Ruckus appeared very worried, reaching for her before she’d fully entered the hall. Seeing that she was all right, he led her away, waiting until they were out of the hospital wing before asking how it had gone.
“Fine,” she said, barely holding back a shudder. “Strange. I don’t know.”
He pursed his lips, clearly not satisfied with her responses. “I don’t like that you were alone with him.”
“I don’t like that I was alone with him.” Delaney bumped her shoulder against him. “There’s got to be something else we can talk about.”
“I have a plan for when Olena gets here,” he divulged, obviously just as eager as she was to end the Trystan topic. “The Tellers who have her in custody will arrive two hours before dawn, when the rest of the castle is still asleep. We’ll sneak down to the loading dock to meet them, and do the exchange there. Let me show you.”
They wound their way through the halls, passing his room first so that she could see the actual path they would be taking tomorrow night. Most of the passages they moved through were empty, and it was currently the middle of the day. There shouldn’t be any problems for them when it came time to leave for real.
“Fawna, the pilot who helped us remove you from Earth, will be down there,” Ruckus said.
They stopped at the base of a large white hallway, and she recognized the massive doors that she’d been led through upon first entering the castle weeks ago.
“She’ll have the ship ready to go, so as soon as you and Olena switch off, we can leave. Gibus and Pettus will be coming with us as well,” he continued, turning toward her once he was finished. He frowned. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” she said, and cleared her throat. It was just hitting her how real this all was. There was a plan and a time frame and everything. “This is really going to happen, right? Because I don’t think I’ll survive another assassination attempt, and I’m not just being facetious when I say that.”
“Delaney—” Ruckus cocked his head, holding out a hand to keep her back as he stepped forward to glance down both ends of the adjacent halls. “I think I heard footsteps.”
“We should go.” She wanted to reach for his hand, but if he really had heard someone, they couldn’t risk it. Instead she settled for keeping as close to him as possible as they began the walk back toward his room.
They’d only taken a few turns when they came upon Brightan briskly walking in the opposite direction. It was impossible to tell where he’d come from, whether or not it was the hallway they had just been in or the opposite one. Brightan’s harried pace didn’t help any, either. If the Kint was aware of their presence, he didn’t let on, instead moving on his way until he’d disappeared around another corner.
“Do you think he was following us?” Delaney asked, nervous all over again. What other reason could Brightan have for being this far from Trystan’s bedside? And if he had been stalking them, how much had he overheard?
“He could just be checking on the Zane’s ship,” Ruckus posed. “I’ve heard that Trystan doesn’t trust many people with it. I guess the mechanics are complicated, and Brightan is one of the few who’ve learned how to operate and handle them.”
The walk to his room was only about ten minutes, and it wasn’t until they were safely inside that she pressed.
“You honestly believe that he was there to check on a ship, not us?”
“We don’t know for certain he was even near the hangar.” Ruckus ran a hand through his dark hair and eased down to the edge of the bed. “But no, I doubt it was a coincidence that he left Trystan at the same time we did. Could be he was attempting to follow us and got lost. Either way, he wasn’t close enough to overhear anything, not if I was able to pick up on his approach.”
Frustrated over the whole thing, Delaney dropped down next to him, sprawling out on her back so she could stare up at the ceiling. When he shifted so that he was lying as well, she rested her forehead against his shoulder.
“What was it like,” she asked, “growing up here?”
“I’m not sure how to answer that,” he admitted, then thought it over. “We’re encouraged to pick a path at a young age. And position, as you’ve discovered, still holds a lot of weight in our society. How many life options you have is closely related to your social standing, unfortunately.”
“So…” She moved onto her side so that she could wrap an arm around his chest, trying to ignore the increasing tempo of her heart. “The same as on Earth, is what you’re saying.”
“Am I?” He lifted a hand to her hair and began running strands of it absently through his fingers. “What was it like growing up there?”
“I’m not sure how to answer that,” she joked, laughing when he poked her in the side. “I come from a small town and a well-known family, so I was always expected to be on my best behavior. It was important for me to correctly represent the Grace name.”
“Let me guess,” he said, and chuckled, “you were purposefully awful at it. That explains your issues with authority.”
“You mean why I’m always snapping back at the Basileus?”
“I mean why you’re always putting your life on the line with the Basileus,” he corrected, though not nearly as seriously as he might have even a week ago.
Delaney didn’t want to think too much about what that meant, or how she would feel once she was back on Earth for good and he was here, lying in his bed, alone.
“Tell me something else,” she insisted.
“What else do you want to know?” The corner of his mouth curved up, and it took her a moment to figure out why.
“Whatever you want to tell me,” she told him. After the Tandem game and her fitting, he’d attempted to distract her with questions about her life. They’d been interrupted by Trystan before they could get too far into it, however.
“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he parroted, and her own words said back to her sounded odd coming from his lips.
She sort of liked it, though.
“All right,” she agreed, settling more comfortably against him.
Amazingly enough, this time they managed the entire conversation without a single interruption.
