Wasteland (Flight) (14 page)

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“Thank you, but it’s in the past. There’s nothing I can do now but try to figure it all out before I ascend to the throne. If I can solve it, then maybe I can lead my people as strongly as he did.”

I can see it in his strained eyes how much work he has put into this, how his siblings must treat him, and why he needed to pretend to disappear.

“So what’s in the book?”

“Stories,” Asher replies. “Tales, history, theories of power and how it can be transferred. There are notes all over the margins in this book. They all relate to the energy within the soul, and the possibilities that could arise by compounding them.”

“Souls, you mean?”

“Yes. I believe my father harvested the souls of others to transplant into himself, and then into me. The last soul he transferred was his own. He gave up his power, his life, to create me.”

“But you aren’t…” I begin.

“Frightening?” Asher jokes. I roll my eyes.

“You aren’t feral, or monstrous. I heard Darcy howling in your mother’s chambers, like she was wild, but you’re nothing like her,” I continue.

Asher lets out a quick chuckle. “Not always. Not yet. Darcy decided to take a Wilding, to find the beast within herself. When she came back, she was nothing but an animal. But I’m not always in control, Piper. Sometimes a demon comes over me, and I lose every modicum of civility I have. I’ve killed, I’ve feasted; I’ve ransacked rooms and halls and villages. There’s another side of me that is dangerous and far too powerful. I hope you never have to see it.”

I picture Asher angry, using his hard muscles and sharp talons to maim and murder and feed, but it doesn’t look right in my mind. To me, he can only be the Asher I see now: calm, focused, inquisitive, and slightly sad.

“You’re wrong. I see no monster within you. You’re a sparrow. Your heart is worth more than any person I’ve ever met,” I saw.

“Sparrow,” he repeats, chuckling. “I haven’t heard that one before. I’m not proud of what lies within me, but I won’t stop. I won’t give up on trying to destroy it.”

“We all have demons within us. It’s a part of who we are.”

He looks at me, his lips spread wise over his previously pained expression. “I think I’ve rubbed off on you,” he says. I smile back.

“I think you have, too.”

He quickly leans over the table, catching my lips with his. My body buzzed and I push back. I crawl over the table to be closer to him, and his fingers weave through my hair. Then he stops me, studies me.

“I never thought I’d meet anyone like you. I want you to know that,” he says breathlessly.

“I didn’t either. But I’m glad I did,” I whisper back. The light from the sun has nearly disappeared. I want Asher to kiss me deeply again, but he gives me a single peck on the tip of my nose.

“I need to get you back home before they send an army to collect you,” he says. I should be happy, but I’m not. Never before have I felt so liberated and free. Or afraid to go back to my old life.

“When will I see you again?”

His smile is so addictive, I just want to melt into it.

“Every second I can,” he replies. “But right now it’s time to go. Are you ready?”

I nod. I grab my weapons from his bedroom, making sure I haven’t left anything behind.

“Wait… how are we getting there?”

Asher grins wickedly and points to the open window.

“By air, of course.”

Asher leaves me at the closest entrance to Central—the tower. He drops me off just out of sight. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him fiercely until he takes my breath away.

“We’ll be together again. Soon,” he whispers, then he takes off into the night.

I trudge back to Central, and as soon as I reach the borders I’m assailed by two guards. I’m so tired right now I don’t even bother to resist. One of the guards pulls my ID out of my pack and blanches.

“Sorry. Move along.” He turns his gaze to the ground.

When I make it to Rupert’s office, everyone is already there. They’re sitting in the meeting room, outlining a plan I assume is meant to save me. I clear my throat, and even Rupert’s eyes widen at the sight of me.

“Oh my God, Piper!” Essa exclaims.

“I’m okay,” I manage to mumble. Then I notice something wrong. David isn’t here, and Tor sits in his usual place. He leaps up and wraps his arms around me. His touch feels cold and alien to me, but I force myself to squeeze him back.

