit there, bathing in the champagne light, sweet memories flood toward me, projected on the back of my eyelids like a cinema for one. Images of a little girl holding her daddy's finger in one, small hand. Images of a colourful Sunday sky and dewy socks. Images of a glittering pond and whipping cream clouds and love. So much love.

A lone tear slips over my lashes and dribbles down my cheek, curving around my jaw tracing a single, cool line.

I lift my hand to brush away the wet trail, but a warm palm cups the side of my face, smothering the tear with a gentle finger before I have the chance.

I didn't even hear him approach. He was quiet. So quiet. Or maybe he wasn't. I don't think I would have noticed anyway, my memories loud in my head.

"Ali," my name hangs in the air, a choke of worry warbling the sound. He kneels in front of me, grasping my hands within both of his and gently caresses them back and forth, trying to bring warmth back into my blue skin. "You're freezing," he takes hold of my chilled face, running his eyes across my shivering form. When did I start shivering? "How long have you been out here?"

"Um, I'm not sure. A few hours maybe?" I shrug nonchalantly. How could I explain the inexplicable hypnotism of the night sky? Like a part of myself was shining down.

"Hours?" He exclaims incredulously. "That's it. You're coming inside. Now."

Like a scolded child, I nod my agreement. He pulls me upright, placing me on my own two wobbly feet. My toes are numb in my boots, something I had not anticipated. My first step is stiff and uncomfortable, like my cross-legged position on the floor had been frozen in place.

Without missing a beat, Ethan scoops me from the floor, lifting me to his chest as if I weigh nothing more than air (which I can assure you is definitely not true). My cheeks burn in response and I turn my head to the side, focusing on the flood of warmth to my face.

He lowers me onto the sofa, pushing the seat closer beside the dying flames. He spreads a blanket over my body, slips off my boots and begins to breathe life back into the glowing embers. With the addition of a few logs and more coaxing, the fire soon rages and Ethan dusts off his coal-blackened hands.

One moment his lips are pressed effortlessly to the back of my head as he passes. The next, he is gone. My heart thuds painfully in response, my eyes not able to watch him walk away. I try to ignore my tumultuous emotions and settle deeper into the spongey sofa cushions, pretending that I am unaffected.

I sleep off the rest of the early morning, the blaze silently crackling beside me. I wake with a start, sweating under the blanket, the reminder of today's journey pulsing in my mind.

I brush my hair back away from my damp forehead and make my way to the bedroom, dragging my boots with me.

"Morning Ali! Ready?" Jaz chirps cheerily, despite our new mission looming like a dark, unknown cloud over our heads. She gathers warm clothing and begins to fill a rucksack.

"I suppose. I just need to get ready," I reply, a little more gloomily than than I intended to let on. I walk over to the small cupboard and pull out my warmest clothes. I weave my hair into a messy French braid and pinch my cheeks to try and return some colour to my suddenly pale complexion.

"Hey," Jaz murmurs, a finger grazing my arm to catch my attention as she passes. "What's the matter?"

I sigh and cradle the back of my head, hating the tightness in my neck.

"Just nervous, I guess. And scared. I'm so scared. I miss my family, too, Jaz. Don't forget confused. Very confused about... things, everything." I admit hesitantly, Ethan's voice drifting to me from somewhere in the kitchen.

"Okay, okay," she chuckles and pulls me down to her mattress. "Let's tackle these one at a time." I fiddle with the fabric of my shirt. "So you're nervous? Scared?" she continues, thinking carefully. "Well, that's understandable. We've never experienced anything like this before - or could even begin to imagine that we would! But you have to remember, there is a very dedicated angel just through there," she points through the wooden beads with a steely finger, "who's entire life is devoted to keeping you safe. He would slice his own arm off before he let you even scuff your knee, that much I know for certain." A ghost of a smile twitches my lips and her arm curves around my shoulders reassuringly.

"As for your family, Ali, I know it's difficult to be away from them for this long with no way to talk to them, but I'm not a blind woman. On the first day of school, I was watching all the cars and students and tears rolling into Bromley. Of course I didn't know it was you at the time, but I saw you, and your parents and all the love they have for you. I don't know much about family, but I do know an unshakable love when I see it." I offer a small smile. "I understand all those worries, but why are you confused? It's our destiny to complete this mission. I swear I can feel the rightness of it all buzzing in each sinew of my body."

Why am I confused? she asks. I don't think I have the guts to tell her that it's because my heart beats for an impossibility. My eyes travel to the beads, thinking about the Prince sitting behind the wooden strings and ache at what can never be between us.

