Etheria (The Halo Series Book 1)

by Melody Robinette

  Just a guess.

  “Have you ever flown first class?” he asked, attempting to change the subject.

  “Nope. Have you?”

  “Nah. My uncle always said people who flew first class were a bunch of pretentious assholes.”

  Aurora cracked a smile at this. “You still live with your uncle, then?”

  Gray’s face fell. He opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by the stewardess taking his breakfast order. He glanced over at Aurora as he ordered the bagel with cream cheese and lox, and had to refrain from laughing at her irritated expression directed at the overly cheerful flight attendant.

  Aurora ordered the waffles and watched the woman leave with a look of dislike before she said, “You were saying?”

  “Oh. Uh, my uncle passed away about sixteen years ago.”

  “Sixteen years? How old were you?”

  “Ten.”

  “Where did you go then? An orphanage?”

  “I moved into the firehouse where my uncle worked. He was the chief. His friends wouldn’t have let me go to a foster home. I’ve been living there ever since.”

  “You’re a firefighter now too, huh?” Aurora guessed.

  “Actually, I’m the president of a major corporation, pulling in a couple million a year.”

  Aurora snorted. “M’kay.”

  “You don’t believe me?” Gray said.

  “Not even a little.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, first, you said this was your first time flying first class, and second, your hands are covered in calluses, which means you probably don’t sit behind a desk all day.” Gray lifted his eyebrows and Aurora shot him a smug look. “Am I right?” she said. He smirked and shrugged, confirming her suspicions. “Knew it.”

  “What do you do?” he inquired. "I didn't feel any calluses on your hand."

  Aurora frowned. “Nothing as of right now.” Gray sent her a questioning look, and she went on with apparent reluctance. “I was a substitute teacher, and before that, I was a waitress, a dog walker, and a babysitter. When I was in college, I changed my major so many times that I had to get a degree in General Studies.”

  “So…you’re well rounded.”

  Aurora laughed humorlessly. “That’s a way to look at it. Or, I simply succeed at nothing—either way.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking,” Gray said cautiously, “if you succeed at nothing, how did you come to fly first class on a plane to Alaska?”

  Aurora fell silent, looking as if she was trying to decide whether, or not, to tell him the truth. “I, uh, I got this letter.”

  Gray waited, and when she didn’t continue he said, “And?”

  “It had these tickets in it. Plane tickets. And one other…”

  Realization struck Gray. He stooped down and rifled through the bag at his feet. Sitting up, he held out a silver ticket with the word Etheria written across it in swirling letters. “A ticket like this?”

  When they landed, Gray followed Aurora off the plane. To his surprise, she didn’t immediately object.

  “How many cruise ships dock out of Alaska?” Aurora questioned, looking out the window of the airport as they traveled to baggage claim.

  “There was nothing in the letter about it being a cruise ship,” Gray reminded her.

  “What other kind of ship would it be?”

  “A magical ice ship run by penguins?” he suggested. Aurora rolled her eyes.

  Clearly, his witticisms were winning her over.

  When they reached baggage claim, the luggage had already begun its ride around the metallic carousel. Gray looked out for the bright yellow duffel bag he’d borrowed from Luka.

  “What time does the ship leave?” Aurora asked, watching the bags go around with half-lidded eyes.

  “Seven.” Gray looked at his watch. “We still have several hours to kill.”

  Aurora kept her eyes on the moving luggage. "We?"

  “Unless you aren’t planning on boarding the ship at seven,” Gray said.

  “I meant, you don’t have to stay with me after this.”

  “All right,” he said equably.

  Aurora shot a sideways glance at him, looking as if she had been expecting him to argue.

  I can play games too, he thought.

  They waited in silence for a few minutes, watching people pull their suitcases away from the others. Aurora stood a foot away from Gray, her arms crossed in impatience.

  “Where the hell is my bag?” she muttered.

  “What does it look like?”

  “It’s red with white stripes, like a candy cane.”

  “You’d think that would stand out.”

