“You should find him. Talk to him,” Dysis said. “It’s a lot to process. Even though you’d already told Jax, he was still shocked when he saw me. Calix had no warning. Not to mention he’s figured out by now that everything you told him for the past few months is a lie.”
“Are you trying to make me feel better? Because—”
“I’m just saying you have to give him time.”
“I’m not sure how much time I have to give.” Aris plucked at her white tunic. Major Vidar could say what he wanted about her being a good flyer, but they wouldn’t be able to keep up the deception that “Aristos” was resting and wanted to be alone for long.
“What did Major Vidar say? Was he mad?” Dysis asked.
Aris shook her head. “He didn’t seem angry. Just . . . not sure what to do with me.” And he almost kissed me. Maybe. Gods, had he? Had she? She’d just imagined it, right? Nothing had happened. Nothing was going to happen. Why am I even thinking about this?
Dysis bumped her arm. “You okay?”
“I don’t know what to do,” Aris said miserably.
“Well, what do you want to do?” Dysis gestured to Aris’s clothes. “You’re a girl again. You can stay that way. Find a little place in Mekia, maybe, and be with Calix? That’s why we did this, wasn’t it? To find them?”
Aris shrugged, twisting her hands together, clenching and unclenching until her fingers were red. “I don’t think it matters what I want. Calix can’t stand the sight of me, and Aristos is gone. What choice does that leave?” Aristos is gone. A tightness built in her chest.
Dysis squeezed Aris’s shoulder. “You can’t give up so easily, Aris! You’re the romantic, remember? Your little fantasy came true. We found Jax and Calix. That makes this a happy day.” She smiled but there was sadness in her eyes. Not entirely happy, with Talon and Wolfe and Galec dead. “Talk to him. It can’t make things any worse, right?”
“I am happy, Dysis,” Aris said softly. “I’m so happy you found Jax and that he’s okay.”
“Me too, Mosquito, me too.” She stood. “I think I’ll check on him, see if Major Vidar’s done.”
“Dysis, wait.”
Dysis paused at the door, eyebrows raised.
“Major Vidar knows about you too. In the confusion, with finding Jax . . . I’m sorry.”
She didn’t respond right away. And when she did it was with a shrug. “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I came here—I did this—for Jax. Wherever he goes, that’s where I’ll be.” Dysis opened the door. “I don’t think Major Vidar will turn us in. I’ll just disappear, leave when Jax leaves.”
But Dysis was so good at being a soldier. How could she walk away?
“What about Lieutenant Daakon?”
“What about him?” Her voice betrayed nothing.
“So, you’re really giving it up? You’ll go home with Jax and teach mechanics again? And never look back?”
Dysis glanced over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. “I’ll be looking back for as long as I live. But it doesn’t change who I am.”
Aris fought sudden tears. Dysis turned to go. They were sectormates. Friends. They were supposed to stay together, protect each other. But now . . . “Wait,” she whispered again, but couldn’t go on. “I . . . Dysis . . .”
She didn’t know how to say goodbye.
Dysis didn’t turn around. Just froze for a moment in the doorway, shoulders tense. And then, without another word, she slipped away.
Chapter 51
It wasn’t hard to find Calix. Aris just told the first soldier she passed that she had an urgent message for him from Major Vidar, and the man led her to his room.
She knocked softly on the wall beside the open doorway. Inside, it looked just like her bedroom back at Spiro: two beds, two chrome trunks, the closed door to the washroom. Calix was sitting on one of the beds, leaned up against the wall, his forehead resting on his bent knees. He was thinner than she remembered, more muscled. Harder, like she was.
“Calix?”
He didn’t move. She was about to say his name again, when he murmured, “You really joined Military? You’ve been pretending to be a man all this time?”
“Yes.” She stepped around the edge of the bed, until she was standing beside him. “Won’t you even look at me?” She let a hand run along his shaved head. “You were the only thing in my life. You were everything. And then you went away.” Her voice broke.
