Destroyed

by Madeline Dyer

“Need protecting. Children. Family. Protect. Protect. Protect. I didn’t protect them.”

  “He’s gone mad.” Corin’s voice is low. “Actually mad.” He touches my shoulder, tentatively. “We need to go.”

  “I—I don’t know.” I look toward Taras, but he’s staring intently at Elf.

  “You don’t know?” Corin stares at me. “Sev, he thinks I killed Keelie. He tried to kill me. We can’t stay here with him.”

  Outside, something shrieks, and Elf jolts, but his eyes remain closed.

  “We cannot leave Untamed,” Taras says. “We cannot afford to. We have to unite.”

  “But he seems…” Jana squishes her lips together for a second, then looks a little sheepish. “You know what I’m saying.”

  “He’s fine now,” Taras says.

  Fine is not a word I’d use to describe Elf. Not when he’s mumbling those same words over and over: Need protecting. Children. Family. Protect. Protect. Protect. I didn’t protect them.

  “This is ridiculous.” Corin throws his hands in the air, then steps toward the door. “Come on. Esther, Sev?”

  Esther’s eyes are wide, then she follows him. They disappear outside.

  “We cannot give up on our people,” Taras says. “We have to work together.”

  Jana wrinkles her nose. Doesn’t say anything.

  The dog’s stopped growling—I notice it for the first time—and he lies down in front of Elf whose arm is still raised, is still pointing at the space where Esther was. He’s still murmuring.

  “I’ll be back,” I say to Taras and Jana, and I give Taras the gun.

  “Bring them back, unite us.” Taras’s eyes implore me.

  “I will.”

  Rain batters me the moment I step out of the shack. Cold, heavy, angry. The sky cracks, sends a flash of light across the darkened horizon. Needles of ice squeeze through my blood, beg me to go back to the hut, but I push myself forward, arms folded over my chest, shoulders hunched. Corin and Esther aren’t far away, their figures battling against the howling wind. The light has dimmed a lot in the time we were inside. Still no sign of the spirits.

  I cross the space quickly. The place where Mila, Elf’s youngest sister, would play with her football is flooded, and I step around it, my legs and arms rapidly going numb.

  “He’s a maniac.” Corin’s roar is only just louder than the storm as I reach them. “Are they coming?” He looks back at the shack. Rahn’s shack. “We are leaving, aren’t we?”

  “Yes, of course.” I shudder. This place feels nothing like Nbutai, and, anyway, we can’t stay here. Taras is wrong. My old village is an obvious place for Raleigh to look for me. If he doesn’t already know we’re here. I think of the augmenter he left outside the Origin Cave, feel tendrils of darkness awakening inside me.

  “Good, we need to go now,” Corin yells.

  I shake my head, and the wind whacks against my face. My eyes sting. “But Elf—”

  “No,” Corin shouts. “Don’t say he’s coming with us.”

  I sigh, and exhaustion hits me. It’s like a tidal wave trying to pull me into looming darkness only I can see. The darkness inside the storm—a place of promised calm, away from the anger, the hostility of the world. “We’ll have to stay the rest of the day here, and the night.” My chest seems to vibrate with the energy it takes to speak loudly enough. “No, Corin—the storm. We can’t travel in that, and this one’s going to last hours. It’s too dangerous for Esther.”

  I look at her, see narrowed eyes and wind-burnt skin.

  But Taras is right—we can’t leave Elf. Not when we’ve just found him. He’s bound to be upset about Keelie. But he’s just confused, thinking it was Corin. He wants someone to blame. It’s only natural. There wasn’t much time between my rescue and the Nbutai attack for him to process it. I wonder how long he’s been sitting here, in Rahn’s hut, alone, all that grief festering. The whole time I was traveling with Corin, Three, Esther, and Rahn—and Kayden and the Marouska-imposter—and when I was with the Zharat, and then at New Kitembu too? I frown. So many months.

  Corin throws his hands up in the air. “So we go back and pretend nothing’s wrong? That he didn’t just try and shoot me? He’s got a gun, Sev.”

  “Taras has the gun now.”

  “That man is still a danger.”

  “That man used to be your friend,” I point out.

