Read Online Night Vision by Yasmine Galenorn - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Yasmine Galenorn
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sucking in a deep breath, I spread my arms and legs wide, captured my courage, and toppled forward, into free fall.
There’s something exhilarating about free fall, about watching the ground rush up to greet you. The rush of wind through the hair, the sudden plunge as you barrel toward the ground and then…and then…and then the shift…
My body began to morph, fingers to feathers, arms to wings, legs to taloned feet, shrinking in mass, transforming into a being so alien to myself and yet so familiar.
My Cambyra nature was that of a barred owl, and though I had yet to see myself in a mirror, at one point when we weren’t on the run from Myst, Rhiannon had taken a picture of me in owl form so I could see what I looked like. As I had held the photograph, staring at the image, it struck me so odd that the creature in the picture was me. And yet so utterly familiar, even after such a short time.
In the picture, I was poised on a branch, my wings outstretched. My talons curved over the limb. My wings and tail feathers were a study in shades of grayish brown, striped with white, and my head and body, a blending of the two colors, interspersed almost as if I were a tortie cat. My yellow beak was the only pop of color on my body.
Now, those wings were standing me in good stead. I’d had to train them when I first began to shift…or perhaps,
adapt to using them
would be a better way to phrase it.
With a satisfied sigh, I caught the updraft and—Ulean laughing in glee beside me—swept up, buoyed on the currents in her wake. I spiraled, turning, twisting, rising to the top of the tree where I could survey the pale dawn.
The air swept past me as I glided, my wings riding steadily on the breeze. A rumble in my stomach told me I was hungry, but I reined in my desire to hunt. Mice didn’t set well in my stomach, nor did rabbits, and as good as the warm blood and fur felt going down, it felt equally bad coming back up when I was back in my regular form.
I circled higher, almost dizzy with the joy of no longer being soil-bound. After making several laps over the tops of the trees, I straightened and headed toward the deeper part of the forest, intoxicated by the freedom. Ulean was beside me, catching my mood, shrieking with laughter as she slipped beneath me, causing me to rise even farther. I responded, going into a nosedive, pulling up as she rushed in front of me. She leapfrogged behind me, and I made another dive beneath her wake. I couldn’t see Ulean, not unless I was dreamwalking with Kaylin, or when I was in the grips of the winds. But I could feel her, sense her presence, hear her on the slipstream.
We played tag, turning, wheeling through the air, caught up in the freedom that only flight can bring. In the past few weeks, the most precious thing in my life had gone from being my Pontiac GTO to discovering my ability to shift into an owl.
As much as I loved Grieve, as thrilled as I was to meet my father after all these years, nothing could quite compare with the rush and freedom of turning into an owl, of escaping the earth and leaving all my problems behind, even if it was for only a little while. I’d never before had anything remotely resembling the freedom that shifting shape brought to me. There were times when I enjoyed the change so much, when it felt so natural, that I wanted to just stay that way—fly off and never look back—but I couldn’t do that.
As the sun rose, here in the realm of Summer, I regretfully turned back to the tree where I’d shifted. Another few moments and it came into view. There was Check, standing below, waiting at attention. I screeched loudly, then slowly circled lower, taking care not to buzz him, until I landed on a fallen trunk nearby. As I began to shift back, I slipped, nosediving for the ground. I still hadn’t mastered a graceful return to myself—Check bounded forward and caught me, his arms lifting me before I could hit the ground.
Before I could say thank you, he
There’s something exhilarating about free fall, about watching the ground rush up to greet you. The rush of wind through the hair, the sudden plunge as you barrel toward the ground and then…and then…and then the shift…
My body began to morph, fingers to feathers, arms to wings, legs to taloned feet, shrinking in mass, transforming into a being so alien to myself and yet so familiar.
My Cambyra nature was that of a barred owl, and though I had yet to see myself in a mirror, at one point when we weren’t on the run from Myst, Rhiannon had taken a picture of me in owl form so I could see what I looked like. As I had held the photograph, staring at the image, it struck me so odd that the creature in the picture was me. And yet so utterly familiar, even after such a short time.
In the picture, I was poised on a branch, my wings outstretched. My talons curved over the limb. My wings and tail feathers were a study in shades of grayish brown, striped with white, and my head and body, a blending of the two colors, interspersed almost as if I were a tortie cat. My yellow beak was the only pop of color on my body.
Now, those wings were standing me in good stead. I’d had to train them when I first began to shift…or perhaps,
adapt to using them
would be a better way to phrase it.
With a satisfied sigh, I caught the updraft and—Ulean laughing in glee beside me—swept up, buoyed on the currents in her wake. I spiraled, turning, twisting, rising to the top of the tree where I could survey the pale dawn.
The air swept past me as I glided, my wings riding steadily on the breeze. A rumble in my stomach told me I was hungry, but I reined in my desire to hunt. Mice didn’t set well in my stomach, nor did rabbits, and as good as the warm blood and fur felt going down, it felt equally bad coming back up when I was back in my regular form.
I circled higher, almost dizzy with the joy of no longer being soil-bound. After making several laps over the tops of the trees, I straightened and headed toward the deeper part of the forest, intoxicated by the freedom. Ulean was beside me, catching my mood, shrieking with laughter as she slipped beneath me, causing me to rise even farther. I responded, going into a nosedive, pulling up as she rushed in front of me. She leapfrogged behind me, and I made another dive beneath her wake. I couldn’t see Ulean, not unless I was dreamwalking with Kaylin, or when I was in the grips of the winds. But I could feel her, sense her presence, hear her on the slipstream.
We played tag, turning, wheeling through the air, caught up in the freedom that only flight can bring. In the past few weeks, the most precious thing in my life had gone from being my Pontiac GTO to discovering my ability to shift into an owl.
As much as I loved Grieve, as thrilled as I was to meet my father after all these years, nothing could quite compare with the rush and freedom of turning into an owl, of escaping the earth and leaving all my problems behind, even if it was for only a little while. I’d never before had anything remotely resembling the freedom that shifting shape brought to me. There were times when I enjoyed the change so much, when it felt so natural, that I wanted to just stay that way—fly off and never look back—but I couldn’t do that.
As the sun rose, here in the realm of Summer, I regretfully turned back to the tree where I’d shifted. Another few moments and it came into view. There was Check, standing below, waiting at attention. I screeched loudly, then slowly circled lower, taking care not to buzz him, until I landed on a fallen trunk nearby. As I began to shift back, I slipped, nosediving for the ground. I still hadn’t mastered a graceful return to myself—Check bounded forward and caught me, his arms lifting me before I could hit the ground.
Before I could say thank you, he
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