Chapter 7: Clipped Wings – Harpy

I found my partner on the roof’s edge again.

We had gotten an apartment near the top of the building for this explicit purpose. Flyers always wanted a direct route to the skies. 

Thunder boomed as I pushed open the heavy door against the pouring rain and exited the stairwell onto the concrete expanse, no longer littered with cigarette butts and aged wrappers. She was exactly where I thought she would be, straddling the railing as she leaned precariously into the wind. 

The downpour plastered her short hair to her skin, though the tight fabric of her flight suit needed no help in that regard. Green and gold, marked with the symbol of a box with wings. I hadn’t seen her don it in a while. I couldn’t lie—that worried me.

She shifted her position, her sharp claws gripping the rain slicked metal with ease. My heart raced as she lifted her arms and the wings that sprouted from them. Wings that no longer held the majestic plumage they had only a year before. They rubbed against her face, and adjusted the silver banded flight goggles her old company had gifted her with. 

A reward for excellence in service to the company, a cold comfort now. 

We talked about her old job frequently. As a courier, she had stories that ranged from her interactions with citizens to the coworkers who gossiped and showed off tricks. Stories of faces as she landed on balconies, railings or sometimes upside down if she really wanted to show off. 

But her favorite was one she had told me repeatedly. One of a little girl who thought she worked for Santa. How she would describe that little girl’s expression as she pulled presents from her bag. How the parents had to stop themselves from laughing, as the girl listened wide-eyed to stories about the North Pole. 

It had made her late for the next delivery, but it had been worth it. Not that her boss agreed with her.

One story we never discussed was her dismissal, nor about the storm that raged that day.   

I moved forward and splashed through puddles as I did so. She didn’t turn, but I knew she heard me. Harpy senses had to be sharp, so they could maneuver in a way ground bound humans didn’t. A fact she delighted in reminding me of—frequently. 

Not that I minded.

I shivered as I moved next to her and looked out over the city. Lights bloomed all around us, and I watched with a silent fascination. What were they doing? Would they worry if they could see us?

My mind threw up images of her flying through the city. Her lithe form twisting as she dodged billboards, flyers and buildings. The people in those lit windows were oblivious to her presence, all except one who would stop to stare—jealous. 

It was a desire that overwhelmed me occasionally. To see the city from such a unique vantage point. 

Feathers brushed against my nose as she swayed to close, and I let out an involuntary sneeze. That got her attention. Her eyes snapped open, and she glared down at me. 

“What are you doing here?”

I shrugged and gave her a brief smile before I turned my gaze to the city. “Enjoying the view.” 

She huffed, and I heard the rustling of feathers. 

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“It’s raining.” Another burst of rustling. “You’ll catch a cold.” 

“Says the girl sitting on a railing in the middle of a storm.” 

“Harpys’ have—”

“More resistance to weather. I know.” 

I gave a small wave as I cut her off. “You’ve mentioned. Doesn’t explain why you’re here now.” 

We both knew, of course. It wasn’t exactly hard to guess. We never talked about the storm. Her friends had tempted me to ask, of course. To push my way towards those answers, but each time I saw the missing feathers, I couldn’t force the words. 

I side eyed her as she went back to her closed eyed swaying. Rain dripped down her body, and when the thunder boomed again, I could see it. The shiver—not from the weather. I knew I should pretend I hadn’t seen it and stay by her side like this. 

Instead, I took a risk. 

My hand found her wings, and I clutched it with care. The reaction was unexpected. Tears mingled with rain as she leaned closer, her other wing spreading out as far as it could go. With delicate movements, I stood behind her and grasped her waist, and her other wing spread out as well. 

Then she bent into her flying pose and leaned forward, further than she ever had before.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that. I could feel each of the miniscule shifts in her muscles now, as she swayed through winds only she could feel. As I closed my eyes, I could imagine her carrying me through the sky. Her face displayed that smile I had only seen once as we danced and tumbled through the air.

My daydream broke at the sounds of her sobs, and I pulled her back. Talons went loose, as she came away from the edge, and into my arms. She continued to sob, audible to me even over the boom and crash of the angry sky. 

The intensity of the rain increased, and with careful steps, I led her back into what little shelter the stairs provided. I doubt we’d disturb the other residents, not with the howl of the wind that surrounded us. 

As her sobs died down, I considered what to say. One thing came to mind, and I wasn’t proud of it. But no better ideas came, so I breathed out the words into her ear.  

“Are you alright?”

I knew the answer I’d receive, something flippant, as per usual. Though maybe dismissive? I readied a few retorts, so I’d have something. 

Instead, I got something else.

A tired voice filled with pain that told me that last story.

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