Larkstorm

by Dawn Rae Miller

  “She had no clue. Her mother thought she’d be torn up over it, but Kyra was excited. She said it was like learning you’re a superhero.”

  She didn’t know. So maybe Beck didn’t either. At least not until today.

  With my finger, I draw a series of circles on the table between the bed and chair. The repetitive movement helps me focus. “I wonder why she thinks it’s like being a superhero? She’s not saving the world. She’s a Sensitive—they’re the bad guys.”

  “She has powers Lark. What’s not to like about that?”

  I ignore his question. So far, he doesn’t seem confused and is recalling our earlier conversation. That’s good, even if his opinions are misguided. I get off the bed and stand in front of him, peering into his face.

  “What are you doing?”

  I hold up one finger. “Can you see this? Is it blurry?”

  Maz’s goofy laugh fills the little room. “Doctor Lark, are you checking me for a concussion?”

  I scowl. Just like a guy to make fun of my concern. “So what?”

  “I never thought of you as the nurturing type.” He laughs again before patting me on the head. “See, nothing to worry about. Now, who gets the bed and who gets the floor?”

  “Who do you think?” I give him my best ‘you-must-be-kidding’ glare, grab my pack and head for the restroom.

  I keep my head down as I wait next to the door for another passenger to finish. Once she vacates the tiny bathroom compartment, I seal myself in and hang my pack on the clothing hook. From the free toiletries container, I retrieve toothpaste and a toothbrush. I hate bad breath.

  And then I see my face. It’s just my normal face. I don’t look worn out or freakish or anything. It’s just my face.

  My olive eyes stare back at me. Beck’s eyes. Our eyes.

  If he didn’t know…then maybe I don’t either.

  I glance away. What if Kyra lied to Maz? That’s what Sensitives do. Lie. She most likely didn’t want him to out her, so she pretended she didn’t know.

  Which means Beck knew.

  I hurry through the rest of my pre-bed routine but avoid looking in the mirror.

  When I get back to the room, I find Maz curled with the extra pillow and his coat on the floor. I step over him and crawl into the bed.

  I lay awake after Maz dozes off. The sound of his snoring is nothing like Beck’s rhythmic breathing. I peer over the edge of the bed at him. It feels wrong having this boy share my room.

  I scrunch myself into the corner of the bed and shove the pillow over my head. Maybe if I try hard enough, I can imagine Maz is Beck, and I’ll sleep soundly.

  I should hate Beck. I should fear him. But I don’t. I can’t. He’s ingrained in me. His smile and laugh threaded into the very fabric of me. Who am I without him?

  I squeeze my eyes shut and give in to the images of Beck dancing behind my eyelids.

  Hurry, Lark. I’m waiting.

  Beck’s deep, honey-toned voice echoes around my brain. My eyes fly open and search for him. But, of course, he’s not here. It’s just wishful thinking.

  I clutch my little bird pendent and pray his voice will weave itself into my dreams.

  “I’ll be there soon. Promise,” I murmur as I drift off to sleep.

  #

  “Good morning ladies and gentlemen!”

  A monotone man’s voice on the intercom startles me awake. A pause. “Due to the unexpected change in weather, we’ll be stopping in thirty minutes at the next station for a train change. Please gather your belongings and board train 2-B to continue on your journey. We’re sorry for the inconvenience.”

  Another weather delay?

  My moved bag.

  The ticket agent.

  “They don’t want me to find him,” I mutter aloud.

  “What?”

  I hang over the edge of the bed, surprised Maz is awake. He stares up at me.

  “I think someone’s following me. Someone who wants to keep me from Beck,” I say.

  “It’s only a weather delay. What does it have to do with you?” He watches me like you would a senile caretaker. “I think you’ve gone nutter.”

  I jump off the bed. “I’m not crazy.” I cross my arms. “At the train station, the ticket agent knew my name—without seeing my wristlet—and someone came in here and moved my backpack. Someone is following me.”

