Betrayals in Spring (The Last Year, #3)

by Trisha Leigh

  “Fine. If you want to risk everything by walking straight into the Others’ nest with some half-baked plan, just tell me when and where.” He stomps from the cabin, slamming the front door so hard the floor shakes.

  I sink into the battered recliner, dropping my head into my hands and massaging my temples. Pax’s olive skin and bright blue eyes fill up my vision when I find the energy to look up, and for a moment we simply stare at each other.

  “I should talk to Lucas.”

  He puts a hand on my knee and squeezes. “Don’t. Leave him be; he’ll come around. He’s frustrated. We all are.”

  The way he says we’ll convince him, as though Pax and I are on one team and Lucas another, rasps over my skin like an itchy blanket—something I’ve become familiar with over these long months of sleeping under borrowed bedding. Pax must mistake the look on my face for something other than annoyance and walks his hands up to mine, pulling me to my feet and toward him.

  My whole body stiffens, even though he’s a nice temperature and not cold like Lucas. And even though it’s not the same as before, when some invisible force seemed intent on yanking us together, being able to lean on him relaxes me in his arms for a moment.

  It doesn’t take long to find the willpower to push away from his hug, then look him straight in the eye while the scent of apples and smoke cling to my clothes.

  He reads my face for a moment as though it’s a favorite book filled with worn pages, then Pax’s mouth pulls down into a frown. “I should have realized you and Winter would have time to get reacquainted while I was nearly dying.”

  “Are you kidding me? I’ve been worried sick, and Lucas is angry about us not trying to find him sooner. Everything’s a mess, Pax. I can’t handle anything more than figuring out how I can get some sleep tonight. Everything else…I can’t even think about it.”

  I’m lying, because during the long hours without sleep I do think about the two of them. But the bottom line is that we need one another, and so even if Lucas’s potential change of heart regarding our rightful place wasn’t stopping me, even if I could find the courage to believe in a future, I couldn’t be with him. I can’t afford to lose either of them. Not as far as this fight is concerned, and not as far as my heart is concerned, either.

  Pax nods slowly, the intensity on his face making way for resignation. “It’s changed, hasn’t it? It’s kind of…gone.”

  “What’s gone?” My heart trips. I know what he’s referring to but didn’t think it would be so obvious.

  “The pull between us. At least, on your side.” Although I doubt he means for it to, the doorway where Lucas disappeared catches Pax’s interest.

  I shake my head, bothered all over again by the idea that Lucas and I have changed too much to ever be more than we are now, tentative allies. More than that, I’m troubled that if Pax assumes Lucas and I are together and we don’t need him, he’ll run away again.

  “Pax, stop. Everything has changed. It’s all different. And the world is going to end if we can’t find a way to stop it. So that’s it. We’re all friends. Especially now.”

  “It could have been different, you know.”

  Heat swells my heart, diffusing warmth through my limbs. It’s not like before—it doesn’t set my veins thrumming with need—but I do care for him. Not only because I need him to fight the Others, but because Pax gave me something last winter that I’ll never lose: my confidence. And for a while I thought maybe we could turn that attraction into something deeper, that my feelings for Pax could turn into more than desire. Until I saw Lucas again. “I know.”

  Pax retreats, easing back onto the couch, resignation written across his face. After a moment his easy smile returns, and he jerks a thumb toward the front door. “When Winter gets back we’ll figure out what to do.”

  His words leave me disoriented. Honestly, I never expected to love or be loved in my entire life. The whole idea of love is still new too me; it’s overwhelming and hurts my stomach at the same time that it warms my heart. Perhaps I’m being selfish, thinking they could both be mine in different ways.

  My mind and body tangle into such a hopeless knot of emotions that I’d run straight into Kendaja’s crazy, spindly arms if it meant this would all sort itself out.

  ***

  We come up with a course of action, and when Pax insists he can hold up his end of the deal two days later, we decide not to wait. Sleep insisted last night, but I don’t remember anything so it must have been deep and dreamless enough to keep me protected. Or maybe my wall remains solid enough to hold out Zakej and his terrible sister. I’d guess the former. It’s been a week now and the Others are nothing if not efficient.

