I feel the air turn warm and balmy as we fly out of the continent into other countries, other climates, other cultures. Round and round Earth we go until our speed becomes dizzying. I sense Noah’s grief releasing in his frenzy to get away from the beach, from his dead family and the threat of the Harbingers. The smoke is as much a catharsis for him as it is for me.
I see a place that fits what I’m looking for and begin to dive. Noah resists me, trying to press up through the atmosphere. He wants to see the universe, the planets and galaxies beyond, but now is not the time. I temper him by swarming through the blue of his smoke, swallowing him in my gray, and bringing him back down to Earth.
A field of grass stretches out before us—a plateau built into the side of a mountain. Trees surround the clearing, blocking off sight to the world beyond. I focus on turning our bodies solid again and we land in a patch of flowers, my arms still wrapped around his shoulders and my head tilted into the curve of his neck.
“Where are we?” Noah wonders aloud.
We step away from each other and survey the surroundings. The air is mild this high up, but still much warmer than the beach and the lake. A rocky cliff face creates a smooth wall on one side of the clearing and a ramshackle cabin is built in front of it. The wooden planks that make up the structure’s sides are washed colorless from time; the nails that hold the boards in place are rusted. A stone chimney juts out from the roof. On the opposite side of the clearing a bend is cut into the trees. Peering into the nook, I see a spring fed by a trickling waterfall traveling down from the rocky cliffs above.
The sun rises over the trees, casting the sky in a brilliant blue. I walk over to the cabin and knock on the door, but no one answers. Noah wipes a circle of grime off the window with his shirtsleeve, peers inside, and then leans back on his heels.
“Looks abandoned,” he says.
I turn the wrought iron knob and walk inside. Light filters in through the dusty windows, illuminating the dust motes that hang in the air. The place is made up of one room, with one corner dedicated to a kitchen and another to a sitting area that surrounds a stone hearth. A metal frame holds a double bed on the opposite side of the room, the mattress threadbare and worn.
I find a moth-eaten cloth in one of the kitchen drawers and wipe the rest of the windows clean. Noah sits on the bed, staring straight ahead at the wall. His expression is empty, blank. I walk over to him and sit by his side once I discard the cloth, grasping his hand in mine.
“Will you be alright?” I ask.
“I don’t think I ever will be.” He turns and looks me in the eye. “I don’t know if you can understand, being where you’re from. It feels like I’ve just lost my whole world.”
I hold up my palm, showing him the streak of silver that oozes from the slice in my hand. “We bleed, just like you. We die, just like you. We’re more alike than you think. We might not have families or homes or towns, but all life in this universe—the first universe—was created to resemble us.”
Noah wraps his fingers around my injured palm, fingering the skin around it gingerly. “But you don’t bleed red, and you live much longer. I guess that makes you unafraid of the end. You don’t have to think about it for billions of years.”
“I’m afraid of your end. I have to keep you safe. And right now my own demise could come a lot sooner than I originally thought. The House is destined to fall. It’s been foretold. I’m assuming I’ll go with it when it does.”
“Please, no. I can’t lose anyone else that I care about.”
Noah leans into me, his glasses pressing into my shoulder, and all of a sudden I’m looking at a little boy—broken and crying for his parents—and his vulnerability is staggering. I want to cry with him but I have no tears left to shed.
After a while he pulls away and busies himself on the other side of the room, opening cabinets and pulling out any cans of food that are still good. He fiddles with the tab on the top of one and then turns to me with red eyes.
“It’s time for you to tell me what they’re after. Why I’m being hunted,” he says. His jaw is set in a hard line and I know he won’t back down.
I stand, coming to the end of the bed and leaning against the metal frame. “You’re the Key,” I tell him. And then I explain what the Key is and what it unlocks and how the enemy of The House plans to use it. By the end of it all Noah has slipped down to the ground, his back pressed against the cabinets and his knees drawn into his chest.
“How did you find me, then? Out of all the people on Earth, you chose me to talk to—me to interact with. That can’t just be a coincidence.”
