Architects of Ether

by Ryan Muree

  “But that wasn’t you. It was Revelians—”

  “It might as well have been me, and I’m stuck thinking this is what happens. This is how fighters become old and grumpy. Everyone looks like a target or a threat. That man was Revelian, and we all just let her kill him.”

  “We didn’t exactly let her.” She looked up at him. “I tried talking to her before about leading, but she does what she wants. And as the Zephyrs’ leader, I don’t think they felt like they could stop her. And let’s be honest—should they have?”

  “What?”

  “Hall caused the death of tons of people. He’d betrayed his country, my country. I had asked her to stop, too, but I couldn’t blame her. And death… isn’t the end.”

  He kissed her eyebrow. “Maybe.”

  “I know you consider the Goddess to be merciful, but—”

  “The Goddess saved her enemy. She didn’t chuck them off an airship thousands of feet above an ocean with a weight strapped to his neck.”

  Emeryss winced. “That’s true.”

  He sighed. “I understand why she did it, and if we’d brought him back to Revel, they would have executed him, too. I was… more shocked I felt that way.”

  “I think war changes everyone.”

  His thumb ran along her side, tickling her beneath the fabric of her suit and urging her to take it off. “At least we got Kimpert to tell us what we needed. Do you believe she really doesn’t know how they’re using the grimoires?”

  She wasn’t sure. “Do we need to know from her? If we can find the airship, then we can figure out how they’re using grimoires. But are you sure you want to do this?”

  He kissed her cheek and her nose. “I want to stop this or figure out enough to be helpful, and if that means I have to return to Stadhold to give them a report, I will.”

  So, he was still planning on returning to Stadhold, then. She understood, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t dreading it. “And your matches…”

  He clicked his tongue. “Stop worrying about the matches.”

  “I’m sorry. You said you knew it would happen eventually. I accept that, but your mom moved it up. You’re risking all of your hard work by avoiding them and possibly getting in trouble over it.”

  “First of all, you’re not getting rid of me. We might have said we’ll try this out until our responsibilities called us back, but I don’t want to go back to Stadhold to be with anyone else.”

  She smiled.

  “Second, I’m trying to save my country. If I come back with information about how Revel is going behind their backs and breaking the treaty, none of what I’ve done will matter.”

  “You hope.” She wound her fingers through the folds of his thin undershirt.

  “I know.” His mouth nestled into her neck below her jaw. “Stadhold values rules and following them, but my first duty is to my Scribe”—he kissed her gently under her ear—”and to my country.”

  She closed her eyes, savoring the heat of his mouth on her skin. He smelled like soap and well-water, but there was still something distinctly behind it that was all Grier. “I’m no longer your Scribe.”

  “Oh really? I seem to forget that part.” His lips curved against her in what must have been a smile. “It seems like they don’t know that either.”

  “Are you scared?” she asked.

  “Very.”

  “Of?”

  “Lots of things.” He nibbled at the edge of her ear. “Falling from heights for one.”

  “I meant scared of going back to Stadhold.” She snickered. “Where in the world would you be falling from?”

  “—And losing you. Dying is also pretty high on that list. Scared of getting caught, scared of what they’d do to us, to you.” He stopped kissing her for a second to look her in the eyes. “I used to have nightmares of you getting caught by the Ingini.”

  She half-smiled. “Really? In Stadhold?”

  “Cold sweats. Shouting. The whole deal. My roommates hated me for it.”

  She moved a piece of blond hair from his forehead. “I’m sorry. That’s terrible.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I just don’t want to see it become a reality. I want to find this airship, see if we’re right about the laser, stop it if we can, and get back.”

  She kissed him. “I want you to come to Neeria with me.”

  “That’s a given. I need to see this ocean you keep bragging about.” He kissed her again, and again, threatening to break her resolve to keep some modicum of privacy. “Is there more privacy there than here?”

  “Barely, but yes.” She giggled between breaths.

  “You know what I say?” he whispered. “Screw the thin screens. If they want to listen to us—”

  “We don’t!” Vaughn shouted from his bunk.

  Emeryss laughed.

  “You know,” Grier said loudly enough for the crew to hear, “when I was in training, roommates would set times to be conveniently away for those who wanted privacy.”

  “And it’s not at midnight in enemy territory, Grier,” Urla said from her bunk below them. “Keep it in your pants for a few more days.”

  He fell forward against Emeryss’s shoulder with a grunt, and she giggled.

  After the Zephyr and being this close and this stressed, some time with Grier would relieve an enormous amount of anxiety.

  If he was adamant about fighting the urgency of his matches in the middle of a war, then she’d trust him. He knew Stadhold better than she ever would, and she believed him when he said he wasn’t interested in that aspect of his future yet.

  Still, nothing said they couldn’t have a little fun.

  She lifted his shirt, running her hands over his torso and kissing where she could, though she tried to be silent about it.

  He shivered and found the zipper at the back of her neck. Bending toward her ear, he whispered, “Is this a game?”

  She lifted a finger to her mouth to say she was being silent and shrugged. Drawing him closer, she went to his ear. “First one to make a sound loses, and we have to quit.”

