by Amy Braun
“But there isn’t enough time,” he reasoned. He came up behind her and put one hand on her hip and the other on her stomach. It was beginning to bulge, a sign that I was going to be a sister soon. “We have a family to protect.”
My mother turned to face her husband. “You think I don’t know that? You think I’m not terrified for my daughter? I don’t want her to fix our mistake, Joel, but we have to train her. If something happens to us–”
My father cupped her face and looked pleadingly into her eyes. “Don’t say things like that, Deanna. I can’t bear to hear it. It terrifies me.”
She closed her eyes and bowed her head to his chest. His arms curved around her back and held her tight. I watched him close his eyes as he struggled with the obvious fear on his face.
“I’ll leave tomorrow. Maybe I can fix the damage done to the ship. Give it some power so the machine works.”
My mother pulled back so she could look in my father’s eyes. “I’m going with you.”
He shook his head. “Not this time, Deanna. You need to stay here with Claire.” One of his hands slid to her stomach again, running over the growing curve of her belly. “You need to keep our children safe. I need you to be safe.”
His other hand curled around her wrist, holding up the item my mother had been toying with earlier. It was hard to see from where I was crouching, but it looked like a key.
“You have to make sure this will work. It’s the last piece, and Claire needs to know more about what it does.”
My mother smiled. “You believe in me now?” she teased.
My father returned her smile, rubbing her wrist with his thumb. “I never stopped.”
He kissed her forehead and held her close. I turned away and crept back to my room, letting them have their moment together. I was too young to know what they planned for me.
But if I had known that I had just seen my father for the last time, I would have run back into the room and begged him to stay…
I woke from the memory with a jolt. It wasn’t as horrible as some of my other dreams, but I was shaken nonetheless. My hand went to the chain around my neck, sliding down until I gripped the key in a tight fist.
My father had known about it. Referred to it as a piece to a machine he and my mother were building. It had to be related to the Breach closing machine Garnet thought they were creating. But how could it work? I remembered my mother drilling as many engineering lessons as she could into my brain when we weren’t running, getting me to help her make components for devices without telling me what they did, only to take them away so I would never see how they operated. I asked and asked and asked, but was never told anything. How was I supposed to carry on with their work when I didn’t know what I was supposed to be building?
Time hadn’t faded the memories of my parents, who loved me but kept dangerous secrets from me. I hadn’t taken the time to understand my mother’s last words before she was killed. I expected that she was just wanting to motivate me to protect Abby, and that the key was a token to remember her by.
Now I wasn’t so sure. Garnet assumed I had something to do with this machine, and it sounded like it was remaining on the ship my parents had flown in during the Discovery. I had no idea where the ship was, or how I could find it. I didn’t even know what it was called.
And I didn’t have time to find out. Whatever my parents expected me to do with this mysterious machine and the key was important. But not as important to me as Abby’s life.
Though I wasn’t even close to accomplishing that goal. I didn’t know what time it was, but more hours had been spent saving the marauders, being captured, running and avoiding Hellions. Even now, I was resting while Abby was probably being tortured. My mind created awful images of my baby sister in the claws of those ruthless monsters, and I could almost hear her screams as they tore into her flesh, begging me to save her when there was no way I could–
I threw the blanket off of me. I had barely slept, but I couldn’t waste more time. I had to repair the marauder’s ship, then force them to help me. If they didn’t want to strike yet, that was too bad. I’d saved their lives and was about to give them the chance to sail again. They owed me.
And I seriously needed a distraction.
I grabbed my belt and the messenger bag– Gemma didn’t seem to be in a rush to have it returned to her– and walked briskly through the hangar until I was at the Dauntless Wanderer’s side. I climbed the netting until I was back inside the broken ship. I pulled open my torch and set it aside. I could have used more light, but I would work with what I had.
The first step was to clear out the debris inside the broken engine so nothing sharp would disrupt the new additions I’d be making. Then I could start the reconstruction. It would take time, but I figured I could have the entire engine done by tonight. Or by the end of the day. Whatever time it was. I should have done this earlier, but my body gave in to the rest it direly needed. That wouldn’t happen again. Not until I rescued Abby.
Working with the instinct and reflex that came whenever I was fixing or building, I found a sense of peace and calm that I hadn’t felt in what seemed like ages. I worked with the engine and its parts, my hands moving on their own. I never had to question what I was doing. There were no handsome, confusing marauder captains to distract me, and I didn’t have to worry about a sadistic Electrician hounding my every action. It was just me and a broken machine.
