Hostage

by Rachel Manija Brown

  No, the last thing he wanted was for Mia to get hurt or killed because of his pride.

  Ross laid his palm against Yuki’s. “Deal. You’re right, you should come. But don’t bring your rat. I don’t know if I can protect her.”

  Yuki’s expression eased. “Deal.”

  Chapter Seven. Las Anclas.

  Mia

  Mia was so excited over the trip to the ruined city—tomorrow! —that she couldn’t concentrate. She picked up tools and put them down randomly, knowing there was something she’d forgotten.

  A scrape of metal on metal startled her as Ross turned a screw in a half-repaired engine.

  His gift! She patted her pocket, making sure it was still there. She loved making things for him. This weapon might be exactly what he needed.

  She’d meant to give it to him after dinner, but Dad had brought out his own surprise, cornmeal cakes and five tiny jugs of flavored syrup. The lemon-rosemary was good, but the honey-lavender tasted like soap, the tomato-basil was not a dessert, and she’d refused to try the horrifying olive oil-rose petal. Even Ross hadn’t managed more than a taste of that one. His favorite had been the prickly pear-chili pepper, which would have been better without the chili.

  Would now be a good time? She stole a glance at him. He was completely absorbed, his eyelashes casting shadows across his cheeks. Mia hated to disturb him, and she loved watching his hands moving so confidently over the engine.

  “It’s so hot,” he muttered. He pulled off his shirt and draped it over the back of his chair. Then he bent over the engine again.

  Mia couldn’t believe he’d relaxed enough to take his shirt off in front of her. No, he’d obviously forgotten that she was there. She smiled. He’d never think she was weird to get completely engrossed in a good repair job—he did, too.

  She surreptitiously eyed his bare chest. She’d always loved seeing the muscles in his shoulders move under his shirt, but she could see them much better now. And she’d never seen the muscles in his back at all. She leaned out to get a closer view, wondering what his skin felt like, so smooth and brown between his shoulder blades . . .

  Ross jerked his head to get his hair out of his eyes, then caught her staring. Mia jumped.

  “Am I doing this right?” he asked.

  Mia managed to swallow past the boulder in her throat. “Sure. Looking good.” She grimaced. Looking good? But Ross had already gone back to work.

  A couple turns of a wrench, then he smiled. “There. How’s that?”

  “Perfect. The engine’s perfect. What you did. It looks great.” She was babbling. Her teeth clicked together as she snapped her mouth shut.

  Ross yawned. “I should go to sleep. Yuki wants to leave at dawn. I think that’s a good idea, don’t you?”

  Mia managed a nod.

  He put away the tools, then walked up and kissed her. His hand caught on a rip in her shirt, just above her left breast, and he ran his finger along her bare skin. His own bare skin was pressed up against her body, so hot and alive . . .

  With his shirt off, he was technically half-naked. She was kissing a half-naked guy. She froze.

  Ross broke off the kiss, gave her a puzzled look, then backed off. “Don’t stay up all night working.”

  Once he was out the door, Mia wished she could reverse time, the way Dad sped it up when he used his Change power to heal people. She should have grabbed Ross and kept that kiss going. She’d been so distracted by his shirtlessness that she’d barely even kissed him back. And it wasn’t as if they’d get any chances to kiss on the expedition, with Yuki coming along. Even if Ross wasn’t embarrassed, Mia would be.

  She stared gloomily out the window. If only Jennie had agreed to come. If only Jennie would talk to Mia like she used to. When they returned, Mia vowed, she would corner Jennie and talk to her, even if Jennie wouldn’t talk back.

  She was distracted by the sight of Ross hurrying back out of Dad’s house. Maybe he was coming back to kiss some more? She left the window and hopped over engine parts to her door to greet him.

  But he didn’t come in. She counted three breaths—ten—then hopped back to the window.

  He had curled up in a secluded corner of her yard, by the sheet metal. Poor Ross! He must have been dreaming about the black trees again, or was afraid that he would if he stayed inside. He had to be so uncomfortable on the bare ground. She wished she could go out and . . . give him a pillow? Give him a kiss? Return his shirt?

