“Did you get tired again?” Tray asked, keeping his voice soft and gentle. “I told you to lie down. I told you I’d handle it.”
“I’m not tired,” he sniffled weakly. “I’m defeated.”
“Already?” Tray teased, brushing a thumb over his brother’s bruised cheek. Danny turned his cheek into Tray’s hand and closed his eyes. His depression was getting worse, and there was nothing Tray could do for him. He couldn’t bring Corey back and he couldn’t stop Amanda’s episodes. He couldn’t bring Sky back or heal Hawk’s illness. He couldn’t even get the ship in the air. Danny didn’t need talk therapy; he needed something to go right.
“Danny, we’ve barely started fighting,” Tray continued. “Ghost of Boone: 1; Oriana: 0, but this isn’t a one-battle competition. We don’t need Sky. In fact, we’re two tons lighter without her and the ‘sled.”
“Where is Sky?” Saskia asked. “Where’s the ‘sled?”
“The ghost attacked,” Amanda spoke up. She sat on the lower level with Hawk, exhaustion weighing her down. “Attacked you, attacked Sky, attacked Hawk. The drones came. Sky took the ‘sled to escape.”
“Well if the ‘sled made it out, maybe the glider can, too,” Saskia said.
“What good would that do us?” Tray asked. “The glider can’t get us to Quin.”
“But we found that signal,” Saskia said.
“We can’t confirm the source,” Tray reminded her. “What if the drones manufactured it? What if they’re keeping us here?”
“Then we find the other survivors and we fight,” Amanda said.
Saskia raised a finger. “What survivors?”
A blast of hot air hit Liza’s face and she tumbled down the spiral staircase of the bell tower. Her physical momentum nearly sent her flying over the railing, but one of the rails caught her in the midsection, and her body wrapped around it. The wind knocked out of her, Liza held on for dear life.
“Liza!” Kerris cried, his hand grasping her wrist, agitating bruises on her arm as he pulled her to safety. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“No. No, everything’s a mess.” Curling into his arms, Liza nestled against him, desperate to feel safe. She’d jumped between so many minds in the last hour, she couldn’t sort her own memories and motives from the others she’d gleaned. “I don’t feel well.”
Kerris hugged her and separated her from the railings. She felt dizzy as he carried her down the ramp, but she pressed her cheek to his shoulder. His concern bled into her, making her queasy, but the circle of comfort that came from being there for each other strengthened both of them. When they reached their house, he walked around to her window, and set her directly in her bed. Liza laughed, appreciating the gesture. He climbed through the window over top of her, not bothering to kick the dirt off his feet.
“Here you go,” he said, taking a pair of gold worry beads from the ceramic cup on her bedside and placing them in her hands. The beads were a gift from their Dioda caretakers, when they’d been part of that tribe over seven years ago. Liza had trinkets from every tribe they’d flitted through, but those memoirs made Kerris anxious, so she’d hidden most of them in a box under her bed. He knew they helped her feel better, though.
Crawling over her, he went to the kitchen for a cup of water, drinking and pacing the hall, peeking in to see if she’d ask for a drink. Liza closed her eyes, pretending to sleep, fighting the nausea that came from her brother’s nervousness. She fidgeted with the worry beads, a plan forming with the memory of the dragon in Sky’s mind. Sky had seen the survivors, and that gave Liza hope for the family she’d lost.
“I told you not to talk to them,” Kerris finally said, his jaw tight as he loitered at her door.
“It hurts me when Amanda cuts herself,” Liza said, curling into a ball, too weak to fend off his attack.
“Excuses, excuses,” he smirked. She could feel that he wanted to berate her, but he took pity, and he sat on the bed, stroking her hair from her face. “I was so worried. I thought you’d killed them. Or they killed you. I thought I was alone.”
“What do you mean?” Liza asked, running her thumb over the inlaid knot carved into her beads. They’d once been painted bright blue with gold, but only flecks of the paint remained and the wood was barely stained. It was smooth with oil from constant handling.
“I felt the wave. The energy ripple through the Spirit Realm,” Kerris said. “I felt—”
“Sky carries a spirit,” Liza remembered. The toxic air filled her memory for a moment, but she could compartmentalize the choking feel now that she knew its source.
