An Outcast and an Ally

by Caitlin Lochner

  “Hey, don’t talk like that,” I say. “Everything’s going to be fine.” I know I shouldn’t say stuff like that right before a huge battle—but it’s Lai. If anyone’s going to come out alive and kicking at the end of all this, it’s going to be her.

  She shakes her head. “It’s best to prepare for any possibility.” When I try to argue, she waves me off. “Just listen, okay? This is important.”

  Jay’s eyes flick between us, but he doesn’t say anything, so I stay quiet, too.

  “The truth is, I’m Walker,” Lai says. Finally, she meets our eyes. “Luke entrusted the Order to me when he … passed. When the others and I decided to make the Order a more serious organization, I took on the identity of Walker to protect those around me. It’s why I didn’t tell you before now—especially with the war going on.” She sighs. “But tomorrow I’ll be leading the ambush against the rebels as Walker. So I wanted you to know.”

  I can tell by the way her eyes narrow as she watches us that she’s trying to gauge our reactions. But I don’t know what to feel. Lai being Walker? No wonder she’s always so tired. It explains a lot, actually. If she’d said this a few months ago, I probably would’ve been mad. But she made it pretty clear after our fight that she has her secrets and she’d be keeping them. That that’s who she is. It’s not like I can really be angry with her when she warned us. And surprisingly, I actually don’t feel angry. Okay, maybe a little irritated.

  “I mean, I figured there was stuff you were still hiding from us,” I say. “You said as much before. But whatever, you’re telling us now, right? It’s fine. Let’s just focus on beating up some rebels tomorrow.”

  Jay smiles slightly. He’s hard to read, but he’s always patient, so I doubt he’s taking the secrecy personally. I’m almost surprised he didn’t already know, what with how much Lai tells him. “I’m glad you confided in us with this, Lai,” he says. “Thank you.”

  “Yeah, well,” Lai says. “I figured now was the time.”

  “Surprised you thought there was a time,” I say. She elbows me in the ribs, and I grin at her as I shove back.

  After that, as we head off to a strategy meeting together, we talk about what we’ll eat for lunch when we make it back tomorrow—Lai and I arguing over every food the other suggests while Jay tries to mediate. For that one moment, I can almost pretend everything is normal. That my best friend isn’t leading us into battle tomorrow, that I’m not going to lose anyone I care about, that I won’t eventually have to make a decision about my brother and revenge.

  20

  LAI

  “THE DEFENSE TEAM is ready,” Trist says. He sits between Fiona and Amal, the other captains and Helpers spread out around the table as we go over everything one last time before the assault tomorrow morning. “If the rebels have found us somehow and are using this as a distraction to attack Regail Hall, we will not give them an easy time.” He glances to Syon, sitting on the other side of Fiona—our trump card. None of us want him to have to fight, but if it comes down to it, he’s the strongest Nyte in the Order. No one can win against him—unless they have a neutralization crystal. Which is highly possible. But not worth dwelling on.

  In the accented tone I use only when I’m acting as Walker, I say, “Attack team, report?”

  “Everyone’s as prepared as they can be,” Fiona says. She and I will be leading them into battle. Our biggest group yet. If the rebels are coming out in full force, we can’t do anything less if we want to win. “The funds recently given to us by Akito Kitahara have helped tremendously in acquiring more weapons and armor. Everyone is sufficiently equipped.”

  “His contribution has truly been a gift,” I murmur. I try not to think of Jay’s dad. Jay himself has seemed surprisingly okay since he joined the Order, and it’s true his dad’s donations have helped us significantly. But I still don’t think I could have a civil conversation with the man who treated Jay so poorly for all those years. “Scouting team?”

  “Equipment’s all set up and ready to go,” Rowan says. They glance at Navarro, the captain in charge of scouting, who says, “My team is prepared to head out as soon as you give the word.”

