Page 6 of Where Broken Wings Fly

Pixies.

I was the size of a pixie. So was Killian, Shea, and Niamh.

The massive trees that surrounded us were not trees — they were blades of grass.

It’s just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream.

“Where are you taking me?” I whispered, far too afraid that my voice may shatter the absurdity of this dream. And afraid to bring an end to a moment that felt so much like a fairytale.

Killian regarded me, his eyes gleaming. “The world is much bigger than you realize. One only has to be small enough to see it.”

Shea let out a piercing whistle using her fingers and her lips, the four of us remaining stationary as we awaited whatever she was calling. Flexing my hands repetitively at my side, I hardly noticed as Killian stepped alongside me and glanced down his nose.

“Breathing, human?”

“Olivia.”

“Olivia.” His stiff face broke for a moment to let through a cautious smile. Then he leant in conspiratorially, his body warm against mine. “We are going to have to go even smaller to fly.”

“To fly?”

Just as I croaked out my disbelief, their mounts arrived. Without awaiting my answer, Killian shrank us even more until we were a suitable size to ride said mounts.

There were a thousand things I wished to never see in my life, and the true face of a hoverfly up close was apparently on there. The yellow-and-black striped bugs settled evenly over their legs in front of us, their tremendous, textured eyes whipping from each of our bodies until they let out a soft purr as Shea stepped towards one of them.

Shea, her arms stiff with impressive muscles and her hands lacking any knowledge of softness from the tense way that she held them, slid her fingers along the hoverfly’s settled, transparent wing. “Caraid?”

The bug somehow understood her question and pressed his fearsome head against her torso, nearly knocking her over in the process. Once she found her balance again, she simply turned to Killian and nodded.

Killian and Niamh let out a relieved breath as if there was any sense to what was happening. I didn’t have time to ask them what, exactly, all of that meant because Killian grabbed onto the bend of my elbow and pulled me towards the first of the buzzing insects.

Stepping behind me and placing two hands on my waist, his words breezed over my ear. “Don’t worry, he won’t bite.” With a hoist, he lifted me into the air and invoked a screech from my lips before I settled on the beast's back.

Just a dream.

My inner chant began to sync up with the rapid beating of the bugs' glass-like wings. Seconds later a mass pressed against my back as Killian seated himself behind me.

“He might not bite, but I might fall,” I snorted.

Killian’s breathy laughter pushed at my hair on all sides. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you fall.”

His words were like fire, searing at my bloodstream and daring me to believe him.

Running a hand down the length of the bug’s side, Killian wrapped his free hand around my waist and leant against my back. “Hinge at your hips, lay as close to his back as you can.”

Obliging – because what choice did I have – I grimaced as Killian’s weight pushed against me as he, too, leant forward. I felt his thighs tighten around the hoverfly, and then I was left swallowing sea-breeze as the creature pushed off of the ground.

We were completely vertical for several minutes. If I wasn’t swallowing mouthful after mouthful of air, I would have been screaming. Wind tore around us like a weapon as we climbed and climbed, until the grass beneath us looked a normal size once more. Not because we were back to regular sizes, but because we were now soaring through the air.

Killian pressed his lips to my ear. “You can sit up now.”

My back snapped straight immediately, nearly dislodging him entirely as we both found balance over our tailbones.

The view was magnificent. While everything was the same as I left it, the world had become so much bigger. The possibilities and the mere vastness of the earth I lived on became increasingly apparent as the hoverfly glided along, his stunning wings reflecting small prisms of light in all directions as the sun caught them.

The cloak that had dragged at my neck could not catch up to me, to the height that I now found myself at. A pooling of darkness was left behind, freeing my body for a few moments as I realized exactly how my own skin felt against my body. For that reason, I tore my arms from the death-grip they had around my stomach and unfolded them on either side of me, letting the wind tear at my face and pull the brightest of smiles forth. Killian’s chest beat against my back in suggestion of a laugh as he watched me from behind, but I didn’t care how ridiculous I looked. I was flying.

After several dozen minutes of remaining in that state, pretending that I was the one gliding through the sudden appearance of trees on all sides, Killian tapped my thigh. Trying my best to figure out that wordless command without having to ask him, I curled my body forward once more and took a fistful of hoverfly-pelt in both of my hands. Killian folded over top of me seconds later, and my intuition was proved correct when we all suddenly soared towards the ground. I had thought take-off was stomach-churning and gut-wrenching, but I was wrong. Descending was. It was far worse than taking off had been, and I actually felt my stomach lining dislodge from my abdomen and punch up to my throat, where I fought with all of my might to keep that one bite of porridge within me.