“Sky is a hybrid?” Kerris asked, his eyes twitching in fear.
“No. She is two beings,” Liza reasoned. The old woman—that piece was Sky. “The spirit dragon tortures her.”
“Did the dragon hurt you?” Kerris asked, touching her arm. She hissed at the pressure on her bruises, and wondered again at their source. Maybe when she’d been falling.
Liza shook her head, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Hawk, the one we’ve been calling Red, he moved me. I was at the top of the bell tower with Sky, then I was on the street.”
“He can teleport?” Kerris asked, guiding her into the kitchen, putting a cup in her hand and making her drink the water. “We must have forced his hand, getting him to reveal himself like that. He’s never even shown a glimmer of hybrid power.”
As Liza drank, the water rinsed away the lingering sting of the toxic air in Sky’s bubble and she sighed in relief. When she finished, she ladled more water from their bucket.
“He shows his power every day,” Liza said quietly. She’d ignored the nagging feeling for days now, but it began making sense. “Every time he brings a dead droid back to life, he uses spirit energy. But the teleporting is new.”
“That must have been the energy I felt,” Kerris realized, crowding closer to Liza. “Because when I went to check on you, you were already down there with him. And then… and then… you disappeared.”
“I what?” Liza asked, nearly spitting her drink at him.
“He must have pushed you hard,” Kerris said, fingering her cheek. His eyes were red-rimmed and welling with tears. “You’ve been gone for hours. I was so scared.”
Liza furrowed her brow, processing his stress over his words. “They’re less scary than I thought,” she said. “The spirit dragon is terrifying, but I wasn’t trapped by it. I don’t think Hawk knows he’s a hybrid.”
“All the more reason to avoid him,” Kerris said sternly. “You’ve practiced your power, and you still wreak havoc.”
“It’s not my fault,” Liza snapped, pushing him away, jumping out of the bed. It was a knee-jerk reaction. Liza carried so much guilt for the death of their parents, and she knew Kerris blamed her.
“Unintentionally,” he amended, gathering pots and utensils to prepare food. A warm meal was a reasonable apology in her book. They’d been moderating their cooking since the ship arrived.
“Sky sees the survivors. She sees… hope. I think there’s hope,” Liza said, choosing her words carefully. They could retrace their steps and undo the havoc he was referring to, but she didn’t want to get his hopes up too soon.
“I need to talk to Sky again,” Liza said, her mind racing.
“She’s gone.”
“What!” Liza swept the Spirit Realm, but Kerris blocked her.
“Liza, stay out of their heads!” Kerris cried.
“What do you mean gone?” she asked, going to the kitchen. Her stomach growled, but the thought of eating made her feel ill.
“She flew off in her pod more than an hour ago,” Kerris said. “Are you hungry?”
Dead crows hung by their feet over the sink. Kerris had caught the birds last week. He just reached in the sky and pulled them down. Hunting was easy for him. Preparing the birds to eat was a task he preferred Liza to do, even though they’d both learned how when they were part of the Dioda.
“I can’t eat,” Liza said, clutchi
ng her stomach. She didn’t have to reach far to home in on Hawk, especially now that she knew the overwhelming sickness came from him. “It’s Hawk. He’s sick. Do you think I can heal him?”
“Heal him?” Kerris scoffed. “Liza, I don’t care if he’s like us! You can’t expose him to his crew without his permission. He confronted you in private.”
“I could make him forget me.”
“No! We promised each other we’d stop experimenting with memory erasure.”
“I don’t recall that conversation,” she teased.
“Liza, please,” he panted, his face turning green. “You can’t get into their heads. This is how you killed—”
“I didn’t kill anyone!” Liza exploded, stomping out of the kitchen. “Kerris, I am not a killer! We are not war machines. You’ve always said so, and yet you treat me like I’m dangerous. I made a mistake before, thinking Amanda was the hybrid. When I tried talking to her, it just made her a crazy. But the fact that I could talk to her means she’s seen our kind before,” Liza continued. “Hawk—just like you said—he’s concealed his powers well. He can teach us how to live among people without getting ourselves in trouble. He’s doing it right now!”
