Page 83 of Skysong

It did not end happily.

Oriane flew faster, closer to the pair. Andala had paused before answering Girard’s question, slowing her pace, as if waiting for Oriane to catch up. When she neared, Andala glanced at her briefly, an unreadable look in her dark eyes.

‘He wants our hearts,’ she said quietly.297

‘Yourhearts?’ Girard had continued ahead, but now he spun back to Andala. He didn’t seem to notice Oriane flitting behind them. ‘What in the skies does that mean?’

But Andala was still looking at Oriane, head canted slightly to one side, as if she were pondering something.

‘Girard,’ she said, ‘I wonder if you might give us a little space.’

He frowned, then seemed to realise her meaning, turning to seek out Oriane in the trees – but she was half-hidden within the branches, and his eyes skipped over her and away. He turned back to Andala. Something seemed to pass between them, an unspoken conversation, a flicker of understanding that need not be voiced. Then Girard nodded.

‘Stay close,’ he muttered. ‘Stay where you can see me. We can’t stop until we reach Fenbrook.’

‘I know,’ Andala replied. ‘And Girard – thank you.’

Close as she was now, Oriane could see the bob of his throat as he swallowed. Then he nodded once more and continued on their path through the woods, leaving the bird and the woman behind.

Andala looked back up into the trees. Unlike Girard’s, her eyes found Oriane in an instant, as if there were nowhere else they could land.Areyouready?they seemed to ask. And Oriane found that she was.

She flew down to land on the ground before Andala, steeled herself, and changed.

It was as easy as it had ever been; that at least was a relief. There was the familiar sensation of morphing, growing. She stretched her limbs as they expanded and settled. It did feel odd, becoming herself again after so long as the lark, but it also felt right.

For a long moment, they stared at one another. Oriane felt simultaneously unmoored and anchored by Andala’s gaze. It had298always had that effect on her. Was that because they were drawn to each other, skysinger to skysinger, like to like?

What else could it be?

‘Is it true?’ she said in a rush, before she could stop herself. Her voice felt rough and odd after weeks of disuse. ‘Are you really …?’

She’d heard Andala say it herself, but she needed to make sure of it now that they stood here on even ground, face-to-face.

Andala nodded.

Oriane couldn’t help it; a thrill of excitement went through her. But still … She could not ignore the dark thread of doubt that wove its way through her thoughts. She needed to see.

‘Can you show me?’ she asked quietly.

For the first time since Oriane had transformed, Andala looked away. She seemed to deflate, her shoulders drooping. ‘I can’t,’ she murmured, so quietly Oriane could barely hear. ‘I can’t … control it, like you.’

That sick sense of doubt coursed through her again. Perhaps Andala was lying. Perhaps her companion was playing along. They might all be in this together, some grand conspiracy to trick or trap Oriane again.

‘I can show you tonight, though,’ Andala went on. ‘When it’s time.’

She said it like a promise, not a lie. And so Oriane nodded, and side by side, they began to walk.

They fell into a quick rhythm, the sounds of Girard’s crunching boots drifting back to them. Oriane felt unsteady. She was still in her golden gown from the solstice ball, and it fell quickly to ruin as it dragged and caught on the brush, its hem a mess of twigs and clumps of dirt. Her feet had begun to ache – the delicate slippers she still wore had been made for dancing, not hiking.299

‘You cannot transform on command,’ she said eventually, ‘but you managed it – to give yourself up.’

‘Yes,’ Andala conceded. ‘Just that once. It’s the only time I’ve ever been able to. I was … desperate. I was thinking of …’ She paused a moment before she went on. ‘I thought that might be the key – wanting it badly enough, being desperate enough. But I feel …’ She shook her head. ‘I know I won’t be able to do it again, somehow. I suppose … I suppose it was a once-in-a-lifetime thing.’

They pressed on. The woods had fully awoken around them now, and after so long in the quiet dark, Oriane was overwhelmed by the scents, the soundscape, the abundance of life.

‘You can do it, though,’ Andala said. They both looked to the side at once, then quickly back to the ground as their eyes met. ‘You have so much control over it that you stayed in lark form for weeks. And stopped your song.’

‘I’m sorry I did,’ Oriane replied. ‘I wish I had not been able to.’ The longer she spent back in her body, the more remorseful she felt – for everything she’d put people through, all the trouble she’d caused by withholding the light.

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