He finally looked up. “What made you even think of it, Aris?”
She let her hand drop from his skin, felt the memory of the touch as if it were seared into her palm. “I was recruited to be a flyer.” She couldn’t bring herself to admit she’d done it for him. Not when he was looking at her like that.
“There aren’t any women in Military. It’s not allowed.”
Was that really all he cared about? The rules?
“You told me to keep flying! This was my chance. And it is allowed. Sort of. If you know the right people.”
“I knew you liked to fly, but I just can’t believe you did this.” He looked at her more closely. “How did you do it? You’re not strong enough for the physical training. Did they—”
She cut him off. “I was strong enough.” Holy, he sounded just like her father. “I went through everything you did . . . the running, the weights, the combat training. I passed all the tests.”
He shook his head in disbelief. Which annoyed her, but she couldn’t blame him for it either. Why shouldn’t he have doubts? She’d been just as convinced that she’d fail.
Still. She sank to the bed beside him. “I thought you’d be proud. I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
Calix sagged forward, staring at his hands resting on his knees. “Happy? Oh Gods, I don’t even know what to think. You should have told me.”
“I couldn’t, Calix. I gave my word. The risk of exposure was too great.”
“So no one knows where you are? Your parents think you’re working some silco-pushing job in Panthea and that you’re—what—just too busy to visit? What do you say when they write you and offer to come see you?”
She sighed. “I tell them that I want to see them, but it’s a bad time, or that I’ll try to visit next week.”
Anger sparked in his eyes. “And what if something had happened to you? How would they have ever known? How would I?”
When she didn’t respond, he rolled his eyes in disgust, and suddenly she was angry, too. “It’s been hard, okay? The physical training nearly killed me. And it wasn’t exactly easy to let someone shave my head. I had to watch everything I did and said, so I wouldn’t be exposed and thrown in prison for being a woman in Military.”
“I just . . . this is too much, Aris. I can’t believe you’re here. That you’re a . . .” His eyes went again to her head, “A soldier.”
She couldn’t stand the way he was looking at her. “Don’t you get it? I did this for you, Calix! You said we couldn’t Promise if we were so far apart. I thought you’d be glad—” She shook her head, disgusted with herself. And with him. “I was so stupid.”
His eyes widened. “For me? Aris, that is stupid. I would never have asked—expected . . .”
“You’re right,” Aris said. “I shouldn’t have done it, not for you. But for other reasons? Absolutely. Even if it meant leaving Lux. Even if it means being incarcerated. It was worth it.” She swallowed, realizing she meant it, even after the horror of the last mission. “I’ve saved people. And the ones I couldn’t save . . . I’m a good flyer, Calix. I’ve made a difference. Can’t you at least try to understand?”
She wanted to tell him about the night she flew through the storm, how she’d impressed Major Vidar with her skills. She wished he would hold her in his arms as she told him of the little girl, that poor murdered family. Galec. Lieutenants Wolfe and Talon. Everything that had happened, she wanted to share it with him. With someone. She didn’t want to
have to carry it alone.
“You want me to understand?” His sharp-edged voice sliced through her thoughts. “You broke the law, Aris. You might be sent to jail! How could you mess with your future like that? Our future? And you lied to me, to everyone! The Aris I knew wouldn’t have lied. She wouldn’t have done this.”
The words may as well have been knives.
Aris stood up, hands balled into fists. “You should be proud that I did.” Tears were falling now; she didn’t bother wiping them away. “Maybe even impressed. Hell, how about grateful!”
“Grateful?”
“I didn’t let you go, Calix. I fought for you, to be here with you. And you can’t even tell me you’re happy to see me!” How could she have been so wrong about him? About everything? How could he look at her like that, as if she were a stranger?
“What do you want me to say?” He shifted his gaze to the floor.
“What do you think, Calix?” She wanted to punch a hole in the wall. After months as a soldier, her impulse was to hit, tear down, damage. She wanted to push him. Use her fists to make him understand.
