A Radiant Sky abd-3

by Jocelyn Davies

  “I know we’re fighting against each other now. In some ways, I think we’ll always be fighting against each other. But I just want you to know that when you inspired me to jump, it was the best thing that ever happened to me. You showed me that I needed to break away. I couldn’t have done that without you.” He looked nervous. Maybe as nervous as I felt. “I don’t know. Maybe I needed to hurt you like that in order to realize how bad it was. How much I needed to be free.”

  When I had gone to Devin for help when he was still a Guardian, there was always something holding him back. Something in his eyes that, I knew, meant there was a disconnect between what he said and what he felt. It was why my feelings were always so unresolved after I spent time with him. Who was the real Devin? What was really behind those eyes? I wondered if I would soon find out. A light burned in him that I’d never seen before. A different Devin sat next to me.

  “Let me get this straight,” I said slowly, puzzling it out. “You’re saying you’re glad you hurt me?”

  “I’m saying I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to do any of it. And that’s why I jumped. I was choosing freedom.” He looked up, and his deep blue eyes were oceans. “I can finally feel. I can feel everything for the first time. I hate myself for everything I’ve done. And I’m going to do everything I can, everything that’s in my power, to make it up to you.”

  I swallowed. I had absolutely no idea how to respond. Running into a burning building, I could handle. But this?

  “I’m a Rebel now, Skye.” He grinned, and it lit up his face in a way I’d never seen. “I can break the rules if I want.” The meaning behind his words was clear: Asher isn’t the only one.

  “You talk a big game, Devin,” I said when I’d finally found my voice again. “But you never put your money where your mouth is.”

  “Okay. How’s this: That Guardian with the long hair? Lucas? Look out for that one. He’s bad news. Ruthless and dangerous.”

  “What?” I said. “How do you know?”

  “He’s very highly regarded in the Order. Used to be trusted, ranked right below me and Raven. And now . . .” He trailed off.

  “Now he’s the one stealing car brakes?”

  Devin winced. “Exactly.”

  While we were talking, the sun rose higher in the sky. I had to get back. The house would be waking up, wondering where I was, and after last night I didn’t want them to worry. Besides, we had work to do today.

  “I have to go,” I said, standing up. “Thank you. For the apology. I’m not sure how I feel about it, but . . .”

  “That’s okay.” He brushed off my excuse. “The important thing is that I got to say it.”

  I nodded to myself and then made my way back toward the trail.

  “Did you know?” he called suddenly as I began to jog away. I stopped and turned back to him. “Tell me the truth.”

  “Did I know what?”

  “What Asher was planning? What the Rebellion wanted to do to me?”

  There was something so strange about the moment, so heartbreaking. We were on equal footing now, Devin and I. We had both been betrayed. We both wanted answers. There was a satisfying symmetry to it.

  “Just tell me yes or no.”

  “No,” I said finally. “No, I could never let that happen to someone I cared about.”

  Devin said nothing. I turned and ran the rest of the way down the trail. But I wasn’t running away from something. I was running toward it.

  10

  Aunt Jo stood at the stove, flipping pancakes. She was especially chipper this morning.

  “Don’t forget to put the smiley face with the chocolate chips,” Earth instructed from the table, where she was reading the newspaper. “Dad, what’s Wall Street?”

  “It’s a place that’s very far away from here,” Aaron said warily. He glanced at Aunt Jo, and Aunt Jo grinned at him over her shoulder.

  “Hey, kiddo,” she said as I walked in. “You’re just in time for breakfast! There’s coffee brewing. Extra strong.”

  “Mmm,” I said, grabbing a mug from the cabinet and filling it to the brim. “Did Raven leave already?”

  “She left pretty early. She wanted to get there before everyone else, to scout it out.”

  I took a sip of coffee and scrunched up my face. “It’s too bad Ian can’t come over until after school.”

  Aunt Jo and Aaron exchanged glances, and then looked at me. “Why?” Aunt Jo said cautiously.

