Julie Kagawa

Talon


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me. But our teachers had instructed us that it was crucial to see the differences, to recognize the individual, so I did that now. “Uncle” Liam was lanky and wind-burned, with russet hair and a neatly trimmed beard peppered with white. He had a stern face and unsmiling, swamp-water eyes that swept over us critically, before he gave a short, brisk nod. “Aunt” Sarah was plump and cheerful looking, her brown hair pulled into a neat bun, her dark eyes watching us with hawklike intensity.

      “Well,” Mr. Ramsey said, tucking his tablet under an arm. “My job here is done. I’ll have Murray deliver your bags to your rooms. Mr. O’Conner, you know who to call if there is an emergency. Ember, Dante...” He nodded to us, fixing me with a firm glare. “Obey your guardians. Remember your training. Your evaluators will be in to check on you in three months.”

      And, just like that, he swept from the room, out the front door and was gone. He didn’t say goodbye, and we hadn’t expected him to. Sentiment was not a big thing among our kind.

      “Ember and Dante Hill, welcome to your new home,” Uncle Liam announced, sounding like he’d done this speech before. He probably had. “I’m sure your instructors have informed you of the rules, but let me remind you, in case you forgot. While you are here, Sarah and I are your guardians, thus we are responsible for you. Meals are served at 8:00 a.m., noon and 6:30 p.m. You are not required to be home for mealtimes, but you are to call to let us know where you are. You should already have the numbers memorized, so there is no excuse not to. Talon has provided you with a vehicle—I understand you both have driver’s licenses—but you must ask permission before taking it out. Curfew is strictly at midnight, no exceptions, no questions asked. And, of course, the most important rule.” His green-gray eyes narrowed. “Under no circumstances are you to Shift into your true forms. And you are never to fly, for any reason whatsoever. With the amount of people, technology and hidden threats, the risk of being seen is far too great. Your old school was on Talon property and they controlled the airspace around it, so the risks were minimal if you needed to Shift, but that is not the case here. Unless you receive a direct order from Talon itself, flying around in your true forms is strictly, one hundred percent forbidden. Is that understood?”

      I managed a brief nod, though the thought made me physically ill. How did they expect me to never fly again? They might as well just tear my wings off.

      “If you fail to comply with these rules,” Liam continued, “or if we deem you unfit for human society, Talon will be informed at once, and you will be evaluated to see if reeducation is necessary. Other than that, you are free to come and go as you please. Do you have any questions?”

      I did. I might be completely earthbound, but that didn’t mean I had to stay here. “So, the beach,” I said, and he arched an eyebrow at me. “Can we go down there any time?”

      Sarah chuckled. “It’s a public beach, Ember. As long as you’re home by curfew, you can spend as much time down there as you want. In fact, it’s a good place to meet the locals—a lot of kids your age go there to hang out.” She turned, beckoning to us with a chubby hand. “But here, let me show you to your rooms and you can unpack.”

      Music to my ears.

      * * *

      My room was on the top floor, light and airy, with bare but cheerful orange walls and large windows. It had a fantastic view of the beach, as if I needed any more encouragement. As soon as Sarah left, I dug a green two-piece bathing suit and cutoff shorts out of my suitcase, not even bothering to unpack my clothes. Talon had provided us with a wardrobe for sunny Cali, so I had plenty of suits, shorts and numerous pairs of sandals to choose from. I guessed they really did care about us fitting in.

      But before I did anything else, I carefully dug my jewelry box out from where it was nestled within a pile of shirts and set it on my new dresser. Talon had provided us with everything—clothes, food, entertainment—but this small wooden box, fashioned like an old chest, was where I kept all my personal things. I unlocked the box with the hidden key and gently pushed back the lid, peeking in. The bright sunlight sparkled off a collection of small treasures: a couple of rings, a gold necklace, an assortment of old coins collected over the years. I picked up a piece of quartz I’d found in the desert one afternoon and held it up to the light, letting it glitter in my palm. Hey, I couldn’t help it. I liked shiny things; it was in my blood.

      Replacing the crystal, I closed the box and checked myself in the mirror above the dresser. A short, somewhat spiky-haired human girl gazed back. After what seemed like an eternity, I had become used to her face; it had been a long time since the human in the mirror seemed like a stranger.

      Whirling around, I strode to my door, flung it open and ran straight into Dante.

      “Oof,” he grunted, staggering backward as I tried not to trip and fall over him. He had changed into shorts and a loose sleeveless shirt, and his red hair was mussed as if already wind tossed. He gave me a rueful look as he caught himself on the railing, rubbing his chest. “Ow. Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to go check out the beach, but it looks like you beat me to it.”

      I shot him a grin, the same as when we competed against each other in school, defiant and challenging. “Race you to the water.”

      He rolled his eyes. “Come on, sis. We’re not in training any—” But I had already rushed past him down the hall, and heard him scramble to catch up.

      Bursting out of the house, we flew down the steps, leaped the picket fence and broke into a flat-out run toward the ocean. I loved running, or anything that involved speed and exertion, feeling my muscles stretch and the wind in my face. It reminded me of flying, and though nothing could compare to the pure thrill of soaring through the clouds, beating my twin in a footrace, or anything really, ran a very close second.

      Unfortunately, Dante and I were pretty evenly matched, and we reached the water’s edge at the same time. Splashing into the turquoise sea at last, I gave a breathless whoop, just as a wave came out of nowhere and smashed into me, filling my mouth with salty water and knocking me off my feet.

      Wading over, Dante reached down to pull me up, but he was laughing so hard he could barely stand. Grabbing the offered wrist, I gave it a yank, and he toppled in after me as another wave came hissing in and covered us both.

      Sputtering, Dante rolled upright, shaking water from his hair and wringing out his shirt. I staggered to my feet as the water receded, sucking at my ankles as it swept back to the ocean. “You know,” my twin muttered, giving me an exasperated half smile, “you typically take off your regular clothes before you decide to do a face-plant into the ocean. That’s what normal people do, anyway.”

      I grinned at him cheekily. “What? Now you have an excuse to take off your shirt and show everyone the manly six-pack you’ve been working on all year.”

      “Ha-ha. Hey, look, a shark.”

      He pointed behind me. I turned, and he shoved me into another wave. With a shriek, I sprang up and tore after him as he took off down the beach, the foaming seawater lapping at my toes.

      Sometime later, we were both drenched, hot and covered in sand. We’d also traveled pretty far down the beach, passing sunbathers and families, though the strip was emptier than I’d thought it would be. Farther out, I could see surfers on their colorful boards, gliding through waves much larger than those close to shore. I wondered, again, what it was like to surf, if it was anything like flying. I made it a priority to find out.

      Closer to the edge of the beach, a volleyball net stood in the sand, and several teenagers bumped a ball back and forth over the net. There were six of them, four boys and two girls, all wearing shorts or bikinis. They were very tan, as if they’d spent a lifetime out in the sun, the girls slender and beautiful, the boys shirtless and muscular. A pair of sleek yellow boards lay nearby, showing that at least a couple of them were surfers. Curious, I stopped to watch from a safe distance away, but Dante nudged my shoulder and jerked his head in their direction.

      “Come on,” he murmured, and started ambling toward the group. Frowning, I followed.

      “Um. What are we doing?”