by Trisha Leigh
We don’t say anything more. Words don’t matter.
Deshi clears his throat, and Lucas and I tear our eyes from each other. “I’ll leave you alone for ten minutes. I think that’s all we can afford. The Wardens are in a meeting, but not everyone is. If Zak or Kenda need me and can’t find me, they’ll look here first. So, ten minutes.”
It doesn’t escape me that Deshi is risking something here, even if he’s acting as though it’s no big deal. He won’t meet Pax’s eyes, but he can’t stop the curious glances sliding over Lucas and me, down to our linked hands.
When he raises his gaze to my face, I latch on. “Thank you, Deshi.”
He nods quickly, disappearing as the boys echo my sentiment.
Pax strides over to the opening, peering both directions down the corridors. When he turns and comes back to us, he slings an arm around Lucas’s neck. “No one’s out there. It’s good to see you guys.”
Lucas grins and goes to elbow Pax in the ribs. The weeping blood stops him. “What happened to you?”
Pax sighs. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Pax, come on. We only have ten minutes, don’t waste half of it making us force you to talk,” I prod.
Maybe he doesn’t want to share, and maybe there’s nothing we can do, but I still want to know who’s hurting him. If nothing else, so their name can go on my ever-growing list of people to retaliate against if I get out of here.
He clamps his teeth together. “Kendaja has taken a kind of liking to me, I guess.” He smirks the slow smile that used to steal the moisture from my mouth. “Who can blame her, right?”
It should make me smile, but instead it floods my head with anger so forceful it surprises me. Before, when I thought about Kendaja I felt a tiny bit of pity for her. She’s obviously mentally unsound, and her father and brother treat her like a toy or an animal kept on a chain. This, though? Hurting Pax when he’s trapped and defenseless? It pushes me so far toward hatred that I can’t find any compassion for her.
The intensity of my hatred startles me, and something inside me breaks off and floats away. Probably one of the last good pieces I had left. “She’s not going to get away with it, Pax.”
“Now, Summer, I know you think you can protect all of us all the time, but that’s not the case. She’s not going to kill me; she’s just playing. And these are just scratches.” He tugs on my ponytail. “So let’s talk about something else.”
The lump in my throat makes it impossible to do that, so Lucas squeezes my hand and comes to the rescue. “At least she left your face alone. That would be tragic, to ruin that thing.”
“True. I think she likes it. I mean, she’s insane, but she’s still a woman.”
Their banter brings a smile to my face in spite of everything, and even though it feels a little wobbly, it buoys my spirits. “Okay, enough. The Prime’s coming back tomorrow. What are we going to do?”
Neither of them answers, and I take the moment to survey the three of us. By my best estimation, we’ve been locked up here a couple of weeks, maybe three at the most. We’ve all lost weight—there’s no reason to think they’ve been fed any more than I have, and if Deshi’s only having mercy on me, then it’s fair to assume they’ve eaten even less—but other than that we’re all relatively intact. Filthy, reeking, but whole.
As bad as Pax looks, and as angry as his condition makes me, he’s not incapacitated.
“Do we try to fight?” I ask quietly.
They exchange a glance, then Lucas shrugs. “We’re not getting out of here like that. Maybe we could travel. Maybe. But the Spritans are gone for good. What if the bracelets don’t work?”
I concentrate on the threads ringing my wrist for a moment, and the soft hum of Spritan magic shifts through them. “The magic is still in them. But nothing’s changed. Leaving won’t convince Deshi to join us in our fight.”
“What fight? I mean, if we die in here, that destroys our chances.” Pax crosses his arms, looking between Lucas and me for agreement.
“He’s right, Althea. Deshi or no Deshi, we can’t just stand there and let them kill us. That definitely ends any chance we have.”
“I know, but I think I’m close to making him see things differently. I can feel it. He’s thinking about it.”
“Deshi’s been to see you?” Pax asks. A swift mixture of guilt and envy crosses his handsome olive complexion. “When?”