* * *
DELANEY WOKE UP on her final day on Xenith, nervous. There were seemingly a million and one things that could go wrong, and suddenly they were all playing through her head like a horror movie she couldn’t shut off.
Because he was going to be escorting her all the way back to Earth, Ruckus had a lot of loose ends to tie up before their departure. After he’d told her as much, it’d been her decision to come to the science wing. Hanging out with Pettus and Gibus had worked in calming her emotions before, and she’d hoped that it would again.
They’d quickly fallen into the same camaraderie they’d developed while playing cards, which made it easy to forget that this was her last day. Every time one of those thoughts slipped past her defenses—like when Pettus said something particularly funny, or Gibus told her something scientific and crazy—she’d immediately suggest they show her something else.
The idea of leaving them, of never seeing them again, was starting to make her chest ache and she didn’t like it. It was to the point that, as the day waned, growing closer and closer to the end, she started missing them. Even though they were still standing right in front of her.
Gibus was in the process of showing her how to use one of his inventions when Ruckus finally came back almost eight hours later.
“Hold it here”—the Sutter adjusted her grip on the maroon metallic device shaped sort of like a banana—“and then squeeze.”
Delaney did as told and sucked in a breath when a burst of neon-yellow goo shot out of the top of the device and flung straight across the room. Pettus had set up a row of thin glass jars on one of the workbenches, which she was supposed to be aiming at. The goo smacked into one of them, effectively shattering it and bursting bits of yellow all over the nearby ones.
“What exactly
was the point of this thing?” she asked, still laughing, as she lined up her sight and let loose another goo ball. “It reminds me of this game back home, paintball. Is that what this is?”
“No.” Gibus waved a hand at her like she was ridiculous. “It was meant for tagging oompha, of course.”
“Of course.” The corner of her mouth twitched as she held back a grin, and she glanced sideways at Pettus, who was staring back at her and doing the same. “Gotta tag those oomphas. Wouldn’t want them getting out of hand.”
“Definitely not,” Gibus agreed with a curt nod.
“It’s a fish.” Ruckus made his presence known and stepped up to her, dropping a kiss to her cheek.
Before she’d met him, she would have thought the gesture too sappy for her, but now …
“A very large one that often jumps so far, it can be misconstrued as flying. They’re fast, so hard to tag with traditional means. The science department in charge of monitoring underwater life requested that Gibus come up with a solution.”
“And what did I get for slaving away for five weeks?” Gibus chimed in with a disgruntled look. “They went with someone else’s invention. Morons.”
“Want to get out of here?” Ruckus leaned closer and whispered against the curve of her ear, effectively sending her body into a heat wave. “It’s late, and there’s something I want to show you.”
She nodded and they said their good-byes, heading out of the room, her arm linked with his.
“Shouldn’t we be more careful?” she asked as they walked leisurely. Whatever he wanted to show her, he wasn’t in any rush to get there. “What if someone spots us?”
“I know when all the guards do their rotations, Delaney,” he reminded her. “And all the schedules. I am the one who made them. There are certain perks involved with being an Ander.”
“Hmm,” she said, acting impressed, “perhaps I’ll try out for the role then. How hard can it be to become an Ander anyway?”
He mock-glared and then before she knew what he’d intended, picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. She barely had a chance to inhale before he was moving down the hall at such a fast pace that the floor blurred beneath his feet. That was all she could currently see in her position, and she fought down a wave of vertigo.
Fortunately, he stopped them just in time, slipping through a doorway so that within moments the hard floor turned to curly grass.
“Are we at the pools?” she asked even as she pressed against his back to lift herself and take a look. Sure enough, she was met with the stony interior of the room they’d swam in over a week ago.
“It’s about to happen,” he told her excitedly, slipping her down his front but keeping a firm arm wrapped around her waist to keep her to him.
Her feet touched the ground, and she glanced around at the tiny white-and-yellow star-shaped flowers and the dark green climbing vines. It was just as peaceful and exotic here as she remembered, with the trickling of the water. She couldn’t see the falls from here, being blocked off by a thick rock column, but she remembered how beautiful they were. The smell was a mixture of salt, sweetness, and an added tangy hint.
“What’s about to happen?” she asked. Above them, the sky was darkening. In less than a minute it’d be completely black. She was so busy looking up that she almost missed it.
“Look.” Ruckus breathed against the curve of her ear and she turned her head down.
Gasping, she pulled away from him and rushed over to the nearest batch of climbing flowers. They were starting to glow, one after the other lighting up like a string of Christmas lights. One strand of them would burst into a vibrant neon-greenish white or pale yellow, and then the next, until the entire place was lit up.
“Holy shit,” she whispered, awed by the beauty of the place. “You weren’t kidding. This is gorgeous.” She reached for one and paused. “Can I?”
“Go ahead.” He motioned her onward. “They aren’t poisonous. Only pretty. But don’t pick them; they’ll stop glowing immediately if separated from the vine.”
