Skyhunter

by Marie Lu

  I point to Red and give my mother a meaningful look.

  To her credit, she doesn’t flinch for an instant. Instead, she picks up her pace and motions for me to follow. “We can cross through the metal yards,” she says as she goes. “It’ll give us some cover, so they don’t know we’re coming.”

  I run beside her at a steady pace. Ahead, a patrol of four Federation soldiers stumbles upon us—but my mother’s already moving, lifting the crossbow in her hands and aiming it directly at the nearest soldier. At the same time, I yank out my gun and fire twice at a second soldier, then flip the weapon into my left hand and fire at the third.

  My shots hit the second soldier square in his chest—the third manages to duck, but a bullet catches him in the leg. I dart out of his line of sight as he falls, swearing, and lifts his gun to fire blindly toward us. My boots move without a sound as I climb up the side of a burned-out shack, the destroyed metal shifting unsteadily beneath my feet as I go.

  Below me, the soldier doesn’t even know that I’m now running above him. I feel like the phantom that I’ve trained all my life to become—a Ghost killer, a weapon of destruction, an invisible outsider in every way. The wind rushes beneath me, blasts of heat accompanying it from the fires that rage all around us, and for a moment, it seems like I might be lifted into the air.

  Then the soldier turns his gun toward my mother. I pivot off the side of the shack at the same time. My body twists in midair—efficient and practiced—and my blades are instinctively in my hands before I can register what I’m doing. I slash out at him in a whirlwind. Once, twice—

  —scarlet sprays against the ground. The soldier collapses.

  I land lightly on my feet and start running again without looking at the carnage I’ve left behind. My mother runs beside me, her breathing steady. She nods to my left.

  “Horses,” she gasps as she goes.

  I see the panicked steeds left behind by the group of soldiers we encountered. We swerve from our path to secure them. Their eyes roll, showing their whites, and when I approach, they rear up.

  I dodge past their hooves, grab the pommel of a bay’s saddle, and swing myself up effortlessly. Then I lean over and seize the reins of a horse for my mother.

  Part of being a Striker means having the ability to project a deathly calm, to use anything and everything around you to your advantage. Now, I can sense the horse steadying in my grip, relieved to have a master again. My mother climbs on hers.

  I turn the horse in the direction of the scrapyards, then urge it into a gallop.

  The battle scene blurs past us. Smoke has thickened so much that it’s difficult to see anything through it except the red tint of silhouettes, of Federation soldiers clashing with Marans, and of Ghosts ripping through the bodies of fleeing refugees. Ahead of us, Red’s figure is a dark, airborne speck surging around the enormous Ghosts.

  An explosion near the gates makes our horses scream. I look over to see the gates finally starting to crumble—an impossible sight, something that should never have been able to happen. Those gates that had never before been breached will soon be reduced to rubble. A great roar goes up from the Federation troops, and the first of them begin to flood in, charging into a mass of somber, waiting soldiers.

  I tear my gaze away from the scene and focus on our plan at hand: Get to the Premier. Kill him at all costs. Our horses speed up, their hooves pounding against the ground.

  We’ve barely reached the scrapyards when a Ghost charges into our path. It turns its bleeding eyes toward us, enraged, and then bares its gaping jaws.

  I pull the crossbow from my back and aim at it—but before I can fire, another arrow blooms right through its clavicle, making it shriek and twist around. A blur of sapphire flies through the air, landing on its shoulders. Jeran.

  He grabs his gun and fires at the creature’s neck cuff until it gives way. From his side materializes Adena, blades spinning. She slices through its vulnerable vein, and blood sprays on the ground before us.

  I break into a smile. They’re still here, still fighting.

  Jeran hops down from the falling Ghost to land nimbly on the back of his own steed. He shoots my mother and me a questioning look. “Red?” he signs, nodding back toward where my Shield is fighting for his life.

  I nod once.

  Adena smiles. Her expression is fierce, her eyes alight with the anticipation of war. “Don’t want to miss the party, then,” she signs at us, and then they nudge their horses into a gallop too.

