Page 93 of Scars Like Wings
Maisie gave me a soft smile. She sighed. “Well, I want to learn more about fitches. With Daddy Dearest being as much of a dead end as he was a deadbeat, I kind of don’t have any other options or any idea what to do next. I just wish I hadsomething.”
“Hey, what about the Archive?” Simone asked.
“Did you already forget the hours we spent reading witch books only to find out everything about howtheirmagic works, but nothing about fitches?”
“Yeah, but therearebooks about them, right, Byrd? Aren’t they just locked in the Vaults or something?”
Realization dawned on me as I followed Simone’s train of thought. “I get what you are saying! Simone is right. The Archive has materials on fitches, for sure, but they are protected and locked away in the Vaults. Still, the Archive and Izzy would both be happy to lend you some of the works to get some answers.”
“Holy fuck, that’s such a good idea,” Maisie said. “Can you ask Isidora if I can come in for research? Maybe I can ask her some questions, too, and she can help!”
“I love it, and I got you! I’ll shoot her and Rhois a text to see if you can come in tomorrow!”
Our food soon arrived, and we started to dive in. I was on my second bite of my Korean BBQ Pork Belly Hash when Simone asked me. “Last, but certainly not least, Byrdie! How was your week?”
All too suddenly, the food became hard to chew in my mouth. I quickly swallowed before chugging the rest of my first espresso martini and most of my second one. Then I filled them in on the grimoire. I told them about how it had come to life and the story of Mom moving to Blackbell and starting to build a life here. Even remembering my mom in living color playing out in front of me was enough to make me tear up.
“The grimoire hasn’t revealed any other stories or anything. It only has that one. But I have read that same story so much I have it memorized by now. You want to know something else crazy? Every time I open the book to read it, my pendant warms up. It’ll stay warm for hours afterward. I have been so cold lately that I have been grateful for it.” I toyed with the necklace as it laid underneath my scarf, casting heat through me alongside the heat of the restaurant.
“Could it be connected to the book?” Simone questioned.
“Could be? I hadn’t thought about that.”
Maisie’s eyebrows furrowed. “Have you experienced anything else weird? Any other random symptoms?”
I shook my head. “No, just being cold all the time. I have to keep the heat full-blasting when I get home, or I will just feel so cold I will never get warm. It makes me just want to sleep for days.”
“Maybe this is all connected: the tattoo, the grimoire, your coldness. But if it is, what if it’s making you sick? What if something comes up and you start feeling worse?” Simone worried.
I shivered. I was afraid to even ask what else could happen. Was a book featuring my dead mom’s handwriting and my crush seeing my scars as a tattoo that no one else could see not bad enough?
Maisie shook her head. “It doesn’t make any sense. Yeah, the magic from the book looks similar to your wings, but it’s also not at the same time. It’s tricky to explain it.”
“Well, remember what Izzy said the other day? There’s a complex and powerful concealment spell on the book. Maybe there’s one on Byrd’s back-scar-wing-tattoo thingy, too.”
Maisie chewed her food thoughtfully. “It very well could be. It’s weird, though. The magic just all looks so different. It’s confusing.”
Then Maisie put her fork down. She folded her hands in front of her face and looked at me with a straightforwardness that took me aback. “Bee? Can I ask you something kind of scary and insane?”
“I don’t know if it’s going to be crazier than that question, but shoot.”
“What if Quinn is lying about seeing the tattoo? I mean, no one else can see it. No one else has any idea what she’s talking about. Yes, there is magic there, but it could have just been forhealing you and ensuring you stay alive. How do we know this all isn’t just some fool’s errand?”
“Quinn wouldn’t do that,” I said without hesitation.
“But Byrd?—”
“I know what I sound like, okay? I’m sure she’s capable of it. Everyone is capable of failure and disappointment, but I don’t think Quinn would do that to me. My gut is telling me that, not my heart—although she is trying to scream it at me, too. I know I just met her, but I like her a lot and… I just have a feeling about her. I can’t explain it.”
“Hey. I get it.” Simone reached over and grabbed my hand to squeeze. “That’s how I feel about Cole.”
Maisie held her hands up. “Hey, if you like her, I love her. I just want to make sure we explore all avenues here before we go all in on anything. If you trust her, we trust you.”
I nodded.
The three of us continued chit-chatting and finishing our meals. I put on a smile and tried to be present in the conversation, but I was finding it hard to think past Maisie’s question.What if Quinn is lying about seeing the tattoo?Every time my brain asked the question, my gut and heart answered unequivocallyNO. It just didn’t feel right or possible. It was like trying to make yourself enjoy Nutella when you would rather eat a playground woodchip. It couldn’t be.
I liked Quinn. I had a huge crush on her. I couldn’t deny that the idea of her was becoming less fictional with every text we sent one another, every FaceTime or phone call, every meme and video, with just everything. I could tell she liked me back, too. She texted me every morning when she woke up. She texted at night to wish me a good night’s rest. She sent the most random questions just to see how I would answer. I could tell that she enjoyed how I thought, and that alone made me want to marry her tomorrow. Quinn just gave no reason to lie about this. Sheseemed shocked when I told her I couldn’t see the tattoo. She was worried about it and about me. Either she’s a really good actress—which she wasn’t. She worked on building sets in school where I was a performer—or, she’s being earnest. Quinn had just been so incredible.