Page 43

T he crisp morning air wafts across the cabin’s porch as I watch the sunrise.

Over the course of the last two months, I’ve filled an entire internal wall of the cabin with books, many from various thrift shops and some from Archer Ryan after she heard I’d started reading.

I’ve even bought myself some new clothes with the money that seems to appear when Hunter visits, usually left in a sneaky place like the cutlery drawer where I won’t find it until after she’s gone.

As the days pass, I sense my former self within myself like a seed I put away in a box a year ago, and now I’m determined to grow. And I’m determined not to keep myself in the shadows.

When the familiar whoosh of helicopter blades breaks the silence, I wait for Hunter to descend, curious when she seems slower than normal.

I’m also curious to see that she carries a large, rectangular box on her back.

“Vulture Woman.” I greet her with a broad smile as she approaches. “Why have you darkened my door?”

She grins back at me as she clambers up the steps, and I suddenly perceive the growing bump in her belly.

“Yes, yes.” She waves her hand, unusually out of breath, as she seeks the wicker chair at the side of the porch, pulling the box off her back before she sits. “Would you believe I’m having twins? That’s the last time I fast-rope out of a helicopter for a while.”

The fact that she’s Valkyrie is still a heavily guarded secret, which means she can’t release her wings in front of the helicopter pilots.

“Let me get you a cup of herbal tea,” I say.

“Thank you.” She accepts it when I return, blowing on the hot liquid and inhaling the warm cinnamon scent with a bright smile. “Oh, it smells like Slade.”

I find a seat in the wicker chair next to hers. “There are cedars in these woods. They remind me of Striker.”

“Perhaps that isn’t a bad thing.” Reaching for the box, she passes it to me. “I have a gift, but it isn’t from me, and I was asked to tell you that it comes with no expectations.”

I take the gift cautiously, expanding my senses to determine the intentions with which it was packed.

Hope. Calm. A slightly rapid heartbeat. Then calm again.

I extend my claw and slip it through the tape along the side, removing the lid to reveal ivory-colored tissue paper.

Beneath it is a black tulle dress. It has a single beaded strap at one shoulder, is fitted through the bodice to a waist wrapped in tulle, and flows to a gently tapered skirt.

An ivory card rests on top of it.

Dear Peyton,

I sense the pause after Striker writes my name, the way he’s holding his breath as he inscribes carefully.

Please do me the honor of attending a small gathering to celebrate

He pauses again. He’s cringing and considering whether to throw the card out and start over, but he continues:

My first home.

He writes the date, time, and address, and then he pauses again. He’s uncertain about the salutation. Love? Best wishes?

He simply writes:

Striker.

P.S. If you still prefer bare feet, I think you’ll like the floor.

My lips curve. Hmm. The last was written quickly and on impulse. I sense that he’s pleased about writing it, but he’s more pleased about the possibility that I’ll like the floor.

I pull the lid across the box again and draw it into my lap, resting my arms on top of it.

Hunter reaches across the space between us. “You should know that your friends will also be there.”

I digest this for a moment.

In all this time, even though I’ve gone out into multiple cities, ventured into the maze, and survived a primordial deity, I haven’t reconnected with the students from the Academy. It isn’t that I don’t want to, but rather, I just don’t know how to start.

“Come and see them,” Hunter prompts. “Just for one night. Then you can decide what you want to do next.”

“I abandoned them,” I whisper, speaking aloud what I acknowledged within the maze. “I left them to pick up the pieces on their own.”

“You couldn’t have helped them any more than you already did.” Hunter’s voice is suddenly fierce. “When you fought to free them from the Academy, you gave everything, Peyton. Since then, you’ve given more.”

I take a deep breath and acknowledge the darker path I could have gone down. “We could have been enemies, you and I.”

“We were.” She nods. “But only through fear and distrust, which doesn’t exist between us any longer. So trust me now…” She squeezes my hand. “Come back. See what’s being offered to you. Then decide what’s best for you.”

She doesn’t have to persuade me. My answer was already going to be yes, but there were things I needed to acknowledge first.

I chew my lip, feeling an unexpected fluttering in my stomach, but it isn’t fear.

It’s anticipation. Hope.

I speak with certainty. “Okay.”

Hunter gives me a big smile. “I’ll send the chopper for you. Remember not to levitate up to it, or you’ll freak out the pilots. As far as they know, you’re human. I made up a story that you’re stationed out here for surveillance. They’ll lower the harness for you and take you to your destination.”

When she leaves, I press my hand to my stomach, to the growing nerves, then to my heart, and my increased heartbeat.

I take a deep breath, preparing for the painting of my life to grow once more.