The Endless Skies

by Shannon Price

  Red seeps through the paper like ink. I barely hear the others asking what I am holding as I shakily peel back the wet parchment. “Skies alive,” I say. “She’s saved us.”

  “Who?” Io asks just as Seth does.

  I lower my hand, and they all see it plain as day—the cure, wilted and wet but intact. Gingerly, I separate a few of the tightly pressed petals, counting them in my head. For a moment, none of us speak. The relief floods me again like a dam broken anew.

  “How?” Callen asks.

  I close my hand around the precious cure. “I’ll explain on the way. Hand that to me,” I say, reaching for his waterskin. I quickly dump out the dregs before gently funneling the flowers inside. “‘A petal a year, a stem a season.’ This is more than enough for the prince and all the other kids.”

  “The prince?” Io frowns, her dark brows drawing in as her gaze demands answers from me. My jaw goes slack. Skies, I never wanted to give this news once, let alone twice.

  Seth steps up, placing his hand on Io’s shoulder in respect. “That, I will explain on the way. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  Minutes later, Io is cursing up a storm. “We have to get back before it’s too late.”

  We trudge through the hilly terrain, using the river as our guide. I walk beside Callen and Seth, the latter even more pensive than usual. Io takes the lead while Jai and Ox hold the rear.

  Ramsgate looks smaller as we leave it. The river and the distraction at the city gave us a lead, but the humans will take to their horses and have the dogs sniff us out soon. Hopefully, the river gave us some cover, but we can’t rely on it.

  We need faster transportation, but without wings, we’re stuck going at what feels like a snail’s pace. It feels good to be among faces I know, but the physical toll of staying so active is already hitting me. The only good thing Ellian did was give me breakfast. I keep a hand on the waterskin with the cure, as if letting go would make it disappear.

  Once we have put some distance between us and the city, Io asks for a full explanation. I recount all of it the best I can, from Ellian’s story to the secret patch of the cure that Isla showed me. I leave out the joy in her eyes when she practiced her Leonodai with me. There is a part of Isla—a large part—that needs more than Ellian is ever going to be able to offer.

  “Isla knows she’s Leonodai,” I say. “And eventually, she’ll be found out by more humans than just Marchess. I wish I could have taken her with us.”

  “You didn’t know what Ellian would do,” Ox offers kindly. “She’ll find her way home someday.”

  “I hope so.” Isla deserves to know the history of her namesake and of all her people. Maybe someday, I will meet her again.

  The day stretches on and on. We have enough water from the river, but food is scarce. Jai shares the rest of his rations, and I hold the tiny pieces of dried berries on my tongue as long as I can. I keep pace near Callen, not wanting to be far from him ever again. Is it possible for love to be realized in a single, horrible moment? Is it real?

  I glance at my best friend, and I know. Yes, yes, it is.

  When we next speak alone, I want it to be right. And Ox … I didn’t imagine those feelings. I don’t know how I’m going to say what I have to. Something about the past days has made it all clear, and when it came down to it—my being scared, alone, and captured by the humans—it wasn’t Ox’s arms I wanted around me. It was Callen’s.

  Still, this isn’t the time for painfully honest conversations, however necessary. Nothing is as important as getting to Prince Tabrol.

  Afternoon sets in, and I realize that Seth hasn’t spoken a word to me all day. I would have expected him to check in as he usually would. When Io finally calls for a short rest at long after dusk, he keeps close to her and Jai. The former is in his cohort, sure, but something is off.

  We climb higher up a mountain ridge than my exhausted body would like—but I see why Io picks this spot. The bluff is backed by a sheer rock face to one side, while thick foliage and trees enclose us on the left. If we are found, Ox and Jai would still be able to attack with whatever arrows they have left, and the rest of us could retreat into the trees.

  After some deliberation, Io gives the okay to get a fire going, but only a small one and as hidden as we can get it. The six of us huddle close to the flames, desperate for warmth. Ox finds a place across from the fire, and I’m grateful for the distance between us.