  A sudden movement flicked in Gray's periphery. A man dressed all in black glanced over his shoulder at Gray and Aurora with narrowed eyes peeking around the hooded shirt, covering most of his face. He had a yellow duffel bag slung over one shoulder and a red and white striped suitcase in his other hand. An airport mob passed by, blocking the man from view. Once they’d passed, Gray spotted the hooded stranger moving swiftly in the direction of the exits.

  “Hey!” Gray exclaimed.

  Aurora spun around, fixing him with startled eyes. “What?”

  “That guy has our bags!”

  Without a second thought, Gray charged towards the exit and through the clear doors with Aurora on his heels. Frigid Alaskan air hit them like an icy brick wall. Adrenaline deadened the cold. The same adrenaline Gray felt when fighting a fire.

  Aurora's hair whipped across her face as she turned her head left, and right, and left again. “Where did he—?”

  “There!” Gray stabbed a finger at a cab a few yards away. The hooded man shoved their bags into the back seat, ignoring the cabbie’s protests, and dove through the passenger’s side door. “Come on!” Gray called to Aurora, rushing over to an empty cab.

  “A car chase? Seriously?”

  He ripped the door open for her. “You want your luggage back or not?”

  Heaving a frustrated sigh, Aurora climbed into the back of the cab.

  Gray opened his mouth to say something to the driver but was cut off. “No, please let me,” Aurora said, holding up a hand to silence him. “Follow that car!” she shouted dramatically, pointing to the cab holding the hooded man, which was now pulling out of line.

  The cabbie laughed. “Been a while since I’ve done this, but all right.” He whipped onto the main road and floored the gas to catch up to the other cab.

  Gray hastily put his seatbelt on and urged Aurora to do the same, earning an annoyed look in return, though he soon heard a click from the backseat.

  “This is crazy,” she muttered.

  “The car chase?” Gray asked. "Yeah, I'd say."

  “No. The price. It’s already up to five bucks, and we haven’t even left the airport.”

  He glanced back at her. “And you don’t think a car chase is crazy?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve been in one before. My friend, Shawn, had seen this hot guy getting into a cab, so we flagged one down and followed it.”

  Gray shook his head at this. “You are quickly proving to be one of the most interesting girls I’ve ever met.”

  “And you are proving to be one of the most insane guys I’ve ever met,” Aurora said in a falsely sweet voice.

  “You two just met?” the cabbie asked in surprise.

  “On the plane,” Gray answered.

  “Things have been sort of crazy since then,” Aurora added.

  With a click of his tongue, the cabbie chuckled and said, “When in Alaska.”

  The two cabs, now bumper to bumper, traveled into the heart of Juneau.

  AURORA

  Aurora would have been lying if she’d said that excitement and adrenaline weren’t causing her blood to buzz like she'd just downed twenty espresso shots. In all honesty, she had been in a car chase with her friend, Shawn, but she’d neglected to tell Gray that it had only lasted a few blocks and the “hot guy” turned
out to be an incredibly masculine woman.

  The Alaskan cabbie swerved in and out of lanes, with even more reckless abandon than most cab drivers Aurora had come across. They made it into the heart of Juneau, early breakfasters flitting about the sidewalks and shooting the cabbie looks of disgust as he flew down the narrow streets of their sleepy town.

  “Up there!” Gray shouted suddenly, pointing ahead toward the other cab that had stopped in the middle of the road to let the hooded man escape. “He’s getting out.”

  Their cabbie pulled over in response, and Gray tossed him a handful of bills. “This should cover it,” he said. “Thanks, man.”

  Aurora hardly had time to climb out of the cab before it pulled away from the curb and vanished around a bend. She had even less time to take in her surroundings before Gray was pulling her down the street in pursuit of the mysterious luggage thief.

  She, indignantly, yanked her hand out of his, as she was perfectly capable of running without his help. The man toting the yellow duffel bag, and the red and white striped suitcase turned a corner before disappearing from view.

  “Hurry,” Gray urged.

