Broken Skies (11 page)

The caution isn’t necessary. Ten feet closer and I can already tell the guard is dead, his head tilted at an unnatural angle. I should be relieved. I’m not. Instead my muscles tense up and my eyes move around my surroundings in short, quick movements. Whoever did this might still be here and they aren’t someone I want to run in to. Even more concerning is that the body is going to draw attention to this gate, the one I so carefully planned to take to throw them off our trail.

There’s no time to slink along the wall to the next gate, the festival will be wrapping up soon and people will be headed back to their homes for the night. There really isn’t even time for me to be standing here thinking. No other choice then. I’ll find another way to throw them off. Grabbing Lir’s arm, I run the last few feet to the gate and slip through.

* * * * * * *

We’ve been making fast progress away from Bridgelake for what feels like forever, but in reality is probably only a couple hours or so. There should be plenty of time for us to make our escape. Emily said the guards don’t switch over until morning so our escape won’t be discovered until then. Our westerly direction, away from the city, should help keep them off our tail as long as the dead guard doesn’t give us away. That is, if Dane actually cares about retrieving me. It’s not like he was very concerned about Jace.

The weight of the day’s events is catching up to me and my steps are slowing. We walk in silence, the sound of the forest surrounding us and the occasional twig breaking underfoot. I mumble an apology when a small branch swings back after I push by and hits Lir. He mumbles something in return. Small talk is not my specialty and it doesn’t appear to be his either. The lingering quiet between us unnerves me, sending doubts flooding into my mind.

What have I gotten myself into? Now that I really have time to stop and think, or at least concentrate on thinking, I realize I have no idea what I’m doing, not really. The combination of hope and adrenaline that has been keeping me going is fading, leaving me with nothing but a very vague goal to work towards. Yes, I’m going to get Jace back, but how?

The increased anxiety speeds my steps until Lir falls behind. My feet beat out a steady cadence. Step. Breath. Step. Breath. What if I should have waited for Flint? Step. What if the alien is dangerous? Breath. What if I’m too late? Step. What happened to the dead guard? Breath. What if Jace is dead? What if—

“Jax?” He’s beside me now, his voice breaking me out of the endless stream of what if’s floating through my brain. “Are we stopping here?”

Huh? I realize I’ve stopped walking and I’m practically hyperventilating. The buzz of anxiety is back, filling my body and throbbing in time with my rapid breathing.

Lir’s brow furrows. “Are you alright?” His hand extends toward me and mine flies up to meet it, grasping his wrist and squeezing.

I can feel his wrist bones grating together under my grip. “Don’t touch me.” My hand releases and he yanks his arm away.

“Got it. No touching.” Wariness enters his eyes and he takes a step backwards.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

And his hands go up in front of him. “Like what?”

“Like I’m crazy.” And there goes the eyebrow. “And stop with the eyebrow thing!”

Lir blinks his eyes twice and then a short burst of air escapes from his chest. “Eyebrow thing?” His lips fight to turn up at the edges.

I scowl, but the wavering edges of his mouth start my lips to mimicking the motion. I lose the battle first. A smile spreads across my face and my anxiety releases into a laugh. “Yeah. The eyebrow thing. You know, like this?” My pointer finger goes to his brow and lifts his left eyebrow up. “Just the one.”

The muscles in his forehead move under my finger and the green tips of one curl brush against my knuckle. If I move my hand his eyebrow would stay up. Lir doesn’t say anything, he just trails his eyes down my arm and up to my finger until his gaze is twisted up. Crap. I’m touching him again… Right after I told him not to touch me. What is wrong with me?

I was right, the eyebrow stays up when I pull my hand away and drop it to my side. The tingling buzz recedes along with the previously unnoticed tension in my limbs. “Sorry,” I say. “I’m just a little on edge.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Lir says dryly, rubbing at his wrist. “I would hate to see you a lot on edge.” His eyes widen at his own statement and he starts stammering. “I mean… Just… I wasn’t referring to…”

“It’s okay.” I sink down, my backpack pressing against a tree trunk, until my butt lands in the dirt. “I think I just need a moment. There’s too much noise in my head right now.”