“A couple of times. He brought a salve for my burns and gave me water with the pink stuff mixed in—it healed me, at least from the burns, almost immediately. Anyway he lets me tell him things, about how it’s been out there.”
“And you think he’s listening?” Lucas muses.
“I don’t think he’s changed his mind yet, but yes. He’s listening.” I take a deep breath. “But you’re right. The Prime’s coming back tomorrow, so we’ll have to try traveling. Unless they take our bracelets, or put those gloves on us again—you remember, Pax. They block our powers.”
He nods. “I remember. All we can do is what we can do. If we don’t get out of here, at least Brittany’s working at the cabin. In a few weeks everyone else will be, too.”
“Forty kids against two hundred Others.” Lucas doesn’t clarify the statement, but it’s more sorrowful than disbelieving.
I know none of us are sure the kids we unveiled can’t find a way to win back Earth. We just aren’t sure they can, either.
Then again, maybe we’re not capable of such a feat, either.
“We shouldn’t talk about them in here. You never know who’s listening.” I cast a quick glance toward the ceiling, hoping they follow my drift.
Deshi might be necessary, and maybe I’m closer to getting him to rethink his position than I was yesterday, but we can’t trust him. Not yet. And he could be listening to every word.
As though we conjured him, Deshi appears in the corner. He looks a little nervous, and who can blame him? The risk he’s taking in letting the three of us say good-bye isn’t small.
“Time to go.”
Pax turns to me quickly, snatching me into a fierce hug. “See you tomorrow.”
To my surprise, he does the same to Lucas. The two of them give each other a couple of slaps on the back, then Pax strides toward Deshi. “Take me first.”
They disappear a second later, and I step into Lucas’s arms, not wanting to waste a moment of the privacy Pax just bought us. I pull his face to mine, taking more time with the kiss now that we’re alone. Lucas’s lips are dry and chapped; mine are, too. We smell terrible. None of that matters. He tastes like love and friendship, and his cold arms around my back send delightful shivers down my spine.
His grip tightens and he lifts me against him, backing up until we run into the wall. My fingers find his hair and tangle in the curls, and I lose myself in the smell of winter and the warm need spilling through my blood.
When he loosens his grip, letting me slide down the front of him until my feet touch the ground, it’s too soon. I don’t want to let go of him, not ever. But Deshi will be back any minute. Even so, I stand on my toes to reach his mouth again, taking and giving a little bit more. I can feel the knowledge between us, in the desperate desire to clutch these stolen moments, that this might be the last time we hold each other.
Lucas’s smile is sad, his dimples creasing the tiniest bit. His hands are heavy on my waist, and I know he doesn’t want to let me go, either. “I wish we had more time. And more privacy.”
The suggestion in his statement, and the idea of what might happen if Lucas and I had hours to explore each other, heats the blood in my heart. My mouth goes dry as the sensation spills downward into my stomach, then weakens my knees.
I want it so badly—time. We might never get the chance.
“I love you,” I say.
The words are ridiculously inadequate for the feelings racing through me. Instead of trying to say it differently, to articulate everything, I simply stare up into his eyes. Lucas and I have always exc
elled at nonverbal communication, and right now I see those millions of feelings all over his face, too.
His frigid hand brushes over the scar that runs from my hairline past my eye, down my neck, and finally slides around to thread into my hair. “I love you, too.”
We’re holding hands in silence when Deshi returns, our sides pressed against each other for support.
“Lucas next.”
Lucas squeezes my hand, then steps to Deshi’s side. He casts one last glance at me, then sticks out his hand for Deshi to shake. The surprise on our fourth’s face is almost comical, and my heart breaks for him. It’s a simple act of kindness from a thoughtful boy, a thank-you and an acknowledgment of the risks he’s taken today.
When Deshi reaches out, Lucas grasps his hand without hesitation. “Take care of her, Deshi. Okay?”