“We’re connected somehow. I can feel it. So can you, from what you’ve told me. It’s been foretold—”
“Screw the prophecy!” Noah shouts. He grabs one of the cans off the counter and lobs it across the room. The metal bends and breaks from the force of hitting the wall and its contents spew out over the floor. Noah stands and begins to pace back and forth. “Life isn’t some magical prediction made by a Seer in some mystical House somewhere. None of this should be happening. I want to go back. Back before I knew The House existed, back before I was the Key, back before—”
“—you met me?”
His face softens and he approaches me, his eyes full of shame. “I didn’t mean that. I could never mean that.”
“It’s okay if you did. I’ve caused you nothing but trouble since I came into your life.”
He tilts my chin up with one finger and kisses me, his lips lingering across my jawline and down my neck. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. He forgives me even though his pain is a result of me being here in his arms.
“What will happen to me after I unlock whatever it is I’m supposed to open?” he asks after a time.
“I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe you’ll be fine. Maybe whoever’s behind the attacks on The House will let you live. You won’t pose a threat to them once you’ve gotten them what they want.”
“No; I don’t think that’s right. I think they’ll kill me. They’ll kill you, too. That’s why we have to fight against what the Seer said. Undo the events that have been foretold.”
I smile slightly, the corners of my mouth twitching up and a renewed brightness filling my eyes. “Screw the prophecy,” I say, speaking the line with the same eloquence he wielded the words with before.
“That’s right. Screw the prophecy,” he repeats.
Then we head outside to lie in the grass, warming our tired bodies in the afternoon sun.
After we both rest our tired eyes we awake to birds chirping around us, flitting through the trees. I am covered in dust and dirt and blood, and so is Noah.
He watches from afar as I slip off my dress and wade into the nearby spring. The water is cool and soothing against my sore muscles. I dip my head under the water and pump my arms, watching as fishes dart out of my way along the rocky bottom. The waterfall scrubs the grime clean from my skin and when I feel fresh again I invite Noah to join me. He slides down the rocky side and paddles into the center of the spring, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing my skin to his.
We drift together in the water for a long while, shivering under the waning sun, until the warmth of his touch heats my skin, and mine his, and we forget all about the world falling apart around us. We forget that he is a Key and I am a Watcher. We forget and create a moment that both of us will remember forever.
Once night falls, Noah collects wood from the forest floor and lights a fire in the hearth. He heats a can of food in the embers and feeds it to me. The taste is bitter and metallic on my tongue, but it still intrigues me. We don’t have food in The House—only water.
We find a quilt folded under the bed. The smell of the fabric is musty and damp, but the fire isn’t enough to keep the cold air from chilling us, and so we crawl onto the bed and pull the blanket up to our ears.
Noah falls asleep immediately, his breathing falling into a steady rhythm that follows the same pattern as th
e flames flickering in the fireplace. I can’t do the same. In the night—in the dark—everything seems much more threatening, and I fear for Noah’s safety. He is the Key and I am his protector, for better or for worse.
The forest comes to life at night, sounds of animals huffing and twigs breaking drifting into the cabin. I roll gently out of Noah’s embrace and walk to the door, slipping into the grassy clearing beyond. The stars and sky are clearer here than where Noah is from, and I silently wish I was floating among them as swirling smoke winding its way through galaxies and around planets.
I know we cannot stay in this cabin on this mountain forever. Eventually, they will come for us. Away from Noah, I can’t pretend any longer. The gravity of my fate presses in on me. My breath quickens and my skin grows warm as I think of what’s to come.
I want to listen to Noah and fight against the prophecy. I want to believe everything the Seer said can be reversed. But I also remember Elli’s words after I told her about Noah being the Key: To try and play against the foretelling may not be wise.
So far, every time I’ve fought against the prophecy, I’ve led myself closer to it. Right now, as I stand outside the cabin where Noah sleeps so soundly, I realize I may be doing the exact same thing. I’m entangling myself with the Key, connecting myself to him in a way I’ve never connected with anyone else before. Now more than ever I’m terrified to lose him.