I don’t know how long it took to complete the power core and rewire the engine. It must have been a couple hours, but it felt like minutes. Time didn’t mean anything while I was working. I fell into a rhythm, and felt a sense of peace.
Once I was done, I evaluated my work.
I wasn’t able to start the Dauntless, so I had no idea if the parts I used in the repair would maintain their hold once it was running again. My skills were good, but if an interior connection was loose or a component was broken, it wouldn’t fix itself. I would have to go back and start all over again.
The exterior still had fire damage, but it was nothing the bits of scrap metal wouldn’t be able to fix. Most of the old wires had been pulled out to make way for the new ones that were connected to the electron-cell, which was all but humming with energy. All I had to do now was weld it shut–
“Did you finish it?”
I jumped and whirled around, ready to swing at the person behind me. When I saw that it was Sawyer, I uncurled my fist and placed it over my heart.
“Stop doing that,” I scolded, glaring angrily.
Sawyer grinned. “And miss your reactions? I don’t think so, Firecracker.”
He raised his eyebrows as a challenge, waiting for me to tell him off. It surprised me, since I was still expecting him to be angry with me. I gauged the look in his eyes, seeing hints of impatience and some agitation. Apparently he wasn’t forgetting my actions on the tarmac. Just choosing to ignore them.
I sighed and shook my head, wiping my grease marked hands on the cloth I’d pulled from my bag at some point. I didn’t even remember touching it.
Sawyer brushed past me, walking to the engine of his ship. Seeing that the most major component was repaired appeared to have calmed whatever storm had grown over him in the tunnels and nearly exploded on the tarmac. I would have believed he was at peace if I didn’t know it was an illusion.
He pressed his hand on top of the blackened exterior of the engine, bending at the waist to inspect my work.
“It’s all finished?” he asked again without looking back.
“Almost,” I admitted. “The rest of the repairs are aesthetic. They can wait.”
Sawyer nodded absently, still looking in the engine. “Show me how it works.”
“Sawyer,” I started, stopping only because he turned around.
“I’m not going back on my word, Firecracker. But if you don’t take up my offer to join my crew now that Garnet’s dead, I want to know how to fly my ship.”
He said it so callously, without a hint
of remorse. I dropped the cloth into my bag. “Is that all you have to say?”
Sawyer glanced at me. “About what?”
I blinked. “About brutalizing Garnet. Trying to take on those Hellions outside.”
His mouth took an ugly twist. “I didn’t kill him. The Hellions did. And I was going to fight those Hellions to make sure the three of you made it out safe.”
“We wouldn’t have been,” I argued. “They would have cut you down and gone after us.”
Sawyer narrowed his eyes. “They would have tried.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “And they probably would have succeeded. You know as well as I do how deadly Hellions are. One on one, catching it by surprise? Sure, I believe you have a chance. But not against three of them when they see you coming. Especially not that big one that seems to scare you so much.”
I regretted the words almost immediately after I said them. Sawyer’s expression spoke a thousand words. Pain. Betrayal. Anger. I tested him because I was under the assumption that he would never raise a hand to me. Now I doubted that assumption. Sawyer was a pirate with a dark past. The only reason he rescued me from Garnet was because he needed me, just like I had saved him because I needed him.
Watching the rage burn in Sawyer’s eyes, watching him struggle to control the hatred I brought up, it made me realize that I made a huge mistake.
I backed up, running my hands along my belt in search of my pocketknife. Sawyer glanced at my wrist. I froze.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Sawyer said. His voice still held a dangerous rumble. “But don’t pretend that you know me. Don’t even try to. You’re not going to like the answers.”
My hand still wanted to curl around the pocketknife, even if it were for show. Eternity seemed to span between us as we stared each other down. The anger was still clear on Sawyer’s face, but he also looked tired. He wanted to let this go, as he must have done in the past. I relaxed my hand and dropped my head.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” There was a hint of a smile in his voice. “Show me what you did to the engine.”
I dragged my feet until I was standing on the opposite side of the repaired machine. I tilted forward and took a breath. It was going to be a long, complicated explanation, and I was betting the temperamental young captain would get bored fairly quickly.
“What’s that?”
I blinked and raised my head, noticing that Sawyer was no longer looking at the Dauntless’ new engine, but at me. Or more specifically, the key that had dropped out of the collar of my shirt to dangle in front of my chest.