  Maz gives me a pitiful look. “Okay, first. You’re acting like a two-year-old. Second, everyone knows who you and Beck are. I’ve seen the birthday cards you guys get from members of the society—people you’ve never met.

  “Third,” he holds up three fingers. “The room attendant probably came in to tidy up. Your room was locked, remember?”

  My heartbeat slows. He’s right. Beck and I are well-known, partly because of our ancestors and partly because of Mother’s position with State. And the attendants do come in for evening turndown service.

  But I’m not convinced.

  I pick up my backpack and head for the restroom. “I’ll be back in a few.”

  The hallway and bathroom are empty. I brush my teeth and resist the urge to smooth my hair into a ponytail. I know I’m right. Someone doesn’t want me to find Beck.

  I don’t change my clothes—no need to use up my clean pieces too soon. After giving myself a satisfied once-over, I head back to my room.

  “Your turn,” I say as I slide open the door. “Oh! Sorry! Sorry!” I try to slide the door shut but it’s stuck.

  Heat works its way up my cheeks. Maz is only wearing his underwear.

  I hear him laugh. “It’s not like I’m completely naked.” He steps into his pants and grabs his shirt off the floor. I look away as he pulls it over his light brown hair.

  “No, really. I’m sorry!” My ears burn.

  Maz’s lips move into a lazy smirk. “Haven’t you ever seen Beck without clothes?”

  “Of course. When we’ve gone swimming.” I cross my arms. “I’ve seen all of you shirtless.”

  “That’s not the same. Shirtless and naked aren’t even close. What do the two of you do in your room all alone?”

  “That’s none of your business!”

  “Huh. I guess Beck wasn’t lying.” He clicks his tongue.

  I cycle through a list of snappy retorts but give up when the train lurches to a stop. Thankful for the interruption, I motion to Maz. “Come on. Grab your pack and let’s go.”

  Before we head out, I give the window shade a tug and it coils around itself.

  I gasp. Snow covers everything.

  Last night, before dark fell, it looked like we had moved into warmer weather. But now, a thick layer of ice and snow coat the ground.

  “What the hell?” Maz says. “The bartender told me we’d passed into the Southern Territories.”

  It never snows in the Southern Territories—it’s one of the warmest areas of our Society.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. Must be what’s causing the weather delay. No one knows what to do.” He yanks his school jacket out of his pack. “Looks like I’ll need this after all.”

  I slip on my heavy jacket. “Ready?”

  “Yup. Do you know what stop this is?”

  “No idea. Can you check your wristlet?”

  Maz shakes his head and his hair flops into his eyes. “It hasn’t worked since I left school. Tried it earlier.”

  “Can you try again?” He starts to shake his head but I stop him. “Please?”

  An odd look flickers across his face. Maz holds the blue band and taps it. Nothing happens. “See? I think they turned it off or something once I left school.”

  Why would the State turn off his wristlet? “That’s odd. They normally want to know where we are.”

  Maz shrugs. “I’m probably not interesting enough.”

  “Feel left out, do you?” I joke. Poor Maz. Like me, he’s always been a little overshadowed by Beck.

  I sling my backpack over my shoulder and motion toward the door. “Ok
ay. Ready to go?”

  We walk into the cramped hallway and exit the train. Despite the announcement, confused people clog the platform and form a crowd three deep around the conductor.

  Maz and I bob and weave across the slick ground and through the crowd. Unlike the other passengers, who struggle to walk, we’re used to this weather.

  “Hey Maz, where?” I yell over the blast of the train whistle.

  “Platform 2-B!”

  The whistle screeches again. I jog left, careful not to slip, and press through the growing crowd. Cold air stings my face and each breath feels like inhaling icicles.

  A sign catches my attention. “Look.” I point to the sign, which reads Falls Way, Summer Hill and Tryse. “We’re here—no need to board– ”

  “Oh no,” Maz whispers loud enough for me to hear.

