Lyra’s eyes cracked open. While the pain was nothing compared to what she had experienced only a few minutes before when Edward had forced her transformation, a lingering ache in her chest made her first few breaths wheeze through her beak.
The colors around her were dizzyingly vivid. She’d never needed glasses but everything, from the individual blades of grass peeking up between cracks in the sidewalk across the street to the spots on the ladybug marching sedately between her splayed legs, was as crisp and clear as if she was looking at them with a magnifying glass.
Granted, a magnifying glass that had a weird UV effect, as if she’d stepped into the lair of Alice in Wonderland’s caterpillar. A nearby dandelion was a corona of color, no longer a simple yellow; the center was a vivid red-orange, and the petals surrounded it like a lion’s mane of white. The palm trees carefully placed every few yards on both sides of the street had blue-white splashes near their bases. Similar blue-white speckles were all over the sidewalk, and a few on the sides of buildings. Everything around her gave off such incredible colors that it was like seeing the world through the high-def lens of an alternate, cartoon reality.
A few hard blinks didn’t dispel the LSD trip.
She closed her eyes and counted to ten.
Nope.
Tucking away the little piece of her that was screaming in panic and wanted to sit and rock back and forth until the crazy world around her went away, she clung to the hope that James might know what in the hell had happened. More important, how to turn things back to normal and make her human again.
He was still lying prone on the hood of the car. She slowly rolled to her feet, legs awkwardly spread for balance. Pigeon-like, head bobbing, she waddled over to him, squinting against the weirdly bright colors that she’d never noticed on his skin before. The tattoo-like markings made no sense, though a few were in familiar shapes that looked like something she might find in some of the tomes in the back room. Whatever they were, they didn’t look like the sort of thing you could get at just any body art and piercings shop. Not with the strange blue-white glow they were emitting, even under full sunlight. The symbols were different but had a similar phosphorescent quality as the one she’d seen on the back of Edward’s hand.
Lyra nudged his foot with her wing. He didn’t react.
With a whistling sigh, she stepped back. Feeling stupid, she spread her wings and gave a couple of half-hearted flaps. It didn’t accomplish much more than pushing her back across the sidewalk a couple of feet, her talons skittering over concrete. This whole flying business wasn’t as easy as the pigeons and sparrows that always hung out on the awning above the coffee shop across the street made it look.
Trying a new tactic, she attempted to use her hind claws to climb up his pant leg instead. While she ended up having to use her beak to cling to his jeans as she inched her way up, it was more effective. She made her way up his chest, spreading her wings for balance as she used one foot to prod at his cheek.
It took a moment, but soon he was squinting up at her, lifting a hand to shade his eyes. Then yelped as it settled in that the weight on his chest was a huge bird radiating heat like a furnace. He shoved at her reflexively.
Lyra hopped back, flailing her wings.
“Oooh, Mommy, look at the parrot!”
A little girl coming out of the dance studio a few buildings down was tugging her mother’s wrist, pointing at the pair. Rubbing the back of his head with one hand, James hastily rolled to his feet, scooping Lyra up with the other hand, ignoring her indignant squawks as he held her to his chest and ducked inside the book store. He let her go as soon as they were inside, turning around to pop the lock and rest his brow against his forearm as he leaned against the door.
“I’m really hoping you have an explanation,” he said without turning around, “because that guy having his hands on that particular book spells catastrophe on a level you can’t comprehend.”
She paced back and forth, head bobbing in agitation. “Let me out of here. I have to find him. He has to turn me back!”
James turned around, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It might have escaped your notice, but you’re not in any shape to go chasing after anyone right now. Best case, you’ll end up in a zoo. Worst case, he’ll figure out what he just walked away from and come back for you.”
Lyra huffed, her chest feathers puffing out as she came to a halt in front of him. “What do you mean? Help me! Can you turn me back?”
He hesitated. “I can try, but I’ve never seen a spell like this actually work. This kind of transformation shouldn’t be possible. I don’t want to hurt you...”
“Too late for that,” she snapped. Then lowered her head, her crest going flat. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to take this out on you.”
He slumped to the floor, reaching out to skim his fingertips over her feathers. He examined the fine coat of ash it left behind, rubbing his fingers together to send tiny flecks to dance with the dust drifting in the sunbeams around them.
“Tell me what you know. Did he give you his name? Did you hear the words of the spell he cast? Remember what gestures he made? Anything could help.”
Lyra took to a nervous strut back and forth across the floor, recounting what details she could. James said nothing, taking it all in, though he frowned deeply upon hearing how Edward had gotten around the anti-theft wards. More so once she mentioned the symbol she had seen on the back of Edward’s hand.
Once she had finished, James nodded, then sat forward. He ran his hand along the contours of her body from about an inch above her feathers. She could have sworn she felt his touch, even though he never made physical contact.
“I don’t know how, but he’s given you what we call Sight. You shouldn’t have been able to see that mark on him, or the marks on me. Hell, even I can’t see them without concentration. Maybe it’s because of what you are now. Whatever the reason, you’re going to be—pardon the pun—the hottest commodity in town as soon as wind of what you are gets out. I need to think for a minute.”
She poked at his foot with a claw. “Turn me back! You’ve got magic. You can do it, can’t you?”
“This is way out of my league, Lyra. I can try, but chances are I’ll make things worse. You’ve seen what I do. This isn’t it.”
Her wings fanned as she resumed stalking back and forth. “What the hell, James? You’ve been trying to get your hands on that book for weeks. Don’t give me that line of bull. You know something about this! I know you do!”
He rolled to his feet, thrusting out an accusatory finger. “You let him have the book, so don’t play righteous with me. I told you it was dangerous but you didn’t listen. Listen to me now. I could kill you, Lyra. You’ll be dead if I screw up even an inch. This isn’t an illusion I can break. He completely changed you on a cellular level. Unraveling this mess is going to be a goddamned nightmare, even with the book. Not to mention what you are. If anybody in this town even gets a whiff of it, you’ll probably end up in somebody’s lab.”
“What? Why?” she cried.
“Why do you think? He turned you into a freaking phoenix.”