They Who from the Heavens Came (The Wisdom, #1)

Quetzal kept his slanted eyes on the girl as he flew overhead. He had followed her to a house of humans, and now he followed her home. He wouldn’t have liked to admit it to Horace, but something about the girl had got under his skin. He felt drawn to her and he wanted to understand who she was.

He couldn’t get over the shock of the energy readings on his cube. Humans never registered more than white. That boy – Seth – came up yellow, and sometimes a vibrant orange. In the cornfield, Quetzal had picked up a rainbow of colours from the Descendants below. But the girl…even now, as she walked languorously down the road, singing to herself…she registered a deep scarlet.

Itzy reached her house and hurried up the path to the front door. The dim light cast by a street lamp made her ebony hair look indigo. Quetzal landed softly behind her and followed her to the front door. He stood beside her as she fished for her keys. Even through his protective bubble, he could feel her subtle body heat.

How oh how was she doing that?

Despite Horace’s proclamations about everyone on Earth smelling of impending death, Itzel Loveguard didn’t share this scent. Nothing about her rotted. She was filled with the blessed aroma of life, even more so than any Ancient. It was so strong, it made him dizzy. And yet, he wanted to drink it in, in great gulps – to fill his lungs until they burst. He was hit with the sudden urge to grab her and hold her to him so he could run his bird’s nose over her hair, over and over again, just taking in her glorious vitality.

It wasn’t like him. Quetzal had been many things in his long life, but never a lover – a father – a friend. He had left all that behind when he’d left Earth and resurrected himself on Nibiru. It was frightening to find that in a heartbeat, he thought he understood what drew Aidan to this girl.

She glanced in his direction, and he froze. A good thing, too, because his hand hovered in the air, prepared to touch her. That would have been a disaster.

What was wrong with him? Five thousand years of self-control and he was going to pieces over the smell of a Halfling girl? Again, he was thankful Horace wasn’t with him now. He didn’t think he could make it clear that this wasn’t some Earthly fascination. There was a power to the girl beyond anything Quetzal had ever encountered.

He didn’t know what she could do. And while part of him longed to find out, he dreaded to think what she could conjure for him.

She continued to face him for a long, long time, until he was convinced she could see him. The blood rushing through his eardrums pounded so loudly, he wondered how she could not hear it, despite the cloak his cube provided him.

To his great relief, she shook her head at herself. She thought she was imagining things. Of course there was no one there with her.

* * *

When Itzy stepped in the house, she found her mother studying a takeaway menu.

‘I don’t feel like cooking,’ she explained. ‘How about we get a pizza and have a TV picnic in the living room?’

After so many years of looking after herself, Itzy thought this sounded like a little slice of Heaven.

A half-hour later, the pizza arrived and they curled up on the sofa together. Myra switched on the television and they were soon laughing at a dreadful reality TV programme. There was no room for deep thought while watching rubbish – which Itzy realised had its purpose. You couldn’t afford to take everything seriously all the time. She had learned that lesson the hard way.

On screen, there was a girl from Newcastle who had decided bright orange was a good look for a northerner, and she intended to show it off by wearing hardly any clothing. What she lacked in coverage, she more than made up for in makeup. It left Itzy wondering about Aidan’s perpetual tan, despite where he’d grown up. She wondered who his real parents were. Maybe they were South American – or maybe just one of them, because his hair was an English brown, and his eyes were the colour of the Irish Sea.

The girl from Newcastle was now saying unpleasant things about another girl she knew, who’d supposedly had a fling with her boyfriend. It was the most painful love triangle Itzy had ever seen, and it left her thinking about her position with Seth and Aidan.

During the advert break, Itzy turned to her mother and said, ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course. Anything.’

Itzy tilted her head. Her black hair fell over her shoulder and tickled her neck. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a proper conversation with her mother. She hoped she could have one now. ‘How did you know you were in love with Dad?’ she wondered.

Myra’s smile at this was bittersweet. ‘That’s a hard question to answer.’