"Oh!" She slowly realises. Sympathy softens the wince on her features. "Ethan." I nod. Yes, Ethan. "Well, I'm not going to sit here and preach to you the do's and don't's of angel liaison, but I also can't sit here and tell you the right thing to do is to ignore your heart because I would be lying and a hypocrite, both of which are adjectives I do not fancy associating myself with."

Already uncomfortable with the taboo subject at discussion, I say no more and dissect Jaz's words quietly in the back of my mind. Thankfully Jaz relieves the silence by asking me to braid her hair, a task I am more than happy to do as it keeps my hands and my mind occupied for a short while.

After all the bags are packed with fresh and long-lasting supplies, our hunger appropriately quenched and shrouding a couple more layers onto my padded body (at Ethan's insistent request), we congest at the sliding rock wall of the door in preparation of its full opening. I pull at the high neck of my itchy jumper, beginning to perspire in the warm cave as we wait.

As Thessaly approaches, we thank her profusely, our echoey voices of gratitude competing in the small space. She just stands gratefully and amused, absorbing our thanks before reaching onto a small peg and sliding her arms into her puffer jacket.

"You shan't me ridding me that easily." She quips, pulling the zipper up to her chin. "I hope you don't mind, but I'd rather stick around a little longer for this escapade." Then she kicks the faux rock on the floor and it slides in place, initiating the door's movements.

Like the grinding of an old mortar and pestle, the door grazes wide open and the sharp, morning air circulates around the room, driving out the warmth that accumulated during the night. I inhale a deep, painfully refreshing breath and fall into place beside Jaz as we escape the cave and back into the snow capped mountains.

Powdery snow crunches beneath our boots as we near the cave's mouth, ice crystals gnashing downwards like teeth. I hurry past their glistening points, like a collection of glass daggers strung from the ceiling. Out in the open, the sky's bleached colour makes the mountains appear even colder in appearance, the icy snow around us like a mirror, throwing back the blanched colour. I shudder at the sight that never fails to remind me of my size.

Thessaly's willowy figure dusts away our footprints with the end of her tail, masking the entrance of her home. I adjust the straps on my rucksack, take a deep (and dramatic) breath and follow after Ethan and Jack downhill.

Trudging through the vast expanse of open space, time slips away, each hour bleeding into the next. My feet move on autopilot - easy, since we are travelling with gravity - which allows for my thoughts to swirl aimlessly in my head. But most importantly, with Thessaly leading us on a straight shot out of the mountains, we gain distance, fast.

The next thing I know, the sun is directly above us, our pale shadows almost nonexistent beneath our feet. As the day proceeds with few rests, Thessaly points out a sparsely grassed clearing towards the base of the mountain. The sad sight of a few stalks of wispy vegetation has excitement rushing through me. After continuous days of snow and ice and rock and nothing but numbing whiteness, greenery is a welcomed sight.

From this marker forward, the snow begins to thin quickly, exposing the valleys of tall grasses, their slender bodies bending in the breeze. Looking over my shoulder, I shield my eyes from the glare of the sun, trying unsuccessfully to pin-point Thessaly's cave at the summit of the mountain now soaring behind us.

A thick flourish of grass presents itself ahead and Jaz takes no time in collapsing upon it, sprawled across her back, the rucksack a hill beneath her, closing her eyes to the sky. Despite the temperatures, sweat gathers on her forehead and neck. This far down the mountain, the temperatures are still cold, but no longer intolerably subzero. The wind is also reduced to a steady gust through the mountain pass, having lost its bite and sting from the summit. I take a seat next to her beside a small cluster of low-growing mountain flowers that reach for the cold rays of sun.

I help Jaz wriggle free from her outer-most layer, bundling up her coat and forcing it into her bag. Sitting in the unhindered rays, the warmth builds inside my downy coat and I, too, shrug from my external layer, squishing the air from the coat to deflate it as much as possible before rolling it up like a yoga mat and slotting it into my bag also. The sharp, sweet air passes welcomingly across my exposed neck, whistling between my remaining layers of clothes.

We rest in the valley, sheltered from the weather between the bodies of Thessaly's mountain and the neighbouring one. The distant sound of slow-moving water catches my attention and I look around the valley. Sure enough, a small brook trickles down hill. It carves a path through the middle of the valley; turquoise mountain water rippling through the grasses and shrubs.

I wander over, peeling away from the group mostly unnoticed and dip my fingers into the glassy tributary. Icy water slips through my fingers, silky to touch. I rinse my hands, watching the water idly pass by before cupping my hands and sipping the rawness of the mountains.

By the time I return, offerings of crackers and shortbread biscuits are being passed around. I settle myself back into the small circle on the floor and snag a passing salted cracker.

