Page 100 of The Wolf and the Chimera
My chimera.
Last time I had become the creature, I had shied away from my reflection. Now, with nowhere else to turn, I was forced to face it. Though its eyes glowed red, they didn’t brim with rage.
No,I realized.They’re full of sadness.
As my pity for the creature swelled, it rumbled and crouched. Fear swept through me, and suddenly, my human body returned. I stood on an obsidian floor with shaking hands and a hammering hart. My chimera’s lips pulled back to reveal wickedly long and sharp teeth. The beast’s gaze had sharpened with predatory focus, and I wondered if I had imagined the creature’s sorrow.
“Please,” I whispered.
The creature lunged for me, and I ran.
Arms pumping at my sides, I dove into the shadows that ensnared us. My beastly form roared so loudly, the ground shook.
Faster,I thought,you have to run faster.
On bare feet, I raced across the cold, unforgiving ground as quickly as I could. Close enough to feel the heat of its breath,my chimera chased me.
I ran and ran and ran, until I crashed into a wall and tumbled into something else entirely. As stillness settled over me, I slipped into the past and viewed the world with murky vision.
No more than a toddler, I sat on the soft sand of a beach with my chubby, little legs sprawled in front of me. Using a tiny plastic shovel and bucket, I forged a castle made of sand. The sun kissed my delicate skin, and a salty breeze ruffled my hair.
A couple feet away, Mom laid on a towel reading. I smiled at the way her blonde hair glimmered in the sunlight, but I wanted to see it better. I wanted to watch how the breeze made the tiny strands dance in the air.
Suddenly, I could.
The world became alive with clarity. Dust motes and salt twirled on the breeze. I studied dozens of shades of blue in Mom’s eyes and laugh lines that framed her mouth. She was so lovely, I clapped.
When her gaze met mine, horror marred her expression.
As she scooped me up and carried me away from the beach, I cried.
“Shh,” she cooed, “you just need another spell, Ella-Bella. We will take care of it, I promise. I promise, honey, we’ll get rid of it.”
Though I barely understood her words, I recognized her intent. Her expression had told me enough. Part of me—that wonderful part that experienced the world with such clarity—was going away again.
I blinked and transported into an older, ganglier version of my human body.
I was twelve years old, and that meant I knew everything, so I didn’t feel bad for sneaking down the stairs of our apartment to spy on my parents’ conversation. Though we had only lived in the two-story space for a couple weeks, I had catalogued which of the wooden stairs creaked and which did not. In the dim light, I leaned against the beige banister andstrained my ears.
“Her power is still contained,” Dad promised. “You’re worrying too much.”
Mom’s steps padded across the carpet. She only paced when something really bothered her.
“Her animal form can’t emerge,” she said, “not without waking the sorceress too. Wemustbe diligent, Lee. Please, promise me you’ll keep a close eye on her.”
As Dad vowed to watch over me, I hated the fear in Mom’s voice. I hated being the cause of it. Mom was an incredible warrior, and the only thing that made her balk was me.
Before they could catch me sneaking, I raced up the stairs and into my small bedroom. Flopping onto the bed, I grabbed the Seventeen magazine I had bought earlier from the nightstand. As I flipped through it, I admired the carefree girls and women photographed across its silky smooth pages. I lost myself in the silly quizzes and articles, and I wished with all my foolish heart to be like them.
To be human.
Just human.
I had forgotten how beautiful the world could be through my chimera’s eyes. Now, only Mom’s scared voice rang in my ears.
Time shifted again, and I stood in front of a mirror, tugging at the hem of my short, yellow dress.
As I recognized the memory, my stomach churned.