‘Because love is so hard to explain?’

‘No. Because I fell in love with someone I shouldn’t have, so how am I anything to go by?’

Itzy hadn’t considered that. She’d hoped she and her mother would have one of those beautiful mother-daughter discussions she always saw in films.

Sensing her daughter’s disappointment, Myra said, ‘I suppose I can tell you what love isn’t.’

Itzy looked up in curiosity, and listened.

‘Love isn’t compromise. I know, controversial, but it’s true. If you have to compromise yourself, you’re not in love.’

Itzy chewed over this, and her mother continued.

‘Real love accepts who you are, faults and all. Real love is working through your difficulties and learning from your mistakes, from each other. Real love is being able to listen to what the other person has to say, see the nuggets of truth in it, and apply them to yourself to become a better person. But it’s not about changing yourself.

‘And love is about equality. Don’t ever leave yourself feeling unbalanced. The biggest warning sign with your father was I always felt too breathless around him. Probably not what you want to think about, but…I couldn’t stand being away from him. I didn’t just want him with me – I felt like I couldn’t live unless he was there. I lost my sense of identity. I don’t know how I let it happen, but he controlled me. And that was fifty percent my fault, because I could’ve walked away, but I never did. He had me so broken, I thought I needed his approval just to be alive.’

Her mother stopped there and allowed her daughter a moment to process this. Then Itzy said in a small voice, ‘I hope that never happens to me.’

Myra ran her hand over Itzy’s hair, a sad smile on her face. ‘It won’t.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because. With you…it’s the other way around. Forgive me for saying this…but you’re so like your father,’ Myra blurted. ‘I don’t mean in all the horrible ways, but…you’re so passionate and determined.’ She drew back and cupped Itzy’s face with her hands. ‘When I look at you…I see all the things I used to love about your father. But I see you doing them better. You’ll never be happy unless you find someone who can handle you – all of you – without leaving you feeling guilty for being who you are.’

Itzy was nonplussed. Myra had all but dropped out of her life for seven years, and yet she still seemed to understand Itzy in a way no one else did.

Myra nudged her daughter’s chin and smiled. ‘Are you in love?’ There was no mockery in her question; she took Itzy’s feelings seriously, regardless of her age.

Itzy shrugged. ‘I dunno. I’m sure it’s too soon to tell. It’s just confusing, you know?’

Her mother nodded. ‘It always is,’ she said. ‘Is this about Seth, or that boy Aidan you might have gone out on a date with?’

Itzy laughed. ‘Both?’

‘Ah.’ The advert break ended and Myra paused the television. ‘You feel something for both of them?’

‘Sort of. It’s not the same feeling, though.’

‘Well, what do you feel for each of them?’

‘That’s just it. I don’t know. I think….’ Itzy tried to think of the right way to put it. ‘I guess I’ve spent so many years cutting off those kinds of feelings…I’m not sure I trust myself, anymore.’

Myra gave her a sad look. ‘I’m so sorry. I wish things had been different, for you. I can’t wish your father out of my life, or I wouldn’t have you – but I wish I’d left sooner. I wish I’d been there for you.’

Itzy clasped her mother’s hand. ‘You’re here now,’ she said.

They shared a smile.

Then Myra said, ‘Itzy, listen. I know I haven’t always provided the best example – but don’t cut off those feelings. The bravest thing you can do is open your heart to love, even after you’ve seen how painful it can be.’

Itzy swallowed back the lump forming in her throat. ‘But what if it’s not real? What if I’m rushing into things?’

Myra stroked her daughter’s cheek. ‘It doesn’t really matter; it’s all part of growing up. Just be careful, that’s all. Trust your instincts; they’ll usually send you the right way.’

Overcome with a flush of love for her mother, Itzy threw her arms around Myra. They held each other a long time.

‘When did life get so complicated?’ Itzy murmured against her mother’s shoulder.

Myra laughed and ran her fingers through her daughter’s thick hair. ‘It’s always been complicated,’ she said. ‘You just never noticed it before.’