Kerris rubbed his face, then went to the kitchen, taking the birds down. “Liza, he pushed you so hard, you disappeared into the Spirit Realm for two hours.”
“What if it wasn’t him?” Liza asked, flopping on the couch. “What if that’s my power.”
“No,” Kerris said. “You’ve never done anything like that before.”
“Haven’t I? When they first came?” Liza realized. “You couldn’t find me, and I woke up in the bell tower. Just now, when I reappeared, I came back to the bell tower.”
Kerris sniffled, and Liza knew he was looking at his tattoo. She recognized the sadness, and the way the kitchen pots rattled with his grief. Rushing to him, Liza gave him a hug, mentally shielding his pain to keep the house from shaking.
“Don’t be scared, Kerris,” she whispered, hanging on his back playfully. He dropped to his knees and Liza folded over him protectively. “Our powers could be changing—”
“I don’t want them to!” he cried. “Liza, you’re right. It’s not the first time you’ve disappeared into the other realm. Not the first time I couldn’t find you. It happened a few months ago, when we first came back. I couldn’t find you for days. I thought the Gavameti killed you, and I’d just blocked out the memory. Every time you disappear, that’s my first thought—that you never came back with me. That you’re never coming back.”
A sour lump formed in her throat. “I’m not dead,” she whispered over and over. “I’m here for you Kerris. I always will be. Disappearing is just something I do now.”
“Or you are dead, and I’m carrying a piece of you,” Kerris whispered.
“A piece that annoys you to no end,” she said, kissing his cheek. That got a small laugh from him, but it bothered her to know the pain he hid. “I love you Kerris.”
He bowed his head, letting go of his emotions. They seemed to radiate physically from his body. The rain started as his tears fell, and though it felt like he’d caused the rain, Liza knew it wasn’t so. He’d messed up the weather last week when he’d moved those clouds to stop Oriana from crashing through the gate. The rain had been a long time coming. When all the buildings on the street started to shake with his sobs, Liza knew that was him. The city quaked with her brother’s pain.
16
The rain started shortly after Sky left. Danny sat on the counter in the infirmary, gingerly rubbing his bruised chest, praying his Virp would light up with a message from Sky. His body ached from the tumble down the stairs, and with their supply of medication nearly depleted, Tray handed him a canteen full of apple wine for the pain. The weird apples that grew in Fox Run fermented themselves when juiced. The alcohol content was low and the taste bitter.
With a Virclutch in hand, he alternately scanned for a signal from inside the city, scanned for Sky, and listened to the static Saskia had recorded last week before they crashed. He didn’t hear the ‘music’ in it, but the hope that the signal might be something familiar was enough to calm him for now.
“Another one!” Hawk cried, convulsing on the center bed, letting out an apple-fragranced belch. A fraction of a second later, the walls of the ship rattled. Hawk had a sixth sense for the oncoming tremors, which was far more effective than using the ship’s sensors. They’d shut down as much as they could to conserve battery power. With rain clouds blocking the sun, the solar cells were useless. They had only a day’s worth of power in battery stores.
“This isn’t a burn like I got, and it’s not the grav-gun,” Saskia said, checking the wound on Hawk’s shoulder. Hawk’s face was damp with mucus, tears, and sweat. Saskia looked as strong and healthy as ever, and she was the only one not surprised by her condition.
“You were hit with a stunner blast,” Saskia realized. “Did Sky have a stunner?”
“You did,” Hawk whispered.
“I shot you?” Saskia asked, rubbing her head. “I lost a lot more than a few conversations.”
“I don’t even know how you were standing. I don’t know how you’re standing now!” Danny remarked. “I gave you a tranq. You should still be out.”
Saskia frowned and pulled up a stool to sit on.
“The ghost moved her,” Hawk croaked. “It came after Sky.”
“Well, that settles it,” Tray mumbled. “Point goes to Ghost of Boone.”
Tray sat in the corner, almost hiding under the infirmary’s second bed, tucked out of the way of foot traffic, his bloodshot eyes speaking volumes to his guilt.