  Before I can ask him what he’s talking about, an arm grabs me and spins me around.

  “Sister! How good to see you!” Callum yanks me into an embrace.

  To my right, Maz stands confused and unsure what to do. I lift my head and with my eyes, tell him to stay back.

  I knew I was being followed, and now he believes it too.

  “Callum—what? Where did you come from?” I resist the urge to fly at him and beat my fists against his chest. Callum can’t see me angry. He needs to believe he doesn’t scare me. “Where’s Annalise?” I scan for my beautiful sister-in-law among the crowd.

  The corners of Callum’s mouth move upward in a sliver of a smile. He holds me at arm’s length and runs his eyes over me in a peculiar manner. Shivers race along my back. If only I had Beck’s warm arm wrapped around me now.

  “Annalise is attending to things.” He pats my head, much like Maz did last night, and straightens his coat.

  Maz slinks further away and turns to run but slips on the ice.

  I’m suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of panic. It gathers with my anger and grows in intensity before pushing out from my chest—sharp points looking for a target.

  Calm. Stay calm. I can’t let Callum know I’m frightened. And I can’t let him notice Maz.

  “Have you come for me?” I ask.

  “Of course. Can’t let you go running off after someone like Beck.” He waits for me to answer; his blue eyes bore into me.

  I fold my arms across my chest and stand with my legs wide. I feel powerful like this, much bigger than I am. I don’t move my eyes from his. “I’m not going with you.”

  “Look at my little sister.” Callum flashes his icy grin. “All grown up.”

  It’s obvious he doesn’t see me as a threat. And why would he? I’m so much smaller than he is. But that can work for me. Like in wrestling—no one expects a small person to be stronger or faster. Maybe the best thing to do is be direct and catch him off guard. “What do you want, Callum? I know you and Annalise accused Beck.”

  His eyes dance beneath his sculpted eyebrows and he chuckles. “We couldn’t have you paired off with someone like that. Bad for the family.”

  “And since when did any of you ever give me much thought? Beyond the fact that I’m birth-mated to another Founder’s descendant, which is great for Mother’s political career.”

  “That’s not the case anymore, is it?” Callum adjusts his scarf and his eyes soften. “Mother sent me to bring you home. She wants to help you.”

  “She can help? How?” I keep my face blank. Since Maz first suggested it, I’ve had time to ponder involving my mother. But I don’t know how she can give me what I want most: Beck.

  “Mother can fix this—you can still claim a spot in State, if you want. She’ll see to it.” His tense posture contrasts with the soothing sound of his voice. “She can even find you a more suitable mate.”

  “A different mate? Mother wants to pair me with someone else?” I choke out the words.

  Callum clenches his jaw. “Don’t act surprised. You are not compatible with Beck. And you’re not legally bound yet. Surely you understand.”

  His words work their way into my mind. Each one presses down harder than the previous.

  A different mate, just like Bethina and Maz said. The idea rubs an already raw spot in my heart—Beck is my mate. I can’t possibly be with anyone else.

  “Best you come home until we can get this all sorted out.”

  Home. To San Francisco. To my mother who can make everything better. It almost makes perfect sense. The best thing to do is let Mother figure this mess out. I can still have a career and a future.

  But not with Beck. And he’s the only thing I want.

  I need to get away from Callum. If I stay, I’ll never see Beck again. Maybe if I go along with him…I bite my lip and nod. “Right. We need a plan.”

  His lips curl back to reveal perfectly straight white teeth. “Exactly. A plan. Mother has some ideas and she’s anxious to see you.”

  Something in his tone alarms me. Beck was right to not trust Callum. There’s something wrong with him.

  I assess my situation. All I need is for Callum to relax and let his guard down. My mind flies through a series of questions, trying to pick the best one.

  “Were you on the train? How did you know where I was? I don’t have my wristlet.”