  Corin shakes his head. “No, I always got on better with Keelie. I wasn’t friends with him.”

  “Don’t be so petty,” I shout, and the rain pounds harder. I turn my head, try to angle my face away, as if it will help. “He’s one of us.”

  “If we let him join us, one of us will end up dead,” Corin says. “He’ll wait until we’re asleep. He’ll shoot us.”

  “Then one of us will always be on guard.” I squeeze my hands into fists.

  “Until we’re not and he takes his chances.” Corin mirrors my stance.

  I let out an exasperated sigh. “He deserves our help. Corin, he’s been alone for months, traumatized. We owe him help. We have to help each other. It’s what makes us human.”

  Corin grunts. “Fine. But I want the gun.”

  “Okay,” I say. “But we should check the rest of the village too. In case there are other survivors.”

  Esther looks at me sharply. “You think there might be?”

  I press my lips together, don’t answer her because the answer is already around us. But Corin’s not the only one who doesn’t want to go back to the hut, and I tell myself that Elf’s not the real reason we’re searching, delaying our return, because, out of the three of us, I’m the one who’s vouching for him. I glance back several times, check Rahn’s hut for any disturbance. But, really, what am I expecting to see? Blood pouring out? Elf throwing Jana’s body from the doorway?

  No. Looking back at the shack is a distraction from the inevitability of this search. Because doing this ensures there are no more survivors of the raid on our village.

  The lump in my throat gets bigger as we pick our way through the remains of Nbutai. Timber’s scattered everywhere, the jagged bones of our village. Some pieces float in huge pools of water. Stones from the circle around the main hearth in Nbutai’s center are broken, no longer in formation.

  “Most of the stuff’s gone,” Corin says. “Our clothes, belongings, utensils.”

  I think of Marouska’s tin pan, wonder why Elf didn’t collect it.

  “There’s no one else here,” Esther says after a while. The rain has lessened a little, and she steps over a puddle. “No survivors. Only Elf—how do you think he survived?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

  Corin mumbles something under his breath that sounds like maniac, and I pretend I don’t hear it.

  When we step back into Rahn’s hut, Elf’s muttering something in a low voice. He doesn’t look at any of us as we step in—just remains apparently fixated on the floor—and I strain my ears, trying to hear his words, but I can’t. They slip away on silk lines that move too quickly for me to grasp, fueled by the storm. The rain is pounding now, sounds thunderous on the shack’s roof.

  “Empyrean twins.” Taras’s voice makes me jump, and I look over to where he and Jana are sitting.

  “What?” I think of the babies on the cave wall.

  “He’s lost his twin,” Taras says. “The death of one empyrean twin is the death of the other. But the second death always causes the most destruction.”

  Twins of the stars. Every part of me goes cold—and it’s not because of my sodden clothes. No. That’s what Elf and Keelie always called themselves. Twins of the Stars.

  “More destruction, great.” Esther rolls her eyes. “Just what we need.”

  “Then we definitely need to go,” Corin says. “Just leave, come on. Get away from him.”

  “No.” Taras stares at him. “We cannot leave him.”

  “I’m not getting caught up in his destruction.”

  “Corin, we talked ab
out this.” I give him a stern look.

  “So what are we going to do?” Jana asks, and I’m grateful.

  “Stay here until tomorrow morning,” I say, tugging at my sleeve. I want to take these clothes off, but the others are here, and I haven’t got anything to change into anyway. “Then we’ll have to go. All of us. We’ve got to keep moving.”

  “No!” Elf yells, sudden panic in his eyes. “We can’t leave. We can’t. No. No. No.”

  “This is one of the first places Raleigh will look for me,” I say. “He can’t find me. Not again.”

  “Raleigh?” Elf looks blank, confused, lost, and the speed at which his countenance changes makes me feel uneasy.

  “The leader of the Enhanced Ones in this area,” Esther says, then explains it all to Elf, while glancing back at Corin every so often.

  After a while, Elf’s eyes glass over and he starts muttering Enhanced Ones over and over again until thunder rises and swallows his words.

  Jana shuffles toward me. “Is it really safe to stay here, even for this short time?”

  The wind whistles outside.

  “We haven’t got a choice, unless we want to walk through the storm. And these aren’t normal storms.”