I put my hands on my hips, summoning bravado because the gravity of the moment threatens to break me into pieces. “I can take care of myself, Lucas. Don’t be an ass.”
Deshi’s eyebrows shoot up and he barks a short laugh. He stops as though the noise shocks him, then does it again. The astonishment on Lucas’s face makes me laugh, too, and after a moment Deshi and I are doubled over with giggles.
Lucas looks amused now, arms crossed over his chest. “Are one of you going to explain the joke here? What’s an ass?”
That only makes Deshi laugh harder, and the sound of his mirth fill me with hope. “It’s another word for butt. Deshi taught me.”
“Hilarious.” Lucas’s mouth twists into a wry smile, deepening his dimples and making me want to kiss him all the more.
“Okay, okay. We really have to go.” Deshi stands up, wiping his eyes and wrapping his fingers around Lucas’s wrist.
After they’re gone, the image of Deshi’s honey skin wrapped around Lucas’s paleness sticks in my mind. Then I think about tomorrow, and try not to cry.
Chapter 7.
Deshi brings me back to my smelly mess of a temporary home. I can’t talk because it’s taking all of my concentration not to break down into tears.
He drops my hand and turns over the movie player to check the battery compartment. I shove all of my terror and loss into my stomach, where it makes me a little nauseous. “So what do we do now?”
“Well, there’s still a couple hours before the meeting and training is over. I thought maybe we could watch my movie.” He looks away, almost shy as if he’s asking me to a Gathering and is afraid I’m going to say no.
Except there’s nothing between Deshi and me that suggests romance or courtship. Not even warmth. I wish I felt something more than pity, but perhaps after everything that’s about as much as can be expected.
Even so, I give him a small smile and nod. “Okay. Can I see it?”
“My note? Sure.” He picks a plastic case up off the floor, where it must have been underneath the DVD player, and hands it to me.
The cover is black and white. A handsome, tall man with a little girl hanging off his back smiles down into a pretty woman’s face. The title, scrolled across the top, says It’s a Wonderful Life. The back confuses me a little bit, because, like Deshi said, the story seems sad to me even though the words and the title make it seem as though it’s happy.
The note inside is exactly like mine, except the words are fading. Frantically, I pry my own message loose from inside my star-shaped locket. It’s disappearing as well.
Grief threatens to climb out of my center, but a couple of deep breaths get it back under control. My hand clenches so tight around my locket that it leaves a star mark in the center of my palm, kind of like the red mark that decorates each Warden’s neck just under their ear. Regular Others have red star outlines—the Elements have black ones that look like stamps.
Deshi sets the DVD player in the corner farthest from the one I’ve been using as a wasteroom, then wrinkles his nose. His eyes close for a moment, and his lips move with silent words.
“What are you doing?”
He holds a hand up in my direction, silencing my question and irritating me more than a little in the process. Not long after he opens his eyes, though, the Goblert who brought me food appears outside the marble bars separating me from the rest of the Underground Core.
Deshi lets him inside and even though we’ve met, the Goblert doesn’t acknowledge my presence. He goes to the corner stinking with my waste and blows a handful of glittery dust into the air the way he did to take Lucas away to the Harvest Site. When it settles on the ground, everything underneath it disappears.
The room smells better before the Goblert’s steps even disappear into the darkness, and the small kindness relights my faith. Not much, but enough.
“Thank you,” I tell Deshi for the second time tonight.
He shrugs. “It’s a long movie. I didn’t want to sit here for three hours in that stench.”
Fair enough, but his disinterested tone worries me. It makes me feel like he’s slipping further away instead of slinking closer. I ignore the urge to beg, even though it grows stronger with every moment closer to tomorrow. “What’s the Goblert’s name?”
“What? Why?” Suspicion pinches his eyebrows together.
“I don’t know. I’d like to thank him the next time he brings me something, I guess. Not that there’ll be a next time.”
“It’s D-A-X-K but no one can say it so we call him Dax.”
