Hostage

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Hostage Page 3

by Rachel Manija Brown


  Ross ducked his head and fingered the lever.

  “Jennie and I talked about it before we asked you to the dance,” Mia explained. Poor Ross, wondering all this time! “We’ve been best friends since we were little girls. There was no way we were going to get in some stupid fight and break up our friendship over you. So yeah, it’s fine that you like Jennie, too. Sorry! I thought you knew that I knew that you . . . well, you know.”

  His shoulders jerked in an awkward shrug. “Every time I see her, she says she has something to do and runs off. If she did like me, she must have changed her mind.”

  So it wasn’t only Mia. That didn’t make Mia feel any better. “She’s been avoiding me, too. And I don’t think it’s because of you and me. That wouldn’t be like her. I think she’s grieving over Sera Diaz.”

  Ross’s eyebrows pulled together. “She was the Ranger captain, right?”

  Mia nodded. “Jennie says you always love the person who trains you, if you love martial arts. It was like she had two mothers: Mrs. Riley, and Sera.”

  When Ross looked away, Mia said, “When my mom died when I was little, I didn’t want to talk to anyone for months. I was afraid if I did, they’d mention her, and then I’d start crying and I’d never be able to stop.”

  Mia felt Ross tense. She wondered if he was thinking of his own parents, who’d died when he was four. He hardly ever talked about them. She decided to change the subject.

  “Will you take it to the ruined city?” she asked. “The gauntlet, I mean.”

  “Sure.”

  Ross’s response was so prompt and so enthusiastic that Mia couldn’t help herself. “Did you think about taking me? Will you take me? I’ve always dreamed of getting in there—think of the ancient machinery lying around, just waiting to be picked up!”

  Ross’s muscles tightened even more. Then he took a deep breath, and slowly relaxed. “Yes. I’d like to have you with me.”

  A shriek of pure joy burst from Mia’s lips. Ross jumped.

  “Sorry!” she said. “I mean, great!”

  Chapter Five. Las Anclas.

  Jennie

  Jennie’s fist slammed into the pad of the schoolyard punching post. It reverberated, a solid hit.

  “Two hundred twenty-three,” she muttered.

  Sera had told Jennie to hit the post fifty times daily for practice. “It’s relaxing, too,” she’d said. “If you’re focused on the one perfect blow, you can’t have anything else on your mind.”

  Jennie must not be focused, or she wouldn’t be thinking about Sera at all.

  She punched again. “Two hundred twenty-four.”

  As she drew back her fist, she noticed blood on her knuckles. Her hand throbbed in time with her heartbeat. Maybe she was overdoing it. She dropped her fist and looked up.

  Ross stood at the edge of the yard, eyeing her cautiously, glossy black hair ruffling in the wind and dust swirling around his feet.

  Mud had splashed around him when he’d fallen in the battle. The memory was so vivid: Ross lying still as death at Mia’s feet, the blood around his mouth obscenely bright in the pale dawn light, while Jennie counted the breaths that she took and he didn’t. Even though he had lived, even though he was here with her now, the grief and helplessness she’d felt then hit her so hard that she couldn’t bear to look at him.

  She recoiled, then caught his hurt look. “Hi, Ross.” She forced a smile, but when she saw his left hand, the smile became more real. “Mia finished your gauntlet! Did you come to try it out?”

  A pang of guilt knifed through her chest when she saw his unmistakable relief. “Yeah. Are you done training, or can I join in?”

  The images rose up again, blotting out the dusty schoolyard. Ross falling. Mia laying her palm on his still chest. Ross falling . . .

  Jennie blinked hard and put all the enthusiasm she didn’t feel into her voice. “Sure!”

  The smile Ross gave her seemed genuine. “Thanks. You’re running Ranger candidate training after this, right?”

  Jennie nodded. “Are you interested?”

  “I don’t want to be a Ranger. But I’d like to get back in shape, and I convinced Dr. Lee that I won’t drop dead if I do a little sparring.”

  “Great! Come along.” As soon as the words were out, she regretted them. Today was also her ex-boyfriend Indra’s first day back in training.

  She hadn’t been together with Indra and Ross since the dance before the attack. How awkward was that?

