From Sky to Sky

by Amanda G. Stevens

  “Oh!”

  Zac jolted at the voice. Someone had claimed his spot. The early hour had left her in shadows. He’d nearly stepped on her.

  “Sorry.” He backed into a tree and let it brace him, hoping the gray light concealed his weakness. “Didn’t see you.”

  The woman raised her face to him. Cady. Of course. Early riser like him, exertion junkie like him, burdened like him though with different burdens. So they sought relief in the same place.

  They were staring at each other.

  She’d gotten here first. For now the spot was hers. He nodded and turned away, swallowing a bitter taste in his throat at the thwarting. He’d head back and stop one dune lower than this one. God would hear him there as well as here.

  He was a few paces from the dip of the incline when Cady’s voice came, soft and unsure.

  “There’s room.”

  He turned back. She motioned to the space beside her. Like him, she didn’t care to sit on the bench. He couldn’t explain why that mattered, why it prompted him to approach. He lowered himself to sit in the sand a few feet from where she did, her legs stretched in front of her, her back against one of the cottonwoods.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “You don’t look like you could make the trek down yet.”

  That’s why she’d offered? He looked away over the lower dunes and found the merging of water and horizon. He wouldn’t make her talk.

  “You must have a pressing urge to be up here. Or you’re a masochist.”

  Wait. She did want to talk? He met her eyes. They held a depth of raw vulnerability he never would have trespassed on if he’d recognized her sooner. He drew a careful breath and, as he let it out, put away the mask.

  “Simon says people are my oxygen. Which is true, if I stop and think about it, but sometimes I have to get away to breathe.”

  “Of course.”

  He could leave it there. Maybe he ought to. “Other people’s aches soak into me. Accumulate, sometimes.”

  She studied him as if they’d met this morning, here in the sand before the dawn. “I can’t say I’ve ever felt anything like that.”

  “It’s been called extra empathy.” He thought of Moira in a flash of soft hair, smooth skin, and words like fishhooks.

  “An Elderfolk gift,” Cady said.

  “Some mortals have it.”

  “Probably not like yours though, developed for so many years. You might be the strongest empath in history.”

  He shrugged. He’d never thought about it.

  A minute passed in which she seemed content with the quiet, but one question allowed another. “I thought you’d be halfway to Missouri.”

  “I couldn’t stand the thought of all those hours in a car, not—not with all this in my head. I told Finn I needed the morning to breathe out here. To watch the sunrise.”

  “Yeah. I get that.”

  “After this we’ll leave.”

  For a long time then, Cady was quiet. They sat together under the trees and listened to the rasping whispers of the leaves. The pink glow crept toward orange and then yellow, true daylight though shy of itself, the canopy above them still mostly gray. Cady stretched her back and drew up her knees. Zac rested, leaning against a trunk with enough width to brace his shoulders.

  It wasn’t the same as solitude. He never ceased to sense Cady beside him, still and silent though she was. But his chest began to open nonetheless.

  “Zac.”

  “Hmm.”

  “I think I understand what you did, why you did it. Advocating for her.”

  He turned his head and met her eyes. “I bungled that.”

  “Because it didn’t work? You weren’t the only factor involved.”

  “Because in my head, I was advocating for all of you. But I couldn’t keep the balance of it.”

  She rested her chin on her knees and let the silence settle again. At last she said, “Finn told me about her. His words were, ‘Something inside her is all wrenched apart.’”

  “He’s right.”

  “But he said, if his brain can heal, why not her mind?”

  “I hope he’s right about that too.”

  “And you’re going to be there for her.”

  Zac nodded. “We’re all she’s got.”

  “Not me. I can’t be, Zac. Can you understand that?”

  He tried to. If Rachel had offered the cure to David first, and the man had accepted it. If Simon had too, and Moira. If the ones he held closest in the world had chosen this risk. And died.

  “She wasn’t glad we came after her,” he said. “She still isn’t.”

  Cady looked up. “So you’re asking me to be.”

  “No.” He rubbed the back of his hand over his tired eyes. “There I go again, trying to advocate.”

  “Then you’re not going to …?”

  “What?”

  “Call me a bitter old hag.”

  “No,” Zac said. “You’re hurt.”

  “I’m not hurt. I’m raging. There’s a difference.”

  “There is.”

  Her lips parted. “You can feel …?”

  He nodded. Something between them seemed to writhe and try to hide. “Cady.”

  She flinched.

  “I’m praying for you.”

  “That I’ll forgive her?”

  “For you. That He’ll comfort you and heal you.” That one day she would be able to extend grace to Rachel—of course, he had to pray for that too, for both their sakes. But today wasn’t the day to tell her.

  “And since when do you pray?”

  The question should have made him self-conscious, but the settled sense inside him was too complete for such a petty thing. With the tree firm at his back and his Father’s hand firm around him—as it had never ceased to be—Zac sighed. “Since I spent a night trapped under a bunch of barn wood.”

  She was quiet a minute, then said, “I’m glad, Zac.”

  “It’s good to be home.”

  “So this is a return, not a first-time arrival?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m really glad.” She turned toward him, and light found her hair and danced in it. “I need to go home too, you know. Missouri, I mean. I need to face what’s there.”

  He nodded. They sat together awhile, and morning inched up the horizon.

  At last Cady pushed to her feet. “I’ve been up here at least an hour. I’ll leave you to your getting away.”

  “If you want.”

  He stood too, gripping the tree for support until he was more or less upright. Cady jogged in place for half a minute, stretched her legs, and eyed the steep dune with anticipation.

  “I ran most of the way up here.”

  He saluted her. “I did not.”