  As soon as I give the word. It’s a struggle to stop myself from looking down. I have the utmost confidence in the Order. We’ve been winning—we’ll win this time, too. But Erik has a bad feeling about Ellis’s plan, and for some reason, so do I. Yet we can’t just let them attack Sector Eight directly. Plus, Ellis herself is going to be there, along with all the rebel leaders. This is too good a chance to pass up. If everything goes right, we could claim total victory tomorrow. We could end this war. But this won’t be an easy battle by any means. Once I give the word, a lot of our friends are going to die, no matter the outcome of the fight.

  “We move out early tomorrow,” I finally say. “Tell everyone to rest well and steel themselves. This isn’t going to be a fight like any we’ve had before. We can do this—we have to. We can’t let the rebels reach the sector. It won’t be easy, but if we do this right, it could cripple the rebels and potentially put an end to the war. Remind everyone what we’re fighting for.”

  As everyone claps or nods or both, I try not to think of who here won’t make it back after tomorrow’s fight. Anxiety compresses my chest so badly I can barely breathe.

  * * *

  The packed, winding streets of Sector Eight are almost beautiful in their busyness. They glitter and reflect back against the dome overhead, creating two parallel labyrinth cities with no escape, no room to breathe, nothing outside of this single reality.

  I watch the sector from the top of Regail Hall, my legs dangling over the side of the roof as I let my eyes lose focus until all the specks of light become blurs of color melding together, nonsensical, unimportant.

  I don’t turn around when I hear footsteps.

  Fiona comes to stand beside me without a word. She reaches down to hand me a steaming mug of tea. Once I take it, she sits next to me with her own mug.

  We don’t say anything for a long time. Ever since the war started, right before a strike, this has been our routine. Roof. Tea. Silent company.

  But Fiona breaks the routine when she says, “We’ll be okay.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I know us. Even if any of us were to die, the Order would continue on. That’s who we are.”

  “Reassuring.”

  She shrugs and sips her tea. “You find reassurance where you can these days. I find mine in knowing we’re not risking everything on this. Half our leadership is staying behind. Our backers are all noncombatants, of course, which means the Order will still have the monetary and practical means to continue, no matter how many or which members we lose in this fight. And those who remain will push forward because they believe in our cause and won’t want to see our group’s sacrifices be in vain. That’s the kind of organization we made.”

  I don’t say anything for a while. “You know, you’ve gotten a lot better at pep talks recently. Or at least practical talks.”

  “I’ve always been good at practical talks.”

  I smile slightly and finally take a sip of my tea. “No one’s necessary, huh. I kind of like that. It’s a lot less pressure when you think about it that way.”

  I feel Fiona looking at me, but when I look back, her gaze is on the streets below us. “I wouldn’t say no one is necessary.”

  “Isn’t that exactly what you just said?”

  She tips her head back and looks at the dome overhead or maybe the sky beyond it. “I can think of two exceptions.”

  I almost ask who they are but don’t. I’d rather not know. “Well, let’s hope those two are still alive by the end of tomorrow.”

  Fiona smiles quietly to herself and closes her eyes. “They will be.”

  I wish I could share her confidence. I look up, too, and try to see the stars past all the glitzy reflections of the sector. Will I be able to look for them tomorrow night, too? Even if I can, how much will b
e different? Who won’t be by my side anymore? Because no matter how much I know that what we’re doing is right and that we can win, I can’t shake the feeling that this victory will come at too high a cost.

  * * *

  It takes long hours of careful, camouflaged trekking through the Outside before we reach the destination the rebels are supposed to pass through on their way to the sector. The scouts reported there was nothing suspicious so far. They found a handful of rebels in the area, presumably scouts.

  With Fiona and Peter by my side, and the knowledge that Jay and Al are close by somewhere, I start to feel better about things. Everything is going like it’s supposed to. We can do this.

  We reach the dusty area littered with towering boulders and low-rise cliffs we need to launch a successful ambush against the rebels. I wave my hand and everyone disperses to their positions. Fiona and Peter each take their assigned squads, and I push down the urge to call them back where I can see them. It will be okay. Everything is fine.

