Chapter One: Cove

The lock on the basement door clicks open. I huddle against the wall, bracing myself for the inevitable. Father knows what I did, and he’s sure to be furious with me. I rehearse my defense in my head: I was starving. If I died, you wouldn’t have a slave anymore. And it’s not like I took that much food…

Who am I kidding? He won’t listen to a freak like me.

The door creaks open and a shadowed figure begins to descend the steps. I hope my punishment isn’t too severe this time. He’s been busy with work—he might not have time to beat me much.

The figure stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns on the light. Breathing a sigh of relief, I recognize that it isn’t the esteemed Governor Hartford—it’s his perfect son, my older brother Samuel.

“Did I frighten you?” Sam asks.

“No,” I lie.

“All right,” he says doubtfully. “I just came down here to tell you that he knows you took that stale bread a few days ago. And, Cove, I should warn you...Father’s not happy.” I don’t answer. After a moment, he kicks at one of the red and black feathers that litter the floor. “You should really try to keep this place cleaner, by the way. You know he hates your mutation more than he hates you as a person. These just remind him of it…” His eyes travel to my wings, which are clearly visible through the holes I’ve cut in the back of my shirt. Maybe that wasn’t a good idea, in hindsight. Father certainly wasn’t happy when he noticed what I’d done. I shudder at the painful memory, but I don’t let myself focus on it.

“Listen,” I tell Samuel. “I’m n-not responsible for what happened in this town. Do you really think I want to be like this?”

Before he can answer, Father’s voice sounds from the floor above us. “Samuel, are you down there? What have I told you about talking to that creature?”

Samuel scowls and turns away. “I have to go. Please try not to cause any trouble.”

“I can’t make any promises,” I mutter.

He turns off the light and goes back upstairs without locking the door again, leaving me alone with my thoughts. No one knows I exist, except the governor’s immediate family. And, really, it’s better this way. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.

Sometimes, I want to escape so badly that I feel like I might scream if I have to spend one more minute in this forsaken house. I don’t, though. I learned a long time ago that reacting in any way only makes the punishments worse.

I shift positions slightly, hoping to lessen the discomfort in my right leg. The pain is especially bad on cold winter days like this. As if I wasn’t different enough, with my wings, I was unfortunate enough to be born with a sort of brain injury, as well...

I’m jarred out of my thoughts by Father’s voice. I didn’t even notice him coming—a major mistake. I’ll have to be more vigilant next time.

“Didn’t I tell you a while ago to bring those potatoes up to the kitchen?” he demands, gesturing at a large burlap bag. “But here you are, refusing to obey me. Not that I’m surprised! You’ve always been lazy and stupid. I don’t know why I keep you around, anyway.”

I avoid his eyes. No matter how hard I try to keep my voice steady, I still trip over my words slightly, another effect of my condition. My fear doesn’t help matters, either. “I’m sorry, s-sir. It w-won’t happen again.”

“S-stop st-stuttering!” Father sneers, mocking me. “It makes you sound like even more of an idiot than you are—though that’s not saying much.”

I look down, trying to hide the expression on my face. But my wings rustle and twitch, giving away my anger. Father takes a few quick steps towards me, his face reddening. His fist strikes my face, and I stumble backwards. I can already feel the skin around my eye beginning to bruise and swell.

“Let that be a lesson,” he snarls, his voice low, rough, and deadly. If his supporters could hear him speak like this, they’d run the other way and never vote for him again. With that, he leaves, giving me one more order before he slams the door shut. “Tonight, you’ll be clearing the snow from the yard. I’ll fetch you once there’s no risk of anyone seeing you.”

*

The Governor may be a tyrant, but he keeps his word. I wake up at midnight to a flashlight shining in my eyes. Once he sees that I’m awake, he kicks me in the side. I stand up slowly, looking around at the place I call home.

My bed consists of a wooden pallet covered by a threadbare sheet—Father didn’t want to give me even that, but Samuel managed to convince him eventually. It’s not very large; even though I’m extremely small for my age, I can barely lie down on it comfortably.

The one window is stuck open, letting the cold air find me. To prevent me from flying away, Father installed bars on it a few years ago.