  Jai and Ox leave for a while to hunt, returning with some berries, foraged roots, and a plump quail. It’s not much, but it’s something. The ache disappears from my stomach as I eat while Io and Seth debate how long to rest. The fire snaps and cracks as it burns, and I focus on its light.

  I can’t help but think of the last fire I saw, the one I set at Storm’s End. How was my mother doing? I hope Shirene had visited. Vera would, too, once she realized I had truly left.

  “So, how did you find us back there?” Seth asks Io, breaking my reverie.

  “We got to the city this morning and were holed up in some neglectful gardener’s plot.” she replies, running a cloth up and down her curved shortsword. The metal gleams in the firelight. “When we ventured out, the streets were mostly empty. We followed the sounds to the arena. Once I saw you fighting in there, I gave the orders that would get you out.” Io waves her hand idly. “You know the rest. Rescue, running. River.”

  “Thank the skies for you,” Seth says. “I owe you a drink once we’re home.”

  “I’ll remind you of it,” she replies, but her cheer fades quickly. “I was afraid no one else survived the attack at the Cliffs. The humans have gotten smarter.”

  “We avoided the worst by diving into the trees early.” He fills her in on the rest of their journey and how they met up with me. He tells her about Exin, about his and Ox and Callen’s capture. “The train was a lucky break.”

  “We should look for it again,” Io muses. “A train is our best hope, now that Tabrol is sick.” She sighs. “I can’t believe Ellian betrayed her own people.”

  “I don’t understand, either, Commander,” I say. I fiddle with the end of my short hair and gaze into the fire. “I don’t know which parts of her story were true. All of it could have been a lie.”

  I want to believe that parts of Ellian’s story were sincere, but the only part I feel sure of is that she loves Isla. Is it right of her to keep her daughter away from the Heliana? I picture Bel welcoming his little cousin to a new home, taking pride in teaching her everything she should have been learning her whole life.

  “Speaking of not being honest,” Seth says. “Rowan, how did you know that phrase you said on the riverbank?”

  A lump grows in my throat. “What?”

  “The one about the cure. ‘A petal a year, a stem a season.’ The sentinels told that to the warrior teams right before we were sent out. They didn’t say it when warriors-elect were also in the Tower. You said the warriors-elect were sent to tell the existing teams about Tabrol. The sentinels wouldn’t have needed to share the saying with you to do that.”

  Five pairs of eyes swivel to me. “I…”

  “Warrior-Elect,” says Seth slowly. “How did you know that saying?”

  My title. He used my title. It’s the same nonsense Shirene pulled—using my rank against me. Hadn’t I just fought with them? Walked all day with tired legs and tired limbs—

  I am exhausted. And I am done. If I am going to start being honest with everyone in my life, I might as well start now.

  I raise my head to hide my fear. “The sentinels are lying about where their information is from. They’ve lied from the start. The scholars didn’t know anything about the cure, but the sentinels knew of someone who did—the deserter, Noam. He’s the one who has been helping us. Without him, we’d know nothing.”

  “That’s absurd,” Seth replies flatly. “How would you know if the sentinels were lying?”

  “Because Sentinel Shirene told me,” I fire back, making damn sure to emphasize
her name. “It was an accident, but she’s the one who let it slip. Once I realized what was going on, I went and found Noam on my own. He told me about the cure and how it works. The sentinels lied when they said they didn’t know where he was. And they had to keep up their lie when they explained how they found out about the cure.”

  I let the words pour out of me. If I stop, someone will start to chastise me, and I am done with people thinking they know more than I do because I am younger, or because I haven’t taken the oath. As if that makes a difference with who I am and what I stand for.

  “Noam is staying in the palace. He has been since the sentinels realized they needed his help,” I continue. “I talked with him myself. Since he deserted, he’s lived peacefully with the humans. That’s what they’ve wanted all along. Did you know the humans offered peace before? I didn’t. And that’s because the king and sentinels turned them down.”

