I finally drew near enough to see the massive grates that had opened in the ground at the edge of the rock face like a long row of enormous sinkholes, draining the water away and taking me with it.
The grates seemed to be made of iron, each square opening several feet wide. Suddenly swimming toward it seemed like a very bad idea.
I struggled against the pull, but I was too close. I hit the edge of an opening and it was like knives against my skin, rasping and cutting as the water continued to gush and press me downward. I grabbed hold of one of the edges and clung to it, but the section of grating gave way, peeling and melting in my hand. My burning body was my worst enemy.
I catapulted through the opening in the grate and flew down with the water—down and down inside some kind of drain that fell at a sideways angle. Several hundred feet along, there was another grate, smaller this time. I planted against it, all the while the water sucking and crushing me against the iron, until it too melted and I was forced through.
The drain began to narrow. I tried to turn around, swim backward before it was too small to even try, but the force of the water was too great. Failing at that, I tried to press against the side of the drain, to catch hold of something, anything, to slow the downward slide. My fingers scrabbled and slipped and the water carried me on.
There was another grate ahead. It had much finer holes with much thicker bars. I wouldn’t slip through this one. I’d break every bone in my legs when I hit, but I needed to stop falling, for the water to stop and to drain away so I could find my way back out.
Seconds later, I connected with the grating, and for a moment relief filled me. I’d stopped. I’d finally stopped. But the water knocked against me and a deep throb began in my lower spine, as though someone had dropped hot toffee onto me. The water continued to pummel into the grating, wave after wave hitting me; sharp pain burst up the middle of my back and spread out to my shoulder blades with an agonizing burn.
I needed to breathe.
The nectar was wearing off.
Panic set in. I had to find a way out. Now.
Dragging myself against the weight of the rushing water, I attempted to shimmy up the grate, to find an air pocket above the rushing fall. There was a small gap, filled with foamy froth, and if I pushed away enough to tilt my head right back, I could breathe. I gasped a breath against the top of the drain pipe, tasting copper and iron on my lips.
There was a metal edge on my right, but I couldn’t make it out, and I had to use every bit of remaining strength to stay in contact with the little pocket of air that was keeping me alive.
I clung, knowing that surely, eventually, the water would stop. It would drain away and the pipe would clear. Minutes felt like hours and finally the gap of air widened. The rushing water slowed, the force pushing me against the grate lessened, but the pain in my back remained.
Gasping for breath, I told myself to calm down. There might be enough nectar to heal me.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus.
Just try.
As the water lowered to waist height, freeing my arms but still pinning my legs, I covered my face with my hands, smothering the threatening sobs. No amount of rational thought could help me now. I closed my eyes and stayed as still as possible, shivering, wet, and cold after so much heat. The last of the water pattered down, splattering the grating in a gentle drum beat. It covered my feet, and then the last of it was gone, leaving only the odd splash and trickle.
Where was the pale boy and his nectar now?
Five breaths later, the pain in my back receded and I collapsed with relief.
I’d healed but only just. I couldn’t risk hurting myself again—I’d burned up all the nectar and it wouldn’t save me now. I dropped to the floor of the metal drain, unable to stop shaking. My thoughts began to jumble, much faster than the last time I’d taken nectar to heal. That time I’d danced away the effects in the shadow of a tree. Michael had been there with me, his eyes dark and intense.
Shudders racked my body as the darkness beat down on me. The drain was at a gentle angle, not vertical but steep enough to tell me that climbing out of it was going to be very difficult. I sought the side, where I’d noticed the strange lip of metal. It was mossed over, but they must have had construction tunnels to build the drain, so maybe there would be a way out along the way. I followed the thin line with my fingertip, scraping at the mossy stuff encasing it.
There was a snap and a creak . In front of me, the side of the drain moved, pushing me backward. I lurched out of the path of a suddenly-opening flap, slipping and crouching as far away as I could get.
A hysterical laugh tore up out of me. They had to retrieve unlucky Starsgardians somehow.
Torchlight flooded the space around me. A man’s voice said, “Go carefully. She could be hurt.”
A woman squeezed herself between the gap, her body coming into focus next to me as she knelt down to see my face, blocking the glare.
“Ava? Can you hear me?” It was Ruth. I recognized her long dark hair through the haze. She smoothed my face with gentle hands and checked me over while she spoke. “Thank heavens, you’re alive.”
I reached for her, only managing to snatch hold of her plait, tugging on it. “Michael?”
“He’s fine, Ava, don’t worry.”
“The two girls?”
Her smile was sad, fading in and out of focus. “They’re fine too.”
But they’ll never come near me again.
She looked up at the man beside her. I struggled to make out his face behind the torchlight. “We need to get her out of here.”
“Is she okay?” This time I recognized Jonah’s voice before his face dropped closer to mine, the torch dropping and easing some of the crazy sparkly nothingness filling the air around me.
“Yes, she seems to be.”
“Good.” Instead of pulling me up, he settled down beside Ruth, holding his palm out toward my face, close enough that I could see exactly what was in it.
It was a large, purple leaf.
