Page 156 of Scars Like Wings

Suddenly, the stone pulsed. I thought I had imagined it or that my night vision was playing tricks on me, but then I noticed the white streaks on the stone looked like they were moving, flowing with energy like the water they resembled.

My eyes widened. “Are you seeing this?”

“Seeing what?”

The rock hummed then. It was soft, a whisper, like words said in your ear before you drifted to sleep. But I heard them clearly. Ifeltthem. I understood and knew.

It’s only for you.That voice purred within me.It’s words only you can hear and know.

The rocks weretalkingto me now.

Yeah, sure. Why the fuck not?

“It’s a Larimar gemstone, native to this area only. It’s incredibly rare,” I explained—translated—what I had gotten from the stone. The Larimar hummed again. I nodded as if it had said something aloud even though I sensed it more than heard actual words. I looked down at the sand and rose back up when I had retrieved a shiny, smooth, and sharp obsidian stone near where the Larimar had been as well as a jagged sandy red stone. “And these ones are an obsidian from the volcanic rock used to make the island, and a sandstone. The latter is actually really popular here and a kind of quartz, so you weren’t too far off actually.”

“That is cool! How did you know that?” Quinn asked.

I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the three rocks as I watched them pulse as if they were breathing. I fought the urge to gather more, especially as they hummed mentioning where the best ones were on the beach. Part of it was because I was hypnotized by the crystals. The other part—the biggest part—was because I was scared to see Quinn’s face right now, to watch her realize how much of a weird freak I was. I mean, rocks were talking to me, I could understand them, and I was not on any sort of hallucinogen. I would definitely think I was crazy if the roles were reversed. And this on top of everything else? I was so scared of losing her from just saying how I felt, why should I risk telling her this and it be too much? Why should I tell her?

“Sweetness? Byrdie?” Quinn’s hands wrapped around my own. The heat from the stones and her hands enveloped my hands. Her hands were so big and mine so petite, she could easily fit four of mine into hers. They were rough and calloused against the smoothness of my own, but I liked it. Hands like Quinn’s told a story. One of pain and healing but scars still left behind and a softness underneath. Yeah, I was sprung.

“Byrd, please.” Quinn’s voice was low and soft like the tide before us. She used a knuckle to gently lift my chin up to look ather. Her eyebrows were furrowed over golden hazel eyes. I had made her worry. Again. I hated that.“Háblame. Talk to me.”

The crystals vibrated in my hand, and with them, the obsidian in my necklace. A feeling of reassurance washed over me that I couldn’t explain. They pushed me forward, guiding me to rip off the bandaid. I loved Quinn. Real love required honesty, always. Quinn had stuck with me this far. I had to have hope that this wouldn’t be the breaking point.

“So. I used to collect crystals as a kid. I would go into my backyard and look for hours there. They always fascinated me.”

Quinn’s lips quirked up. “I did, too. I had a massive rock collection growing up. I will have to show it to you next time we are at my house. They are in this Power Rangers box.”

I smiled, imagining a little Quinn picking up stones. “Let me guess: you were a red one?”

“Am I that predictable?”

I chuckled. “What I’m talking about is a little different.”

I swallowed and looked behind Quinn at the lapping water as I went on. “Crystals have always been a part of my life. My mom was obsessed with them when she was pregnant with me, and I was born in a cavern full of them. I would sneak out to collect them as a kid, and I always wanted to be surrounded by them. When I would hold them or be near them, I used to hear… like, this humming sound? It’s hard to describe it. But through it and the feeling of touching the stone, I could… almost make out something like words and a language? I can communicate with them, hear them. And they offer me a… comfort? It’s so hard to say this, but… they have helped me.”

The Larimar, obsidian, and sandstone pulsed strongly, their whispers hurried. “They… They saved my life once? Is that right?”

They vibrated twice in quick succession like a nod.

They had? When was this? Something nagged at my memory. Like trying to remember a dream that didn’t want to be remembered, I couldn’t get a grip on anything solid. But I felt something rise and unfurl within me. The stones knew something?—

“So, you can talk to rocks like they are alive?” Quinn asked. Her voice sounded far away to my ears, even though she was right next to me.

“Yeah,” I answered.

“That’s not all, is it? Come back to me, Byrdie. What has you so in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I-I-I—” There was so much going on in my head. I had so many questions, so many feelings. They were all so tangled together in a mass taking up every space in my brain. I didn’t know what to pull at to begin to unravel things. What I was, Quinn, my parents, Cooper, what Quinn was, Maisie being a witch-fae, Quinn’s feelings toward me, Talli, Quinn, Quinn, Quinn. I loved Quinn. I knew that for sure. That was enough to latch onto and hold onto with everything I had.

It was enough to say—”I was scared you would think I was weird.”

“Weird?” Quinn tilted her head. “Why would I think you are weird?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tears stung my eyes. “Quinn, when have I been normal and regular since we met? My parents weremurdered. I have a back tattoo that only you can see. I have been slowly turning into some supernatural creature that no one can figure out. I have a magical book that is like a family heirloom that I can figure out. Now, I can suddenly talk to rocks that I found in the sand! I’m weird as shit. I’m a freak. I have mysteries that haunt me, and I can’t figure them out. You don’t deserve to be burdened with me and my bullshit. You don’tdeserve to be with some circus freak who doesn’t even know how much of a main event she is in the big fucking tent!”

“Byrdie, Byrdie, Byrdie, stop it.” Quinn pocketed the crystals from my hands and pulled me into her. She held my head against her as I sobbed. I cried so hard I struggled to breathe. I wailed, letting go of everything I had been holding back these past few months of dead-ends and no answers. I let the hurt of missing my mom, Pops, and Aunt Max fill me. I approached the void of all my grief, and I picked up a foot to lift it over. For the first time in so long, I wanted it to consume me until nothing was left. That was the only way for this end, wasn’t it? I was so tired of coming up with nothing when I tried to find something.

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