Lir sits down across from me, pulling his knees into his chest and wrapping his arms around them. I mirror the movement. The edges of the dress flap against my thighs. Oh yeah, I’m wearing a dress. So not only did I touch him, now I’m flashing him. My face heats and I slide my legs to the side, pulling the dress down around my knees.

I shrug out of one shoulder strap and swing the backpack around. First things first, I need to change. A light jacket. Two soft t-shirts. A small bundle of food. Canteen. Sleeping bag. My knife and hilt. Pants? Please tell me there are pants in here. My fingers brush across a rough texture that can only be denim. Thank goodness.

I pull the jeans out and shimmy them up underneath the dress. Next comes socks and some nice sturdy boots. I’m almost as excited to get rid of the stupid sandals as I am to get rid of the dress. A shirt goes over my head and I strip off the sleeves of the dress, pulling it down and stepping out of it before sliding my arms into the shirt sleeves. Lir jumps a little when I toss the now crumpled dress past his head and into the woods. It probably would have been better for me to stuff it in the pack, to cover our tracks and all, but it’s too late now. I lean back against the tree and close my eyes, finally a little more comfortable.

“So what is your plan exactly?” His words are quiet, near a whisper.

So far, I don’t really have much of a plan, but that probably wouldn’t be the best thing to admit to right now. I open my eyes and squint at him. He’s staring at the ground. It’s the first time since Lir stepped off that ship that his wall of confidence really cracks. For just a moment, a flash of vulnerability, maybe even fear, passes across his face. What must it be like for him stranded out here alone and hurt with only me to depend on? He looks so incredibly lost in that moment— and young.

“How old are you?” I ask.

The wall slams back down. “In your years? Nineteen.” His head comes up and he narrows his eyes. “Why?”

“Just curious.” I roll my shoulders and straighten my legs out in front of me. “I’m seventeen, well almost eighteen now. My brother too. We’re twins.” His head tilts to the side, his shoulders lower and one leg extends forward. Silence fills the gap between us again. I want to know him, to know something, anything to ease my fears about Jace. “What about you, any siblings?”

“One,” he says. I just stare, waiting for the rest. Lir avoids my gaze and his voice softens. “A sister, Stella. She’s seven.”

“I’ve always wanted a sister. Do you guys get along?”

“Yes.” Again, I wait for more words, but he doesn’t continue.

Elaborate swirls appear in the dirt as I trace my finger through it. There’s a burn behind my eyes and I have to swallow twice before I can get my next question past my lips. “Do you think they’re hurting him?” My eyes dart up to meet Lir’s emerald gaze and one of my hands curls in on itself, my nails pressing into my palm.

“I don’t know.” At least he’s honest. Though I may have preferred empty assurances.

There are so many other questions begging to squeeze out of my mouth. Why did they do it? What do they want with him? Who did it? And is Jace even alive? Lir doesn’t have the answers to these questions though and, even if he did, I might not like them. I can’t afford to get sidetracked.

I look away and rub my eyes with the back of my hand.
Get it together, Jax. No tears.
“I don’t have one. A plan. Not really anyway.” I laugh nervously. “Just get my brother back or die trying.”

Grabbing the strap of the satchel, I pull it into my lap. “I’ve got a map. I know where to go.” Lir scoots across the ground until he’s next to me. The map rustles on my lap as I unfold it and point out our route to him. He leans closer, following my finger with his eyes, until I can feel the heat of his chest against my back. “Bridgelake is here, your city is here.” My finger jabs at each location. “We’re about here.”

“We’re moving west? That is the wrong direction.”

“Yes. Well, it’s away from the city anyway,” I say. “It’s to throw them off if they try to follow us. We’ll head west and then cut north here, near one of the red circles, then back east here. This road should take us almost all the way there.”