  “I am,” she said, already breathless. “Not all of us climb a billion stairs a day and slide down poles with our big muscly arms to stay in shape. I sit behind a teacher’s desk all day and yell at teenagers.”

  Gray laughed. “Did you say you left that job by choice, or by force?”

  “Quit...talking to me...while...I’m running,” Aurora puffed between breaths.

  They pushed past what Aurora assumed was a mob of cruise ship tourists and rounded the corner where they had seen the hooded man disappear, finding themselves in a deserted alleyway. They spotted the man at the end, both bags open at his feet. He wasn’t alone. Another man, dressed in the same dark, hooded clothing, had joined him. The two of them were crouched, animal-like, on the cold ground, clawing through Aurora’s suitcase, tossing shirts and underwear onto the wet gravel. It appeared they had already done the same to Gray’s.

  “Hey! Get out of there, you perverts!” Aurora yelled, irately.

  The men both looked up then, and Aurora stopped her quick progress down the alley. Two pairs of beetle black eyes flashed from beneath their hoods. Their mouths appeared to be tied shut with wire. And what looked like horns were protruding from their foreheads.

  “What the—” Aurora breathed.

  A wicked smile spread across the first man’s face before he stepped back into the shadows of the alley walls, followed by his equally creepy companion. Gray was already sprinting towards them. Aurora followed, mentally noting that Gray reached the end much quicker than a person should, physically, be able to. He disappeared from view as he tracked after the hooded men into the dark corner of the alley. When Aurora caught up to him, he stepped out of the shadows, wearing a look of confusion.

  “They’re gone,” he said.

  “What? That’s impossible.” Aurora pushed past him and scanned the shadowy corner. Nothing but cigarette butts and bits of trash inhabited the area. The same confused look Gray wore was now painted on Aurora’s face as she stepped back before kneeling down beside her bag, searching through it.

  “Anything missing?” Gray asked coming to stand beside her.

  “Not that I can see… all of my valuables are in my traveling bag anyway,” she said, patting the red bag hanging from her shoulder. “My suitcase just has clothes, and shoes, and things.”

  “What was the point of all that?” Gray asked, shaking his head. “It seems a bit extreme for him to go to all of that trouble and then just ditch the bags.”

  “Maybe he didn’t expect us to follow him. He didn’t have time to steal anything.” Aurora said, as she stuffed her discarded clothes—covered in unidentified alley filth—back into her bag with a look of disgust. “These are all going to have to be washed.”

  “Yeah, but why us?” Gray continued. “Don’t you think it’s weird that he chose to take both of our bags—out of all the bags he could have taken?”

  “Maybe he heard us describing them.” Aurora shrugged, zipping her suitcase back with difficulty. “Man, it took me so long to stuff all of this crap in here.”

  “He already had our bags when you told me what yours looked like, and I never even said anything about mine.”

  “Maybe they’re part of some kind of luggage-thieving cult. They looked like they were in a cult. Fake masks and devil horns and all.”

  “Yeah, but why would—”

  “I don’t know, Gray. Coincidence.” Aurora stood, pulling her suitcase upright. “Are you going to put your stuff back into your bag, or just continue to dream up elaborate scenarios involving our luggage thief and his plot to destroy us?”

  “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?” Gray bent down to put his clothes back into his bag, now covered in a layer of grime.

  “You know that’s what you were doing in your mind, whether you admit it or not,” Aurora said.

  “Maybe… Do you not think this is all sort of strange?”

  “I’ve had stranger experiences,” Aurora said.

  “Like what?”

  “Like meeting you,” she stated dryly. “Are you ready?”

  “So, you’ve decided to stick with me until we board the ship then?” Gray looked up at her with a wry smile. Each time he did this, Aurora’s body reacted with a jolt, but she chose to ignore it.

  She shrugged. “Might as well.” Gray zipped up his yellow duffel bag, slinging it onto his shoulder. Aurora laughed as she took in the blinding brightness of it. “You know, maybe that creeper took our bags because they were the most inconspicuous.”

  “That’s probably it.” Gray chuckled as they began their journey out of the sinister alleyway. “Where to first?”