  She nibbled at his ear lobe and he sighed, his hands already pulling down her zipper and peeling away the suit from her front.

  She wrapped herself around him because the bunks hadn’t been made for this. Two people had to sleep atop the other or pressed against. There was no room to sit up.

  She slipped his pants loose, exploring every inch of him until he inhaled and his muscles tensed.

  Sonora gave an exasperated sigh in the bunk above them.

  “They’re trying to be silent about it, aren’t they?” Mykel asked.

  “Yes,” Sonora said.

  Grier groaned. “You all are the worst. Why did I agree to this?”

  Emeryss grinned and nuzzled into his arm.

  They’d get their time eventually.

  Chapter 17

  Ingini coast

  Clove smoothed back her ponytail and walked out of the airship into the sand.

  Jahree had asked her to meet him on the beach. She wasn’t sure what for, but it was obviously preferable to an enclosed airship with a snoring crew.

  She found him sitting on a mottled-gray tarp with his knees drawn up and facing the dark ocean with a moonless sky. A small ether-lamp sat beside him.

  “Couldn’t take the snoring?” she asked.

  He shook his head and looked up at her. “Pigyll is a pretty cool ship, but damn if I don’t miss my own room.”

  She lowered herself next to him and folded her legs. “You’re not the only one. If I have to watch Grier and Emeryss give each other one more sex-hungry look, I’ll stab my eyes out.”

  They sat, listened, waited.

  Had he just wanted her company? Not that she was complaining.

  He finally pointed at the water. “It’s not so bad here. Less ether-smog, no moldy buildings…”

  “If you think that’s a compliment, you’d be mistaken.”

  He laughed and shook his head. His dark eyes glittered in the
ether-lamp. “Yeah, I’m terrible at this.”

  “Terrible at what?”

  “Flirting, I guess.” He sighed.

  Flirting?

  Jahree was trying to flirt. Huh.

  Well, and so, what? Was it that terrible? She’d dismissed the idea of them before, because of their situation, but he was smart, capable, caring, and a damn good pilot, too. That alone made him better than ninety-percent of everyone else.

  And he wasn’t exactly hard to look at. Gorgeous eyes, thick eyelashes, strong features. If she ignored the fact that he worked for the enemy and spent his life kissing up to a king, he was passable for…

  For what exactly?

  A relationship? Neither one of them wanted that.

  Something else, then?

  And what did he have that Mack didn’t? Or any other Ingini for that matter?

  Then again, he’d been the one to pull her out of her busted airship, took care of her on the Zephyr, asked her name because he wanted to use it when speaking with her… But those were things any half-decent person would do, right?

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked, peering at her from the corner of his eye.

  Adalai didn’t do those things when she was in that cage. Vaughn, even Emeryss and Sonora, hadn’t moved to help her as much as Jahree had.

  “About… how much things have changed,” she said.

  He bobbed his head in a nod.

  “I know we were joking around the other day but thank you for being nice to me when no one else would.”

  He clicked his tongue. “I wasn’t nice, I was just being a decent human treating another decent human how they should be treated. There was nothing nice about it.”

  And that made it harder to remember he was Revelian. She was friends with a Revelian.

  “Are we friends?” she asked.

  He looked at her. “I thought so.”

  “Why?”

  A breath escaped him. “Uh, well…”

  “I mean, you’re nice to everyone, and I understand why you were nice to me, but can we be friends with everything going on?”

  He held up a finger. “First, I’m not nice to everyone. I’m terrible to Adalai when she drives me crazy.”

  “Yeah, but it’s Adalai.”

  He lifted a second finger. “Second, I don’t see how the war has anything to do with us being friends or...” He waved his hand as if she was supposed to fill in the blank.

  Or?

  She wanted him to finish that sentence.

  Or what?

  But he didn’t offer up anything else. He wouldn’t budge unless she asked him.

  “Your turn, now. What are you thinking?” she asked.

  “Honestly?” He turned his chin toward her.

  She nodded. She had to know.

  He took a long, deep breath. “Us.”

  “Us?”

  “You and me. We’re both pilots, we agree on a lot when it comes to everyday things, and family, and relationships. I feel like you might get me more than my own crew does, and it’s just…” He shook his head.

  It was nice for once. To see eye to eye with someone like that. She understood.

  “It’s a relief, you know?” he continued. “It’s also scary, but the world is tough right now and facing things alone is hard. So, to have you in it, to have someone who gets it, I mean, it feels good and makes me…”

  He took another deep breath; she held hers.

  “It makes me want… more?” he said. “Like not permanent, maybe just briefly or something. And you don’t want that kind of relationship with just anyone. I mean, you want to know the person, enjoy the person, otherwise, what are you doing, you know? And I think you don’t mind me that much, and we get along so well. So, I’ve been stuck thinking about us, about you, and now, I’m just rambling.” He laughed at himself.

  So, he hadn’t just been nice to her, and he hadn’t just been treating her like a decent human being would. Maybe in the beginning, but not anymore. It’s why the game of Warstory hurt her feelings, but also why she trusted him to look out for her and help her get her brother back.

