Page 6 of Skysong

The thought, so exhilarating just a moment ago, sank in properly now, and almost sent her crashing to the ground.

Oriane dropped, swerved, her lark’s heart beating wildly. Her wings beat with it, struggling to keep her aloft. There, below – a vast green stretch of garden, dotted with floral bursts of colour. And beyond it, back the way she’d come, the secrecy and safety of the woods.

Thank the skies. She could still find sanctuary there in the dense mass of trees that stretched away from the palace. Oriane dove, mind whirling. It had all become too much, suddenly.22

She dipped below the canopy and into the welcome cover of the trees. There was a little clearing, quiet and blessedly empty. Oriane didn’t know what she’d do if she came across a person in the flesh. She cursed herself for not having thought that far ahead.

She came to rest on a low-hanging branch, desperately needing to be closer to the ground. She was beginning to feel uneasy in her lark’s body. Her father’s face flashed in her mind. She should get back to him now. She should—

Snap. The crack of a twig echoed through the clearing, loud as a shout.

Oriane nearly fell from the branch. That sound had been close by. Too close. Was someone coming? Or was her mind playing tricks?

Anothersnap. More movement in the trees.

She wasn’t alone.

Whoever was coming closer seemed to be doing it fast. It was a person, not an animal. She could tell now from the tread of their boots. They had almost reached the clearing. It was time to go. She prepared herself to take flight—

But nothing happened. Her every feather felt like a block of lead strapped to her body. Her wings wouldn’t work. The shock of it sent Oriane reeling. Her delicate talons lost their grip on the branch and instead of flying, she was falling.

She arced towards the forest floor. Her heartbeat slowed, and as it did, the world around her followed suit: she moved through the air as if it were treacle, the fall taking a minute, an hour, an age. Oriane could do nothing but watch in horror as the ground grew closer, and her surroundings grew … smaller? The leaves and trees seemed to be shrinking around her. It had to be some strange illusion – another trick of the mind, like the neverending fall—23

But it was no trick, of course. It was not the world that was changing. It was her.

By the time she landed, she was human once more.

She struck her head on a tree root as she hit the ground. The impact sent pain reverberating through her body, stars shooting across her vision. Oriane thought she saw a figure, making its way towards her. The image faltered then faded as the world went spinning away.

Oriane awoke in darkness.

She was in bed. The room around her was blurry, indistinct. She opened her eyes wider, recoiling as shadow seemed to press against her pupils. It took her a moment to realise that this was not her cosy bedroom at home; these were a stranger’s covers in which she lay cocooned. Her father was not downstairs, or asleep in the room next door.

Where am I?

Oriane sat up with a start, breathing hard. She struggled to kick her legs free of the sheets. She needed to get out of this room. But her vision had not adjusted, and she could barely find her way out of the tangle of bedding. She groped blindly, her pulse rising—

A flame sputtered to life beside her.

Oriane let out a cry. There was someone in here with her.

A pale, disembodied hand held a match aloft. The hand guided the flame to the wick of an oil lamp, then shook the match out and turned the lamp’s dial. A circle of golden light grew outward, illuminating a figure seated by Oriane’s bedside.

It was a woman. She was still partly in shadow, but Oriane could see that she was pale, her skin almost pearlescent in the24gentle light. She had a striking face, with sharp cheekbones and a delicately pointed chin. A fall of straight black hair cascaded past her shoulders. Her eyes, wide-set and impossibly dark, were on Oriane.

A person. A real-life person – a woman – so close that Oriane might reach out and touch her.

It might have been the shock, or the soft glow, or her still-spinning head, but the only thought Oriane formed was:Iseverywomanintheworldsobeautiful?

‘Are you well, my lady?’ The woman reached for the lantern and raised it towards Oriane. Her slender brows were drawn together in concern. Oriane drew back further, feeling foolish. She wasn’t sure how long she had been staring. And, beautiful as she was, the woman was a stranger.

‘I … Who are you?’ she asked, rising to her knees amid the mess of sheets.

‘I’m sorry to have startled you. I’m here to keep an eye on you, make sure you’re all right.’ The woman replaced the lantern by the bedside, but didn’t take her eyes from Oriane. ‘Areyou all right?’

Oriane swallowed, nodded. Did this stranger know who –what– she was? ‘Where am I?’ she asked.

For the first time, the woman looked away. ‘You’re in the palace. You were brought here to rest.’

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