“How come he has a name no one can say? Didn’t the Others name him since he’s half-Other?” The questions escape, for a moment toppling my insecurity over Deshi’s allegiance and my fear over my looming death.
“The Others allow the half-breed creatures to retain names from their culture. Since they’re not pure, they can’t have Deasupran names, anyway.” He sounds as though he’s quoting a textbook, not saying something he believes.
Another smidge of hope returns. “You mean like Griffin and Greer not having Other—Deasupran—names. Their mother gave them Sidhe names.”
“Yeah.”
“Huh.” A realization ignites pride and fight within me. I look up and catch Deshi staring at me with his lips pursed in an annoyed expression, but it only makes me grin through the happy tears pricking my eyes.
“What?” he snaps.
“It’s just… so our parents named us, too. What they wanted. And probably something indicative of where we’re from.” I shuffle through my memory to the night Cadi told Lucas and I who we are and where we come from. When I remembered where Pax was from, I couldn’t recall what she said about Deshi, but now I do. “You’re from a place called China, Deshi. Your name must come from there.”
I’m not sure whether it makes Deshi feel the same wonderful sense of family that’s crawling over me, but the expression on his face isn’t annoyed anymore. It’s maybe a little bit confused, but also pleased.
He shakes it off. “Let’s just watch the movie.”
“Sure, okay.” When he presses a button, pictures accompanied by music pop onto the screen.
“That! The sound. That’s music,” I crow, grinning again at Deshi. “You know what it is.”
Wonder lights his face. “I never had the word for it before now.”
The volume is low, making me strain to hear, but it’s probably not wise to turn it up any higher. When Deshi sits down beside me I scoot closer, breathing in the light scent of spring. He gives me a look out of the corner of his eye, making me shrug. “I just don’t want to feel alone.”
He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t pull away. “You mean I’ll do since you can’t have Lucas or Pax.”
At first I feel badly because maybe he’s right, and maybe there are even more people on that list of who I’d rather be with than him. But then I realize he’s not. “No. I mean we’re the same, Deshi. Even if you don’t want to believe it, and even if you let us all die tomorrow. We are the only people who understand you. And that makes you exactly one of the people I want to spend my last night beside.”
For the next couple of hours we watch the
movie in silence. It’s nothing like the films the Others force us all to watch every Saturday. Well, I guess technically they don’t force us, since no one else seems to mind. Still. Those are ridiculous and created only to entertain.
It’s a Wonderful Life makes me think. Which I’m assuming is why no humans are allowed to watch it or anything similar. It makes me wonder how many movies like this one were discarded, hidden away, or otherwise destroyed when the Others invaded Earth. Are they gone forever, or, if we somehow manage to win, will people be able to recover intellectual treasures of the past?
In the movie there’s a man who’s always dreamed of going on adventures. He didn’t want the things his friends wanted, which I think was just to go to Cell and get a good Career and a nice Partner. But those are the things the man, George Bailey, ends up with anyway. He’s sad at first, and frustrated that his life won’t turn out the way he wants, but eventually he learns to be happy anyway.
I think that’s the point.
There are many parts that go right over my head, though. “So what’s Christmas? And what’s an angel? And why were stars talking to one another?”
I’ve read about Christmas in other books, like Harry Potter, but never grasped the concept.
“I have no idea. But the rest of the story… I like it.” Deshi’s eyes are a little red; even though I didn’t look at him out of respect, I know he cried at the end.
So did I, which surprised me a little bit because halfway through I wanted George to get out of the little town and see the rest of the world.
My cell goes dark again, and I light a single sphere in my hand, holding it near my lap. Deshi gets up and grabs the DVD player and the plastic DVD container, shuffling toward the door. I don’t know how we’re supposed to say good-bye. It’s not as though we like each other, or that we’re friends… except maybe we are and he hasn’t been able to admit it yet.
And neither have I.
If I want Deshi to really trust us, to believe that the things I’ve been telling him about the world outside of the Others’ control are true, shouldn’t I trust him first?