  The hint of a smile. “Goodbye for now.”

  “Don’t disappear.”

  “We won’t,” she said. “I won’t.”

  She seemed about to say more, but instead she turned away from him. She bounded away down the long hill as sand sprayed up from her heels with every stride. She grew smaller and smaller and disappeared over the edge of the next slope.

  For now, she’d said.

  Zac took off his shoes and padded barefoot to where they’d sat. He lay down in the cool sand and spread out his arms. The sky had brightened to blue with the new day.

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  1. This book is a collision of Christianity in the real world with a fantasy story, but what if there were longevites living today, unknown to us? In what ways might their existence fit into God’s plan for humanity? As a “normal” human, do you ever ask God questions about His purposes similar to those asked by the longevites?

  2. The longevites have no way of predicting their life span. How would this uncertainty affect your daily life, human relationships, and relationship with God?

  3. If you’ve read No Less Days, you began this book having already met Finn—but barely. Did his true nature surprise you as you got to know
him? Did any other characters surprise you?

  4. Choosing a book’s point-of-view character can be a challenge for an author. How does Zac’s perspective shape this story? Is he always a reliable narrator? What might the story have been if told from another character’s perspective?

  5. The characters in From Sky to Sky are intended to have strengths and weaknesses, as all people do. What are Zac’s greatest strengths? What are his greatest flaws? What about the other characters? Who in the course of the story addresses one of his/her flaws? Who changes?

  6. Several of Zac’s close friends call him out on the masks he wears. Based on your knowledge of his personality and his past, discuss where these masks might have come from and why.

  7. Despite their difference of disposition, Simon and Zac are a strong example of the “friend who sticks closer than a brother” (Proverbs 18:24). Do you have a friend like this in your life, a friend who is the Simon to your Zac (or vice versa)?

  8. The longevites as a group don’t seem inclined to demand restitution from Rachel for the accidental deaths she caused. Do you agree with them? Does Rachel owe them, and if so, how could she pay this debt? If you were part of the meeting in chapters 24 and 25, what would you have to say?

  9. What are the moral implications of Rachel’s serum, of Anna and James taking it despite her warning? If Rachel is able to alter the serum, is David morally free to take it and join Tiana in a mortal life? Why or why not? If you were a longevite, would you desire a mortal life as David does, or would you desire another hundred years as Zac does?

  10. Zac tells David that he and Moira stayed together so long because he felt “safer” with her than with a mortal whom he would someday have to mourn. He also admits to himself that his relationship with Moira was an attempt to control his life and resist God’s authority. Discuss the many reasons a person might remain in a relationship (whether romantic or platonic) that is unhealthy and/or immoral. What will it be like for Zac if/when Moira comes home?

  11. In the final scenes of the book, Zac hopes for several things: that Cady and Finn will join the longevite family; that Cady will someday extend grace to Rachel; that his place in the semi-spotlight will continue to do good for others; that the support he, David, and Tiana offer will be able to help Rachel. What might happen now with each of Zac’s hopes? What is needed to bring them to pass?

  12. Discuss the significance of the book’s title.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  If you took part in the creation of this book, you probably know who you are. Some of you helped unearth the bones; some helped them grow flesh; all were vital to the process, and now is my chance to say public thanks to …

  My brainstormers and/or first readers, for the vital ways each of you furthered the cultivating of Zac’s story. Becky Dean and Jenness Walker, who showed up by God’s grace in the “wilderness season” of this book. Kristen Heitzmann, who bestowed on this book a wonderfully shredding copyedit sample I shall never forget. Jess Keller, who keeps showing up throughout the years and who cheerleads my young old guys (especially Simon). Emily Stevens, who put down Michael Crichton (whose work she loves, let’s be clear) to read yet another early draft of Zac. Charity Tinnin, who sees characters with such clarity and challenges my early attempts in the best ways. Melodie Lange, who is willing to devote an entire Panera night to brainstorming and character analysis anytime I ask. Andrea Taft, who always knows what I’m talking about, usually before I do.

  My agent Jessica Kirkland, for championing me and my stories and believing I can do basically anything.

  My editor Annie Tipton, for standalone tips and encouragement. My copyeditor JoAnne Simmons, for showing me where my subtext got a little too sub.

  My lovely house Barbour, for saying yes again. Kirk DouPonce, for creating my new favorite cover of all time.

  My Creator and Father, Fount of every blessing; my Savior in whose hand I reside forever; the Spirit who nudges and pokes when I am prone to wander. Lord of every good gift, thank You for giving me stories. Thank You for Zac’s story, and may the words of my pen be pleasing in Your sight.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  As a child, Amanda G. Stevens disparaged Mary Poppins and Stuart Little because they could never happen. Now she writes speculative fiction. She is the author of the Haven Seekers series, and her debut Seek and Hide was a 2015 INSPY Award finalist. She lives in Michigan and loves trade paperbacks, folk music, the Golden Era of Hollywood, and white cheddar popcorn.

  ALSO AVAILABLE FROM AMANDA G. STEVENS

  As far as David Galloway knows, he can’t die. Ageless and over a century old, David isolates himself from the mortal humans who grow old and die or desert him by making a quiet life as a used bookstore owner in Northern Michigan. When he spots a news article about a man who, like him, should be dead, he tracks the man down, needing answers. Soon David discovers a close-knit group of individuals as old as he is who offer the sort of kinship and community he hasn’t experienced for decades—but at what cost? David finds himself keeping secrets other than his own … protecting more than himself alone. Then crimes come to light that are older than any mortal. What does God require of David, and is he strong enough to see it through?

  Paperback / 978-1-68322-551-5 / $14.99