  She nods, and we settle down. I grab some blankets from where they’re stacked up on one side of the shack and ask Elf if we can use them. He doesn’t acknowledge my question, and it makes me nervous, but I hand them out all the same, place an extra one at his feet. The blanket he has doesn’t look warm. He ignores the new one, just wraps his long, thin arms around his body as he huddles in the corner.

  Corin, Esther, and I take the far side of the shack, and Jana sits by the door. We sit in silence, and I wait for my clothes to dry. My shorts are lightweight, but the fabric of my shirt is denser, holds onto more water. After a while, Esther closes her eyes. Being able to rest like this feels strange, and, somehow, the sounds of the crashing storm outside are lulling. Especially compared to the bombing drones we listened to through the night.

  The evening draws closer, and Elf gets out a tin. Inside is some dried meat, and he offers us each a piece, wordlessly. I chew it methodically.

  Taras tells us he’ll stay awake through the night and wake one of us later to take over. Corin volunteers for the later shift.

  After a moment of lying down, Corin puts his arm around me. I roll against him, my head on his chest, and try not to think of the last time I lay with him like this—because it wasn’t him. Raleigh stole his image.

  I tense.

  “Are you okay?” Corin whispers.

  I nod and stare at the ceiling, can just make it out. It’s not fully dark in here, but I think it’s the dimmest it will get.

  To the left, Jana rolls over. Her breathing deepens.

  “I don’t think I can sleep,” Corin mutters. “Not when he could still murder us. Taras could doze off and—”

  I shake my head at him. He stops talking.

  I touch my Seer pendant, sure if there was danger, my Seer powers would let me know. They’ve been quiet—as have all the Sarrs inside me—since we arrived here. No, Corin’s wrong. We’re safe.

  But I’m not safe when I close my eyes.

  I am in a land of darkness, and jagged rocks cut my feet. I am running, my heart pounding, running into the ash-laden sky. Ash clings to my skin, and I’m battling through it, blinking, trying to see and—

  Waskabe, the God of Death, rises in front of me. “You cannot escape Death, traitorous one.”

  I scream, duck, twist out of the way. My eyes smart, and I slip, land heavily on sharp rocks. Pain shoots up my arms, and I turn.

  Raleigh looms in front of me, grinning. “Nor can you escape me. Tell me, how did you like my little present?” He laughs. “I will find you. And you will save the Chosen Ones.”

  Elf doesn’t murder us in the night, and, from the moment we get up, Corin almost looks annoyed that he’s been proved wrong. I ignore him, just focus on getting ready to leave because it keeps my mind busy, stops me thinking about the nightmare, about Death, about Raleigh.

  It feels strange that we’ll be leaving Nbutai again—but it’s not Nbutai now. It’s just a flattened village, an echo. The best bits are our memories.

  Corin rolls up the blankets as Taras takes a couple of slices of raw meat out of the hut, over to where the remains of the village’s central hearth are. It’s stopped raining, and I set a small fire there earlier.

  “Is there anything else we can take?” Corin looks around. “Some of that wood, for burning?”

  I shrug. “We need to travel light. Be able to run at a moment’s notice. We won’t get warnings anymore.”

  There’s a heavy silence as we continue packing, wordlessly. Esther doesn’t look good today.

  “Right, well, this is it,” Corin says once everything salvageable has been collected and packed and we’ve finished eating.

  Jana nods, hands on her hips, her gaze raking over everything. When she looks at Esther, tension visibly fills her shoulders, and she looks away, flicking her hair over her shoulder. Even though we’re on the run, she looks impeccable.

  I join Corin, Esther, Jana, and Taras, all of whom are standing to the side of the central hearth. Our bundle of supplies has been divided into five portions. Esther said she’d take one too, but Corin wouldn’t have it. Jana had rolled her eyes at that, said Esther was pregnant, not injured.

  “He knows, doesn’t he?” Esther’s eyelashes cast long shadows across her face. “Elf?”

  The five of us look toward Rahn’s shack. Elf hasn’t emerged. About half an hour ago, Taras took him some meat, left it in there.

