by Walsh, Sara
“It’s flying with two,” he replied between breaths. “Give me a second and I’ll be fine.”
“Take as long as you need. I’d be dead if not for you. Or in front of the Suzerain. Or . . .”
He looked up. Some of the blackness had already faded from his eyes. His wings lowered. They softly swept the ground. Looking at him this way, my heart skipped a beat. I didn’t care that the bell tolled or that windows overlooked us on all sides. I saw only Sol. I finally saw him complete. He was beautiful.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, dropping my hand from his shoulder.
“I thought it best to stay quiet after the way you handled the whole ‘king’s son’ thing.”
“That little thing?”
“Yes,” he said. “That.”
His breaths now normal, the black still fading from his eyes, he shook his head. “I’m Beseye, Mia,” he said.
“But not rarefied.”
“Few are. The Beseye were the first to abandon the pure lines and mingle with other beings.”
I glanced at his wings. “But . . . a bird?”
Hands on his thighs, he took a couple more deep breaths. “The Lunestral was a bird in form only. It was a spirit, a force of nature. The Beseye were communicators and their strong senses allowed them to link with those spirits, the spirits of animals, beasts.”
“And the Lunestral’s spirit entered all of them?”
“Some,” he said. “Other Beseye linked with different spirits—spirits from the sea, the forests, the mountains. This all happened thousands of years ago. A spirit bond sometimes skips generations only to reappear years later. But my family’s line has always run strong with the Lunestral’s blood.”
“Which is why you have those gorgeous wings.”
It should have been weird to be kneeling with a guy whose very being was linked to another creature, whose wings carpeted the ground behind him. But it wasn’t. Bird. Man. Whatever. It didn’t matter to me—this was how he was supposed to be. The Sol from before had been perfect. Now he was more than perfect, more than the mythological creature from the book he’d loaned to me, more than simply the king’s son.
I kissed him before he could say anything more. I tried to put everything I wanted to say into that kiss. I didn’t have any words left that could explain what he meant to me. He was my dark light.
His hands grazed my face, my hair, my neck. Needing us to be closer, I crawled onto his lap, holding him so tight I wasn’t sure I could ever let go. His skin bare beneath my hands, I felt his muscles beneath his wings, the feathers caressing my fingers as I stroked his smooth, tight skin.
Sol responded to my touch with increasing fervor. Raising himself up on his knees, he held my body in an unbreakable hold. His lips moved to my ear and then my throat. This felt so right. My hands entangled in his hair, I knew we had to stop, but stopping was hard when Sol’s every touch led to the promise of more and more and more.
“THEY LANDED OVER HERE!”
Then we stopped. It was a man’s voice that had called.
My face hot, my breathing shallow, I pulled away slightly. “Where did that come from?” I whispered into Sol’s ear.
Sol didn’t move. His lips lingering beneath my jaw, the side of his face pressed to mine, I felt his breath on my skin as he spoke. “The next street, I think,” he said.
We scrambled to our feet, checking all around for a sign of the guards. But it wasn’t guards who watched us.
Though I’d not noticed her when we’d landed, across the courtyard sat a woman on a stool washing clothes in a large tin tub. She was older, maybe in her fifties, and was a little rotund with one of those matronly chests that burst out all over and refused to be constrained by anything made by man. Still scrubbing, she looked up to the sky, then looked at Sol. She harrumphed.
“It’s a long time since we’ve seen the Lunestral in Orion,” she said.
Realizing that the woman knew what the wings meant, I glanced at Sol.
“It’s been here,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “Only hidden.”
“THIS WAY!”
“That sounded closer,” I gasped. I grabbed Sol’s arm, knowing we had to move, confused why he stood here humoring some old lady and her laundry.
The woman leaned forward on her stool. “There’s no love for the Lunestral in Orion these days,” she said. “Best put those wings away, lad.”
She was so right. Sol was a dead man if they caught him; he’d fully revealed himself as one of the king’s line.
