Between by Megan Whitmer

jewel-toned flowers appear throughout, twinkling like stars on the ocean’s surface.
    It’s breathtaking.
    I hike through the grass and stop near the middle, turning in a circle. The map showed at least four gates out here, but I don’t see a single one. Crap. I should’ve known I wouldn’t be able to find them that easily.
    I flop down right there next to a growth of wildflowers. The velvety flowers are scented with a mixture of vanilla, honey, and cinnamon—sweet enough that I’m seriously pondering their taste. A breeze ripples through the grass, and a faint tinkling noise floats in the air. I dip my head closer and realize the sound is coming from the field itself.
    I stretch out on the ground, enveloped by the tall grass, and close my eyes while I listen. The wind continues to blow over me, creating a symphony of notes that crescendo and decrescendo as the breeze comes and goes.
    The fields are literally alive with the sound of music.
    Sam would ducking love this.
    Something thumps in the distance, interrupting the serenade, and I open my eyes. What is that? Drums? I sit up, leaning on my hands, and stare across the field. The thumping sound grows louder, completely unaffected by the wind.
    Whatever it is, it’s coming closer.
    I keep my eyes open and try to pinpoint the source of the noise. Soon, I spot the outline of a large bird in the sky above the trees. Each flap of its impressive wings results in a whooshing thud.
    I remain still, mesmerized. As the bird draws nearer, I make out the head of a woman with dark, matted hair attached to the body of a hawk. Her gnarled red lips are twisted with rage, and her piercing black eyes are fixed on me with a menacing glare.
    Oh, sheet .
    My lungs fill with air and stop. I shove myself up from the ground, landing in a sprint toward the edge of the field. I throw one foot in front of the other and look back over my shoulder.
    She’s still there, growing closer and closer, flying right at me. Pain pierces my chest with each breath. The grass whips against my shins as I lift my legs higher and higher to get back toward the woods or the path or anywhere at all besides this ridiculous vacant field.
    Seth told me to wait in my room for him or Alexander to come get me. I should’ve listened. What happens if this thing catches up to me? Nobody knows where I am.
    I can’t think about that now.
    Run .
    My legs are shaking so violently I hardly feel the ground beneath my feet. I make the mistake of looking back again, and her eyes lock with mine.
    I think my heart may actually stop.
    My toe rams against something, and I’m falling. My knees hit the ground, then my hands, and I’m facedown in the grass, trembling to the point that I can’t make my body do what I want.
    She’s getting closer. Air whooshes against my skin each time her enormous wings flap up and down. The biting odor of mildew and decay encloses me, choking out the sugary scent of the field. I try not to inhale, but my lungs are burning. I breathe in and the foul air tastes bitter on my tongue. Every breath tastes stronger.
    She’s practically on top of me.
    Move!
    I press my hands to the ground and push myself upward as she swoops down with her long black talons extended. I roll out of the way, and an enraged screech sounds next to my head.
    The world goes mute, silenced by the ringing in my ears. I’m up and running again, propelled through the air by sheer terror. I dart into the trees, zigzagging around the large, wide trunks of the elms.
    Something digs beneath my arms and lifts me into the air. She’s got me.
    “No!” The ringing in my ears is replaced by my own screams. I twist my body and fling my legs back and forth, fighting to free myself.
    “Stop it, you idiot, you’re slowing me down!”
    The voice beside my ear sounds strangely familiar. I freeze and turn my head enough to see Clara’s flawlessly sculpted profile.
    “Duck!” she says, zooming toward the largest of the willow