  We ride through the carnage and the smoke and the flames. Past the burning gates of the outer wall and the massacre happening within. I see Ghosts lurching in through the charred entrance, while archers on the inner wall’s ramparts still try to hold their ground.

  Mara has always been the last beacon of freedom. I’d crossed over into this country with my mother thinking that now we would be invincible forever, that somehow, Mara’s impenetrable capital would never fall. But the scene before me looks eerily similar to how Basea had looked when it finally crumbled to the Federation. There is no difference.

  My attention zeroes in on the Premier, still stark against the sky in his armor astride his horse. Overhead, an enemy Skyhunter dives down, aiming for Red. He has finally killed the two Ghosts guarding the Premier, shredding one’s calves and cutting its tendons, slicing clean through the second’s throat. But it doesn’t matter—more Ghosts, massive ones that must have been converted decades ago—converge on the battle. The pain that comes through our tether sears me to the bone.

  I think of Red’s memory that had once flashed through my mind, of him seeing his sister as the Federation gradually transformed her into their Ghost and him into their next weapon. I think of Corian, his eyes turned up to me as I take his life so that he will not walk this land as a Ghost. I think of my mother as we huddled on the other side of the cliffs, watching refugees fall into the abyss as the bridges collapsed.

  This is what the Federation does to us. It plants these horrifying memories in our minds until our hearts have turned hollow.

  I clench my teeth at the sight, my heart burning from Red’s fury, then crouch lower against my steed’s back as we surge toward the fight. The rest of the battle around us dims into the distance. Even now, my Striker companions don’t make a sound beside me. My mother stays silent. We ride as a phantom team, accompanied by nothing but the pounding of war hooves.

  Mara will fall. But maybe we can take the Federation’s Premier with us.

  Through our tether, I reach out to Red. You’re not fighting alone.

  His attention flickers to us. Our eyes find each other through the chaos and hold for a precious moment. I linger on him for as long as I can. It might be the last time we ever get to see each other.

  Then I narrow my gaze on the closest Ghost and pull my gun out of its holster. My other hand yanks out one of my blades.

  For a moment, I think I can feel Corian’s spirit riding beside us, his smile fierce and his hair wild. It’s as if nothing had changed since the day we headed out together into our first battle.

  See you after the carnage, he’d sign to me, then vanish into the melee.

  I hurtle toward the Ghost and then jump high into the air. I aim at its neck and fire.

  The bloodlust in me blinds my concentration to anything else. I am death now, steel and sword and bullet. I am one with my weapons. The world blurs around me—I see Adena and Jeran throw themselves into the fray, aiming at the other Ghosts. My mother has her teeth bared as she fires arrows into a nearby Federation soldier. And overhead, Red clashes with another Skyhunter, their wings a maelstrom of death as they spiral and spin.

  Ahead of me is the Premier.

  The Ghost I’m attacking claws for me, shrieking. I arch out of its way, hit the ground and roll, and then dart underneath it, moving as quickly and silently as I’ve ever done. I have to get close to the Premier. He has his own weapons out now, pointing his gun at Maran soldiers nearby. His weapon swings to where
Adena is cutting down one of her Ghosts. He fires.

  The bullet hits Adena hard in the leg. I bite my tongue at the sight until I taste blood in my mouth, but I don’t dare scream out. All I can do is watch as my patrol leader cringes and collapses to one knee, losing her balance. She topples from the Ghost’s shoulders, blades still spinning as she goes. Even now, she doesn’t cry out or utter a single sound.

  I force my attention back to the Premier. He’s going to fire again. He doesn’t see me coming.

  Another Ghost lunges for me. I skid beneath it, roll, and keep going. Another horse runs past me—I grab its saddle and swing myself up onto its back, forcing it to turn toward the Premier. Closer, closer.

  All I need is one good shot. The gun in my hand tightens as I aim for him.