“You have no idea how scared I was,” he whispers in my ear. I gently push him away, forcing a smile.

“Where’s David?” I ask. They all look at each other, playing Russian Roulette with their eyes. Finally Essa gives in.

“He’s out looking for you. When we escaped, he refused to come back until he found you.”

“So he’s out in the Wasteland?”

This entire time I’ve been just fine in the Harpy city, while my friends and brother have been worried sick. I wouldn’t be surprised if they could see the guilt steaming off of me.

“Call off the mission and the search. She’s here,” Rupert reports into his walkie.

“What’s the mission?” I eye the diagram up on the screen. It’s of the Harpy city, with stations set up around the gates. “Were you going to invade the city?”

“Sit down, Piper,” Rupert commands. I drop into the nearest chair, the others sitting around me. “You’ve missed a lot the past two days.”

Rupert moved back to the front of the room and lights a fresh cigar. “First of all, I need you to know how happy I am that you are here and safe. I can also say that it is a relief that we do not need to strike the city.”

Smoke billows form his mouth. The notion that they would jumpstart the war to rescue me still hasn’t sunk in. And David is out there somewhere. I can only hope he heard Rupert calling off the search.

“Now that you’re here, I would like to let you know that the infiltration was a success. Even though you did not carry out the entire plan, we have stirred up the Harpies enough that they know not to fuck with us.”

He presses a button on the wall. “Charlene, send Atwood in,” he says. The doors opens and the tech saunters in. His posture is straight and his gaze is level and serious. Rupert walks to meet him and pats him on the back. “A job well done, Atwood.”

Sandy smiles politely. “Thank you, sir.”

“I’ve brought you in here for a reason. Your work has made it possible for us to develop a whole new field of work. Come work for us, here in Central,” Rupert says.

“Thank you sir, and I mean no disrespect in saying this, but I am very happy in Ichton. I gratefully decline,” Sandy responds.

Rupert’s lip twitches, but he smiles at the tech. “Very well, for now. But perhaps another time the offer will seem more lucrative.”

Sandy bows his head, and before he leaves, he smiles at me.

“Good to see you back, Piper. You’ll have to tell me all about your escape.”

I return his smile, but drop it once the door is closed. I still haven’t thought about what my escape story is. I’m hoping everyone will excuse me for going through something traumatic. Thankfully the door springs open before anyone can ask me.

“Pie!”

I look over at my brother, leaping into his arms. He squeezes me tight, maybe too tight. It’s a bit strange. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I’ve been searching everywhere,” he says.

I should feel happy, and wanted, and relieved. But I don’t. I feel everyone’s eyes on me.

I feel judgment, and doubt. I feel Tor’s resentment at my avoidance. I feel Rupert’s frustration at being humiliated by a young tech. I feel David, still squeezing me like he’ll never let me go.

Like I shouldn’t be let go.

Skewers of meat and cheese roast over an open fire, sending my stomach growling. I flush a little, hoping the heat of the flame will disguise it from Fife. He sits across from me, his eyes searching, inquisitive. He’s broad and strong, but there’s something about him, about the way he holds himself.

“You’re Human, aren’t you?” I ask. He looks at the fire, smiling wryly.

“You could tell that quickly?”

“Oh, no. I didn’t mean it that way. I just wasn’t expecting it. You lead well,” I say quickly.

“Thank you. You know, not everyone knows that I’m not a Hunter. It isn’t that I want to keep it a secret, but sometimes the others discount me when they discover it. I sometimes feel… inadequate,” he says.

“There’s nothing wrong with being Human, Captain Fife. Your skills come from your experience and training, not from how you were born. They come from your heart,” I say soothingly. He sighs, like he’s probably heard all of this before.

“I must apologize,” he says. “I never meant to spill my insecurities onto you. I suppose it’s because, well… You are the face that we fight for. It is your courage that we draw upon in battle.”

