Insynn

by Loren Walker

  She stared at him, confused.

  Then realization crawled over her.

  He was cutting off contact. He was leaving.

  A surge of anger burst through her, an eruption on the edge of her lips: After everything I did for you, after last night and everything that's happened, now that it's finally resolved, you decide to end things?

  Then a heavy grief sank over her. She pushed her fists into her eyes, gathering her courage.

  “Do you remember what you said to me, back in your house on the cliffs?” she began. “I asked you: why bother getting in touch with someone like me? Why bother with the effort?”

  She smiled at the memory as she lowered her hands. “You told me: ‘I think you have the potential to make a difference in the world.’ I never forgot that. You planted the idea in my head that maybe I was more than a worthless outcast.”

  Theron’s eyes shifted to the side. But he didn’t speak, nor leave.

  She wet her lips with her tongue, pushing out the words. “Theron, I don’t care what different paths we’re on, and I don’t know how it would ever work, I just - I don’t want to say goodbye. I don't -”

  Theron turned his broad back to her.

  She stared at the red cord that tied his hair back. Humiliation crept up her neck. Didn't he know how hard it was for her to be vulnerable?

  No, she refused to let him reject her.

  Phaira stepped forward, and rested her forehead on the center of his back. She let herself sink into the fabric, the smell of him, the warmth, willing him to turn around.

  “I love you.” The words tumbled out, slightly shrill, to her horror.

  His reply was half carried away by the wind, but the clipped tone rang through. “Sorry, but I don't know what to tell you.”

  Phaira jerked away, as if electrocuted. Tears were building, stupid, embarrassing tears that she couldn't hold back. She couldn't believe what she'd heard.

  I’ve never said that to anyone. And he rejected it.

  Never again, she promised herself, as she ran up the hill, away from the sounds of the bridge.

  I’ll never say it again.

  * * *

  The next day, Renzo was awake and mobile, but Sydel advised against him taking the controls of the Arazura just yet. Give it another day, she told him. Let CaLarca handle it.

  CaLarca agreed. She got them into flight, and Renzo wandered and sat in random spots, grumbled about being an invalid again, and stole looks of jealousy at the cockpit. Sydel ignored him, as did Cohen. They were oddly restless, after all the frantic activity and danger. Nervous energy bounced off everyone. Except for Phaira, at least, as far as she could tell. She hadn't seen Phaira yet; CaLarca had lowered the Arazura on the outskirts of Lea so she could board, but the woman had gone directly into her cabin and shut the door. She must have been exhausted, Sydel reasoned, though a prickle of uncertainty came with that thought. There was something else going on, Sydel could sense it, but she wasn't going to push. Not yet.

  “We need to leave.”

  Phaira appeared at the edge of her doorway. Her skin was sallow, her eyes glittering, and her dark mouth tight.

  “Are you okay?” Cohen asked, staring at Phaira.

  “Fine. We should get out of the East, and hide for a while.”

  “You think we're in danger?” Sydel asked, surprised.

  “I'm not sure of anything,” Phaira said curtly, “but we've been too exposed. Too many people know our faces and names. It's only going to get worse.”

  “So, where do we go? Back to Toomba?” Cohen asked hopefully.

  “I will not,” CaLarca's voice rang out. “We need to go West.”

  Phaira frowned. “West? To where?"

  “The border between Midland and the Kings,” CaLarca said. There was a curious urgency in her voice.

  “That's too far,” Renzo said. “And there's nothing out there.”

  “Why do you want to go?” Phaira pushed, with a surprising level of bitterness. “Your friends out there?”

  CaLarca flinched. She opened her mouth to say something, but her eyes averted, as if she were afraid.

  Renzo sighed. “Look, Toomba's not my first choice either, but maybe it's - ”

  “No,” CaLarca said darkly. “I won't go.

  “You don't have a say,” Phaira snapped.

  The words hung in the air. They were being unfair, Sydel knew it was true, but she made no move to correct it. They were in such a precarious position. They couldn't just fly into unknown territory. They needed somewhere safe, and guarded, until the storm passed.

  But CaLarca's face was pinched and white, her eyes blacker than ever. Phaira lifted her chin at the woman, as if daring her to respond. Tension crackled between the women.

  “Let's not decide right now,” Renzo broke in. “We can talk about -”

  Renzo stopped mid-sentence, and put a hand to the Arazura to steady himself.

  Phaira and Cohen moved to help him. “What's wrong?” they asked simultaneously.

  “Nothing, I just…” Renzo shook his head.

  Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he slumped against the paneling.

  Phaira let out a cry of shock. Then her body jerked, as if struck, and her body collapsed backwards in a blur of blue and white.

  Cohen dropped to his knees, swiping at the air, before sprawling across the ground.

  Sydel fought the swamping, willing her body to defend her, but she was so sluggish after the battle, and the urge to sleep was so insistent against her skull, pounding and pounding. She couldn’t hold the barrier up any longer.

  The last thing she saw was CaLarca's livid face, her eyes swallowing her up in blackness.

  about the author:

  Born in Ontario, Canada, Loren Walker lives and works in Rhode Island. Her poetry has appeared in the anthologies Routes, Frequency Writers City and Sea, The West Texas Review, and QU Journal. Her debut novel EKO was a finalist in the Half the World Global Literary Award completion, chosen as a Library Journal SELF-e Select Pick, and a Shelf Unbound Notable Indie in 2016.

  Get publishing updates, character biographies and custom illustrations at her official site: www.lorenwalker.net

  The final book of the NINE Series is NYX.

  thank you:

  to my family and friends, my eternal cheerleaders.

  to my beta reader Jill Corley, whose dramatic reactions always make me smile.

  to my editor Lindsay Galloway, and to Deranged Doctor Design, for making INSYNN look good.

  and to you, for buying this book.