Page 62 of Scars Like Wings
Both of Simone’s eyebrows rose. “You think Everett would keep a hexed object in the same house as his only beloved niece?”
“Good point,” Maisie shrugged. “But he didn’t even know the book was here when Byrd held it in front of him. Who’s to say it wasn’t cursed to appear forusto open it and unleash unspeakable evil upon the world?”
Simone and Maisie continued debating as I picked up the book to examine it further out of curiosity. The gems actually sparkled with their own light, not from the sunlight from the windows and light in the room. It was so vibrant. The gold in the lines appeared to flow like a river throughout the cover and spine. The blue stone guarding it even seemed to wink with some kind of life all its own, softly calling to me. I was mesmerized. I wanted to follow the gold all over the cover, wherever it would take me. I wanted to stare into the gemstone stars to feel their warmth. I wanted to hold the lapis lazuli close until I could hear her secrets. I wanted to take this book somewhere far from others and hide it, like it was a treasure.
Wait, what?Was I under a spell? Why had this book enraptured me so?
Did I even care?
This book…
Something inside me stretched, taking up more space and beginning to open its eyes.
“Bee? Byrd? You okay?” I heard Simone asking me distantly, but I really didn’t register it.
Touch the stone. No harm will come to you.
A voice.Thatvoice. Where had I heard that voice before? There was peace in its words alongside the strongest sense of déjà vu I had ever felt. Where had that voice come from? Where did I know it from? Why did I so easily believe and trust what it said without any doubt?
Touch the stone. It’s yours. It found you for a reason.
Found me? It was in my box of things. There had to be a reason for it to be there, formeto find it after all this time. Pops had packed the box. Uncle Everett had kept it after all this time. Hell, the girls had been looking in it before I even noticed its existence. If someone else was meant to find it, they would have.
Touch the stone.This voice. I knew it. I had heard before. I had heard it when I needed it, and it had… I don’t remember what it did, but I knew it hadn’t steered me wrong.
I ever so lightly caressed the blue stone with my fingertip. I barely felt the smooth surface of one of the stone’s faces.
It was so small.
It was almost nothing.
But suddenly my obsidian pendant heated up against my chest, warming until I could feel it through my hoodie. It was hot enough to fight off the chill that had been taking root all morning. The lapis lazuli glowed brightly, almost blindingly so. Then as soon as it all had happened, both stopped.
The latch sealing the book flipped open on its own.
And I was left breathless.
“B-Byrd broke the spell,” Maisie said, dreamily. I couldn’t help feeling the same. Did I really just do that? How? Was it because of that voice I heard?How?
“Maybe we should revisit this being hexed after all,” Simone tried to joke, but she couldn’t stop staring at the book just like me and Maisie.
I swallowed. I wasn’t magical. I was a normie, a regular human. I didn’t have any special abilities. The only reason I knew about the supernatural world was because my parents both had worked in the spaces. My prior knowledge of the supernatural was why Blackbell allowed me inside. But I wasn’t a supernatural person. So, I shouldn’t have been able to open this. I should be scared or freaked out. I should be terrified that I didn’t know what any of this meant. I definitely shouldn’t want to open it further, anyway… right?
Open it. It’s yours.
That voice again.
Open it. No harm will come to you. It’s yours to be found and yours to read. It’s safe.
Shifting the book more onto my right forearm, I gripped the spine of the book tightly. Before I could change my mind or let Maisie’s intake of breath fill me with doubt, I took the cover in my left hand and ripped it open.
Instantly, I was enveloped in the smell ofhome: my mom’s apple-scented perfume before she left for work, sweet fried pancakes made from scratch on every Saturday morning, Pops’ citrusy and herb body wash wafting from their bathroom, the fresh smell of peaches from the farmer’s market, fire burning on a winter’s night…
It was enough to bring tears to my eyes.
Then I noticed the writing. The pages were made of thick, old parchment that felt both heavy and weightless against my fingertips. Printed on the first page of the book was a tree with a trunk split in two with various branches split off from there. Labels were on each branch with names, dates, and relationships. At the root was my name,Brydgette “Byrd” Fallon Pierce, and my birthdate of September twenty-fourth. Branching from there was my mom’s information on the left:Eleanora “Doe” Doriana Pierceand Pops’ information on the right:Forrest Theodore Pierce. Another pair of branches split from each of their names, along with branches and leaves for all their relatives. All the writing on the labels was in my mom’s handwriting.
“Wow, is that a family tree?” Simone asked next to me looking at the book over my shoulder.