  We’re barely in position when I get Erik’s warning. Lai, you need to run—it’s a trap, Ellis gave us false info to lure you out and now she’s—

  But then rebels burst out from the boulders surrounding us and I don’t hear the rest.

  21

  AL

  THERE’RE SO MANY damned rebels I can barely see the other Order members. Jay and I stand back-to-back against waves of them. I can see friends trying to fight their way toward us—maybe toward anything—but they’re cut down one after another. Frustration and fury build in my throat as I swing my halberd at the rebel standing in my way. She falls. Someone else takes her place.

  The Order separated to launch attacks on the incoming rebels from all angles. Now it’s obvious they were expecting that.

  “How’d they know we were coming and what we’d do?” I ask through gritted teeth.

  “I don’t know,” Jay says.

  I thrust my palm out, and flames envelop the rebels in front of me. Their screams ring in my ears, but not as loudly as my friends’. The people I’ve been training for the last three months. The good people I’ve gotten to know.

  I swing my halberd out of fury and grief. My back leaves Jay’s as I plunge forward into the crowd of enemies, and I hear him yell, “Al, come back!” but I don’t want to. I don’t want to hold back.

  Flames explode out from me in every direction. The Order team in charge of this area is gone. I don’t know if they were able to regroup with another squad or if everyone was taken down, but the thought that they might all be dead just adds fuel to my fire.

  The rebels around me scramble back, and I let my flames die down. I want to kill them with my own hands.

  I charge forward, halberd ready, but one of the rebels blocks my thunderous swing with his spear. I feel the shock reverberate through our weapons and push harder. At the same time, I bring my knee up in between our weapons and nail him in the stomach. He gasps and loosens his grip. My halberd finishes him off.

  Two people run up behind me and swing, but I duck under their weapons. When I straighten, I bring my halberd down against one girl’s axe. The other whirls around behind me and pulls back her spear for a hit. I sidestep and the spear nearly takes out the other rebel, but she jumps out of the way with a shouted “Hey, careful!” at her friend.

  “Sorry!” the other girl says as they regroup, weapons raised.

  I tighten my grip on my halberd. I charge.

  They raise their weapons in defense, but this time when I swing, flames wrap around my weapon. One of the girls shrieks as the flames crawl up her arms. The other tries to run, but my fire catches her before she can make it.

  White-hot pain splits my back. I stagger forward and whip around to face the newcomer who struck me, but as I do, two other rebels close in on my sides. They want to go? Let’s go.

  I release my flames again, murderous with rage, but the rebels don’t back down. When my fire reaches them, it doesn’t touch them at all. They must have neutralization power crystals.

  Fine. We’ll do this the old-fashioned way. I heft my halberd up. My back cries out against the movement. The attack from earlier caused some damage, but I’ve been through worse and made it out before. This time won’t be any different.

  The rebel on my left attacks first. He charges forward and swings his sword, but I easily block him with the shaft of my halberd. The other two race in to try to take advantage of my distraction, but I shove off from the rebel’s sword to duck under the other two’s weapons. One of them brings her bladed brass knuckles down and they graze my arm as I jerk back out of reach. The third rebel comes up behind me and I whip my halberd around. He blocks with his sword, and the other two rush at me from behind. Shit.

  The air shifts beside me. Someone grabs my shoulder and then my stomach twists into a knot as all the air is sucked out from inside and around me. My vision blurs to black.

  Then, just as fast as it happened, it stops, and the grip on my shoulder releases and I collapse to my knees, wheezing for air. What the fuck? Did I just die? Is that what death feels like?

  But when my vision stops swimming, the pain in my back still registers. I look up and see the battle I’d just been in still raging on below. A sheer cliff face plunges down in front of me, not tall, but not short enough to easily scale.

  I can’t take my eyes from the scene. The rebels, all in their black uniforms, are obviously winning. The Order is scattered, small teams standing together in the face of overwhelming numbers. This is how bad it is? This is what we’re fighting against? How did it get to this so quickly?

