Moonlit Scales [rewriting]

Moonlit Scales: Six

M O O N L I T   S C A L E S :
Chapter Six

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I CRINGED AS EACH SNIP of the scissors released another foot of my newly dyed hair, the unusually dark locks limply curling to the forest floor. My hair reached the middle of my back after twenty minutes of working on it, so I was luckily already halfway done.

It was noon. I had sent Phoenix out an hour ago, and he'd returned with a plump hare that would need skinning before I set off tonight. He fetched me a hooded cloak from the house just after, and it would be enough to hide my hair as I grabbed my things and left. It laid crumpled at my feet as I cut off the finishing touches.

Praying the style wouldn't shift back to its original form after my nightly transformation, I snatched the cloak and shrugged it on. Tucking my short black bob under the hood, I was reminded of Ambrose, of last night when I found him in these woods, wearing a similar cape. He had freed me this morning, after Luna had cynically given me the message that he'd save me.

I shook my head at her mysterious antics as I marched back to the barn. Neither of them were my concern now. I had to focus on my upcoming journey, and the precautions I'd have to take. I still missed the scroll, in addition to clothing and weapons. I could wait until it got darker, but I wasn't ready to risk suspicion, and with Papa asleep, swiping the scroll and his garments would be tricky.

Phoenix met me at the entrance of the stable, perching fluidly on my shoulder, his sharp talons hardly a bothersome pressure through the rough fabric of the cloak. He rearranged his feathers, then glanced at me skeptically, waiting for an order.

"Wait here for me," I commanded, satisfying his need for obedience. His wings swept him to the nearest shaft, where he sat with his head tucked to his chest, pink eyes unblinking. I strode out of the barn, sliding the wide, wooden gate closed.

The fall leaves crunched under the weight of my muddy boots as I ambled back to our house. I paused before I stepped inside, checking that every strand of black hair was well concealed, and rearranging my face into a mask of neutrality, like this was any ordinary night.

"Sky!" exclaimed an impatient Addy the second I showed. She clasped her fist around my forearm and dragged me to our bedroom. "We don't have an excuse," she said, flopping onto our mattress.

I glanced over my shoulder. "Where are Piper and Papa?" I asked, noticing she didn't shut the door, the common sign of secrecy.

"Church. Now we have time to get you ready, but only about forty minutes because you were out. By the way, what were—Sky! What happened to your hair?" she gasped, sitting up.

My fingers flew instantly to the ends of my uneven, coarse bob. How had she seen it? "I had to cut it, just like the rules say."

She nodded with understanding, then smiled. "Speaking of . . . I think you might end up looking for this," she proposed, pulling the scroll from behind her back.

My face brightened. "Addison Flora, thank you. Did you take this from Piper's room?" I reached for the parchment, enclosing it in my palm gratefully.

My sister shook her head. "No. Her apron."

I bit my lip. "She might notice it's gone sooner that way."

Addy shrugged. "Which brings us back to my original issue: We need a plan," she pointed out. She was right. Piper had waited up for me. What would happen if I never returned tonight? "Well, I will think about it. In the meantime, pack."

I hiked over to my pillowcase and retrieved my satchel, stuffing the scroll in one of its interior pockets. As Addison mulled over our dilemma, I dashed about the room, to and fro between drawers, tossing them open and disorganizing everything inside, pulling items out at random.

Papa and Piper were on their way home when I finished, repeating the list over and over in my head. Addy jumped up. "I got it! I know what I'm going to say. Now, get out of here. Go, before they see you," she hurried, shoving me to the back porch and throwing me outside. "Good luck," she whispered, before locking me out of my home, something all this time I'd taken for granted and now unsure whether I'd see again.

Shouldering my bag, I turned on my heel and was swallowed by the trees as I followed the worn dirt path leading to the barn. My stomach churned. Was this really the best idea? I was so sure of it this morning, but now as the finality of it came crashing down, I felt tired. I almost understood Piper's measure of stress, why she always looked so weary. I could still go back. I could know I'd be alive, and with my family. I wouldn't lose anything that I loved so dearly. That's not true, said a voice in my head. Papa would still be forced to go, and he had a lesser chance of surviving than I did. Maybe I hadn't said goodbye, but I didn't have to. I would make it out of this. I would.

"Phoenix," I called my bird, and he came swooping out of the window, landing on the edge of the roof's paneling.

"The hare." I approached the barn and Phoenix's morning catch, a soft, brown rabbit, dropped from above in my outstretched hands. I sank my satchel down my shoulder and slipped my dagger from my boot.

After skinning and untying the hare, I wrapped it in one of Papa's shirts that I had stolen, nestling it into my bag. I gestured for my falcon to follow, and he settled comfortably atop my shoulder.

Here started my journey. There was no turning back now. I left the barn with no regrets and no backward glances.