  “I didn’t have a chance to tell you this in all the drama of yesterday,” I said. “But Ian thought the name James Harrison sounded familiar. He asked his mom about it.”

  Aaron stood halfway out of his chair. “And?”

  “That was his father’s name. He’s pretty sure there’s a connection. And that would mean . . .”

  “I had a feeling about him,” Aunt Jo said, stacking the pancakes on a plate and sliding it onto the table. She wiped her hands on her apron and took it off, all the while watching me. “I knew he had angelic lineage. But James . . . his father?” She looked at Aaron. “I suppose that timing makes sense. He was very secretive while we were working together. We knew he had a young family, but we had never met them. He kept us so separate. He led two lives, really.”

  Aaron nodded. “Part of why we believed he left was that it was too much of a burden on him, lying to them about what he was doing. His wife didn’t know, and his son was so young. Must’ve been around your age, Skye.”

  “So it makes sense.” I took another sip of coffee. “But he left Ian and his mom then, too. If it was a burden on him to lie to them, why would he leave?”

  The kitchen was quiet.

  “Good job on these pancakes,” Earth said from behind the newspaper.

  After breakfast, Aaron suggested that Earth go watch TV upstairs.

  “But TV rots your brain! Can I go play outside, Dad? Please?”

  Aunt Jo stared at Aaron. “Okay, seriously, what parenting manual did you use, and can I have it?”

  “Hey,” I said, “standing right here!”

  Aaron patted Earth on the head. “It’s not safe out there right now, Trouble. Go on up and watch some television. I think your brain will be safe for a couple hours this afternoon.”

  She trudged reluctantly up the stairs.

  I brought down everything I’d taken from the box in the cabin, and we spread the loot across the living room floor. There was the rattle, with Sk and my birthdate engraved into the tarnished silver. A stuffed dog that looked like it had spent the better part of six years sleeping in the crook of my arm. A series of drawings and amateurish watercolors I’d apparently done as a kid. They were all signed in big blue letters in the corner: SKY.

  “It took you a while to figure out that your name had an ‘e’ at the end of it. That you weren’t actually named after the sky.” Aunt Jo smiled a little wistfully at me. The drawings depicted several tall people, with large swirls and curlicues in a rainbow of colors surrounding them. I knew exactly what they were. I could almost hear myself at six. . . .

  Those are their powers.

  It struck me again how unfair it was that I wasn’t allowed to remember any of this. And yet, small things, snippets of memory, were seeping back. Maybe the longer I had powers of my own, the more they would counteract the ones my mother had used on me as a child.

  I’d also brought down the artifacts I’d found the first time I’d visited. The notebook Aunt Jo had kept during their time in the cabin—and the shoebox that I’d discovered in Aunt Jo’s closet, that held the remaining pages she’d ripped out and kept, among other things. When I pulled out my father’s old, moth-eaten fisherman’s sweater, Aaron’s eyes grew wide.

  “My sweater!” he cried. “I must have forgotten it when I left.”

  “This—this is yours?” I asked. My stomach sank. This whole time, I’d been thinking it was my father’s. It was the only piece of physical evidence I had to connect me to him. Growing up, I always thought it was so sad and s
trange that I had nothing that belonged to my parents—no pictures, no evidence that they had ever existed. Now I understood why. If they were being hunted, if they wanted to keep me safe, and if they wanted to protect me from the knowledge of who I really was, of course they could leave nothing behind that might trace me to them. This whole time, I’d thought they were depriving me. In reality, they were protecting me.

  “Yeah, I wore that ratty old sweater straight through the winter before Sam and Meredith—” He cut himself off quickly and looked away. “Before we all parted ways. You can keep it, if you want. I’m not sure it will really provide any clues for where to find James, though.”

  I folded it up and put it aside. Aunt Jo was thumbing through the notebook, and Aaron was going through the shoebox. When he pulled out the photograph of him and Aunt Jo against the tree, I watched something change in his face.