  Aggravation settles into his features and ages him beyond his twenty-two years.

  “No, I wasn’t.” He glares at me.

  It was the wrong question.

  “Finding you was easy, Lark. We expected you to try to reach him. Of course you’d come here.”

  With great effort, I keep my face empty, without emotion, while I ponder his use of ‘we.’ Did he mean he and Annalise, or he and my mother, or all of them?

  “We should go see Mother. She’ll know what to do.” I give Callum my best high-voltage smile and hope he believes me.

  Callum extends his arm and waits for me to take it. His cool blue eyes skim over my shoulder to something behind me.

  “Shall we?” he asks.

  It’s my chance to run. Maz stands just beyond Callum, and if I can get to him first, we can disappear into the crowd.

  I use all my strength and shove Callum. Before he can respond, he’s flat on the ground, gasping. Beck would be proud—all those years of wrestling paid off.

  “Run, Maz! Run!” I sprint toward him, slipping but staying upright.

  But I’m not moving. The air is heavy and my body feels as if it’s submerged in water. All around me people walk normally, but I struggle to take a step.

  In front of me, Maz holds his leg up midstep. He’s trapped also. And terrified.

  “Lark,” he says before falling in slow motion.

  “Maz!” My head swivels toward Callum.

  He smirks and looks to my right. I turn. Annalise waves at me from the next platform.

  “Heya, Lark! So nice of you to stick around.” Her body sways in a slow circle. The air around me tightens like a boa constrictor squeezing its prey.

  Fury. Absolute anger grows in my heart, like a million fireballs erupting from a volcano.

  “You! You did this?” I scream.

  My brother appears at her side and kisses her hand. His cheerful voice rings out, “Surprise!”

  “Callum, your mate—she’s a Sensitive?” My words hang in the air as I frantically try to get someone, anyone’s attention. But no one’s looking at us. How can they not see this?

  The squeezing intensifies and forces the oxygen from my lungs. If this lasts much longer, I’ll be unconscious.

  Callum touches his lips with his forefinger and winks. “Shhh…Birdie, don’t tell.”

  Annalise’s laugh echoes off the cold, hard surfaces of the gleaming train station.

  The shell around my heart shatters.

  “Don’t call me Birdie!”

  A thundering snap resonates through the station and still, no one even looks at us. With one final squeeze, the thick, suffocating air releases me, and I stumble. Somehow, for some reason, Annalise has let me go. I don’t waste time wondering why, and once steady o
n my feet, I run.

  I look back at Maz. Callum and Annalise flank either side of him. They hold him upright and he looks terrified. I hesitate and debate whether to go back for him.

  Go, Maz mouths.

  And I do.

  13

  The smell of fresh hay teases my nose and my eyelids drift open. I’m in a barn, curled up in a clean stall empty of animals.

  As I stand and stretch, the image of Annalise on the platform, surrounded by the snow, resurfaces like a bad dream.

  She’s one of them. And Callum knows and doesn’t mind, just like Maz doesn’t mind about Kyra. And yet they’re trying to keep me from my Sensitive mate. Why?

  Unsure of the time, I sneak to the edge of the barn door, hiding in the deep shadows, and peer outside. The snow’s gone and it’s still light outside—probably late afternoon. The vacant barnyard shimmers like a mirage under the unrelenting sun. For someone like me, who prefers winter, it’s too warm. But it seems safe, and for now, that’s all I can ask.

  I pass an extra bale of hay and decide to lug it back to my stall. It’ll make a good bench. It’s too hot for long sleeves, so I change into my t-shirt and pull my hair up into a ponytail.

  Better.

  I find a dinner roll Maz must have placed in my backpack and take a nibble. That small discovery reminds me of him, terrified and helpless on the platform. I know he told me to go, but I feel awful about leaving him. Callum wanted me, not him. Maybe if I had given myself up, they would have released him. And then he could have found Beck and told him how I tried to find him.