Page 9 of Scars Like Wings

“Kiddo! We didn’t even hear you get out of bed,” Uncle Everett said, rising from the couch as I came down the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, I was able to make eye contact with the mystery woman from across the room. Recognition finally dawned on me. She was one of Mom’s incredibly old friends. Her name was Tallis, but she went by Talli, and she was a very powerful witch. She came to town about three times a year to visit the family. When she wasn’t here, she was a literal traveling witch doctor, going from across the country to heal supernaturals wherever she was needed. During her visits, Talli never did any doctoring with the family. She called her time with us “one of her few vacations out of the year.” Instead, she would always bring me a rock from her travels. The rock would be one she “found” at one of her destinations. But it was always in the shape of where she went and painted with memories that moved like a slideshow. It was like the moving pictures inHarry Potter,but a moving postcard chronicling her journey. I had a shelf in my bedroom that was full of her rocks from the various places she had been.

Uncle Everett pulled me into a warm embrace. “How are you doing, Byrdie?”

I shrugged and then cringed at the pain the action caused. I didn’t want to truly consider the question. Instead, I cleared my throat. “Where’s Pops?”

“Oh… Well, he’s…” Uncle Everett stuttered, clearly unsure of how to say what he wanted—no, needed to say. He exchanged glances with Aunt Max and Talli. Uncle Ever was never unsure of what needed to be said. He was always so clear and confident.

“What is it, Everett? Where’s Pops? Is he okay? Where’s Mom? How long was I out for? Why aren’t either of them home?” I asked. My voice betrayed me by raising itself an octave toward the end.

“He’s… uh…”

“Everett,” Aunt Max stepped up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. They exchanged a glance. A full conversationhappened there in a matter of a few seconds before she met my eyes. They were determined, yet full of so much sadness and exhaustion, that my heart leapt up and caught in my throat.

“My darling treesong,” Aunt Max started, using her nickname for me. Her Cajun accent, just like Pops’, shined through her deep voice. “Your daddy is okay. He is at the police station.”

I held my breath, tense. I rasped. “Why?”

“Well…” Auntie Max sighed. “After you ran off, Everett fought the hunters as best he could to try to protect both you and your momma. Your momma, Doe, tried to help, too, with her lava and fire-breath. But there were too many of them. Doe and Everett got overwhelmed. A group splintered to find you. Another one captured your momma and took her away while Everett was overpowered. By the time your uncle had dealt with the hunters, both groups had long escaped. Everett shifted back and called me and Forrest to come help. Your daddy went to find you, while Everett and I went to find Doe. We followed her trail from the meadow… as far as we could… As far as it was able to lead us.”

“W-what does that mean? What do you mean that you followed her ‘as far as you could’?”

“There… There isn’t an easy way to say this, Byrd. Maybe we should wait for your father to get back?—”

“No! No, you can tell me! I can take it. I can handle it, I swear.”

“Byrdie, I?—”

I grew frantic, panicked. “Please, just tell me. Why is Pops at the station? What happened to Mom? Where is she? Is she okay? Did you find her? You have to tell me if you found her!”

“Byrd, please. There’s just no gentle way to say it. Doe… your mom…” Uncle Everett sighed. He cleared his throat. He waited a beat. Then he cleared his throat again, straightened hisshoulders, met my eyes, and pressed on with a stern voice.“The… Th-the scent trails can tell you a lot about a person, like what they’re feeling, what they’re doing, and more. It can also tell you… Well… The reason we could only follow your mom’s scents so far… was because… was because we… lost her.”

“L-l-lost her?” I scrunched my eyebrows. “What do you mean you ‘lost her’? You aren’t making any sense. Like, you l-lost her scent? What are you saying?”

Aunt Max shook her head. “No, we followed her scent to where the hunters… We followed the hunters to where they put Doe in their car and drove off. When we say that we lost her, we mean that… As we followed her scent, it changed. It lost its vibrancy… She… She died, Byrd. Your momma is gone.”

Your momma is gone.

Uncle Everett continued. “The hunters took Doe’s body with them. She held on for as long as she could… Probably to give us the chance to track her for as far as possible… So that we knew…”

Your momma is gone.

“Forrest went to the station to begin an investigation into what happened. He has wolf-shifters, vampires, air elementals, witches, and everything else you can think of following the scent we picked up?—”

Your momma is gone.

“They should have been powerful enough to track Doe to the ends of the earth, but they lost them somewhere in Tennessee. I told Forrest to let me and Max go. We could have easily found her. No one knows—knew—her scent like either one of us does—did?—”

Your momma is gone.

Your momma is gone.

Your momma is gone.

“Everett! Enough! She has enough to process,” Auntie Max interrupted. “Treesong? Byrd?”

Your momma is gone.