It was the same leaf he wore when Michael and I first arrived at Starsgard. The same one I’d seen in the data storage area and Arachne told me never to touch. It nestled in his palm and a long, purple thread wound up around his forearm.
Ruth snatched at his shoulder, avoiding touching his hand. “What are you doing?”
Alarm filled her face, the stark change snapping me back to reality, but only for a second.
He ignored her as his eyes blazed at me. “Ava Holland, by order of the Council, you will sleep.”
“No! She’s just a child.” Ruth tried to grab him but he shook her off, countering her attempts by pulling her hand and holding it tight.
His features softened. “It’s only temporary, Ruth. It’s for her safety. She needs to disappear right now. You know that, don’t you?”
Ruth shook her head, as though she wanted to disagree, but this time she didn’t speak. Her head dropped and he let her hand go. She brushed a last strand of hair from my forehead, seeming to give in. “I’ll wake you again, soon, Ava. I promise.”
Panic shot through me, clearing the sparkly haze completely, making my senses sharp. I scooted backward, shuffling on my elbows, pushing with my hands, only managing a few feet before I came up against the grate again. One of my arms nudged slime and I slipped, banging my head. I ignored the pain and pressed back as far as I could.
I shoved at his hand as he followed me, his expression grim. I tried to get to my feet but it was no use. My legs wouldn’t respond and my head spun with the after-effects of the nectar.
He was going to make me sleep.
The leaf descended.
It was remarkably soft against my forehead. As soon as it touched me, my vision dimmed at the edges. Ruth’s sad face faded, disappearing into a wash of gray.
In the depth of the dark, only Jonah’s voice remained. A soft and fading purr, he said, “I’ll carry her inside. Nobody can know she’s alive.”
“Not even Michael?”
“Nobody. Not that boy, not anyone. She’s dead now, Ruth. She died in this drain. That’s how it has to be.”
Then there was nothing but dreams of a glass coffin.
I dreamed of a kiss mingled with tears and Michael said my name over and over. “Ava, I love you, please don’t be dead. Please wake up.”
He kissed me again and the force of the electricity that shot through me kicked my heart and spread out through my arms and legs. Except nothing moved to show him I was alive.
I struggled against my body. I was lying on some kind of bed. There was light behind my eyelids but it seemed artificial. I guessed they’d taken me underground where the world couldn’t see me.
I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive. Please see I’m alive.
“It’s time to go, Michael.” Ruth’s voice was gentle but firm—and slightly worried, as though she thought I might break free of the sleep-like cage and show him I was alive.
Not dead.
His arms went around my shoulders, grabbing me up against him. I wanted to hold him too, but my head lolled and he caught it, trying to gather all of me up into his arms.
“Please, Ava. Please.”
The rafts of electricity coming off his body hurt me, so sharp they were, so cutting through my skin and my heart.
Ruth spoke again. “Michael…”
“No! Get away from her!” His arms tightened. “I should have protected her. I should have stopped Seth.”
“There was nothing you could have done, Michael. Nobody knew what was in his heart, that he’d hurt her. Come away. Leave her in peace.”
I sensed his struggle to calm himself so they didn’t grab him and drag him away. I was aware of the other people in the room, closing in as his voice rose, gathering just feet away.
“Just … give me one more moment. I need to tell her…”
He pressed his mouth against my ear.
“I love you. Not because I’m trying to make up for what happened to Josh. I know you always wondered, but it’s not because of that. I love you for you. I love you because you went back for those people in the Terminal and freed them. I love you because you believed we had a future. I love you for kissing me back. I loved you from the moment I first saw you dance.”
He put me back on the bed and smoothed out my limbs, brushing my hair next to my face. He kissed my forehead and then he withdrew, only his hand holding mine.
“It’s okay. You’ll be okay.” It was Arachne’s voice this time, filled with tears. “We lost them. We both lost them. I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for Josh, but I never wished this on anyone else.”
Did he nod? Acknowledge her? He didn’t speak and I couldn’t tell, but he placed my hand on the bed.
“Goodbye, Ava.”
Don’t let me go!
Their footsteps receded. A door closed but I sensed there was still someone near me. A few moments later, Ruth spoke across me.
Her voice had changed. There was an edge to it, no longer soft and consoling but bitter. “That’s the cruelest thing I’ve ever done.” Her hand dropped to mine. “Make sure she’s still asleep. I saw her twitch when he touched her. That boy … they are such opposites and yet they belong to each other. Now we’re ripping them apart.”
“We have to do this.” It was Jonah’s voice. “It’s the only way to keep her alive. We tried it your way and it didn’t work. Prejudice is as rife in Starsgard as it is elsewhere.”
“You don’t really think that’s the only reason Seth tried to kill her.” It was an accusation, not a question.
“No. I think he was afraid of Evereach. And he’s not alone.”
“Olander won’t breach our defenses.”
“Are you so sure of that now? The tranquilizer Seth used on Luke originated from Evereach. It came across the border somehow.”
There was silence. Her hand tightened on mine. “I will keep her safe. Even if it breaks her heart.”