A pair of strong arms slip around my waist and when I glance behind me, Noah is there. His eyes droop with sleep and his hair is flattened on one side of his head.
“Is the bed not comfortable enough?” he asks.
“Can’t close my eyes,” I say.
He steps around me and kisses my forehead. I avert my gaze, staring at the places in the grass where his toes have matted down the foliage. The ground is tinged blue-green in the moonlight.
“You can tell me if you’re scared,” he says. “I won’t fall apart if you do.”
I gulp, bringing my eyes back to him. I can tell he speaks the truth. “I’m scared.”
As soon as I admit it, I wish I hadn’t. The words churn my stomach and cause my body to tremble. Noah catches me as my legs give way, picking me up into his arms. My feet dangle in the air as he walks back inside and sets me on the bed.
“You go to sleep,” he says. “I’ll keep watch for a while.”
“I’m supposed to protect you,” I murmur.
He pulls the blanket up around me and leans in close. “We can both protect each other.”
I close my eyes and drift into unconsciousness, praying that he’s right, and that Elli’s wrong, and that when I wake up this will all be one long dream with the only real part being him.
Even as I sleep I can feel his arms around me, holding me so tight it’s as if he’s worried I might turn to smoke again and drift away.
Chapter Twenty
I awake to Noah shaking me. It’s still dark outside, beams of moonlight muted as they filter through the dirty windows. I have no idea how much time has passed but I can immediately sense that we’re in danger. It’s obvious by the tight look on Noah’s face—the way his cheeks have paled and his eyes have turned wild.
“We’re being surrounded,” Noah whispers. “They’re closing in on the cabin.”
“Harbingers?” I ask.
Noah shakes his head. “People—but not really. They all look like you.”
I jolt upright, untangling my legs from the moth-eaten quilt. “Members of The House. Why would they be here? Unless …”
“Unless what?” Noah asks after I trail off, helping me out of bed.
“The prophecy mentioned a Watcher would come for you, remember? One that would bring you to The House. Maybe that’s why they’re here: to take you.”
Noah glances wildly around the room. “Then we have to get out of here.”
I walk over to one of the windows and peek outside. Plumes of gray smoke plummet toward earth and reform into members of The House. The moonlight glints off their blonde hair and makes the silver in their eyes shine. There are dozens of them already, all of them landing at the edge of the clearing. They stand stock still as if waiting for some kind of command.
The muffled sound of shattering glass interrupts my thoughts. I turn around and see Noah standing on the mattress, a dusty dishtowel draped across the window there as he uses his fist to punch out the panes. The House members outside don’t seem to hear the sound above the chirping of insects outside.
Noah motions to me, laying the towel across the broken edge of the frame. I climb out the window as quietly as I can, dropping into the grass on silent feet and flattening my body against the side of the cabin. I am thankful for the darkness; it hides me from the prying eyes all around me.
Noah slides out of the window next and together we inch across the cabin wall until we hug the cliff face. If we follow it straight across it leads to the woods—the only opening not yet blocked by a member of The House.
We crouch low into the shadows, shuffling closer and closer to the tree line as one last plume of smoke cascades down to land in front of the cabin door. I stop dead in my tracks as the moonlight shines across the man’s distinct features.
Dante.
“Don’t just stand there!” he bellows at his followers. “Search the cottage. If they’re not there then we must fan out and scour the woods.”
I don’t know why he’s here. The prophecy refers to a Watcher, not a Leader, and my mind grasps at straws as it tries to justify his presence. Maybe he’s in league with the rogue Watcher, helping them to find the Key. For the time being, it doesn’t matter. All I care about is getting Noah to safety and escaping the clutches of The House.
I begin to move again, faster this time. Members of The House walk toward the cabin and I know we only have seconds before they enter and find the broken window. Then they’ll know where we’ve gone.