  What she wanted to do was curl up next to him. The impulse made her palms prickle, and she rubbed them down her thighs. What would he think? What if someone walked by her yard, looked in, and saw them sleeping together? What if he wanted to have sex with her? Wasn’t that what sleeping together meant?

  Her heart raced, but with nervousness rather than excitement. Now she was being a freak again. People were supposed to want to have sex with their boyfriends, not be petrified at the thought.

  Then she remembered how long it had taken Ross to touch her, and how difficult it had been for him to let her touch him. If he thought she was about to pounce on him for sex, he’d probably jump up and run. In that case, she definitely shouldn’t go to him.

  She wasn’t even supposed to know that he was there.

  Frustrated, she sat down on the floor. Her surprise dug into her hip. She’d forgotten again.

  Chapter Eight. Las Anclas.

  Yuki

  Yuki hefted his backpack—heavy, but he’d rather be over-prepared than under—and set it on his bed with a thump. Kogatana, who had been napping in Paco’s lap with her bare pink tail curled around her furry gray body, woke with an indignant squeak, jumped off the bed, and retreated into her rat house.

  “That’s it. I’ll carry my weapons.” Yuki indicated the sword, crossbow, and knives that he’d placed on the bed.

  Paco hefted a dagger. “Nice balance. I didn’t know you could throw knives.”

  “Ross is teaching me. Who taught you?”

  Paco’s head bent, so Yuki couldn’t see his eyes. “My mother.”

  Yuki grimaced. I’m an idiot. Who else could have taught him?

  “She taught me when I was a kid,” Paco added. “I never practiced.”

  He handed over the knife. Yuki sheathed it carefully before he looked up. Paco was staring at the worn rug. “Are you okay?”

  Paco blinked and stirred. “I’m fine. All done?”

  You’re not fine, Yuki thought.

  It was natural for Paco to grieve. But was grief supposed to change you this much? When had Paco ever cared about weapons? Last night, when he’d played with the Old Town Band at Luc’s, his drumming had sounded perfunctory instead of passionate.

  Paco sat silently, twisting a bit of the blanket. A few months ago, he’d have drummed on the bed with his fingertips.

  Yuki used to like that Paco didn’t fill up every pause with pointless chatter. It reminded him of the tranquil quiet in his first parents’ chambers on the Taka. But this silence felt tense.

  Night had fallen, and the room was lit only by the yellow glow from a terrarium of bright moths. He and Paco had spent the night a couple of times before the battle, but not since then. Before, it had been easy. Paco was so light-hearted that Yuki had felt like even if he had said no, it wouldn’t have been a big deal. Now it seemed as if anything he said carried an enormous weight.

  But he wanted to ask, and so, when Paco finally stood up, Yuki put out a hand to stop him.

  “Come back safe.” Paco skirted his hand and walked out.

  *

  The impending dawn was a pale glow along the eastern foothills when Yuki set out. The opening door disturbed a flurry of bright moths. Colors flashed, then winked out as the moths returned to the eaves for the day.

  At Mia’s cottage, Ross was helping her put on an overstuffed backpack with a pouch for her flamethrower and straps for her crossbow and quiver. It all fit neatly against her back, though Yuki wondered how long she’d be able to walk carrying all that
weight.

  “What do you think you’ll need a flamethrower for?” Yuki asked.

  “You never know.” Mia buckled an unnecessary number of straps around her chest and shoulders, then exclaimed in dismay. “I forgot again!”

  She snatched something from under her pillow, then tried to cram her fist into her pack. It didn’t even begin to fit. Mia flung herself at Ross, opened his pack, and shoved the thing deep down inside it.

  Yuki hated it when people messed with his belongings without asking permission, but Ross didn’t seem to mind. Even Ross, who’d only lived in Las Anclas a couple months, fit in better than Yuki did after five years. A pang of loneliness chilled him.

  “Here,” Mia said to Ross. “So I don’t forget again. It’s for you, so please don’t look at it! I mean, it’s a surprise, so don’t look at it until we camp, and I’ll explain. I made it for you. I think you’ll really like it.”