  “So, we go straight to Summer’s and use our powers to disable whoever is there and erect her a good barrier using our three elements, then we run like Wolf after a squirrel.” Pax stops, waiting for Lucas and my assent.

  He gets a nod from me but nothing from Lucas, who grudgingly agreed that the three of us together with our powers could probably handle three or four Others. If there are more than that, we’re simply going to get out. Pax rolls his eyes at Lucas’s silent dissent. I step in between them, grasping their hands and linking the three of us together.

  We go still. Lucas’s cold right hand grips my left tighter than necessary, and after a moment a feeling like freezing water flows up my arm and pools in my chest. Pax’s fingers lace with mine, warmth like sweet sunshine coursing from him and mixing in my center. I can feel the now familiar sensation of my own heat licking outward into the boys, but I’m not weakened by its loss. Instead, the combination of our three powers increases my own strength. With my eyes closed, I focus all of that energy on my sinum, and when I open them, we’re all inside.

  It’s empty except for the battered but still locked trunk in the corner. Boot prints mark the dirt floor, dozens of pairs, proof that my instinct about my sinum being unsafe was correct. The wall I constructed from bricks and gray goop has disappeared as though it never existed.

  The sound of voices and scuffling shoes draw my attention, and an instant later a Warden peers into my sinum.

  Another jumps to his side after a shout, but we’re too fast. We were expecting them to be here, and they’re surprised. It gives us the advantage we’d hoped for.

  Pax reaches out a hand, shooting a gust of air so strong it lifts the Other off his feet and slams him into the wall with a sickening crunch. When Pax lowers his arm, the Other’s body slumps to the ground. Pax stumbles a little, as though the blast of power took too much out of his barely recovered body.

  The three of us turn to the second Other, who hasn’t moved. He puts his hands up and slides to the floor, propping his back against the dirt in the hallway, then glances expectantly between Pax and me. “I surrender. Don’t melt me or anything. Please.”

  It’s hard to tell them apart, or to believe they are different from one another in any significant way, but this is an Other I’ve met before. I step lightly out of my sinum, peeking around the corner to see if it’s a trap, but the corridors are empty. A few more paces toward the second Warden confirm my suspicions.

  It’s Natej, the Other that Pax and Griffin captured in the woods. The one Greer loves enough to stay locked, forgotten, in a cell.

  He must see the recognition on my face, because he smiles. “We meet again, daughter of Fire. I suspected we might.”

  “Shut up.” Whether Greer loves him or not, I certainly don’t trust him.

  Lucas raises his eyebrows at me. “You two know each other?”

  “Pax introduced us, in a manner of speaking.” I give Lucas a smile in an attempt to make light of this situation, which seems to have gone too easily in our favor. “The question is, what do we do with him now?”

  The plan was to disable the Others guarding my alcove, but I don’t have it in me to hurt this one since he’s not an immediate threat.

  “His name is Natej,” the Other interjects, sticking out a hand toward me like he�
�s offering to shake as part of the introduction.

  It’s brave of him to be willing to touch any of us, and for a moment I consider being polite. I decide against it, in the end, mostly because I’m unwilling to drop either Pax’s or Lucas’s hand to do so. Instead I squint at him, avoiding direct contact with his black gaze in case he’s trying to trick me long enough to dig claws of pain into my mind.

  “Why aren’t you fighting us?” I demand.

  “Because I’d lose.”

  “Because you’ve already mentally summoned the rest of your race of locusts, you mean,” Pax spits at his former captive.

  Natej shrugs. “Believe what you’d like.”

  “Shut up,” I tell the Warden again.