His eyes burned when they met hers. “Oh, I’ll tell you what I think. You’re not going to like it, but I’ll tell you. I think you’re the one who doesn’t understand.” He stood and paced the room, his face flushed. “All this time, the one thing that kept me going was knowing you didn’t have to see the things I’ve seen. That I could trust that you were safe, waiting for me, while I dealt with this hell. Don’t you get how it comforted me, knowing you were in Panthea, away from this mess?” He stopped moving and stared at her, the anger fading from his eyes. “And now you tell me you’ve been in danger this whole time. That I could have lost you and not even known?” His voice cracked.
Guilt doused her anger, leaving her shaking and ashamed. Not for what she’d done, but for not finding a way to tell him. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I wish I’d found you sooner. If we’d gotten to work together more, you’d know I don’t need protecting. I’m stronger than you think.”
His eyes were sad when he said, “But you shouldn’t have to be strong. I’m supposed to be there for you. I’m supposed to take care of you.”
Tentatively, she stepped closer and reached for him. “We can take care of each other. Those things you’ve seen—that I’ve seen—we’ll carry them together.”
With a shuddering sigh, he buried his face in her neck. “I can’t believe you’re really here, Aris. I’ve missed you so much.”
She sagged against him, exhausted. Overwhelmed. In that moment, all she wanted to do was forget. Forget the last few months and go back to that night on the beach and be her old self again. “I missed you, too,” she whispered against his chest.
His arms tightened around her and his lips found hers.
It was the kiss she’d imagined, yearned for in the months they’d been apart. It was salty with her tears, and it was desperate and deep. Calix’s hands grasped her waist and pulled her closer, and her arms snaked around his neck, and she kissed him so hard she felt sure her lips would bruise.
He pushed against her, twisting until the back of her legs banged against his bed. And then they were falling onto the hard mattress, limbs tangled.
But when his hands brushed the bare skin of her back beneath her tunic, an odd shiver ran through her. Calix stopped kissing her, or she stopped—she wasn’t sure.
“Are you okay?” He looked down at her, his weight pinning her to the bed.
She smiled, a little shakily, and tried to drown in his green eyes. It had always been so easy before. “Of course. Just a little overwhelmed.” She pushed him until he was laying on his back and then snuggled up against his chest. She’d waited so long to feel his arms around her, hear his heart beat loud and steady against her ear.
He ran a hand along her head, the habit of brushing her hair back so ingrained he couldn’t seem to help himself. When his fingers skimmed her neck, she winced. His eyes widened.
“You’re hurt.”
“Just a little bump. It’s fine.”
He sat up, turning her so he could inspect the wound. “It’s not fine. This needs tending.”
“Calix, really. Relax. It’s okay.” She drew away from his probing hands. The gentle touch was making her head ache all over again.
“No, it’s not.” He climbed off the bed and reached out a hand to pull her up. “Come on. I’ll take care of you,” he said. Just like he always did.
Chapter 52
It was well past dinner when they ventured to the large windowless cafeteria. Field menders worked odd hours, so they were permitted to avail themselves of the kitchen as needed. Calix scrounged a couple of packets of stew from a wall of gleaming silver foodsavers and heated them up in the high-speed warmer. They carried their bowls to one of the long white tables in the empty room.
Aris blew on the stew and watched as tendrils of steam curled between them. She smiled, shyly, when she caught him looking at her.
“It is good to see you,” he said. “I miss your hair, though.”
Self-conscious, she pulled the scarf tighter around her bald head, fingers catching on the edges of the bandage at the back of her neck. “It didn’t bother me so much, when the person staring back at me in the mirror was a man. But it’s odd now, to be myself and still have this.”
He smiled. “It’ll grow out. You’ll be your old self in no time.”
She choked on a mouthful of stew.
“Are you okay?” he asked, half-standing, as if he meant to lean over and pound her on the back.
Aris waved him off. “Fine. Sorry.” She coughed. “Just swallowed wrong.”