I tucked it back into my shirt, but Sawyer was undeterred. “Does it have something to do with your parents?”
I frowned. “Your rule about keeping the past secret doesn’t apply to me?”
He shrugged, a quick, sly grin crossing his face. “I told you one. If anything, this would make us even.”
A flutter passed through my heart as I remembered him telling me about his dead brother. The kiss that followed. I crossed my arms over my middle and looked down.
“How much did you hear?” I muttered.
Sawyer paused before answering, “Most of it. Sound carried in that tunnel.”
It certainly did. Even now, I could hear Garnet’s screams.
“Are you going to see it through?” he asked. “See if there’s a way to close the Breach?”
“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “The Hellions have been around for so long it seems like they’ve always been part of this world. Abby’s never known a life without them. I’m not saying I want them to stay, but to close the Breach…” I shook my head. “It seems impossible.”
“You survived Garnet and escaped the Hellions. You rescued three marauders and built an airship engine overnight, by yourself. You’re willing to go into the Behemoth to save your sister. Impossible isn’t the word I’d use to describe you.”
I looked up at Sawyer, amazed at the sincerity I saw in his eyes now that he wasn’t letting his past hinder him. His smile was faint, but it was enough to get my heart racing again. I threw reason to the wind. I wanted to trust him. He’d put himself at so much risk for me, how could I not give him a little more faith?
“I’m sorry,” I blurted. I felt my cheeks grow hot against the embarrassment.
“For what?” Sawyer asked curiously.
My shoulders slumped. There was no turning back now. “For everything. Dragging you into this mess. I should have told you who I was before you agreed to work with me. It wasn’t fair, and I–”
“Was worried about your sister.”
My eyes found Sawyer’s face again. He was closer to me than before, close enough that I caught the faintest whiff of his woodsy musk.
“You don’t have to apologize, Firecracker. You’re looking out for someone you love, and you aren’t responsible for whatever your parents did or didn’t do.” He looked down. “We shouldn’t have to pay for our family’s mistakes.”
The questions about Sawyer’s past prickled my mind again. When I had been trapped working for Garnet, what had Sawyer been doing? I knew better than to ask now, or ever again, but I still hoped that he would tell me. It seemed to constantly be eating at the back of his mind, and I wanted him to be free of it. Just as soon as I saw it, however, he came out of his trance like he had never been lost.
“I keep my promises. As long as my ship works, I’ll hold up my end of the bargain. I’ll help you get to the Behemoth and rescue your sister. The two of you will be safe from Garnet.”
I winced when I heard his name, remembering the brutality Sawyer used against him, and the horribleness of his screams as he was torn apart. I looked away, rubbing my hands over my arms.
“You wanted him dead, didn’t you?”
“No,” I admitted. “I just wanted him to leave me alone.”
Sawyer took a step closer to me. “He was torturing you, Claire. God knows what he would have done if we hadn’t gotten to you in time. And you made it clear this wasn’t the first time he hurt you. How could you want him to live?”
I snapped my head up. “Just because I hate someone doesn’t mean I want them to die. That makes me no better than them.”
Sawyer narrowed his eyes at me. “I didn’t think the Hellions would follow us, but if you’re trying to make me feel guilty about killing them, you might as well stop, because I don’t.”
The anger was seeping back into him. I didn’t know how much– or how little– of his control remained. I shouldn’t have kept pushing Sawyer, but he was open now. Vulnerable. Like everything he needed to say was an inch below the surface, waiting to be released and draw out his torment with it.
“I did what I had to do to protect you,” Sawyer said, his voice low and husky, “and I would do it again. You didn’t deserve what happened to you.”
There he went again, wracking my heart with confusion. Both of us started on rocky ground, arguing and digging for things best remained hidden. He could have walked out of the Dauntless. Could have kicked me out. Could have thrown me back into the streets. He’d shown me his darkest side, his most dangerous, yet now here he was, being open and relaxed with me. Like he didn’t want to leave. I couldn’t understand Sawyer, but he was a puzzle I was aching to solve.
Standing just a hairsbreadth away from me, I thought about our kiss again. If Sawyer had been too intoxicated to know what he was doing, or if he’d been thinking with complete clarity. I watched his eyes, trying to read them and sense what he was thinking. My gaze drifted down to his lips. They were as inviting as I remembered, even more so now that I’d tasted them.
