Flying Without Wings

We lay in bed together awake yet silent, our legs were intertwined and our heads were touching. The warmth emitting from our bodies was captured and insulated by the duvet draped over us. Any sudden movement would allow the comforting warmth to escape and give the cold winter fingers of Cullen a chance to creep in. Neither of us said a word but I knew Bastian was thinking about the Secret Garden Party just like I was. I absentmindedly stroked the soft fabric of my new bedspread as I tried to make sense of the night and everything I had seen. Bastian had laughed when I had bought this duvet cover just the week before. It was pastel pink and bright white with pale images of rabbits and birds and flowers, not the manliest of bedspreads but it was the softest. He would never not want me to have something I loved just because it wasn’t to his taste so after he had finished laughing he helped me put it on, kissed me on the cheek and told me I was lovely. I loved that soft side of him.

I had a dull pounding in my head presumably from the cocktails and wine I had enjoyed the night before, sitting up was an effort. I moved slowly as to not let too much of our fiery warmth escape and rubbed my forehead. The motion of sliding up, even though slowly had made my headache really start to thump. Moving my feet about I couldn’t feel the warm body or Marvillo, he was usually curled up at the end of the bed like a little 5kg dumbbell that emitted heat. The first few nights I had hated having a weight on my legs, but now he gave me comfort. I looked around wincing and found he had made himself a cosy bed out of the crumpled up papers Zenasia had given me to read the night before. Leaning down with great difficulty and a few pained huffs I managed to drag one out from under Marvillo’s sleeping head. It was a drool sodden booklet titled; Angha a Brief History, I flicked through it looking for some sort of answer to a question I didn’t know. It was hard for me to comprehend that I never knew these creatures existed until a few months ago. This wasn’t like discovering the hilariousness of the three toed sloth or the cuteness of the pink fairy armadillo, this was like becoming part of a secret society that you didn’t know existed. From this booklet I could see that Angha did have an extensive history that was kept a secret from the rest of the world. There was reports of bones being excavated in China, Italy, Australia and Antarctica dating back to 800AD. I thumbed through a few more pages and came across a gorgeous hand drawn illustration. It was of an enormous Angha, it towered over the tiny drawn people and had a little rider on its back. The rider was no bigger than one of the Angha’s glorious feathered wings. Its tail was that of a peacocks, it had been painted in the most glorious purples deep blues and lime greens as had its wings. Evelyn was right, their wings had changed a lot, I ran my finger along one of Marvillo’s’ leathery black ones and he reverberated with delight. The creature in the painting looked like an Irish Wolf Hound, it was scruffy and grey but proud. I wondered why their wings had changed so much but my train of thought was interrupted by Bastian murmuring. I glanced over my booklet and could see him studying the invitation Zenasia had given me the night before. The sun coming through the lace curtains speckled across his charming face and his brow was slightly furrowed where the sun was reaching for his eyes. His usually taught topknot had come loose and his dark straight hair fell into his brown eyes. They were narrow as he read the invitation and rubbed his long, once musical fingers across the patchy stubble growing on his chin. Behind him, covered in a light layer of dust, was the cello he used to play every day. A small black spider had made its home amongst the abandoned strings, at least something was still enjoying it. One day I hoped he would play it for me, of course I would have to remove the spider first, like all true Cullen boys he was terrified of them. Bastian rolled over onto his belly exposing a black tattoo on his shoulder. This sudden movement let some of our precious warm air escape and I huddled in closer to him, I could smell his sweet skin and glanced at his tattoo, I had seen it a million times but now I really studied it. It was supposed to be a dragon but it could almost be an Angha - the leathery wings, long tail and in-described slick body. Was I seeing things? Perhaps I was just getting excited, I traced it with a black nail wondering where he had got it from.

“Last night was fun and all,” he started, crudely bringing me back to reality. “But I feel like this isn’t really an invitation, it reads like more of a demand, you know? I’d rather just chill here or go to the pub tonight.” He huffed.

“Yes me too but I don’t think we have much of an option.” I tugger the red invitation from those beautiful fingers and read it again.

For those who have graced my house before,

I must insist you come once more.

Now you have tasted my delights and treats,

You must return and bring what I seek.

To ignore my generosity and this kind invitation,

Would mean your life may come to some limitation.

Reading this invitation with your own will,

Makes it binding and its call you must fulfil.

So come and enjoy another evening of laughter,

And the three of you shall be happy with us forever after.

Address: 36 Hyacinth Street

Dress Code: Lovely

Bring: Your Treasure

RSVP: Compulsory

SS

“Why does she want us to go back? That party was surreal and the food and drink were amazing but two nights in a row? We don’t even know the bird, some of the other guests were a bit weird, and what’s this forever business about?” Bastian demanded ripping the invitation out of my hands scrunching it up in a ball and throwing it in the direction of the wastebasket.

“You didn’t seem to mind miss gold sequins last night, and besides I don’t think she really wants us, she wants our Angha.”

“Our what?”

“Marvillo.”

I told Bastian what Evelyn had said to me before Zenasia had Bear usher her away from sight. He sat up with his mouth open shaking his head. “So that’s why they got rid of the two people snogging from the tram, because they didn’t bring their Angah?”

“Angha, and yes there is some connection between us and Marvillo that we don’t know about, but Evelyn said he picked us, he knows us.”

“But what does that mean? And what does ZS stand for? Is it Senasia something?” Bastian had as many questions as I did, but as I quietly pondered them, he got annoyed and shouted about them.

“I’m not sure and this literature is all a bit one sided if you know what I mean. What really bothers me is Evelyn spoke of a war that killed most of the Angha, I’m guessing these ZS people were on one side, but who was on the other? I think I know someone that will be able to shed some more light on this situation.”

“Who?”

“Audrey Hazel.”

Knock, knock, knock.