“Hurry up,” he says, interrupting my thoughts. We ascend the stairs as quickly as possible; he walks behind me, making sure I don’t stop. I head for the front door, but he stops me. “That entryway is for humans only. Use the back door.”

I have no choice but to obey him.

Outside, the freezing air takes my breath away. The snow falls quickly, thrown through the air by harsh winds. My old t-shirt and shorts weren’t made for this kind of weather, but they’re the only clothes I own. I wrap my wings around my body in a desperate attempt to stay warm, and then I begin to clear away the drifts, digging into the snow with a heavy shovel. It’s strenuous work; soon my leg hurts worse than ever, and a burning sensation travels up my arms. But I keep telling myself: I won’t complain. This is my punishment for what I am.

If only I could leave! It would be easy—I could fly over the fence, and no one would ever know what happened to me. But I have to protect Samuel. If I were to disappear, Father would start to take his anger out on my brother. And Sam isn’t used to that; he’s always been this family’s golden child. Being mistreated in any way would destroy him.

Forty-five minutes later, my task is complete. So I return to the basement for the rest of the night. I briefly consider stealing more scraps, to stave off the weakness that comes with starvation, but it’s not worth the risk.

My life has always been like this. And, as far as I can tell, it always will be. I’ll stay here, the governor’s shameful secret, until the day he finally goes too far, until he finally kills me.

That day can’t come soon enough.

*

Just before dawn, I wake up to the sound of my parents arguing, something that’s been happening more and more as time has passed.

“Why not set up a few toll booths?” Father asks. “It would be a good way to get more money.”

“It wouldn’t please the townspeople,” my mother replies. “You need to stay on their good side. Anyway, we’d have a lot more money if we didn’t have to care for your little secret in the basement.”

Father is quiet for a moment. “I agree with you there. But we can’t kill it. How would we hide the body?”

They keep discussing the matter, but they begin to talk more quietly, so I can’t hear them. These exchanges are normal at this point; the two of them have gone back and forth about what to do with me for a long time. I don’t understand why my life is apparently so expensive, though. They’ve let me have one set of clothes in three years, and the only reason that I’m still able to wear it is because I stopped growing a while ago.

I move slightly, trying to get comfortable, and the edge of the pallet presses painfully into my arm. I’m practically nothing but pale skin stretched over prominent bones; but then again, as far as I know, I’ve always been like this. Malnutrition has taken its toll, I guess.

Speaking of which, I hate that I’m this small and weak. Even more than I hate my wings. If I could change anything about myself, it would be that.

I fall asleep again, lying on my side with one wing draped over my body as meager protection against the cold. But before long, Mother’s voice wakes me.

“He wants you upstairs immediately. Don’t delay.”

I open my eyes and look at Mother. She’s not as frail as I am, but she’s naturally short and slender; and I inherited her large eyes, though I got the light grey color from Father’s side of the family.

I notice that there’s a large bandage on her wrist, mostly hidden by the sleeve of her dark green blouse. I’m not Father’s only target, despite the fact that she’s human.

“Did he hurt you?” I ask, sitting up and staring at her intently.

“That doesn’t matter. He wants you now,” she repeats.

“Mom, listen to me,” I say. “I really think we could escape and get help. Can’t we try it?”

She glances over her shoulder. “Lower your voice. I can’t escape. And neither can you. Think about it—even if we did get away from the house and into town without him noticing, no one would believe me, with or without evidence. The governor is this town’s figurehead, remember? And as for you? People with wings aren’t exactly commonplace. The authorities would ship you off to some lab. Trust me, your life may be miserable right now, but it’s the best possible outcome.”

I stand up wordlessly and limp towards the staircase. She’s right, I guess. But I still think that there has to be a way out of this. For both of us.

As I near the governor’s office, I tell myself how lucky I was yesterday. I’m pretty sure I have a black eye from when Father punched me, but I can still see, despite the swelling. And nothing is seriously damaged this time; when I was nine, three years ago, he broke my nose, and it’s still a little crooked. As if I needed to be any uglier!