“SOMEWHERE DOWN THESE STREETS!”
The woman got to her feet. She wiped the suds from the front of her dress. “Get in here.” She jerked a thumb toward the house behind her. “You can hide until they’ve gone.”
With great relief, we slipped into the tiny house, leaving the woman to her laundry and the guards who suddenly swarmed onto the courtyard. We entered into a small, square room. A window, draped with yellowing net curtains, looked out over the street. Safely out of sight, I peered into the courtyard. The guards walked toward the woman, who remained at her tub. She was pointing them toward the neighboring streets.
“She’s sending them away,” I whispered. Relieved, I left my post at the window. “That was too close.”
Sol’s head was bowed. His wings slowly retreated.
“Does it hurt?” I asked.
He nodded. With his head low, he was the image of a fallen angel with the world on his shoulders. I wished there was some way I could lessen his pain.
“And when they come out?”
“Not as much,” he replied.
I crept behind to watch the wings retreat. His muscles twitched and clenched as they clawed them back into his body. About two feet of each remained. As the feathers retracted, they flattened, folding in and over themselves as if a powerful vacuum sucked the air from their vanes. It was clear from this close that pockets on either side of his spine held the wings—his entire physiology different—and that it was the muscles in his back that kept the openings shut. As the gashes slowly closed, I remembered his bloodied shirt on the night of the demon attack in the valley.
“This is why you didn’t come into the den,” I said, as I wandered back to face him. “At Bromasta’s. After you released the decimator that night.”
“Delane didn’t think you were ready to see.”
“He was probably right,” I replied. “And here I was, worried you’d fall off the roof and break your neck.”
He smiled. “I’m good on roofs.”
His transformation complete, we crept back to the window. The woman still talked with the guards and was giving them hell, if her gestures were anything to go by.
“Mia, neither of us wanted to keep things from you,” said Sol. “But you understand why it was better that we did.”
“I understand,” I said. “I just wanted to know you—the real you. I still do.”
“I was born with this blood,” said Sol. “It’s part of who I am.”
“Then you’ve always been this way?”
“Not always,” he said. “The change doesn’t manifest until seven or eight, when the wings begin to develop inside. You’re isolated as soon as the process starts, mainly to counter the other changes that happen then too. Your senses sharpen and it’s disorienting, dangerous for a while. Beseye who share the Lunestral’s line gather when the change is complete. If the wings are strong and true, then the Lunestral’s mark is later applied to the skin.”
“The tattoo.”
“Yes,” he said. “The Lunestral is the mark of my family, and now is also the symbol of the king. But it’s only those with the Lunestral’s blood, those with the wings, who wear the tattoo on their back.”
“Your parents must have been proud when it happened to you,” I said.
“It was expected.”
Out in the courtyard, the guards finally left. The woman headed for the house.
“Here she comes,” said Sol.
The doo
r banged and the woman entered. “Tyrants,” she muttered. “Suzerain? There’s the joke! He’s in every part of our lives. Boil a cabbage and he knows about it.” She brushed past me and then snatched a blue shirt from a chair in the corner. “It’s my son’s,” she said, tossing it to Sol. “It should fit.”
Sol caught the shirt. “I won’t forget this kindness,” he said.
“Not forgetting those of us in Orion is thanks enough.”
“You’re not forgotten,” said Sol.
Another harrumph from the woman and it was back to business. “Which way you headed?”
“The Sheffer District,” said Sol, as he pulled on the shirt.
“Then you’re in luck. I sent them off toward Bembam Road. But I wouldn’t hang around too long. They saw you come down. They’re not going to give up their search any time soon.”
Fully dressed, Sol held out his hand. “Thank you.”
The woman glanced at Sol’s hand before wiping her own down the front of her dress. “Here’s a promise,” she said, and proudly tipped back her head. “I’ll shake your hand on the day the Suzerain is dead.”
* * *
Vermillion threw open the front door the second we knocked. “The bells,” she said, ushering us into the safe house. “The guards! We didn’t know if they were for you. I am too old for this! I am too old!”