Something touched my forehead. Nothing like Michael’s gentle kiss, I recognized the softness of the purple leaf, and I descended, no longer able to float above the darkness.
Chapter Nineteen
WHEN I woke, Ruth was sitting beside me, her hand on mine, as though she’d stayed in that position the whole time. My throat was dry and a dull pain spread across my forehead. I recognized the room of long sleep.
I was on a pallet—not the same bed I’d been in when Michael said good-bye. The pallet was pushed up against one of the walls, located perpendicular to the glass coffins. The walls were white but there was the tiniest crack in them, right beside where I lay, forming a jagged black line.
I was wearing different clothes. My tattered dance dress was gone. In its place were warm leggings, a long-sleeved shirt, and a jacket.
Ruth waited for me to focus. “Ava?”
I flailed, attempting to scoot up the bed, my voice a harsh croak. “Get away from me.”
“Ava, it’s okay. You’re awake now.”
“It’s not okay. Michael thinks I’m dead. And you let him.”
She inhaled a sharp breath. “You were awake when he visited you.” Her gaze flicked to the man standing opposite—Jonah—who loomed over me.
“Awake enough to hear everything but not awake enough to tell him I was alive.” I bared my teeth against the sob that rose from my chest. “How could you?”
“I had no choice. We have an opportunity now that we didn’t have before.”
“An opportunity?”
Ruth looked to Jonah, who remained calm, which infuriated me even more. “It’s in your best interests to stay dead.”
I remembered him saying in the drain that I needed to disappear, that there was no other way. If I was dead, then Evereach would stop searching for me. If I was dead, people would stop coming after me and trying to kill me. But if the world thought I was dead and Michael did too…
“Even if there weren’t other reasons to keep you dead, there are a lot of people in Starsgard who won’t forget what they saw you do—the fire you started. The destruction of a tower would be devastating to our people, and the fear that you could do it again … you would never be able to mend those bridges.”
I pictured the fire and the girls’ parents, wrapped in black cocoons. I wouldn’t forget it anytime soon. “That doesn’t mean you can’t tell Michael the truth. He won’t tell anyone.”
“Then what, Ava? The only people who know you survived are the seven Councilors. Even our most trusted staff don’t know. Jonah carried you here himself and it took a lot of effort to orchestrate the movement of your body without anyone knowing where we were taking you.”
She sighed and the full weight of her words dropped on me. “There are very few options available to us at this point to keep you both safe and supposedly dead. We woke you because the Council is meeting in an hour to make a decision about the best way forward. You need to be present for that decision.”
I tried to gather my thoughts. If the Councilors were going to make a decision, then I’d have to convince them to tell Michael the truth. I had to change their minds. “What day is it?”
“Two days since the festival.”
“What happened to Luke? What about Seth? Where are they?”
“Seth is in custody, pending the Council’s judgment. We found Luke locked in the dance studio bathroom. He wasn’t harmed, but he’s grieving like everyone else. He blames himself for what happened to you.”
“He shouldn’t.” If only I could tell him that myself. None of this was his fault. “The Council’s going to decide how to punish me for the fire, aren’t they?”
“Not punish, Ava. You didn’t choose this.” She ventured closer and squeezed my hand. “We have to figure out a way to keep your survival a secret.”
They’d set the scene for my death and they’d do whatever they could to make sure nobody found out any different. If Michael didn’t know I was alive, he’d move on with his life. He had to. At that thought, a d
eep pain grew in my chest.
“Okay, then I need to know … what are the options? What might they decide?”
“Worst case, they decide you need to sleep with your parents. But that would mean real death, Ava, since we can only presume that even a week without food and water would kill you—even in a resting state.”
I shuddered, wondering if they would do that. I’d threatened one of their towers and I’d manhandled their citizens. Regardless of the fact that I hadn’t chosen to have a full dose of crazy juice pumped into me, my actions after that were my own.
I rubbed at my forehead, at the bruise where the leaf had touched me. My safe world had fallen apart. I didn’t know exactly why Seth had done what he did, but Michael had been right after all: people were afraid of me. I guessed they always would be.
Maybe it was best if I disappeared—if the world thought I was dead. I wasn’t sure where I’d live or how far away I’d have to go to stop anyone finding out I was alive. Maybe the Council would keep me underground for the rest of my life. But what about Michael? Everything circled back to him. I couldn’t leave him. I wouldn’t. I wrapped my arms around my chest, trying to keep everything inside.
“Do you think you can stand?” Ruth held out her arm to support me. “You need to test your legs before the Council meeting. I have food for you if you think you can stomach it.”
I found my legs again and managed a few bites of a sandwich. My stomach squirmed and I wasn’t sure if it was nerves, the effect of the sleep, or the fact I hadn’t eaten in two days. Jonah left during my meal, and too late it occurred to me that I should have talked to him, made him see that I wasn’t a threat to anyone.
“Will I have the chance to present my case before they make a decision?”
“You may ask questions,” she said. “If you don’t like their decision, you can put forward a counterargument or an alternative solution.”
Beneath the Guarding Stars (Mortality Book 2) Page 19