He sat back on the bench and picked up his spoon, watching her carefully. “You sure?”
She nodded and turned her attention to the food. For a while, they ate in silence.
But it wasn’t a comfortable silence. She kept filling it with unvoiced worries and fears. She kept looking at his face, trying to see the Calix she remembered. Trying to forget that moment in the cave with Major Vidar.
You just need to get to know each other again. Talk to him. She could practically hear Dysis’s voice, coaching her. “So,” she said, clearing her throat. “Remember that move I told you about? The double backflip freeze?” He nodded. “I did it the first time they let me fly. It was amazing.”
“I should have known you wouldn’t really give up flying,” he said ruefully. “You in Panthea . . . I should have guessed.”
“I was in Panthea for a while. That’s where I got the diatous veil, from this terrifying woman with a snake tattoo on her head. For the whole month I was there I couldn’t fly. It was blighting awful.”
“It’s a wonder you survived,” he replied, grinning.
“There was this one mission,” she said, eyes brightening at the thought of Illia. “I had to take an injured flyer to Revening—she was a woman, too—and I thought I was going pass out, the way her leg was broken, all twisted, but—”
“Stop, Aris. Please,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “I don’t want to know. I can’t imagine you out there, in danger. I don’t want to. Please.”
Her hand stilled with a bite of stew halfway to her mouth. “Okay, well . . . tell me about you then,” she said. “How has it been here? You’ve sounded so tired in your comms. Has it been really bad—” but before she’d finished the question, he was shaking his head again.
“Let’s not talk about the war.” He reached across the table to touch her hand. “Anything but that.”
What else is there to talk about?
“I think we should Promise,” he said.
Her eyes flew to his face. “You do?”
“Well, yeah. If that’s what you need to feel comfortable back in Lux without me, then it’s worth it to do it now. I don’t want you out here, risking your life just to be with me. I want you to be safe.”
A Promise. It was exactly what she’d been hoping for when she started all of this. Well, not exactly. She’d im
agined the asking would be more romantic, not so practical. And he wanted her to go home, give up her unit, her flying. She wanted the opposite. She needed to get back out there.
Except that she couldn’t. She wasn’t Aristos anymore.
Dysis’s last words echoed in her mind: “I’ll be looking back for as long as I live. But it doesn’t change who I am.”
Can I really go back? Be the old Aris again? She met Calix’s eyes. He looked so different; it wasn’t just the new thinness of his face, the tired hollows under his eyes. It wasn’t the shaved head, or his skin, paler now without their daily walks on the beach. It was his expression, which reflected a change deep beneath the skin.
“Specialist Haan.” Major Vidar’s voice echoed across the cafeteria.
She stood up automatically and turned to face him, where he had paused just inside the doorway. “Sir?”
“I need you.”
For a split second she wasn’t sure what he meant, and her heart gave a sudden, unwelcome thud.
“We have a new, very important, mission. It must be executed tonight.”
“But, sir. My veil.” She glanced down at Calix, who was frozen in his seat.
“It doesn’t matter. There’s someone we have to find. And it has to be now.” Already Vidar was turning toward the doorway, his body coiled with repressed energy.
“Who, sir? Did Jax give you information?” She walked toward him, searching his face. His urgency was contagious; she could feel her own muscles tensing.
He lowered his voice, so only she could hear him. “We have to save the Ward of Ruslana.”
Her mouth dropped open. “The . . . Ward? But she’s fine. She just spoke on the news today. I saw it when I was waiting to see Jax.”
His face hardened. “Another statement on how she’s renewed trade with Safara? Supplying them with money and guns in the war?” His eyes were cold. “Whoever that woman is, she’s not the Ward.”
Aris didn’t understand what he was saying. “Who else could she be?”
“Lieutenant Latza saw a woman at the prison, someone being kept separate from the other prisoners. Her face was bandaged but her voice was clear.”
The Diatous Wars 1: Rebel Wing Page 23