  The four of us listen in silence. The sounds of pounding boots and shouted orders don’t come after several minutes and I decide he’s telling the truth. I don’t know why he’s helping us, or if he actually is, but we don’t have time to figure it out right now. I drop the boys’ hands and stand in front of my little sinum. The trunk with our secret—the knowledge that we can unveil humans—tucked inside catches my eye, and for a moment I think it would be better to move it to Lucas’s or Pax’s alcove. Then I realize that’s silly. It’s not actually in a trunk in this hive, it’s in my head, and I can’t remove it. It’s mine to bear, and Pax’s and Lucas’s. We can’t pass it off.

  Pax may not be at full strength, but he’s better than the last time we built a barrier. Since he nearly blew that Other into pieces, I’m worried he might be depleted, but when he catches my glance, Pax smirks. “I’ve got as much as you need, Summer.”

  Instead of imagining desks or other metal objects, I try something new. At first, nothing but sweat materializes—all over my forehead, down the back of my neck, oozing from my palms—but after a minute or two of concentration, flames sputter to life out of nothing. It doesn’t take long to fill the opening of my alcove with a wall of flickering orange, red, and white fire.

  Pride, an unfamiliar sensation, pastes a smile on my face. Pax and Lucas step forward together; a layer of swirling air goes on next to continually feed the flames, then a waterfall spills from above the doorway, freezing solid as it hits the floor.

  Potent relief trembles through my limbs. My mind, and our secret, is safe for now.

  “Let’s go,” Lucas demands.

  “Wait.” Pax’s voice commands our attention, and even though the plan was to escape as quickly as possible, I’m curious. “Don’t you wonder where they all are?”

  “Who?”

  Pax rolls his eyes. “Don’t be dense on purpose, Winter. The Others. Why are there only two here guarding Althea’s sinum?”

  “They are attending a rather unprecedented emergency,” Natej interrupts, still on his rear with the back of his tan-and-black Warden uniform pressed up against the tunnel wall. His voice caresses my ears, tickling like a pleasant low hum. It urges me to trust him, to say okay to whatever he proposes, but good sense snaps me out of the trance after a second. I frown at him. “It’s a trap, right? Why would you help us or tell us anything?”

  Natej’s arrogant grin slips at the corners, turning into something haunting and edged with lament. “Greer can be very persuasive.”

  “Who is Greer?” Lucas demands, obviously more than a little annoyed to be in the dark.

  It’s not the Other’s answer but the sorrow etching lines on his face that stops me. For the first time in my almost seventeen years, individuality emerges from inside these alien beings and tugs not on my fear, but my empathy. Without taking my eyes off Natej, I answer Lucas. “I’ll tell you later.”

  “Let’s have him take us where the Others are gathered so we can find out what’s going on.” Pax, always impatient, shifts from foot to foot.

  “That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard. That’s probably what they’re telling him to do, to convince us he wants to help so he can deliver us like dinner,” Lucas shoots back.

  I wave my hand at them both and they fall silent, still shooting disgusted looks at each other. I narrow my gaze on Natej. “No, we’re not going anywhere. You’re just going to show me.”

  Without a protest, Natej offers his arm. Before either boy can stop me, I grab it, and the tunnel, Pax, and Lucas all disappear. It’s a little bit like traveling, at first, being one place and then another with no way to get my bearings in between, and wisps of panic curl into my muscles. Then the darkness recedes and, even though I’m alone, I get a handle on my rising alarm.

  I’m inside the room where they tortured me the first time. The pain had been unbearable, but now I know the mental pain is nothing compared to what they can inflict in person.

  Nevertheless, the sight of this place pounds terror into my heart. I force myself to calm down, to remember that I’m not here, I’m inside Natej’s mind and he’s linked in to these proceedings.

  The Prime sits at the front of the room, his despicable children on his right and left. The sight of three of the Elements surprises me; Apa, Lucas’s father, is missing, but the rest huddle in separate cages behind the Prime’s seat, looking miserable and shocked. For the first time, my mother appears wan and too thin, no longer the blazing beauty that nearly blinds me when she smiles.

  The sight of their stunned features is enough to make me wonder if I want to know what’s happened. Others pack the bleachers, each situated in their own seat, but some of the spaces are empty. The last time I was here it didn’t occur to me to spend much time studying the audience, but now that I’m not focused on pain, they interest me. They’re not solid but kind of glimmering, and it looks as though they’re separated by something more than a seat. Perhaps since this is a mental meeting, their likenesses are projected from their own alcoves.

