Ready?
Amese’s mother, Mirrhana, twisted open the jar and tumbled the orchid bees onto the table. They scattered, heading for the glossy edges. Before falling, the bees veered and marched clockwise around the surface. Their metallic-colored bodies blurred together in a mesmerizing shimmer of colors, increasing in speed until Amese could no longer discern individual bees in the formation.
“The faran chose a lion for me, you know,” said her mother. Dim wall sconces accentuated the shadows under her eyes.
“Yes, Mom. And for Grandfather, too,” said Amese, mouth twisted in a small frown. Supposedly, the bees made their own choices, but Amese planned to persuade them.
Please be a lion. Or another fierce species. Something that will show I’m meant for this.
Within the center of the bees, tendrils of smoke appeared. Some were a deep blue. Others were white or gold. The smoke thickened, obscuring the table and drifting toward the cavernous ceiling.
Gold smoke pulled away from the center and took the shape of an octopus tentacle, which reached out and wrapped playfully around Amese’s hand, each suction cup cold as ice. Goose bumps raced up her arm.
An octopus? That’s not the message I want to send. Let’s try something more intimidating, perhaps?
As if it were listening, the tentacle pulled away to rejoin the smokestack, replaced by a blue form slithering along the table. It opened its mouth, revealing jagged, sharp fangs. Even as Amese realized it was taking the form of a snake, this too lost its shape, swallowed up by the mass of smoke.
Amese turned toward her mother. “When will it decide?”
Once radiant with twinkling eyes and faint smile lines, her mother’s narrow face was now flat and emotionless. She shrugged and observed the shifting form above the table, her lips pursed.
How daring of the faran to make Mother wait like this.
“Perhaps the faran can sense your indecision,” said her mother. “Focus now, Amese. The sooner you complete your training, the sooner you can rule.”
The smoke condensed into a single ball, pulsing up by the rafters. It slipped over a wooden beam, lost from view for a moment. Amese darted up the steps after it.
The ball of smoke shifted, replaced with a dense body that grew broad wings. A slender neck appeared. The thick body sprouted short legs and webbed feet. On its head, an elongated bill emerged, a white strip running from the top of the bill up to the crown and then down the sides of the neck. Underneath the bill, a large pouch hung while dark brown feathers sprouted across the body.
The bird—definitely not a native jungle bird—turned and spread its wings, highlighting its impressive wingspan. The creature took flight and dove directly at Amese, who ducked instinctively. Moments before colliding with her, it veered, then swept upward and circled the gargantuan meeting room. Twice it flew the length of the space, flying close enough to Amese that the air displaced by its powerful wings rushed against her skin, swirling her dark golden hair. On its third circuit of the room, it landed on the chair nearest to Amese.
“What a beautiful pelican,” her mother said.
It doesn’t look very impressive.
“I’ve never seen one,” said Amese.
“I believe you’ll get your first glimpse of the ocean before the day is done.”
Amese examined the pelican, unsure what special knowledge this bird could share. Unsure, really, of what to even do next. Something tickled her fingers. A few bees had abandoned the table and were crawling on her hand.
“Are you ready?” her mother asked.
Not even a little.
Amese nodded.
“Reach out and touch her bill. The bees will create the connection for you.”
Is that all?
“And there’s really no way to know how long it will take before I can come back? Before I’m me again?”
“How long it takes is up to you.” Her mother provided another shrug. “But the longer you are in animal form, the easier it will be to live as that animal.”
“Won’t that help me?”
Sadness blossomed on her mother’s face. “If you make space permanent in here for your animal instincts”—she reached a finger out gently to Amese’s temple—“over time you will forget this life.”
“That’s ridiculous. I could never forget who I am.”
“I hope you don’t. Our village needs help and I’m no longer strong enough to manage alone.”
Blinking back stinging tears, Amese steadied herself. She extended a fingertip to the bird, hand trembling, and touched the majestic bird’s bill. A cool sensation jolted through her body, starting with her palms and spreading through her arms and chest, radiating up to her scalp and down to her toes.
Amese blinked, and the room blurred. Another blink and the now-familiar room faded. As much as she didn’t love what this building meant for her future, heading into the unknown was terrifying. Her body tingled as her vision went dark. She took one unsteady breath. Then another.
The moment passed and the surrounding air transformed, now wet and salty on her tongue. Her vision cleared, spots of bright light shining through the darkness. Amese’s body was entirely different, compact yet powerful.
Every sense reeled as Amese adjusted to the landscape stretching before her. She was perched on the top of a large boulder jutting out of a vast expanse of water, her human form replaced with that of the bird. Fierce waves struck the boulder, pelting her with droplets of water and roaring in her ears. A small strip of land glimmered in the distance, but it might as well be halfway across the world. Getting there safely would be impossible.
With no way back to the village, Amese clung to the boulder with her newly webbed feet and hoped she could fly.