“I’m glad you made it back safely,” said Sol.
“Yes,” said Vermillion. “Through water and filth and—”
Delane darted out of the kitchen. He snatched me up into his arms. “You are certainly not boring to have around!”
“The kids?” I asked, as soon as my feet touched the ground.
“They’re fine. Go see.”
Alex greeted me with a hug. I’m sure Ben would have too if I could have pried him away from the huge plate of food before him. Color had already returned to his cheeks.
“We have to get Jay,” I said, as soon everyone had gathered in the kitchen.
Sol looked to Alex and Ben, and then quickly glanced around the room. “Where’s Bromasta?”
I paused. I’d been so relieved to be back in one piece, I hadn’t noticed he wasn’t there. I caught a look pass between Vermillion and Delane.
“He’s gone,” said Delane.
“Gone?” I blurted. “You mean he couldn’t even stick around long enough to—”
Delane shook his head. “To the Nonsky Fault.”
Stunned, I pulled back. “Alone?”
“He left as soon as I told him about Jay,” said Delane. “We couldn’t stop him. And now the gates are bolted and they’re not letting anyone in or out. I don’t know what he plans to do, but he rode out just in time.”
What he planned was obvious: a suicide mission. Vermillion had told us the camp was heavily guarded and Bromasta had gone there alone! With Alex and Ben missing from the pit, the Suzerain would know someone had rescued the kids. Every guard under his command would be heading to the fault to secure the other boys. I knew Bromasta had beaten Elias’s demon army, but I was betting he hadn’t done it single-handed. He’d be killed; it was as simple as that. And just when he’d come back into my life.
“We have to go after him,” said Sol.
I agreed.
“But we’ll never get past the gates,” said Delane.
“Then we’ll use the Down Pass,” Sol replied.
Vermillion headed to the jar-lined shelves. “I have a bond key for the pass.”
Delane was still not convinced. “But we’d need horses to reach the fault. We can’t take horses through the Down Pass.”
“Leave the horses to me,” said Vermillion. She returned with the bond key in one hand and a squat black jar in the other. She slammed the jar on the table. “Number six.”
I wasn’t sure who lived in jar number six, but having seen Vermillion’s transformations I trusted she knew what she was doing.
“Do we have more decimators?” I asked, feeding off the energy that sparked in the room. Even Ben had caught the bug. He jiggled at Alex’s side, a hunk of bread clutched in his hand. This was it. We were going for Jay.
“Mia, there’s a box of decimators beneath the shelves,” said Vermillion, pointing toward the jar-filled alcove. “Delane, you’ll find a torch for the pass in the closet beneath the stairs. You’ll need weapons too. Fetch the swords.”
I hurried to the shelves to find a small wooden chest containing decimators. Vermillion handed me a leather pack, which I immediately began to fill with the spells.
My heart pounded, but this time it wasn’t from fear. It was excitement, exhilaration. I couldn’t wait to see Jay! But even more so, I was proud. Bromasta Rheinhold—my father—had raced off to save his only son, even though he must have known he’d stand no chance against a camp filled with sentinels.
Delane burst back into the room, having retrieved the swords from the upstairs bedroom. There was a torch wedged beneath his arm. “What about the boys?” he asked.
I glanced over to Ben and Alex, who hovered by Sol’s side. A sinking feeling entered my gut. One of us would have to stay behind to watch them, and it was pretty obvious who that someone would have to be. We needed Vermillion to use the bond key for the pass and to find us horses. Sol and Delane were the muscle. That left me.
Sol took his sword from Delane and then looked back to where I lingered at the shelves. “We’ll take the boys with us,” he said.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I exclaimed. “It’s too dangerous.”
Sol’s brow lowered. The lines on his forehead deepened as he frowned. I noticed that the room had fallen silent.
“We have the Solenetta,” he said. “We’ll find Jay and the other boys, then use it to open the Barrier weakness at the fault and get you all back to the Other Side.”