She stopped herself from doing that just in time, changing tactics and stroking the soft petals instead. It felt the same as it had the last time she was here; only at her touch, they sparkled like she’d sprinkled silver and gold glitter on them.
“Whoa.”
“Oh yeah,” he added smugly, “they do that, too.”
“I wish I could take some with me,” she murmured, mostly to herself. When he remained quiet at her back, she glanced over. “It’s not the only thing, you know.”
He canted his head, suddenly serious. “Are you saying you’d take me home with you if you could?”
It was a weighted question, and for some reason she sensed there was more to it than she was getting. She didn’t try too hard to decipher it, though, caught up in the serenity of the moment.
“Ruckus.” She took a tentative step toward him. “I am going home, and we both know you can’t really come with me. You have a life here, and I respect that. Despite the joke I made in the hall, I know how hard you’ve worked to get yourself here, to make Ander. I would never ask you to give that up.”
“What if I want to?” he whispered, the words almost lost over the sound of running water. His yellow-green eyes had darkened, and he was so still in the dim lighting, it was almost as if he wasn’t even breathing.
Did she want that? She certainly didn’t want things to end with him, liked being around him, but she’d thought these thoughts before. The idea of leaving him behind was upsetting, yet she also meant what she’d told him. How could she expect him to leave everything he’d ever known and come with her to a foreign world?
“How would that even be possible?” she asked. “How would you explain away leaving? And what about your family?”
“They’re dead,” he admitted, continuing before she could utter an apology. “They died during the war with the Kints. I have an aunt, and we’re close, a cousin as well, but they’d understand.”
“And what about your position? I have a life back there, on Earth, but you, your life is here.”
“I didn’t ask you to list all the ways it wouldn’t be plausible,” he stated. “I asked whether or not you’d want me to. Will you miss me when you’re back on Earth? Or was this”—he pointed between them—“merely a matter of circumstance?”
“Of course not!” She wanted to touch him, reassure him, but his demeanor kept her at bay. He was too still, too distant. She got the distinct impression she’d somehow hurt his feelings, but she couldn’t place her finger on how. She was only trying to be honest, and keep her own emotions safe at the same time.
“Of course I’ll miss you,” she said softly. “And of course I’d love it if you came with me. We just both know that’s not very realistic, and pretending otherwise … I don’t want to get my hopes up for something that can’t actually happen. No matter how unique this”—she mimicked his motion with a finger—“is. I wouldn’t ask you to go any more than you would ask me to stay.”
He deflated all at once, shoulders slumping even as he removed the space between them, cupping her cheeks in his strong hands. The glow from the flowers reflected phosphorescent yellows and whites off his lightly tanned skin, making him appear even more alien than ever before.
And even more beautiful.
“Apologies.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I didn’t think of it that way. I didn’t take raising your hopes into consideration. Forgive me?”
She pretended to think it over, then smirked up at him. “Sure. Just promise me one thing?”
“Anything.”
“There’s less than a day left,” she reminded him, “and then I’m gone. I want to enjoy the rest of the time we have left together.”
Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he turned them toward the pool and then over to the edge. When he sat, he brought her with him, settling her on his lap so that his booted feet came close to being lapped at by the water.
“I’m going t
o miss you, too,” he said against the crown of her head. “Fiercely.”
She burrowed closer against his chest, breathing in deeply the fire pit smell. She was never going to be able to go to a bonfire again without thinking about him. It’d be a constant reminder of what she’d left behind. Of what she’d lost.
And she was starting to think of it as that. Even taking into account everything she’d been torn from, everything waiting for her back on Earth, the thought of being so far from him caused devastation. She wanted to cry like that first night in Olena’s bedroom, screaming into her pillow so that no one would hear.
“Comfortable?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts. She felt him laughing quietly when she smiled against his chest.
“You hear me complaining?” she joked.
“Usually when I don’t hear you saying something, it’s a bad sign.” He tightened his hold around her arms to keep her in place as he leaned closer to the curve of her right ear. “I’m not sure if anyone’s ever told you this before, but you’re kind of a loudmouth.”
“I am not!” She swatted the back of his arm and shifted enough to glare up at him. “I’m vocal when it’s called for, that’s all. And you can’t tell me that if our situations were reversed, you wouldn’t be the exact same way.”
“You’re right,” he agreed, not even bothering to think about it. “I’d probably be five times worse than you, even. You’re actually handling all this pretty amazingly. I would have flipped a long time ago.”
“Broken something, I remember.” She recalled his saying something similar to that before. It felt like a lifetime had passed since. “You know, you were a lot tougher in that alley. Making all kinds of threats, speaking in that gruff voice I haven’t heard you use since. Putting on a big show for the Lissa when in actuality you’re just one big soft teddy—”
He rolled her so suddenly, her words cut off, and in the next second he had her pinned to the curly grass. Through the skylight above, the millions of stars winked, accompanied by the glow of the flowers and the lulling of the water.
Amid Stars and Darkness Page 27