I reach the office and see that the door is slightly open. Maybe this is a good sign. I honestly can’t tell with Father. Trying to ignore my racing heart, I enter. My bare feet sink into the soft carpet. The sensation is a little uncomfortable, since I’m used to standing on cold stone or the hard ground outside.

Father is standing in front of his desk chair. I instinctively look down as he approaches me, but he grabs my chin and forces my head upwards, so that I have to look him in the eye.

“I’ve been very kind to you over these twelve years,” he says. “I haven’t killed you. I’ve given you a decent life. Aren’t you grateful for that?”

Resisting the urge to wrap my wings around my body, a nervous habit that I know Father hates, I reply, “Y-yes, Father. I’m sorry...”

His grip tightens on my face. “I didn’t call you here just to listen to your whining,” he says, his anger evident in his carefully-controlled tone, and in the dangerous gleam of his eyes. “I’ve decided that it’s time for you to become normal—at least somewhat. I can’t do anything about most of your abnormalities, but I can get rid of those wings. Samuel, would you like to do the honors?”

I didn’t even notice that my brother was in the room. His face is as pale as mine always is, and at first, he doesn’t move from the corner he’s been standing in.

“We agreed to this,” Father tells him, an edge of impatience in his voice.

Samuel draws a shuddering breath and steps forward. A chill of fear runs down my spine as I notice what my brother is holding—a butcher knife, the light reflecting off of its serrated blade. I want to protest, to ask him how he could possibly be okay with this, but the words stick in my throat.

No matter how much I dislike my wings, I don’t want to get rid of them. At least, not like this.

Sam moves closer to me; I notice that he’s clutching the knife for all it’s worth, and his entire body is shaking. Maybe there’s still a chance to stop him…

Before I can manage to say anything, his expression hardens, as though someone flipped a switch in his mind. “I need you to remove your shirt,” he says, his voice flat.

I obey him after a moment. The air in this room is cold on my bare skin, but at least now I can spread my wings fully. They don’t weigh much, but now that they’re completely extended, the span is as wide as the desk on the other side of the room. I haven’t been able to do this in so long, and it’s an exhilarating feeling!

My smile fades as I remember why I’m here. This will be the last time.

As Samuel raises the knife, something—I don’t know exactly what—comes over me. I feel too warm, as though I have a fever. But otherwise, I’m not sick at all. Whatever might be wrong with me, it won’t matter in a few seconds; I’ll have much worse problems to worry about.

Samuel stops and looks at me strangely, then adjusts his grip on the knife with new resolve. “Don’t struggle,” he tells me quietly. To himself, he mutters, “It’s just a trick of the light.” I don’t know what he means.

I panic and raise my hands to push my brother away. I’m not going to let him do this.

Suddenly, the room lights up as white-hot flames appear out of nowhere around me. Samuel backs away to avoid the heat, but I’m not burning, even as the fire travels across my arms and chest. It's actually pleasant, in a strange way. Or it would be, if I knew where this came from, or how to turn it off.

“You didn’t tell me you were an elemental!” Father yells. I don’t say anything, but I’m just as confused as he is. He continues, “I knew you were a mutated freak, but I never expected you to be dangerous!”

The flames burn higher as a mixture of anger and fear builds inside me. “I’m—I’m n-not dangerous,” I insist. “I can control this, I swear. Just give me a few minutes…”

But everyone in the room knows that I’m lying. ”I know how to fix this!” Samuel says, reaching for the fire extinguisher on the wall. There’s one in every room of the house; I can’t say whether that’s for safety, or just to keep up the family’s reputation.

He aims it at me, pulls the pin, and squeezes the trigger. A blast of foam extinguishes the flames; as soon as they disappear, I begin to feel exhausted and weak.

I lean against the wall, but my knees are buckling, and my head is spinning. There’s no way I can stay standing for much longer.

The governor grabs a small mirror from his desk and shoves it into my shaking hands. “You’re a monster,” he says. “Look at your eyes!”

My vision is blurring rapidly, but I can still see what my father is talking about. The reflection staring back at me is the same terrified, gaunt creature that I’ve always been—but its eyes have changed from a silver color to a glowing amber.

I finally collapse. As the world goes black, one last thought runs through my head:

At least I didn’t hurt anyone.