  Only to me, she thought. Indra was jealous of Ross when Indra and I were still dating, but now we’re just friends. And Ross and Indra don’t even know each other. I’m the only one who knows what I really feel about them both. So long as I hide my emotions, no one will notice a thing.

  “Want to stretch first? I’ll do the see-saw with you.” Jennie sat on the ground and forced herself to beckon cheerily to him.

  Ross dropped down lightly and extended his legs in a V. Jennie placed the soles of her shoes against his. Ross’s fingers closed around hers, his right warm and callused from his years of training, his left supported by smooth metal. They shifted, stretching each other’s legs out, until their faces were only a few feet apart.

  One thing hadn’t changed: their chemistry. His touch sent a wave of heat through her body. She could tell he felt it, too, the same way they could read each other’s intentions when they sparred. Some people just fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle.

  Jennie pulled Ross forward as she tilted her body backward. He grimaced.

  “Tight hamstrings?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I’ve been stretching by myself, but it’s not the same.”

  She held the position, then straightened up. “How’s Mia? I saw the dust rise from a nice explosion yesterday.”

  Ross leaned back until his hair brushed the ground, and the muscles of Jennie’s thighs burned.

  “We blew up some of the old cement road,” he said, his eyes closed against the sun. She enjoyed the long sweep of his lashes on his lean cheeks. “To get raw material for repairs.”

  “Bet she loved that.”

  He nodded. She pulled him forward, slowly increasing the stretch as she wore down the resistance in his stiff muscles. Ross gave a long exhale, and she was able to go lower. He winced.

  “Up?” Jennie asked.

  It was hard to keep that slippery grip on his hands. She used her stomach muscles to haul herself upright. They sat still, breathing hard. Wet strands of hair clung to his forehead, and his shirt revealed rather than hid the muscles of his chest. Jennie felt her shirt clinging too, and had to resist the urge to look down.

  “You must be excited about the trip to the ruined city,” she said.

  “Yeah.” He sounded doubtful.

  “Or are you worried about it?”

  “I can control those singing trees.” He spoke so softly that she had to lean in even closer to catch the words. Then he looked straight into her eyes. “Mia said she’s wanted to get into the ruins since she was a kid. What about you? Want to come with us?”

  Jennie let go of his hands, closed her eyes, and elaborately stretched out to give herself some space to think.

  It had obviously been hard for him to ask. Just because of that, she wanted to say yes. It would be a day to get there, probably a day inside the city—if they could get in—and a day to get back. Three days with Ross.

  Ross sprawled in the mud, chest still, hands slack . . .

  “I wish I could,” she said.

  His hurt was as easy to read as the alphabet book she’d given him on the first day they’d met.

  “I mean it. I wish I could go with you.” Jennie did wish she could; more, she wished she wanted to. “But I’ve got too much work to do.”

  “We’re not going right now,” Ross said. “Mia’s busy, too. Remember the crossbows from that ancient book I found, the ones that shoot six arrows at once? Mr. Preston is having her install mounted versions on the walls. The council didn’t want her to leave
town at all. It’ll be at least two weeks before we can go.”

  Though Jennie hadn’t done anything strenuous, she felt as dizzy and short of breath as she had fighting Voske’s soldiers among the burning trees. She could smell the smoke now.

  She fished for a different topic. “Did the Council give you a hard time about leaving, too?”

  Ross shook his head. “I’m not important.”

  He spoke without self-pity, merely stating a fact. It made Jennie want to contradict him more than if he’d been bitter. “You—“

  You saved the entire town, she thought. And he nearly died. She couldn’t bear the thought of reliving those memories for days on end.

  “You can take me next time,” she said. “This time, have fun with Mia.”

  Chapter Six. Las Anclas.

  Ross

  Ross wondered what he’d done wrong.

  When he and Jennie were sparring at the schoolyard, they’d begun moving together like they used to, reading each other’s intentions in the subtlest movements. Laughing together. But when she refused to go with him to the ruined city, her expression had gone strange and distant, and she’d barely spoken on their way to the Ranger training grounds.

  “Jennie,” he began.

  “I’ll get your gear.” Jennie dashed off toward the supplies.