I could feel Delane watching me. Vermillion, too. Sol was serious. Of course he was serious. Why would we wait even a second longer in Brakaland when the chance for me and the boys to escape was staring us in the face? I’d known this moment was coming—it was all I’d wanted when I’d stepped through that wall of light what seemed like a million years ago. But now?
“What about Bordertown?” I asked, my voice caught somewhere in the back of my throat. I couldn’t look at anyone but Sol.
“Mia, we won’t make it back to Bordertown,” he said. “Especially not with the boys. This is your chance to go home.”
Vermillion and Delane hurried the boys out of the room. Sol and I stared at each other, at an impasse. He was right. Bordertown? We’d never make it. The time to escape Brakaland was now and the key to opening the Barrier hung around my neck. But somewhere inside me, my heart clung to the time I might have with Sol on the journey back to the Ridge. During those days we could have talked, explained to each other how we felt, and then said a long and fitting good-bye before the Barrier closed behind me. In my mind, it was all planned. But not like this.
Delane poked his head back into the room, breaking the tension. “We have to go,” he urged, “before Elias sends more guards.”
Sol hastily left the room, leaving me with Delane.
“This is it!” he said.
“That’s right,” I replied. I reached for my jacket, which Ben had left on the back of his chair. “I’m going home.”
THIRTY
We scurried through Orion to a deserted bazaar close to the city wall, a street of pale stone lined with empty stalls and strewn with crates. A cloaked Vermillion led us to a stall about halfway down.
“The Down Pass was built for smugglers,” she said, checking to make sure we hadn’t been followed. “Usually for bringing things in.” She ducked behind the stall. “Pass me the key, Mia.”
I took the key from the pack and then followed Vermillion. She tossed aside a moldy old rug and knelt by a trapdoor. There was a space for a bond key beside it.
“Delane, light the torch,” she said.
The lock clicked as soon as Vermillion inserted the key. She threw back th
e door to reveal steeply descending stone steps. Delane had been right: We would never have gotten horses down there.
“This is it,” Vermillion said, pocketing the key. “I’ll meet you at the other end.” After ruffling Alex’s hair, she disappeared down the street.
Delane led with the lit torch. I followed with Alex and Ben. Sol, at the rear, closed the trapdoor behind us. We proceeded to file through a long, deep passage. Graffiti covered the walls, most in a language I couldn’t read. There were symbols and motifs, crests and insignias, and some sketches that described only too clearly what the artist really thought of the Suzerain.
I tried to think only of saving Bromasta and Jay, but nothing could drive Sol from my thoughts. Everything between us had only just begun. Now it would end too soon.
I guess we walked for about fifteen minutes, mostly in silence. I responded to the few things Delane said with one-word answers. I didn’t trust myself to say anything more. Ben and Alex seemed to be holding their own, but occasionally I looked back at Sol, barely visible in the shadows at the rear of the pack.
We stopped at another set of steps leading to a second trapdoor. As soon as Delane unlatched the lock, we emerged into what remained of the day. We stood on the outskirts of a wood. Orion was far behind us. Birds sang. It sounded like a funeral dirge to me.
Free of the city, I waited with the boys as Sol and Delane whispered off to the side. It was as if we’d come full circle, back to the days of “Don’t tell Mia.” It no longer mattered. We were on our way to rescuing Jay and that was all I needed to know.
We’d been there for a while when the sound of hooves approached from the west. Worried we’d been followed, I grabbed the boys and pulled them deeper under the cover of the trees. Once they were safely hidden, I crept back to the edge of the wood.
A mounted sentinel, a horse tethered on either side, cantered toward Sol and Delane. Surprisingly, neither raised their swords. It was only when the sentinel reached them and scarlet hair erupted from its bald head that I realized why: This was Vermillion’s number six. The sentinel’s shoulders narrowed, and Vermillion appeared, her long limbs bare beneath the sentinel’s tunic. She dismounted.
