Free A Sliver of Stardust by Marissa Burt

them.
    â€œOur falcons have grown tall,” Jack said, standing in front of his bird, which was now the size of a small pony.
    Wren’s laugh came out quiet at first but then morphed into an uncontrollable giggle. Suddenly, Jack’s words struck her as the funniest thing she’d heard in a long time. “As tall as they should be,” Wren echoed. “See! See! What shall I see?” She unsuccessfully choked back a snort of laughter. “You should see the look on your face!” She laughed harder, wiping at the tears forming in her eyes, and then she was crying, the laughter replaced by difficult-to-hide sobs. What in the world is going on?
    Jack was watching her, his lips curved up in what might be a smile, the skin around his eyes crinkling in a friendly, amused sort of way, but he wasn’t laughing.
    Simon, too, had grown his bird. “Instantaneous adaptation on a huge scale. It’s mind-boggling.”
    â€œIt’s amazing,” Wren said, trying to hide the fact that she was crying. She never cried. “Revolutionary,” she sobbed, like the falcons were the saddest creatures in the world.
    â€œWren?” Simon asked, as if he noticed for the firsttime that she was cycling through every possible emotion on warp speed. “Are you okay?”
    â€œI don’t think so,” Wren said in a wobbly voice. She tried to inhale through her now-congested nose. “I’m laughing. And crying. And I have no idea why. Just give me a minute.”
    She managed a few deep breaths, while Simon turned back to the falcons, making monotone observations on their intelligent eyes, their deadly talons, and the coloring of their feathers. Wren stopped crying, the tears replaced by the irritation burning hot within her. He was such a know-it-all. Besides, why wasn’t Simon more rattled by all of this?
    â€œThey’re beautiful,” he was saying in a worshipful tone.
    â€œHow can you say that?” Wren snapped. “Mutant birds are standing in front of us and you think they’re pretty ?”
    Simon spun around, his face looking confused. Jack took a cautious step toward Wren. Seeing his friendly countenance look so worried evaporated Wren’s anger, and a recklessness swept over her, the wild desire for adventure replacing the fear she felt upon initially seeing the birds. “Let’s ride them,” she said, her heartquickening at the idea. “Let’s do it. Mother Goose rode through the air, right?” She ignored Simon’s openmouthed stare and hurried up to her falcon. “Last one up is a rotten egg.”
    Wren was close to her bird now, and if a falcon could look angry, this one did. It swiveled its head, screeching right into her face, and then spread its wings wide.
    â€œNo! Wait!” Simon yelled. “Don’t go!” But the falcon was gone, barreling up and out above the tree canopy and into the sky.
    Wren watched it get smaller and smaller until it was a black speck on the gray clouds. She turned around and saw Simon staring at her as though he’d never seen her before. A breeze blew through her hair, taking the sense of adventure with it, leaving Wren feeling like her normal unflappable self again. “I have no idea what just happened,” she said in her more normal-sounding voice. “I’m really sorry.”
    â€œDon’t be,” Mary said, coming toward them with her arms full of blankets, several leather contraptions hooked over one shoulder. “It’s your first time working the stardust. It’s not unusual for there to be an emotional response.” She moved on to show Jack how to fasten the saddle, but every so often Wren caught Marygiving her tight, purse-lipped glances.
    Simon needed no help, of course, so Mary drew near and gave Wren’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “The falcon will come back any moment. All will be well.” She patted her own bird, which stood