  Ross smiled at her. “If you made it, I’m sure I’ll like it.”

  They set out. A quail bobbed its way across their path, followed by eight downy chicks. One glowed like a bright moth, casting a halo of green.

  “A new mutation!” Yuki exclaimed.

  “I’ve seen that before, but it was yellow,” Ross remarked. “You see a lot more mutations in the desert. I guess because you see more animals. Lots of creatures never go near the towns.”

  Yuki watched the bright chick until it vanished behind a hedge. It felt like a good omen for the trip. Maybe he’d discover an entirely new species!

  A kid shuffled to the bell tower, yawning, and began energetically yanking the bell rope. Grandma Riley left the tower to get her rest.

  On the walls, the night watch stashed their weapons and armor as the morning watch took their places. Henry’s blond hair caught the light from the edge of sun cresting the foothills.

  “Bye, guys!” Henry called down to them. “Have fun grubbing for tin foil! I’ll think of you while I’m defending the town.”

  Yuki’s back stiffened, but he ignored Henry. Mia let out an angry snort. Ross walked on as if he hadn’t heard, which was what that unfunny joke deserved. It was idiotic of Henry to act like the attack drill Mr. Preston had planned was real fighting, or more important than exploring new territory.

  But not even Henry could dampen Yuki’s excitement. He was getting out of town, finally; he was going prospecting where no one had been. Tomorrow Henry would have all the fake fighting he wanted, while Yuki would be making the discoveries of a lifetime.

  Yuki smiled as he left the walls behind him.

  He could hardly wait.

  Chapter Nine. Ruined City Outside Las Anclas.

  Ross

  The stars had traveled across the sky, paling at the eastern rim of the world: dawn was three hours off. Time to waken Mia for her watch. At first light, they’d venture into the crystal forest surrounding the ancient city.

  If Ross could get them in.

  He knelt in the cold sand and listened to Mia’s breathing, then laid his hand on her shoulder. She didn’t stir.

  Maybe he should let her sleep. He was too tense to close his eyes, worried that he’d get himself killed, he’d get Mia and Yuki killed, he’d be unable to convince the singing trees to let them in and they’d have to return to Las Anclas empty-handed, or the trees would overwhelm him with the memories of the deaths they had been born from, and he’d pass out or cry in front of Yuki.

  Ross opened the narrowest of cracks into the door in his mind. In the distance, he sensed a multitude of crystal trees, shining like stars and chiming out notes both delicate and strong. He’d have no trouble talking to those trees. The question was, would they listen to him?

  He closed the door and came back to himself. His fingers were digging into Mia’s shoulder. She fumbled her glasses on, and closed her warm hand over his cold fingers. He wished they were alone under the stars. He could lie down beside her, and—

  She stroked his hair. “My watch?”

  “I could take it. I’m not tired.”

  Mia gave him a gentle shove. “Go to sleep. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

  At least he could kiss her. Her lips were warm and soft. Then he lay back down, not bothering to take his boots off. He’d be up in a couple hours anyway.

  She buckled on her flamethrower and crossbow, which meant she also had to wear that huge backpack. Noticing his gaze, she said, “Design flaw. When we get back, I’ll make them detachable.”

  Ross closed his eyes. He’d rest, even if he couldn’t sleep.

  *

  “Ross!” Mia screamed.

  Ross rolled to his feet, knives in both hands. Five silhouettes charged over a dune in the pale pre-dawn light, weapons brandished.

  He threw a knife at the foremost, but it bounced off the man’s chest: armor. Ross raised his left hand. His arm and shoulder tightened for a throw, but his fingers couldn’t close. The knife slipped, and he slapped it into his right hand.

  As he cocked his arm back, a blast of fire roared from Mia’s flamethrower. The attackers scrambled out of range. She swept the flame back and forth, keeping them at bay.

  Yuki stood barefoot, long hair loose and sword in hand, ready for the next charge.

  Ross dove for his pack, yanked out the gauntlet, jammed it on to his left hand, and locked it into a fist. The flamethrower sputtered and died: out of fuel.

  He bolted for Mia’s side as a pair of attackers closed in, a middle-aged woman and a younger guy.