  With the weight of both commanders’ judgment bearing down on me, I barely keep the courage to keep my head up. “Seth,” I say. “Please say something.”

  He looks away. “I don’t know what to say. You deserted.”

  “I didn’t desert,” I protest. “Not really. I had to go. I was the only one who knew everything.” The firelight casts desperate shadows on the rocks around us. “You know me. You know I would only do what was right.”

  “What would have been right,” he says, standing up, “was for you to never have left the Heliana and to have trusted that the sentinels know what they’re doing. The sentinels and scholars are one voice, and that keeps the city safe. Children are dying as we speak. If what you say is true, and Noam helping us after all, what good would it have been to remind the people of his disloyalty?”

  I don’t know. But I stand up, too, meeting Sethran face-to-face. “I wanted to make a difference, Commander. And I did. I survived long enough to find Isla and the cure. Without me, you’d be empty-handed, and Tabrol would be dead long before you decided to call off the mission. I am not afraid of the consequences at home. Not anymore. I can defend my actions. Loyalty above all. Sir.”

  “Enough,” says Io. “Sit down, both of you. Orders or no orders, we’re no good to the prince or any of the other sick kids if we bicker ourselves to death out here.” The bite fades from her tone. “For now, we rest. That’s an order. Especially for you, Warrior-Elect.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” But I don’t sit back down. Instead, I walk determinedly away from the rest of them and take a spot alone in the shadows of the nearby trees. Leaning against a sturdy redwood, I bring my hands to my face and breathe. In, out. In, out. Don’t let any of them hear your crying.

  Deserter. The word rings in my mind like a bell. Sethran’s disappointment is palpable, but I didn’t desert. It wasn’t like that, not entirely.

  But if Sethran isn’t able to see past my actions to my intentions, what hope do I have that the king will? You’ll save his son, I think, gripping the waterskin at my hip. You’ll have saved the city.

  It will be enough. It has to be.

  38

  CALLEN

  I volunteer for first watch. Looking at Rowan alone by the trees, I know I wouldn’t be able to sleep, anyway. We keep the fire going, but only just, as the night insects chirp louder and the stars take hold in the sky.

  “Don’t get cocky, Callen,” says Io as she turns away. “The moment your wits start to leave you, tag in someone else. We can’t take any chances.”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  No way in the skies are my wits going to leave me right now. I’m tired, but Rowan is hurting. I want to be there for her, if she wants me there. Io, Jai, and Sethran go to sleep right away, but Ox stays up. He and Jai had split the remaining Leonodai arrows. He runs his fingers idly against the fletching.

  “Did you know she left without orders?” he asks quietly.

  He doesn’t say deserted. I nod.

  “When did she tell you?”

  “Does it matter?” I reply. “She did what she felt was right. What was right.”

  Ox sets the quiver aside. “Callen, how many times do you think we’ve sparred?”

  “What?” I ask.

  “Over the years of training. How many times?”

  “What does that matter?” We trained together for four years. The number would be in the hundreds.

  “I remember us being pretty evenly matched.” Ox inclines his head in the direction of the trees. “Just funny that I’d lose when it mattered most. I had a feeling she’d choose you.”

  What? Heat rises to my face. “I don’t think she has.”

  “Then your observation skills need some work” is his reply. “She went to you in the arena like no one else was there. When she did that, I knew. Once you know who you want to die next to, you know who you want to live for.” He shakes his head. “And it isn’t me.”

  Io rolls over with a groan, a scowl on her face. “I thought I gave an order to rest.”

  Ox exhales a small laugh. When Io turns back, he inclines his head to the trees again and mouths the word go.

  * * *

  When I’m confident everyone save Ox is asleep, I walk over to Rowan, keeping my movements as controlled and as quiet as possible. Is Ox right? He and I had been competing for her heart long before I realized it. I want to hope. I want him to be right.

  She turns when a twig snaps under my foot. I put a finger to my lips and point farther into the forest.