I try not to frown, but my mouth forces its way into one anyway. “It feels so bizarre whenever anyone says that. I feel like an imposter. I didn’t do anything. I was just in a cell for who knows how long with needles in my arms. I’m no inspiration,” I say. It’s strange, but it feels so relieving to get it out to someone I don’t know.

He shakes his head at me. “You’re wrong. You had the bravery to stand up to Rupert Elder for what you believed in. You risked everything. Not many people can say that.”

This time I laugh.

“I did it for love. I did it all for love,” I murmur, then whisper. The Captain pulls the skewers from the fire before they burn. He hands mine to me.

“It doesn’t matter what you did or didn’t do, you know that, right? People need something to fight for. Even if you didn’t do what everyone says you have, they will still look to you when their courage begins to wilt. You are allowed to be proud of that. There’s nothing wrong in that,” he says. I offer him a smile, trying to let it all sink in.

Guilt. That’s what I’ve been feeling. Guilt that I’m not this shining symbol I’ve been made to be. But Captain Fife is right. At this point, what I have or haven’t done is irrelevant. The people have created a small legend of me, but that isn’t
me
. We are not the same person. The martyr they look up to exists only in their minds. And that’s okay.

“Thank you, Captain Fife.”

“Please. Call me Drew,” he says. I nod as I take a bite of the crispy meat.

“Thank you, Drew. And thank you for taking me on in the fight.”

“Ahh, yes. I suppose we ought to talk strategy,” he replies.

“Or we could just keep talking,” I say.

But we eat in silence, letting the crackle of the fire speak for us. We don’t need to go over plans or strategy. I know there isn’t one. The goal is just to stay alive.

The stink of war follows me when I return to camp from the battle. Of all my years of fighting and training, nothing can possibly compare to this. So much death, blood, ashes. My body is covered in mud and dust.

But as I reach the main fire, I’m comforted by the sight of my comrades, all filthy like me, but with ruddy smiles on their faces. They honor the dead not by mourning them, but by continuing to fight.

I’ve never felt so much like I belong here, like this is my purpose.

Familiar faces greet me at the fire; men and women I fought with, Harpies I watched soar overhead. They smile at me, raising their drinks. I nod. Then I see three figures in the throng I never thought I’d see again. A young girl, an old woman, and a burly man.

I approach them quietly. Confusing runs through me. How did they live? Should I be happy they survived, or bitter that they were going to kill me?

Fig notices me first. “It’s you,” she says. Her voice has changed, matured. She doesn’t look like the spunky girl I met so long ago, but like a determined young woman.

“Yes, it’s me. I… don’t really know what to say.”

The old woman hobbles toward me. Fig tries to stop her, but she swats the girl away like a fly.

“There is nothing to be said, girl. Here we all begin as comrades. Let the past be,” she says.

Our gazes link, and there is immediate understanding between us. That the terrors behind us no longer matter.

“How did you survive?”

Fig’s eyes still burn at me. “We saw the gas coming, so we suited up. There were still many survivors, but also many dead,” she claims. Brin, surprisingly, nudges her hard in the back.

“That’s enough, Fig,” the brusque man says. The girl stomps and walks away. Brin looks at me. “She knows the incident was as much our fault as anyone’s, but she still cannot accept it. She will come around.”

I nod. It’s still a shock just to see them alive.

“We must go after her. Stay strong, Hunter,” the old woman says. And suddenly I’m alone again, but not quite alone. The faces around me still beam in my direction. They exude warmth and understanding. Loyalty and courage.

I lug myself to my tent. My muscles burn from being on my feet all day. I’ll also need to find whatever we’re using to bathe ourselves here. I think I noticed a steam room. At any rate, I stink.

But when I reach my tent, I’m surprised to see a light already flickering inside. I quicken my pace and flip open the burlap flap-door.

Grier sits inside, perched on my bed. She’s practicing loading and unloading her gun at lightning speed.

“Hi,” I say. I didn’t even talk to her about leaving.

“So you decided to fight,” she says, not looking at me.

“I felt I could offer the most here,” I reply, matching her stoicism. She sighs, dropping the gun on the bed.