  Ross stood alone, taking in the area: obstacle course, training equipment and weapons laid out and waiting. His left arm ached from the unaccustomed weight of the gauntlet, but it was great to be able to make a fist again.

  The Ranger candidates were warming up. Henry Callahan held a pad for Tommy Horst to punch, making faces of exaggerated agony at each blow. Brisa Preciado threw rocks at a target, the ribbons on her pigtails fluttering. Jennie’s foster-brother Jose crouched near Brisa, palms on the ground, moving ripples of earth toward her feet to test her balance. She picked up a pebble, clenched it in her chubby fist, flicked it at him, and snickered when it exploded in a bang and a puff of dust.

  The scene reminded Ross of the schoolyard before the battle. All it needed was Felicité Wolfe strutting around in a giant hat, taking notes for the archives.

  But other people had changed. Sujata Vardam, who had once minced beside Felicité in embroidered dresses, wore rugged training clothes. She was doing light sparring with Meredith Lowenstein, keeping the smaller girl at bay with her longer arms and legs—with difficulty, as Meredith was tough and fast.

  Paco and Yuki were also sparring, but not lightly. Ross had seen them spar before, but though Yuki had approached each match with the intensity of a real fight, Paco had treated drill with absent-minded competence, physically adept but saving his enthusiasm for drumming. Mostly, Ross remembered him relaxed and smiling. But Paco was serious now, his sharp features intent. His loose clothes snapped and popped as he punched and kicked, and he was moving so fast that Yuki seemed hard-pressed to keep up.

  Henry collapsed in mock exhaustion, letting his blond hair flop in the dust, then spotted Ross and scrambled to his feet. “Ross! You’re gonna train with the Ranger candidates?” When Ross nodded, he let out a loud whoop. “Yeah!”

  Everyone turned, even Paco and Yuki. Just before the battle, the townspeople had finally stopped staring at Ross for being a stranger, but afterward he’d become a center of attention all over again. He couldn’t wait for some trader to appear and draw away their interest.

  Henry feinted a punch toward Ross’s shoulder. “You’d make a great Ranger. It was so cool, what you did in the battle. I was guarding Mr. Preston, so I got to see you wipe out that entire squad of elite assassins.”

  Crystal chimes rang. Ross flinched.

  “. . . I counted the bodies. Thirty at one blow! Pretty amazing. I only shot twenty-six, and not all of them croaked.”

  Ross wanted to tell him to stop talking, but the chimes were so loud that he wasn’t sure Henry would be able to hear him.

  “. . . one guy was still running when black branches poked right out of his back—did you see it?”

  The door in Ross’s mind swung wide open. From the perspective of a quickly growing tree, he saw a black-clad man fall to the ground, bloody hands scrabbling in the mud. The blood crystallized and darkened, and the man’s fingers took root and began to grow into the earth.

  Ross slammed the door.

  “Shut up!” Ross shouted. “Shut up about that!”

  Henry’s blue eyes widened. “But it was cool. You were cool!”

  Ross clenched his fists. The chimes had stopped, but his ears were still ringing. The air seemed thick and hard to breathe.

  A shadow fell as someone stepped between him and Henry. Ross slid backward, guard up, and then recognized the tall guy with the long blue-black braid: Indra Vardam, the young Ranger who had been wounded in the battle. Ross dropped his fists.

  Indra wasn’t smiling. “Henry, you’re talking about killing people, not about some game where the person with the highest score wins.”

  “What’s wrong with being proud of defending the town?” Henry protested. “Everybody knows, if it wasn’t for Ross, all our heads would be on pikes on the walls!”

  “It isn’t wrong to be proud of defending the town,” said Indra. “But Sera taught us that killing is something we only do when we don’t have any other choice. There’s nothing cool about it.”

  Jose spoke up. “Pa Riley says that every one of those soldiers of Voske’s had a family who mourned them.”

  Meredith nodded vigorously, her red curls bouncing. “This is Ranger training, Henry. Not psycho killer training.”

  Several of the teenagers laughed. Henry grinned and shrugged. “Sure. I get it.” He wandered off and began hitting the punching post.