When the snack is mostly concluded, Jack pulls out a paper map, unrolling it like a scroll and spreading it between Ethan, Thessaly and himself. They soon settle into discussion, running their fingers over possibly paths to take next.

Jaz collects the discarded wrappers around her and stuffs them into her pack. I follow suit, crushing my plastic packaging and dropping them in my bag. Jaz scoots closer to me.

"How are you holding up today?"

"I'm good, actually. Well, as good as good can be," I correct. Jaz seems to nod in understanding.

"And what about you?" I toss back.

"Me? I'm good. Great, actually. This is the most exciting and noteworthy thing I've ever done - probably ever will do. How can I not be great?"

While I can tell her words are genuine, I can't help but sense her apprehensiveness. Whether her confidence is a front for myself or herself, I simply nod and let her smile at her words. Then her gaze flicks over my shoulder and her grin intensifies into something more earnest.

A shadow falls over me, blocking out the warmth of the sun. A gentle hand rests on my shoulder and a shiver runs across my skin as Ethan crouches behind me.

Imperceptibly, I lean into his touch and his grip tightens in response. I remind myself to maintain a steady ventilation rate.

"Are you ready?" he whispers into the back of my ear. I nod timidly and swallow my giddiness bubbling behind my porous wall of self-restraint.

Ethan helps myself, then Jaz into a stand, lifting our packs from the floor and handing them to us. The soft mountain grasses and mottling of flowers lay flattened beneath our body weight and packs. Slowly, the wind lifts them from the ground.

Jack and Thessaly gather beside us, packs hiked high on their backs, ready to serpentine our way out of this mountain pass in the dictated route agreed.

"I've done this route countless times! I even run it sometimes. It won't be much longer until we escape the mountains and find ourselves back into civilisation," Thessaly assures. "It's mostly steady downhill, no slippery snow or rocky passes."

"Well, I hope we haven't forgotten that Ali and I are simple human beings, so unfortunately we won't be moving anywhere nearly as fast as you." Her words seem to be met with mindless laughs and oblivious ears.

Yet as the day progresses, it is obvious Thessaly didn't fully comprehend what Jaz meant by slow. We are walking as fast as our sluggish legs can carry us, but occasionally Thessaly will indirectly comment on the speed of our pace, insinuating that our progress is too insubstantial to reach the nearby town by night-break.

As the afternoon disappears behind us and the beginnings of early dusk materialise, Thessaly estimates at this rate, we still remain a few hours away from the town. She apologises, shouldering the burden of blame at her underestimation of travel time, explaining that she has not been around humans for multiple decades and misjudged our abilities.

The thought that a motel is still a few hours away has both guilt and frustration surging forth.

"So what now? We packed no equipment to tolerate the night outdoors," I very quickly conclude, the temperatures that built receding with the sunlight.

Ethan looks to Jack. Jack returns his look to Ethan. They both look at Thessaly. Thessaly stares back, eyes quivering. Another non-verbal plan is formulated.

"Okay, problem rectified." Ethan claps his hands and rubs them together, preparing himself. "Tonight, we fly."

"It will be hard with the added weight of the five packs, but we will have to redistribute the weight evenly and try to hightail a wind current." Jack eyes up the packs, calculating packs and weights.

"Yes, yes, yes! Just get me out of here. My feet are killing," Jaz groans, gesturing to her scuffed black boots.

Ethan turns to Thessaly. "There are only two of us, and we have to take the girls. Are you okay to run the rest of the way?"

"I am more than okay to run and you know it," she purrs, stretching out her neck and cracking her knuckles. Her tail whips untamed behind her and for a moment, Thessaly becomes more animal then human as anticipation radiates from her bundles muscles. "I've been itching for a good run lately."

We drop the packs between us, spreading out the contents and systematically repacking everything into just four bags so that Ethan and Jack will be balanced in flight.

Thessaly sheds her jacket and I scoop it into my arms, tying it around my waist. Jaz and I hook a bag over each shoulder, wrapping the straps around our waists and chests so they don't slip and fall once we get into the air. Meanwhile, Thessaly shakes out her dappled fur, which glints in the fading light and drops to four legs looking like the lethal weapon she is. She sinks to her haunches, ready.

I pull the knot around my waist tighter as Ethan comes up behind me and wraps his arms under my armpits and hips. At the sound of their wings being released, Thessaly's body is launched forward, no more than a ripple of silver in the pass.

We rocket skywards, propelled by a low-lying stream of air, trailing Thessaly's lithe body hurtling across the floor as if she, too, were flying. Travelling this fast, exposed to the dry winds, my eyes become sore and laden.

I lower my eyelids against the air and eventually fall into the darkness of my mind.