“You know, when you were gone I had to pick up the pieces. I thought being you must have been so easy. Even after that Hunt I still held this grudge inside me, I just faked it because it was easier than being angry all the time. Then it was up to me to take the lead, and I was scared shitless. I didn’t realize my anger toward you had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me. My… inadequacies,” she says. I try to butt in, but she silences me with her hand.

“I’ve learned a lot. I’ve learned how to deal with death and hard choices, and I learned that being you isn’t easy. Having so many people relying on me is exhausting. But when we rescued you, for some reason I thought things would go back to the way they were, and I didn’t want that. I wanted the burden. I wanted the responsibility. Is that crazy?”

I move to sit beside her on the bed. “Not at all. It has become a part of you, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re a good leader, Grier. You’re sharp and focused and determined. You belong where you are for a reason,” I offer. She sniffles a bit through a wry laugh.

“So you didn’t leave because you thought I wasn’t good enough to work for?”

I want to slap her for being so silly, but instead I pat her on the arm. “No. I left because I don’t belong there. There’s nothing more I can do. But here I can save lives, maybe save the world. My heart is here know. This is where I want to be,” I say, reassuring her.

She nods, her demeanor remaining as tough as always. She’s not faking it anymore.

“I’m glad you’re back, Piper. We’ve needed you.”

“Asher’s not coming back, you know,” I whisper, trying to hold the pieces of myself together.

“I know.” Nothing else needs to be said.

“I’d better get cleaned up and rested for tomorrow. We’re holding the line well, but there will be more to battle tomorrow.”

Grier grabs her gun and jumps from the bed. She looks at me, possibly seeing me as just another Hunter in her eyes for the first time. Not Ace Piper Madden. Just Piper.

“I’ll let Captain Fife know he’s just landed himself his new second-in-command,” she states, holding her hand out for mine.

I shake it firmly, the grime from my hands rubbing off on hers. “It’s a pleasure to fight with you,” I say with a nod. A smile breaches her lips before she leaves my tent, leaving me with battle plans and explosions and flames burning in my mind.

I lie back on the bed, wishing I could see the sky, and not at the same time.

Somewhere in those stars I know I’ll find Asher, and even though I should give up on him, I can’t.

I’ll keep fighting for him, for us.

Until I stop breathing.

Glittering around me, the Elder Corp ballroom is aglow with hundreds of tiny lights strung around tall pillars. I’m surrounded by hundreds of people; each dressed more lavishly in handsome tuxedos and twirling gowns, their eyes shielded by slender masks.

Music begins to play, swelling the room with gentle crescendos as the people start dancing. I feel a hand on my shoulder and know it’s Tor beneath the plain black mask, gesturing toward the floor. He guides me, his strong hand at my waist until we’re standing in the middle of the floor. Taking my hand in his, he leads me into a slow waltz, swaying with the music.

His scent mingles with my senses, the reliable smell of laundry soap and peppermint reminding me of how it feels to be home, and I squeeze my eyes shut, letting the haze of familiarity wash over me. I miss him right now, wishing he could always be there to save me. The song slows to an end, leaving the dancers momentarily static.

I feel a figure nearing my back, and feel Tor’s muscles clench. A man, tall and lean with shiny black hair and an extravagant purple mask stands beside us, tapping Tor on the shoulder.

“May I cut in?” he asks. Tor looks at me with confusion in his eyes, but I nod that it’s okay. He steps away from me and I’m whisked away by the masked man, his every move as graceful and lethal as a tiger’s.

“What are you doing here?” I ask quietly. There is an edge creeping through my body as a slower song is played.

“Seeing what all of the fuss is about at this soiree. It’s almost perfect, isn’t it? The bright lights and fancy music, the pretty dresses. The masks are a great touch, aren’t they? This way no one can see who I am,” he replies. He holds me closer, his fingers applying gentle pressure onto my back. I can see Tor in the crowded table area, his eyes never leaving us as we twirl about the room.