  “You kept this?” he asked.

  She blushed and nodded. “Yeah, well. You can see I don’t throw much out.”

  He continued sifting through the box and came up with the little black velvet case that held the ring. He glanced at Aunt Jo, but she was suddenly busy examining something she’d written ages ago in her notebook. Aaron slipped the ring into his pocket without a word.

  I coughed. “Is there anything here that might give us any idea of where James went? Or even why he left?”

  “I know why he left,” Aaron said quietly.

  “Aaron—” Aunt Jo looked up. “You don’t.”

  “I’m pretty sure I do. If we want to find him, isn’t it important to get everything out in the open?”

  “Get what out in the open?” My heart began to beat faster. If they had any information about where he could be, then we were one step closer to reuniting the three of them. And then I could focus on using my visions to find the fourth.

  “The night he left,” Aunt Jo said quietly, “we had a fight. The three of us did. Your parents didn’t know about it.”

  “What was it about?” I asked.

  “Aaron and I were spending a lot of time together,” she said.

  “He was jealous,” Aaron said darkly.

  “We don’t know that,” said Aunt Jo. “But he did think we were spending too much time together, that we were losing our focus on the mission and weren’t strong enough to call the Rogues. He also said it was throwing off the balance of power between the three of us.”

  “Do you think that’s true?” I asked.

  “Who really knows?” said Aaron. “I always suspected . . .”

  “Aaron, please.”

  “What?” I asked. “What did you suspect?”

  Aaron looked out the window. “I thought he was in love with your aunt,” he muttered. “It got to be too much for him, so he left. Left his family, too. Just went completely off the grid.”

  “Whoa. That would explain a lot, right?”

  The two of them nodded.

  “I don’t know that’s really what it was, though, Skye,” Aunt Jo said. “I have no way of knowing if he was.” She sighed. “I just know that love can make you do a lot of stupid things.”

  It can sway the outcome of a war, Ardith had said once. I never put that much stock in the power of love, but I was beginning to think she was right.

  “So where does that leave us?” I asked. “Where could James be?”

  “Anywhere,” said Aaron. “He could be anywhere.”

  “I’ll talk to Ian,” I offered. “See if he or his mom knows anything more.”

  “It’s worth a shot,” said Aunt Jo. “But if we don’t know, it’s not very likely that they will. He was such a private person. Kept so much from all of us.”

  I sighed. “I need to go be alone for a little bit,” I said. “Think about some things.”

  “Go ahead, hon. We’ll be here.”

  I went up to my room and closed the door. I figured if I thought hard enough, I could make something happen, put the rest of the puzzle pieces together. James. The fourth Rogue. I tried not to let the pressure get to me. I tried to forget that I had to figure all this out before these attacks culminated in something bigger, some collision between the Order and the Rebellion that would destroy us all. I didn’t have much time left.

  Then I noticed something on the floor by the backpack I’d taken on our camping trip: a small box made of polished wood—about the size and shape of an index card. It must have fallen out when I was gathering up my finds to take downstairs. I tucked it into the band of my running shorts and slid out my window onto the roof.

  A spring breeze ruffled my hair and kissed my cheeks. I couldn’t help but remember how cold and barren the field below me had been all winter. Then, I’d stared out at a bleak white sky and watched as a flock of birds took off from the treetops, the rush of hundreds of wings echoing in my ears. But now the sky was bluer, the treetops greener, and the birds were coming—not going.

  I took out the box and studied it. The wood was a dark, rich hue, polished to a shine. It struck me as weird—everything else that I’d salvaged from the cabin was showing signs of age, decay. The wooden box was as polished and shiny as it might have been on the day it was made.

  Strangely, the wood appeared to be all one piece—with no grooves or hinges where it might open. There was a keyhole in the front, but no actual key. I shook it and heard something lightweight flutter within.

  There was a design etched into the lid—or what should have been the lid. An old-fashioned key, with an elaborate top that swooped out in four intertwining loops—like a four-leaf clover.