  “Jahree, are you hitting on me?” she teased.

  “Well, I don’t invite just anyone to sit and watch the ocean at midnight—”

  She gasped to curb the awkwardness in her chest from his admission. “I should be so lucky—”

  “I’m sorry.” He smiled. “That’s not what I meant.”

  She fought smiling back.

  “I meant…” His words hung in the air between them, but she already understood.

  He’d meant he wanted to be more than friends, but nothing serious. He wanted to not feel alone, but didn’t want to feel attached either. He wanted someone to be close to, but not someone he had to share every aspect of his life with.

  Something—someone—to get through this.

  “Like you said, I get it,” she said.

  “You do?”

  She met his stare with her own. “I do, and I… agree.”

  It’s what Mack could never understand. The concept of anything lasting forever blew up in their faces when their parents had died. While Mack had held on to the dream of happily ever after, she’d learned that all she could ever ask for was happy for right now.

  He slid her ponytail over her shoulder and leaned a few inches closer. “So, I’m not reading too much into this?”

  She swallowed. “No, I don’t think you’re reading too much into this. I mean, it’s like you said. We’re really similar…”

  He leaned in closer, his shoulder against hers. He smelled like ether and Pigyll. “Uh-huh…”

  She didn’t pull away when her heart picked up its pace. “Neither one of us wants anything serious, because the world is too much to handle right now…”

  “Very true.” He lowered his chin and eyed her mouth.

  She nervously licked her lips. “So, it’s just us… for now. No strings attached. No hard feelings.”

  “Exactly.” His breath hitched before he bent to kiss her.

  He tasted like ether smelled. Intoxicating, warm, heady, it was better than she’d expected. It was as intense as his eyes were deep, crashing against her mouth.

  Doing this probably wasn’t the best idea, but she didn’t want it to end either.

  His hand found her neck, her ribs, her waist, pulling her toward him.

  She fingered his collar and the smooth skin just underneath.

  Were they rushing into this? Maybe. But who cared? They were going to be infiltrating a UA base the next day, and there was no way Adalai would let her stay behind. Her life, his life, it could all be over in less than twelve hours. So, what did it matter?

  His thumb teased the side of her breast, and she giggled.

  “Are you laughing at me?” he said between kisses.

  “You move fast.”

  “Is that—?”

  “It’s great.” She pulled him closer.

  So much for doubting and worrying about their situation. She’d clearly been holding back more than she’d realized. Or maybe it’d just been too long since her last time.

  He chuckled once. “I didn’t want to assume—”

  “It’s fine,” she mumbled against his mouth.

  He pushed himself against her, knocking over the ether-lamp. “But do you want to—”

  “Yes, for all the same reasons you want to.” She stroked his tongue with hers.

  “So, we’re both good with no real strings to this?” he whispered.

  “More than good. Just two people…”

  He sucked on her bottom lip. “Letting off steam…”

  She pulled the zipper on his flight suit down a few inches. “A one-time thing…”

  “Friends with brief benefits.” He cupped her breast fully, his thumb scraping across her nipple, and she sucked in.

  His mouth, his kissing, became hurried, forceful, and it left her tongue tingling. She met the force of his with her own. It was the only way to get
this needy feeling in her chest out of her system.

  His hand rubbed down her backside, lifting her hips and resting her under him.

  She lay back, and he entwined their legs as he knelt over her.

  Kissing her chin, her neck, her sternum, her belly button, his mouth followed her suit zipper as he pulled it down to her lower stomach. She arched against him.

  “You’re going to have to forgive me,” he breathed with a smirk. “I’m a little more creative when I’m not on a crappy blanket on a beach, but I don’t think you want sand everywhere.”

  She laughed. “Oh, believe me, I’m judging you. I mean, I’ve only ever done this sort of thing on crappy blankets in random places, so I’d know.”

  “Oh, then I’m totally judging you for having terrible taste in locations.” His smile reached his eyes. “It’s only fair.”

  He snapped apart the clasp of her bra between her breasts and took his mouth and tongue to each one. She whimpered and lifted herself toward him again.

  “Good thing it’s just this one time…” she breathed, losing herself in the sensation.

  He mumbled the words good thing against her skin, and the vibration of the sound and the flick of his tongue woke every nerve in her body.

  Free from her suit, she took a moment to pull his open and down.

  His shoulders, his chest, his stomach, his arms—they were all hard ridges, pure muscle. Every bit a member of the RCA as one would expect, except not on the body of a pilot. Hers, especially. He’d been holding back, keeping a body like that locked up in a suit the whole time.

  Her fingers trailed over him and down between his legs. He exhaled sharply at her touch, his eyes squeezing shut.

  His hand took hers, pulled it from him, and set it to the side.

  Had she offended him?

  “You first,” he breathed in her ear, and his fingers found her aching for release.

  She gasped against his neck, kissing when she could muster the strength and giving into the sensation tugging at her core when she couldn’t.

  Like a drumbeat keeping with the hurried pace of her heart, he played her in just the right spot. The pleasure built so violently, so quickly—had it been seconds or minutes or hours? She latched on tighter and pleaded for more.