Eyes Like Twins
Genre: Fantasy
Length: 3,482 words
Publisher & ISBN
JMS Books LLC / 9781611520002
Kimbra was born with golden eyes, a trait believed to belong to a legendary race of winged humans called the aerya. She never really believed the legends, until she stumbles upon the boy with wings.
With wings sprouting from his back, Egan is an anomaly in the human world. For years, he's searched for someone like himself. He's heard the legends and have tracked the aerya in the hopes of finding a place where he belongs. Though Kimbra has no wings of her own, Egan can't deny their eyes are the same.
Together they seek out the aerya's last refuge and discover the fate of those whose eyes reflect the fires burning inside. A fate they, too, will share.
This story appears in the print collection, Bones of the Sea and Other Stories.
Excerpt
As he brushed his hair back, she saw his eyes. He stopped struggling when he saw hers.
His eyes were the color of spun gold, a delicate shade that darkened to a burnished color as he looked at her shoulders and whispered, “Where are your wings?”
Kimbra shrugged. “I don’t have any,” she whispered back. “I’m not an aerya.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “You know of my race?”
Nodding, she admitted, “I never really believed you existed.” She smiled then, hoping he would stop staring at her with such intensity. “I guess I was wrong, eh?”
“But your eyes ...”
Settling back into her chair, she reached for the soup and offered it to him. “I know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. He took a sip of the liquid, cool now, and leaned forward to hear her speak. “All my life I’ve heard those words.” She laughed. “No one ever asked me about wings before, but everyone asks about my eyes.”
He nodded. “I’ve been searching for others like myself. I’ve heard tales of the aerya, I’ve read the texts. But I never found someone who knows anything about them. Maybe you…”
She shook her head. “I know nothing except what the tales say -- a race of winged people. I’ve never seen one before you.”
Suddenly he looked very afraid, lonely and lost. The cup rested forgotten in his lap. “But your eyes,” he said, low. “They’re like mine.”
She nodded. “I don’t know why. You’re the only other person I’ve ever met with golden eyes.”
“You’re sure you’re not an aerya?” he asked, longing in his voice. Her heart clenched to see the hope in his eyes that refused to die, and she hated herself when she nodded.
“I can show you my back,” she offered, reaching for the hem of her dress. “No wings, I’m sorry.”