“You’re not keeping track, are you?” Danny asked.
“I want to win,” Tray scowled. “Will you stop listening to that static? There’s nothing there. Every time I think I’ve found something in that noise, it dissolves. It’s a distraction, and it’s only going to delay our leaving.”
“Stop kicking yourself for screwing up and figure out how to fix it,” Danny retorted, regretting the words the moment they fell from his lips. “I’m not saying it’s your fault.”
“Then I’ll say it,” Tray said. “I screwed up. I burned up all our fuel. I’m sure Sky taking off in the ‘sled is somehow my fault, too.”
“No,” Hawk said, rolling onto his side. “She had to leave. The ghost tried to kill her.”
“Did she have to leave without us?” Tray asked. The walls of the ship rattled again. “Missed that one, Hawk.”
“I was talking,” Hawk retorted, his nose wrinkling. “The ghost is angry that I helped her get away. That’s why she shot me.”
“I thought Saskia shot you,” Tray said.
“Unless we can talk to, interact with, and negotiate with this ghost for our release, I say we stick to the problems we can see,” Danny interrupted. “Saskia and I can figure out what went wrong with the ship. Tray and Hawk, you’re going to acquire and scrap as many drones as it takes until you can build a transmitter powerful enough to contact Terrana.”
“Hawk and I can take the glider up as soon as the rain stops,” Saskia suggested, “We probably can’t make it run more than twenty minutes, but that should be long enough to find Quin and direct a message there. It would be safer than letting Terrana know we’re alive.”
“Assuming the drones let you take off,” Tray muttered. Danny shot him a look, but Tray was too wrapped in his own self-hatred to notice. As much as Danny hated to admit it, Tray was right.
“Amanda and I will shoot them down. Captain, you and Hawk fly. Tray will be analyzing signal from the ward room,” Saskia said. “The drones are no longer our biggest obstacle. The temperature outside just passed 110.”
“In the rain?” Danny asked. “How is it that hot and raining?”
“The ghost brings the rain,” Hawk said.
“The ghost can’t take credit for everything,” Danny said. “And as much as I miss having Sky’s help, we were wrong to be so completely d
ependent on her. We knew she was a flight risk from the start. We still have the glider. We still have every resource in Boone.”
“And these survivors we’ve failed to find,” Saskia commented.
“We still have enough fuel to keep Oriana running as a shelter,” Danny continued.
“The glider doesn’t have more than a few trips left in it,” Tray said. “We can take it up two, maybe three times.”
“Once,” Hawk said. “There’s one flight left, at best. It’s not the fuel; it’s the parts. That’s why I stopped flying when we were on the beach. Metal fatigue. It’s not safe anymore.”
Tray closed his eyes and buried his face in his knees. Danny was ready to crawl under that bed next to him and shut out the world. The lights in the infirmary flickered, then went out. An explosion of thunder followed, shaking the walls of the ship.
“What was that?” Hawk cried, clamoring from the bed for cover. When the emergency lights didn’t come on, Danny flipped on his Virp light.
“Nothing,” Tray sighed, rigging his Virclutch to be a lantern. “Just the electrics going out. So much for habitable shelter.”
“Another drone attack?” Saskia asked.
“Only one hit,” Tray observed. “Could’ve been lightning. Could’ve overheated, even.”
“Did the solar panels get stowed before the rain started?” Danny asked, bumping his head against the cabinets behind him.
“Not unless you stowed them,” Saskia said, rolling her eyes. “We weren’t expecting rain and we needed electric to keep this room at a balmy… 76 degrees.”
“We knew the rain was coming,” Hawk said. “Sky knew.”
“We still have a few liters of fuel,” Tray said. “We can run air circulators on that power, right?”
“The fuel is ignited, mixed, and distributed with electrical systems,” Danny said. “So those systems will be down, too.”
“Sea’iqa: 1,” Tray commented.
Danny burst out laughing, the mirth bringing such relief, he wanted to hug his brother. “Sea’iqa, the spirit of lightning? I thought you didn’t read Aquian mythology.”
Hybrid: A Space Opera Adventure Series (The New Dawn Book 4) Page 14