  This is for what you’ve done to Red. To his family. For what you and your father have inflicted on every nation you’ve conquered and brought under your fist. For my mother. This is for everything and everyone and all of us.

  I fire.

  At the same time, the Premier sees me.

  One of his soldiers lunges forward, knocking him off his horse. My bullet hits the sacrificial soldier in the chest.

  The Premier lands on the ground—hurt, but alive.

  Guards swarm to him, hiding him from view.

  I’m forced to swerve away as they point their crossbows and guns at me again. As my horse gallops underneath a Ghost, I throw myself off its back and land in a roll. I have to try once more.

  Then pain explodes through my body.

  I glance down, dazed, to see a thick arrow protruding from my side. The angle of it makes me turn my eyes up. There, I see a Skyhunter bearing down on me, his eyes glowing with the determination to kill.

  A second arrow—a bullet?—hits my leg. I wince and fall, my blades still in my hands.

  Everything seems to slow down. From above, a dark shadow falls over me.

  Red strikes the Skyhunter before he can reach me. There’s a loud crunch of metal, followed by the shrieks of Ghosts. A second Skyhunter has sealed off my path to the Premier—and as I stagger back, I see one of them land in front of his horse, wings outstretched protectively before him.

  Red lunges again and again at his own Skyhunter assailant. Too late, I see a second one swing a chain in his direction. They’re going to capture him.

  Red. I reach for him through our tether as I force myself to my feet and strike out at the nearest Federation soldier. Behind you!

  He turns and looks down at the second Skyhunter just as the chain the Skyhunter throws strikes him. Red’s quick enough to dart to his right, so that the chain misses his torso—but it catches one of his legs and whips tightly around it. He winces. The spark of pain shoots through our link and I wince too. The weight makes him lurch sharply to one side.

  Everything around me has turned into a smear of blood and fire. Between the fighting bodies, I see the silhouette of Mara’s Inner City burning. A lone scarlet flag flies over the ramparts of the inner wall.

  The city has fallen.

  A third arrow strikes me in my other leg. I barely feel the pain of it this time—only its force thudding through me, then my body betraying me as I fall again. From the sky, I think I hear Red calling my name through our link.

  Talin!

  Perhaps he’s shouting with his real voice. I can’t tell anymore. My arms swing out, still fighting. My blade runs straight through a soldier’s chest, and he falls with a hoarse groan.

  Blackness threatens my sight. Is Jeran still fighting? Adena? I turn my gaze skyward to Red and lift my gun at the chain binding him. If they take him back to the Federation’s capital, they’ll finish transforming him into a full Skyhunter, and I’ll lose him. We can’t afford that. I can’t bear it. If Mara must fall, then let him go free.

  With the last of my strength, I take aim and fire three shots—my last bullets—at the chain.

  At least my aim is still accurate. I hit it once, then again in the same link, then a third time. The chain snaps clean with a clatter of metal, and Red suddenly lurches free into the air again, the links falling to the ground beneath him.

  He whirls immediately around to look at me. His eyes are engulfed in silver-white light, but behind that glow, I know his expression is a stricken one. A trill of rage shoots through our tether as he starts to lunge for me—only to halt when the Premier’s Skyhunters gather between us, cutting us off. He’s far too outnumbered here.

  Go, I think, as clearly and sharply as I can. There are tears on my cheeks now, but my resolve stays unwavering. Get out of here. It’s useless for you to die here too. Stay free and get help. Strike back another day. Please.

  He doesn’t want to leave me. I can feel the desperation coming back to me from him, and for an instant longer, he stays there, hovering in the air. Then the other Skyhunters move toward him, and I send my thought more harshly.

  You have to do this for me. Go!

  Finally, Red tears his gaze away from me and pushes down hard with his wings. He soars up, out of the range of the Skyhunters, and dives into the chaos of the battle, disappearing behind the giant silhouettes of several Ghosts. Behind him, the other Skyhunters give chase for a moment before they stop. Two remain on Red’s trail, while the rest return to protect the Premier.