  The Prime’s voice distracts me from my musing. Worry snags his normally pleasant tenor. “We’ve encountered an issue that may prevent us from staying on Earth much longer.”

  My heart lifts. If they’re going to leave then all of this could be over.

  Then Cadi’s warning rings in my mind, and I remember that when the Others abandon Earth, they’ll leave behind an atmosphere so out of balance that the planet won’t be able to survive. I think about Deshi, about Griffin and Greer and Cadi.

  As much as I’d like to be free of my pursuers, this is not the way. They aren’t supposed to go yet, not before we’ve devised a way to get back the people—beings—we love. Not before we’ve learned to nurture our powers into abilities we can use to set the planet back to right.

  Behind the Prime, the Elements keep their eyes trained obediently on the ground. Are they saddened by what has happened? Have they failed somehow?

  “One of the traitorous Elements has taken another step away from us, his people, in favor of the weak-minded human beings that inhabit this planet. Earlier tonight, Apa attempted to take his own life.”

  The statement doesn’t make any more sense to the Others in the room than it does to my ears. At least, that’s what I’m guessing based on the loud murmurs that tumble through the air as haphazardly as little kids rolling down a grassy hill.

  Silence returns as the Prime lifts a hand, looking more tired than I’ve ever seen him. “The conditions on Earth will deteriorate rapidly without his assistance at the Harvest Site. We’ll have to leave within the week if he does not regain consciousness.”

  I’ve never heard the term Harvest Site, and he gives no further explanation. The word harvest isn’t new, though. Could it be where they’re extracting their life-sustaining substance from Earth?

  “Why would he do such a thing?” The question comes from the back, from a male Other who looks like all the rest. Kendaja is the lone female in the room, besides my mother, but I know more exist.

  Fire’s eyebrows raise slightly at the question, as though she’s wondering whether or not the Prime will give an honest answer.

  He pauses, then presses his lips into a thin line. “We don’t know for sure, since he has not woken since the incident,
but we believe he did it in order to save his son.”

  Black clouds press into the edges of my vision. Apa’s suicide attempt has something to do with Lucas?

  “Apa believes that if he is gone, we will be forced to accept his son into our ranks in his place, which will prevent us from disposing of the unauthorized child.”

  “Go get the boy Water, let me daddy I’ll be nice so nice, just play nice, Kendaja,” the girl whispers as she twirls toward her father, fingers outstretched in a give me motion like a small child begging for candy.

  But she’s begging for Lucas.

  The Prime gives only the smallest frown indicating he has heard her, then places a steely gaze on his son. “You will take your sister and go to Rapid City. We can’t risk losing Pamant’s boy, not now. The rest of us will go to the Harvest Site and see what can be done about the situation.” He slides a glance toward his still trembling daughter. “She may have a point. Not for the first time.”

  Before I can find out what they’re going to decide about Apa and Lucas, I’m yanked out of the meeting room and back into the dark corridor. Pax and Lucas are each holding one of my forearms, matching concern crinkling their brows.

  “Why did you do that?” I need to hear more, to figure out what to tell Lucas, or if we can use their problem to our advantage.

  “You looked like you were going to pass out.” Lucas reaches toward my face but stops, snatching his hand back to his side.

  “He’s right.” For once, Pax and Lucas agree.

  Only Natej appears unconcerned. He peers at me with those bottomless eyes, as though he’s expecting to find some kind of answer in the depths of my blue ones. Even though the ache in my brain urges me to look away, reminds me he could cause me massive pain should he suddenly change his mind about helping, I stare back. After a moment he stands up and walks across the corridor, toeing the still unconscious guard.

  “You all should get going.”

  “But you never told us exactly what’s going on, why no one but you two were guarding Althea.” Lucas crosses his arms with the unspoken demand for answers, even though he was the one who wanted to leave without asking any additional questions.