  We walk just far enough away from the group that they won’t hear us if we whisper.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  Rowan tilts her head up. We’re so close that I feel her breath on my cheek. “It doesn’t matter. We have to save the prince. That’s it.”

  “They would have found out eventually.”

  “I know,” she says. “That’s why it doesn’t matter.” She gives me a weak smile. “I could use a hug, though.”

  I put my arms around her in an instant. I bury my face in her neck, and she does the same in mine. Am I making things up, or did her lips brush my skin? I move to let go. She doesn’t.

  “I know this still isn’t about us,” she says into my ear, her voice tiny. “But I want to say I’m sorry. When the humans captured me, I thought for sure that was the end.” Rowan pauses a moment. “But I wanted you there. I wanted you there with me, for better or worse.” She loosens her arms from the hug, but keeps them around me. Her fingertips come to a rest at my neck. “I love you.”

  I don’t have to think. “I love you, too.”

  She pulls me in, and I swear by the skies the magic inside my heart flares up to meet the magic in hers.

  I kiss her hard, trying to put into one kiss a lifetime of loving her and being her friend, trying to put into one kiss how sorry I am that we got separated at all. How glad I am that she is alive, and here.

  All at once, my mind clears completely. It’s just me and Ro, Ro and me.

  I wrap my arms around her waist and up her back, pressing her tightly against me. I can’t get enough of her body against mine. I’d never felt it like this, pushing up against me with an energy that was equal parts surprise and disbelief, eagerness and inevitability. We part to catch our breath, but one look at the wild glint in Rowan’s eyes draws me right back in. I throw myself into the longing, the ache of having loved her for so long.

  And it’s not just me. The longer I hold her, the more Rowan leans up to meet my lips, her hands running through my hair.

  When she pulls back, she’s breathing hard. “Wow.”

  “Wow,” I echo. I put my forehead to hers. “Ro, what changed?”

  She sighs. “I think … I think that I knew, but a part of me wasn’t ready. And I only listened to that part.” Rowan pulls back. “I have to apologize to Ox.”

  Oh. I swallow. “How you feel isn’t really your fault.”

  “This was,” she replies, pushing against me again. The sensation sends me reeling. “Will you still want me if they don’t let me become a warrior?”


  “Of course,” I say. “No matter what happens, I want to be at your side. For as long as you’ll have me.”

  “Okay,” she says. I take her hand, and we walk back to the camp. Together.

  39

  SHIRENE

  Sleep is a blessing.

  With the other sentinels on watch tonight and the remaining warriors ready to defend against the next attack, I had been sent away for rest. I didn’t fight it. I barely have the foresight to pull the pins from my hair before collapsing onto my bed.

  I wake in fits and bursts, my heart racing as my mind tricks me into hearing sounds that aren’t there. Each time, I lie there, totally still, waiting for the droning to return and the roars of our defenses to sound in response.

  But the only sound that greets me is that of the ocean below us, growing louder with each hour as the prince’s health slips away as quickly as a falling star. Last I saw the curly-haired boy, he was barely able to open his eyes, and coughing so much …

  The memory erases any hopes of further sleep. When the bells toll, I count the hours—at least I got a full night’s rest.

  I bathe quickly and redress in a new set of robes. I keep my hair back the way Rowan likes to have hers: a tight braid tied off at my shoulders, though it doesn’t have the same effect with my hair’s shorter length.

  I head outside to survey the city and check for fresh damage. The sun rises early and fast, reminding me of the season. Is it really still summer? It feels like months have passed in the span of days. The citizens should still be recounting their festival memories, not hiding in boarded-up homes and trying to keep themselves and their children calm. At this hour, the only sounds are those of the forges. I fly there, landing in the street adjacent to the city’s most prominent weaponsmith.

  I call out a greeting. The owner, a larger Leonodai with a grizzled beard and face smeared with sweat and soot, responds when he sees me. “Greetings, Sentinel.”