  I look around the battlefield for other Strikers, but see no flash of sapphire coats. Everything is a sea of scarlet. Again, I try to rise to my knees and swing out at the soldiers now approaching me. This time, though, I just crumple again.

  My mother? Where is she?

  Finally, my arms feel too leaden to fight. Every part of my body weakens, even as I try to force it onward. My breaths come in gasps.

  For Mara, for its citizens, for the wealthy and the wicked and the poor and the suffering, I am going to give my life today on the battlefield. And maybe it won’t even matter. It’ll be like every other country that has fallen before the Federation—the soldiers that stood up against it forgotten, ash blown away in the wind.

  It will be as if I’ve never existed. Will every Striker fall tonight? Will the world even remember that Mara once had such an elite fighting force?

  Red. Red. What will happen to him? Will the Federation capture him and take him back to their labs and finish their work on him? I reach for him in my mind as I fade, trying to hang on to the quiet moments we’d shared. I think of the first time I ever saw him, in chains as Maran soldiers led him out into the arena, willing to die, yet exuding a strength that I couldn’t ignore.

  Red.

  I have no idea if he can hear me call for him through our link, whether I’m too weak to reach him or whether he’s still alive himself to hear it. I think I feel the pulse of him on the other side, and everything in my heart yearns toward him, wishing for one last moment before it all ends.

  At least we tried. At least we gave our everything.

  I wait for the sear of another arrow to pierce my chest and end my life. As the world around me dims, the last thing I see is a scarlet figure striding toward me. It’s a young man. The Premier, Constantine Tyrus. There is a slash on his cheek, and blood smears his hands, but he still holds his head high. Uninjured.

  We’ve failed to take him down. Constantine will remain and rule over the Federation.

  My eyes meet his as he kneels down to my dying figure. He recognizes me now. I can see the flicker in his gaze.

  “You’re the one from the capital,” he says.

  I wish, more than anything, that I still had a voice in this moment, just to spit an answer back at him. Tell him that everything I’ve ever done was to destroy him and his father. That he had taken so much from me—my words, my home, my world—and yet could not take everything.

  But instead I stare at him in silence, and in that silence, he gives me a grim smile. “It’s better to forget this,” he tells me. “You’re a part of the Federation now.”

  It’s better to forget.

  His words trigger some small, old part of
my memory. I flinch, wincing at the sudden recollection. Something about that phrase, something about it paired with this surrounding of a world destroyed by the Federation. It is too familiar.

  It’s better to forget, it’s better to forget …

  And then, just like that, the fog in my memory—the blur surrounding the night that the Federation had first invaded Basea, the mystery of what had happened to my father that night—clears, burned away by the familiar sight of yet another home of mine collapsing to the same enemy.

  I see myself as an eight-year-old again, on the night of the invasion of Sur Kama. My mother and I were curled beside each other in a trapdoor underneath our carpet. My father had dug this space out under the house—it’s tight and dark, no bigger than ten square feet wide and four square feet deep. We had originally intended to use it as a cool pantry to store some of our harvest. But then the Federation came to the borders of Basea, and we’d turned it into our hiding spot.

  My mother’s arm wrapped tightly around me. Her entire body trembled.

  Outside, we could hear the shattering of glass as Federation soldiers smashed our neighbors’ windows with the hilts of their blades and the butts of their guns. Screams pierced the night air. Already, there was a hint of smoke permeating the air as the Federation began to set fire to homes.

  At the door stood my father. When I lifted the trapdoor enough to let in a tiny slit of light, I could catch a glimpse of his tall figure pressed against the wall, listening intently for the approach of soldiers. I could see every detail of his face cut into sharp relief—the same cheekbones I inherited, his angular nose, the soft brow and green, slender eyes. Sweat dripped down his temple, but his face stayed as it always was, serene and still.

  No, no. I don’t want to remember this. I don’t.

  “Get down, Talin,” my mother hissed beside me, and I lowered myself a little, but I couldn’t help watching my father stand there.

  “When is he going to come hide with us?” I whispered to her in the dark.