  “Are you okay?” someone asks from behind me.

  But it’s not just someone. I know that voice. I whip around despite the pain in my back and raise my halberd.

  My brother stands in front of me. He lifts his hands in peace, dark brown eyes heavy and sad as he watches me.

  “You,” I snarl. I swing my halberd around and catch him in the chest with the pole end of it. I hear the rush of air as he loses his breath. Then I’ve got on him his back, kneeling into his stomach to keep him from getting up, one of the blades of my halberd against his throat.

  It takes every ounce of my willpower to not immediately kill him. The only thing that holds me back is my need for answers. “What did you do? What’s happening?”

  “Good to see you again, too,” he croaks around his lost breath. He flicks one of his wrists out to indicate a bracelet. When I look closer, I see that it’s not just any bracelet—it’s strung with multi-colored power crystals. “One of our members,” he says slowly, “has a gift of teleportation. It’s very useful. We traded crystals.”

  “You—you saved me?” I can’t believe it. “How did you even—?”

  “Your flames are easy to recognize,” he says with a small smile. I can’t believe he’s smiling right now. I want to punch it off his damn face. “You lose your temper as quickly as always. I’ve been watching the fight from here, but when I saw your fire, I was worried, so…” He looks away.

  Every muscle in my body is telling me to bring down my weapon. Attack. Kill. Now, finally.

  But I don’t. All I can think about is Irina saying there’s no point in revenge. Even if I kill him right now, nothing will change. He’s an enemy—a rebel—and I need to kill him anyway. But there are things I want to know before that. “Why?”

  He tilts his head. “Why?”

  I don’t even know where to start. Years of pent-up rage and grief and betrayal I hadn’t even known I’d still been holding onto pour out as I shout at him. “Why did you kill our parents? Why didn’t you explain yourself that night—why did you run?” I bite back tears of fury. “Why did you save me just now?”

  He doesn’t say anything for a long time, and I almost swing my halberd at his head. The longer he takes, the more my friends are suffering down there in that lost battle.

  “I didn’t kill them,” he finally says, quietly.

  “What do you mean, you didn’t kill them?�
�� I ask. “Their blood was on your hands! You ran.”

  “A Nyte killed them—someone in Sector Eight’s military.” He looks straight at me. “I don’t know what he was after. I didn’t know what to do. He escaped, and by the time you came home and saw everything, I’d already decided. I’d go after him, find out why he did it, and then kill him.” His eyes are unwavering. It makes my stomach lurch. “But I panicked when I saw you. I ran away without saying anything, but by the time I realized how that looked and went back, you were already gone.” He smiles wryly. “In some ways, I thought it might be for the best. I didn’t want to get you involved in all this. I never imagined you’d join the military and come looking for me.”

  “Yeah, that’s all a likely story,” I say, but my stomach is plummeting. Because as stupid as it is, I actually believe him. Stupid, stupid, stupidly looking into the same eyes of the older brother who always comforted me and told me he’d never let anything hurt me and believing this dumb crap.

  But I know him—or at least, I know who he used to be. I could never imagine why the kind, gentle brother I’d always known had suddenly turned into a murderer. And I know his tics. Whenever he lied, his hands would fidget and he could never look someone in the eyes.

  He’s not doing any of that now.

  My heartbeat is so loud he has to be able to hear it. Could he actually be telling the truth? Or has he just gotten better at lying since then, gotten rid of his tics? I can’t believe myself right now. Why is this even a debate?

  He looks at me and doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t try to defend himself or explain. He said what he wanted, and that’s it. Just like how he’s always been.

  “You never even told me you were a Nyte,” I whisper.

  “I didn’t know. Not until after everything happened. You know I’ve never been physically strong like Nytes, and my gift isn’t an obvious one. That Nyte—somehow he knew you and I were gifted. He knew about me even though I didn’t.” His jaw clenches. “I found out later what my gift was.”