  “Somewhere with alcohol.”

  Five

  GRAY

  Gray hadn’t been lying when he’d said Aurora was the most interesting person he’d ever met—and he'd met a lot of people.

  He wasn't quite sure what it was that made her so fascinating to him. Maybe it was because she had this thick, impassable guard up as if readying herself for an attack, yet was seemingly unfazed when a hooded stranger made off with her bag and left it, open and vulnerable.

  Normally, he wouldn’t ever do something like this either. He hadn’t taken a day off work since he was old enough to work—not even on Christmas. What was Christmas without a family to spend it with?

  Depressing, that’s what.

  Normally, he would have thrown a letter like the one he’d received in the trash and forgotten about it, writing it off as nothing more than a scam. But, with this letter...he couldn't. When he wasn’t fighting fires, he'd been thinking about that letter, the plane ticket, the ship ticket. Every time he thought about going, his chest filled with something resembling hope or excitement, and each time he thought maybe he shouldn’t go, a dark cloud of anxiety suffocated him.

  Normally, he ignored his anxiety. Or tried to, at least.

  But, in the end, he felt he had no choice. He told his boss he was taking a week off, and the chief laughed before he realized Gray was serious. “’Bout damn time, son,” the chief had said. “Take two weeks, if you want. Hell, take a whole month.”

  Now, here he was, walking the streets of Juneau beside a fiery blonde who, at any given moment, could spook like a deer in the woods, dashing far, far away from him.

  Aurora spotted a quaint pub on their walk and jabbed her pointer finger in its direction. “Aha! Alcohol.”

  “Do you normally drink before noon?” Gray inquired, following after Aurora as she jaywalked across the street. A rusted old pickup came to a squealing halt to avoid hitting her. Gray held up a hand in apology, jogging behind her. Aurora seemed oblivious to all of this.

  “No, I can’t say I do,” Aurora said, a sharp edge of defense to her words. “I’ve also never flown on an airplane this early in the morning—ever, actually—or get my luggage stolen by a creepy man
. Or chase after him in an Alaskan cab. Nor do I typically come into contact with many hooded, shadow, cult people this early. So, I’m going to have some alcohol, ‘kay?”

  Gray snorted and followed her inside without comment. There were, unsurprisingly, only a handful of other people in the dark establishment given the newness of the day.

  They each slid onto a jade green barstool with cracks and fissures in the fake leather. Gray ordered a pint of Guinness, at which Aurora crinkled her nose in disgust.

  “Have you ever tried it?” Gray asked, watching her dig an olive out of her Bloody Mary and pop it into her mouth.

  “Nope.”

  Gray slid the pint glass in front of her. "Here, try it."

  Frowning down at the drink, she reluctantly picked it up and took a small gulp. “Ugh,” she gagged, wiping the froth from her upper lip, pulling a face. “That’s revolting.”

  Gray laughed as she slid the drink back towards him with a flat hand. He sipped at the pint, letting the dark liquid spread across his tongue. It had a rich heaviness to it that was not unpleasant—quite the contrary. A lingering sweetness remained on the back of his tongue with a hint of bitterness reminiscent of dark roast coffee.

  “You’re crazy,” he said. “This tastes like they have a direct tap to heaven.”

  “If this is what heaven tastes like, then I’ll stay dehydrated when I get there. If I get there, I guess I should say.”

  “Why do you say that?” he asked, taking another drink.

  Aurora shrugged, picking absentmindedly at a coaster. “I wasn’t raised in church, so I don’t really know all the rules. I just know there are lots of them.”

  “I suppose that’s true.”

  Gray didn’t like to talk about it much, but he wasn’t exactly religious either. After 9/11, he had been very nearly atheist. He couldn’t wrap his mind around a God that would allow something like that to happen.

  Suddenly, a cry rang out behind them. Gray turned to see a girl several stools down the bar looking frantically around her seat. “Where’s my purse? I just had it! It was right here,” the girl said in a thick southern accent.

  “What color is it?” the bartender asked her in an uninterested tone.