  The whole box looked like some sort of strange puzzle. If it was left with other personal items in the cabin, then it must have belonged to my parents, or to the Rogues they were working with. It was clear that whoever it had belonged to didn’t want just anybody to discover its contents.

  I put my hand on the engraving, and it glowed silver beneath my fingers. And then, before my eyes, the silver became solid, real metal—and I found myself holding a key.

  Like it was meant for me.

  The key fit into the lock perfectly. I held my breath as it clicked, and the top of the box slid sideways.

  Resting inside was a single piece of paper folded many times into a tight square. I couldn’t stop my fingers from trembling slightly as I unfolded it to reveal a page filled from top to bottom with cramped, tight script. My heart expanded like ink in water when I saw how it began:

  Dear Skye,

  I’m writing you this letter, my sweet girl, because I don’t know what else to do. We are in danger. Your father and I have made a risky mistake, and we are being watched. Followed. If I’m being truthful with you, I don’t think we’ll make it through another week.

  But you will. They won’t kill you. You hold the key to breaking them, and they’ll do whatever they can to harness that power. You’re not ready for it now. I can’t put you in the position of having to save the world just yet. I can hardly let you wander off by yourself for two seconds, Skye, without worrying! But one day, your powers will grow to be stronger than any angel’s before you. And the great task—a burden, and an honor—will be asked of you. It was the thing we could never accomplish, because it wasn’t time yet. But for you—for you, it will be time.

  Of course, you know none of this. I’ve made certain of that. I hope that one day, when you read this letter, you’ll understand that I kept you in the dark out of love, and protection, and for no other reason.

  There will be a time when you come looking for answers. Even though I am no longer with you, I promise you, my little silver clover, that I will tell you everything you need to know.

  All you have to do is ask.

  Love,

  Your Mama

  Only when I looked up and the colors of the world were blurred around me did I realize I was crying.

  After school, everyone came over.

  Cassie was, predictably, thrilled that we had found Aaron and Earth, and ecstatic that they’d come to join us after all.


  “I’m telling you, Skye,” she said with a wink. “Epic love is always reunited.”

  “What’s it like to be in your head?” I asked. “Is it rainbows and puppies, all the time?”

  “Mm-hmm.” She grinned mischievously. “Labradoodles.”

  “Well,” I said, “just because Aaron is back doesn’t mean he and Aunt Jo are, like, back together or anything. And it definitely doesn’t mean that all epic love is reunited.”

  “No word from Asher, huh?”

  My stomach suddenly lurched. It had been him at the fire, hadn’t it? It was possible I’d made it up, hallucinated him because I wanted so badly to see him again. But his silhouette was unmistakable against the dancing flames.

  Had it been a message for me? A sign?

  Or—a more troubling thought occurred to me—had he been involved in starting it? If he was fighting with the Rebellion—no. I put that thought out of my head as soon as it popped in.

  “No word yet,” I said.

  “Don’t worry, Skye,” she whispered, putting her arm around my neck and pulling me tightly to her. “You guys will find a way. I could never believe anything else.”

  I wanted to believe it, too, that Asher and I would find a way to be together. But I’d been hurt and betrayed too many times to believe in love with much certainty. I couldn’t believe anything anymore—unless I had proof.

  We rejoined the group in the living room. Cassie’s hair was woven into an elaborately braided masterpiece, and when she sat down on the floor, Earth, who seemed to have a hair fixation, begged her for something similar.

  Cassie braided away, and I filled the group in on what was going on.

  “You guys heard about the fire on Main Street last night?” I began. “It was an attack on Into the Woods.”

  “The Order?” Ian asked sharply.

  “No. It was the Rebellion, this time.” I took a deep breath. “This is going to be hard to hear, but I have to tell you, so that you stay safe. We think they’re trying to pick off my friends and family, to isolate me. Then they can take me away and use my powers to defeat the Order.”

  “And what about the Order?” Ian asked. “What are they planning?”