Lir nods. “How much farther should we travel tonight?”

It’s hours until morning and the longer I sit here, the heavier my eyes get. My joints are starting to ache, especially my shoulders. Hanging from a window ledge was not friendly to my arms. “Maybe we should rest for a bit now and then head out at first light?” I don’t really mean for it to be a question.

Lir shrugs, his shoulder brushing my arm with the movement. “Sounds good to me.”

I fight a sigh of relief when he moves away until he’s across from me again and opens his pack. Puffs of dirt drift up when he rolls out his sleeping bag. He slides inside and closes his eyes.

Lir’s breathing has evened and his body relaxed into sleep before I even move to get my sleeping bag. At least he trusts me a little, if only enough to fall asleep in my presence. I envy his ease as I toss and turn for at least an hour before falling into a restless sleep.

My dreams are filled with blood and knives, a bright white light and Jace’s screams. And then they’re not. Images of towering buildings and silver ships creep into my head, followed closely by bright green eyes and a single upraised eyebrow.

NINE

Sunlight filters through the leaves and onto my face, waking me up. I push the sleeping bag down and stand. My shoulders are still stiff, but I do a couple stretches and they loosen up. Clenching my fist a few times loosens up my sore knuckles. Flint has a hard head.

The woods are quiet and I look over expecting Lir to still be sleeping. He’s not there. “Lir?” I call out, but there’s no response.

He left? I thought we’d gotten somewhere last night, at least a tentative truce, a mutual reliance on each other, but I guess not. One of these days I will learn my lesson about being kind to people who don’t deserve it. Hopefully it’s the same day I learn the lesson about how to figure out who
does
deserve it.

Stupid alien. No, stupid me for taking him at his word. I broke him out of jail and this is how he repays me? By ditching me when we’ve barely gotten started? My plan, crappy as it is, will not work without Lir’s help to get me into the city. I’ve got to find him. Unused to the forest and somewhat injured, he couldn’t have gotten very far.

I pull on my boots and I’m into the trees in minutes. I scan the area, looking for the signs of his passage. A broken branch points me in the right direction and it isn’t long before I find a footprint.

I creep through the woods, carefully placing my feet so not to disturb the quiet. I’m not good with people, but I know the woods and I know how to move through the forest in near silence. A few minutes later, I hear a curse and scramble up a tree to get a better view. About twenty feet from my perch is Lir sitting on a fallen log. His face is pale and sweaty. He runs his hands through his hair and stands up, turning in a circle and looking panicked. He curses again and kicks the log.

My hands catches my giggle, but not quickly enough. He freezes, moving only his eyes around, searching out the source of the noise.

“Jax?” He scans the area around him. “Is that you?” When I don’t respond, he starts walking in my direction. “Who’s out there?”

I wait until he is practically underneath me before dropping out of the tree and landing on the ground behind him. He spins around, his eyes wide.

“Where were you going, Lir?”

Redness floods his face. “I needed to relieve myself,” he says to his shoes. “I got lost.”

I want to believe him, but should I? “You must have snuck away awfully quietly.”

“I did not want to wake you.” He’s still talking to his shoes, but he looks up and smiles sheepishly at me.

Whether he’s telling the truth or not, he must realize now that I was right when I told him he’d need me, that he can’t make it back on his own. “I’m sure you would have eventually wandered around in a circle and found your way back,” I say

“I suppose so,” he says. “But thank you for finding me anyway.”

We head back to our makeshift campsite and pack up. Rather, Lir tries to just stuff everything back in the pack and I roll my eyes and end up packing for both of us. You can’t just shove stuff in. It has to be folded and fit together, otherwise it just won’t work. He offers to carry the satchel as well as his pack, but I refuse. I’m holding on to the map. Lack of survival skills or not, he might still have a sense of direction.

Once everything is put away and my knife is back in its hilt in my boot, we set off; me, gauging direction by the angle of the sun, and Lir following along behind me.