  “This is the one,” the woman said calmly, holding her fighting sticks ready. “Take him.”

  The man rushed in, feinting with his staff, then swinging the other end down to sweep Ross’ feet. Ross leaped over the staff. His jump carried him to within striking distance, and he brought the knife up in a slashing arc toward his enemy’s throat.

  Ross’s gaze shifted. The guy he was about to kill was his own age, eyes widening, mouth falling open. Ross knew what that expression meant. When he’d made his singing tree kill thirty of Voske’s soldiers, he’d felt those same emotions through his mental link: shock, terror, and the hopeless inevitability of death.

  Ross turned his hand and smashed the hilt into his opponent’s collarbone. The bone snapped audibly. The guy dropped his staff with a yell and fell to his knees, doubled over in pain.

  Ross darted back, dodging high and low strikes from the woman’s sticks, then found himself blocked by a green-haired man. He slammed his elbow into the man’s temple and kicked the woman in the stomach, knocking her backward. In the breathing space he’d gained, he looked for Mia and Yuki.

  Yuki was covering Mia as she struggled to unbuckle her backpack. He blocked a man with a sword and feinted at a slim girl whose bare brown hands were wreathed in lightning.

  Ross had seen that girl during the battle at Las Anclas. She’d backed him up halfway to the wall before Mia had shot her in the knee.

  These were Voske’s soldiers.

  Behind Yuki, Mia stumbled backward, desperately wrenching at her buckles. She’d managed to undo one of the straps holding her backpack on, but the other three were still tight across her chest.

  Ross leaped over the fallen green-haired guy, but the woman closed in, her sticks whirling.

  Ross slid aside, glancing back at Mia in frustration. She’d managed to get her crossbow out, but the fighting was too close for her to use it, especially hampered by her pack. She swung out wildly with the crossbow. A man snatched it out of her hand, then hit her in the chest with a palm-heel strike, knocking her down.

  Ross raised his knife. Before he could throw it, the woman’s stick rapped his ribs, quickly followed by a strike to his elbow that sent a lightning bolt of pain through his arm. His fingers opened by themselves, and the knife spun away. Ross bent to snatch another knife from his boot.

  Fingers touched the bare skin on the back of his neck. Everything went black.

  He swung his gauntlet behind him. His fist collided with something soft, and he heard a
yelp of pain. Ross frantically rubbed his right hand over his face. There was nothing over his eyes, but he couldn’t see.

  Someone swept his feet. He slammed to the ground. A knee drove into the small of his back, and someone else dropped onto his shoulders, forcing his face into the powdery dirt. Rough hands twisted his arms behind his back. He blinked furiously, but the darkness was so complete that he couldn’t even see the after-images of light.

  At least three people were holding him down, and he was blind.

  “Ross!” Mia shouted. She sounded frantic, not hurt.

  The last he’d seen, they’d been outnumbered five to three. More attackers must have snuck up behind them.

  “Run!” Ross yelled, then choked as he inhaled a mouthful of dust.

  There was a crackle of electricity, a yell of pain, and a girl’s jeering laugh.

  “What about the others?” a man said breathlessly.

  A woman replied. “Get rid of them.”

  Kill them? Ross forced his head out of the dust, sending pain shooting through his neck. He made a tremendous effort, using every muscle in his body, and struggled upward as he shouted, “Mia! Yuki! Run and get help!”

  “No!” Mia shouted. “I won’t leave you!”

  More bodies piled on Ross, slamming him down.

  “Mia!” Yuki yelled, his voice tight and strained.

  Ross heard a scuffle. Grunts. Mia and Yuki shouting, then footsteps running away. As they faded into the distance, so did Mia’s anguished cries. Yuki must have dragged her away. Though he was still trapped himself, Ross had never felt so relieved in his life.

  Ross heard the rustle of cloth and the crack of a knee as someone hunkered down near his head. A male voice spoke. “The blindness isn’t permanent. It’s my Change power, and it wears off in five or six days. That’ll be just in time to get you home.”

  “Where’s home?” Ross forced the words out. The more he learned, the better he could plan an escape.

  “Gold Point.”