I want to transform into smoke, to fly up into the sky and away from this place, but when I glance at the stars I see clouds of gray darting to and fro overhead. There’s no way we’ll dart past unnoticed, not with Noah’s striking blue fog by my side.
We reach the woods and slip between the trees. I realize I’ve been holding my breath and allow myself to exhale. My frantic expression is reflected in the lenses of Noah’s glasses and when I catch sight of my panic I do my best to mask it with determination instead. I don’t want to scare him—to let him know I’m not sure of what to do next.
“We should head deeper into the woods, try to find our way down the mountain. Hopefully we’ll find a spot where Dante’s men aren’t patrolling in the air and I can transform us,” I whisper.
Noah nods, stepping forward. I move to follow him but a branch cracks loudly underfoot. In the distance, Dante’s head snaps to attention. One of his followers leans out the broken window and points in the direction of the woods, right where we’re standing. They can’t see us through the darkness, but they know we’re there nonetheless.
“After them,” Dante snarls.
“Run,” I say to Noah, and we’re off, leaping over bushes and fighting past branches and leaves.
It’s nearly impossible to keep track of Noah as he weaves between trees. The darkness swallows him whole several times and it’s sheer luck that I find him again. I can hear the sound of Dante and the others chasing after us. Once I swear I feel the brush of hands on my back and the sound of heavy breathing in my ear. I pick up my pace, reaching Noah’s side and taking his hand to pull him onward. He is tired, slowing down, and the trees are beginning to thin and give way to mountainous terrain.
The forest ends abruptly, exiling us onto a flat plain covered in jagged boulders. On the opposite side is a steep cliff. With time and effort we could descend it in a few hours, but we have neither, and the only choices we’re left with are to jump to our deaths or hide.
I pull Noah into the crevice of a boulder, squatting down and placing a hand over his mouth. He does his best to silence his breathing as Dante
and his followers break out of the woods behind us.
“They couldn’t have gone far. Check under every stone, in every crack,” Dante commands his brethren.
I bite back my breath as feet pass by our hiding spot, back and forth, back and forth. They’ll find us eventually; they have to. It’s only a matter of time—
Noah is wrenched from my grasp and dragged out into the moonlight. I scream and claw at the air as he’s taken away from me, but two hands shoot out and grab me by the shoulders, hauling me out after him.
“You let him go!” I scream. “He’s mine. You can’t have him!”
I gnash my teeth and kick my legs, forming fists and wailing as I lash out at any skin or bone that surrounds me. It’s all the two House members holding me can do to keep their grip and dodge my blows.
Dante has Noah pinned by the throat, causing him to splutter for air as he fights against the Leader’s chokehold. Tears break out from my eyes as I realize I’ve been defeated.
“You care for the boy,” Dante says simply.
I shoot daggers in his direction, hock back, and spit in his face. He blinks back disgust as he wipes the saliva off his cheeks with his free hand.
“You’ll regret that, Amara. Mark my words,” he adds.
“The only thing I regret is letting you run The House! You’re nothing but a traitor,” I reply.
Dante looks from Noah to me as if he’s trying to connect the dots. I don’t understand his confusion—the lack of triumph written on his face.
“Why is he so important to you?” Dante asks.
“You know why.”
“No; I really don’t. Enlighten me.”
I pause my struggling, appraising the Leader’s face, and realize he’s telling the truth. He doesn’t realize Noah’s the Key at all. That means the only person he could have come to Earth for is—
“Me,” I think aloud. “You came for me.”
“Whom else would I be here for? You’ve defied the laws of The House once again, and this time your punishment is set in stone. The only question now is whether you go quietly or not.” A sneer pulls at the corners of Dante’s lips. “To help the dilemma, let me lay out your choices. If you continue to struggle—to fight against being brought back to The House—I’ll kill this boy. I can see it in your eyes you care for him, even if he’s a lower life form. Maybe you’re delusional enough to have convinced yourself it’s love. Either way, I won’t hesitate to end him.”
Across the Universe Page 13