  “Is he asleep?” Esther asks. “He didn’t sleep much in the night. Whenever I woke, he was just staring—but not at us. It was like he wasn’t seeing anything. Awake, but not.”

  “I’ll go and see.”

  I make my way to Rahn’s shack, step inside. Corin follows me.

  Elf’s huddled in the corner. His eyes are wide, but kind of expressionless.

  “I’m not going,” he says. “This is my home.”

  “Okay,” Corin says. “That’s no problem. It was…nice to see you again.”

  I shoot Corin a glare before turning to Elf. “No, we have to stay together. All of us. Uniting is the only way to survive.”

  “Well, you go, then.” Elf shrugs. “Find others and unite.”

  “You heard him,” Corin says.

  I turn on him. “Will you stop?”

  “No,” he hisses. “Bringing him is a bad decision. You’d understand if it was you he tried to kill.”

  “He’s coming with us. We all have to join together.” I brush an insect from my arm, then focus back on Corin. “Safety in numbers. Now, more than ever, we have to come together. I thought you understood that?”

  Corin glares past me, at Elf. “I’ve got a bad feeling about him. And that’s ignoring the fact he tried to—”

  “Kill you. Yeah, I know.” I turn my back on Corin and crouch next to Elf, next to the plate with the meat Taras left. A strange smell—like old sweat, but mixed with something else I can’t identify—drifts toward me. “Please, Elf. Come with us.”

  He shakes his head. “You can go, but I’m not.”

  “Elf, we all have to. We can’t leave you.”

  “I can’t leave here, Seven. She won’t know where I am if I go.”

  “Who?” I lean in closer. “Keelie?” The roof of my mouth dries.

  Elf’s eyes narrow, and he shakes his head. His nostrils quiver. “Keelie’s dead. I’m talking about Bea. She likes routine, order. She’ll come back here. I have to stay for when she does.”

  Oh. My chest tightens, and I look to Corin. He holds his hands up and shrugs in a way that tells me I’m on my own.

  “Elf, Bea won’t…” I pause. “If Bea’s up there, she’ll be able to find you, wherever you are… Travel’s not a problem the Lost Souls seem to have—that’s if they are still in this world.”

  Part of
me feels like I shouldn’t have added that last bit, but I had to. I can’t give him false hope. Not when people hold the slightest thing that resembles hope so close to their hearts, and, then, when they find out it’s a lie, it suffocates them.

  Elf jumps up and takes a sudden step back, crashes against the side of the hut. His fingers splay out against the wood, and he makes a gasping sound. “Spirits? Hell, what are you talking about?”

  “He doesn’t know,” Esther whispers, and I turn, see her in the doorway, don’t know how long she’s been there.

  I focus back on Elf, watch as he pales. “Elf? The spirits, some of them are the Lost Souls of our people who didn’t make it to the New World. They’re…my brother’s among them.”

  I picture Three as a raging, angry soul. Someone who wants to get to the New World, to be freed from his pain. I think of how Rahn, in spirit-form, begged me to send him there, to open a channel to the New World. He was disintegrating, unraveling in front of me, darkness taking over because of his pain, his desperation. Pain that made him want to eat me. He thought I could help him. I couldn’t. It made me wonder if that’s why spirits attack us during the Turnings—whether they seek us out because they need help, but they can’t control themselves, end up feeding on us. Maybe they don’t mean to be dangerous.

  Elf touches his head very slowly. His fingers curl, and he scratches his forehead with overgrown nails. Then he lifts his head.

  “Bea’s not dead.” He laughs, and the sound seems to cut the air. “She’s alive. The only one of my sisters who is.”

  Corin steps closer. “Uh, Rahn told us… Elf, you found her body. You and Keelie and—”

  “No!” Elf yanks at his hair so hard I wince. “That’s a lie. That was Rahn trying to control us.” He takes a ragged gulp. “Bea’s out there—alive—I know she is. I told Yani, and he went out looking for her. But I stayed here, because she’s going to come back.”

  “Yani?” Corin exclaims. “Yani’s alive too?”

  “He was,” Elf mutters. “But he’ll be dead now. It’s been too long. He hasn’t got the awareness Bea has.”

  “Did anyone else survive the attack?” I ask, and my heart pounds faster, faster, faster.