  Indra flicked his hand at the crowd, and they dispersed across the grounds. Ross wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. He couldn’t get the picture of the fallen soldier out of his head. Those fingers, taking root . . .

  Jennie approached, carrying a load of gear. “Thanks, Indra. Henry needed to hear that.” To Ross, she said, “Have you two met?”

  “Not exactly,” said Ross. “We were in the infirmary at the same time.”

  Jennie’s hands flexed.

  Indra smiled at Ross. “Doc Lee cleared me to get back in training. But I’m on light duty for a while.”

  He seemed like a nice guy. More, he seemed to understand.

  “Thanks for stepping in,” Ross said.

  Indra glanced at Henry, who was still pounding the punching post. “No problem. It’s about time he realized that not everything is a joke.”

  Jennie cupped her hands around her mouth. “All right, people! Line up!”

  The candidates instantly formed a line by height.

  “Let’s warm up with the obstacle course,” said Jennie. “Go!”

  The first obstacle was a set of rope monkey bars suspended between wooden frames. Ross slowed as he cupped his left hand into a hook and locked the gauntlet into place. He leaped up and caught the first rope with his left hand. The gauntlet worked perfectly as he swung hand over hand, easily passing first Brisa and then Meredith, whose short arms had so little reach that she had to set her entire body swinging to catch the next bar.

  By the time Ross reached the stone wall, he was at the head of the pack. He got halfway up the wall before he hit a spot where he needed his left hand. The hook slid off the hold. Yuki and Paco passed him, followed by Sujata and Tommy. Ross tried to balance with his feet, so he could free his right hand to adjust the gauntlet. His left foot slipped, and he fell off the wall.

  Ross landed in a crouch, unhurt but frustrated. He released the lock and tackled the wall again. But even with his fingers free to move, the smooth metal prevented him from getting a grip on anything. He should have taken the gauntlet off, but he couldn’t remove it without falling again.

  Meredith, Jose, Henry, and plump, short-legged Brisa swarmed past him. When Ross got to the top of the wall, he saw that he was last. He jumped down, landing with a knee-jarring thud.
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  Ross ran full-out for the mud pit, air burning in his lungs. Yuki leaped over it, his long legs clearing it with ease. Sujata seemed to float across, landed gracefully, and pelted after him. Brisa and Meredith didn’t attempt the jump, but slogged side by side through the mud. Brisa kept a protective hand over her ribbons.

  As Ross came up behind Henry, the blond boy swerved off to the side and kicked out. Ross saw the rock skidding into his path, but too late to avoid it. His foot slammed into it, and he went flying into the pit. Ross threw his left hand high as he splashed into the slimy mud, desperately trying to stay upright.

  Henry sailed across in a flash of yellow hair. Brisa glumly patted her mud-soaked ribbons.

  “Sorry, Brisa,” said Ross.

  “Done!” Paco’s voice rose up. Yuki finished right behind him, closely followed by Sujata.

  Ross hauled himself out of the pit and ran through the final set of obstacles, trying not to care how badly he’d done. He’d known that using the gauntlet would take practice, and he’d rather have Henry tripping him than congratulating him on killing people.

  Ross finished the course two steps ahead of Brisa, dripping mud, his scar a line of fire down his arm.

  Jennie’s gaze slid past him. He wished he knew what he could do to make her see him again, instead of staring past him with that blank gaze, like she was a thousand miles away. It chilled him.

  Yuki stepped up in front of Ross, folded his arms, and deliberately looked from Ross’s left hand to the muddy water puddling at his feet. There wasn’t a drop of mud on Yuki’s clothes, and not a hair had escaped from his sleek black ponytail.

  “Take me to the ruined city. You don’t know what sort of backup you might need. And Kogatana can scout for us.” Yuki held out his hand in the ‘deal’ sign.

  Ross knew how frustrating it had to be for Yuki to be denied the chance to explore the ruined city—a prospector’s ultimate dream. But Yuki was so cool and collected, easily accomplishing everything Ross struggled with, that being around him made Ross intensely conscious of all his own weaknesses. The last thing Ross wanted was to have Yuki’s critical gaze on him when he went to confront those crystal trees.

 

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