by Nina Walker
I smirked at the childish thought as we trudged on.
We stopped behind a tall oak tree, its shadows long and all-encompassing. Carefully, we cased the area one last time. There wasn’t a soul in sight. Just the farmhouse up ahead, empty fields surrounding us, and the moonless sky. Stars watched over the scene. A small critter ran across the lawn.
“I should go,” I whispered, already holding up my hand in protest. “Don’t argue. She knows me. She might spook if someone else does it.”
Before they could reply, I took off. My feet landed softly on the grass, and I imagined I was moving like a cat. Silent. Swift. Predatory.
Dad had claimed that the farmer knew she was here. But the farmer’s wife? Not so much. So, we needed to be extra careful as not to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves. Nobody knew if she could ruin this for us or not. With the bounty on Jessa’s head, I figured it was more than likely.
Approaching the cellar door, I crouched down and another tingle of nerves swept through me. I knelt at the base of a long sheet of metal, fastened down over a large box like a protrusion coming off the side of the house. I knocked softly three times and then unlatched it. It swung open with a loud creak that pierced the silence like a knife. I cringed.
“Jessa, are you in there?” I whispered down into the dark space. It vaguely reminded me of my time spent in Richard’s prison. Pushing the thought away, the feeling still lingered.
There was a moment of silence followed by a soft, “I’m here.”
“It’s me. We gotta move.”
“Frankie?”
“Or Sasha, whatever. No time to debate the pros and cons of that whole name situation right now.” I rolled my eyes at my own obnoxious rambling.
She crawled out of the space, her eyes round orbs in the darkness. Her hair was knotted around her shoulders, her clothes threadbare and hanging off her thin frame. She wrapped her arms around her torso and shivered.
“Where’s your coat?”
“Lost it.”
“How?” I asked before quickly adding, “Never mind.” I pulled her into a quick hug, murmuring softly into her hair. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”
“It’s not me I’ve been worried about. But thanks.”
Her body, taller than mine, still felt smaller against me somehow.
“Lucas will be fine,” I replied, guessing that it was her comatose husband on her mind. “He’s tough. Anyway, he wanted you out of New Colony, right? So let’s go.”
She nodded and I grabbed her hand, tugging her along. We ran to the oak tree and met up with the boys.
“Who are they?” Her wide eyes tracked up and down the two men. Men who she knew nothing of, but who had become my anchors.
“They’re trustworthy,” I said, tucking her arm into mine. “They’re okay. I promise. But we have to go.”
She nodded and the four of us turned to peer out from the shadows. Mastin took point, casing the area one last time and nodding his go-ahead. Just as the four of us were about to sprint back to the chopper, the door to the farmhouse flung opened. A man stumbled out into the darkness, his hands waving.
“Wait!” His deep voice rolled over the cold landscape and I jumped, ready to take action.
“Don’t,” Mastin said, placing his hand on my arm.
“It’s okay,” Jessa replied. “We can trust Taysom.”
I don’t know about that!
“Taysom! Over here!” she called out loudly and the rest of us cussed under our breaths. Was she for real right now? With all our training, we couldn’t help her if she was going to pull stupid stunts like this!
“Shh–” I hissed out at my sister. But then, super intelligent girl that she was, she took off running toward the man. I began to take off after her, but Tristan yanked me back and slammed me against his hard chest.
“Just wait,” he growled. “See what he does.”
In the darkness, I could barely make out the farmer’s expression. Jessa was the tallest in our family, but this man towered over her. He said something to her, his gravelly voice coming out with a twinge of regret, and she fell to the earth. A sob escaped her, echoing through the landscape.
“Get off me!” I shoved Tristan back and ran to my sister, my footsteps slamming against the ground. One hand on my gun, I ripped it from the holster and pointed it at the hulking man. His eyes flashed when he saw me, and he raised his hands slowly.
“Hey now,” he said, nodding toward the gun. His eyes two bright white spots in the darkness. “No need for that. I just thought she should hear it from me first.”
“Hear what?” I spat.
Mastin and Tristan ran up behind me, their guns also pointing at the man. I caught the rage in Mastin’s eyes, the frustration in Tristan’s, and looked away. They had no excuse. I’d come after her. They’d come after me. Same story.
“Lucas is dead!” Jessa cried out, her voice so hollow and pained, it sent an ache through my core. Lucas and I didn’t always see eye to eye, but he had proved himself to be a good man. His death didn’t please me, but I also didn’t have time to dwell on it. None of us did. If Richard’s people really were closing in, we should have already left the area by now.
“I’m so sorry.” I dropped my gun to my side and squatted next to my sister’s sobbing body. “But we have to get out of here. It’s not safe. We can talk about it more on the way back to base.”
She didn’t respond. She continued to cry, as if she hadn’t heard a word I said. Either that, or she just didn’t care.
“Seriously, Jessa.” I grabbed her arm and tried to pry her off the cold grass. “We really have to go. We can’t get caught out here or we’re all dead.”
Tristan strode forward to help, his long arm reaching to tug her up.
“Don’t touch me!” Jessa bellowed. She turned on us, her face streaked with tears, her eyes wild. She scrambled back on the grass, pushing away. “I have to go back! I have a connection to him. If I can reach out with the purple I can see if he’s still alive.”
“But he’s dead, sweetie.” The farmer looked down on her with pity. For such a large man, his tone was gentle. “There was just a national broadcast about it.”
“I don’t believe it. Did you see a body? How do you know?” she pressed.
The farmer’s dark face was hard to decipher in the night, but even I saw the flash of doubt. “Well, no body. Not yet.”
“See! He might not be dead!” Her body snapped to attention and she jumped up. “I’m going back.”
“You can’t!” I gasped, but she didn’t care.
She spun around and took off running, kicking dirt into the air behind her. Her yellow magic must have been coursing through her veins because her speed was unnatural as she tore through the night. I swore under my breath.
“Don’t you even think about it!” Mastin said, turning on me.
My eyes flicked once to him, and once to Tristan, before settling on the path ahead.
“I have to,” I said simply.
The tug of yellow magic ignited in my veins, the necklace warm against my skin. I bolted forward, legs burning with insane speed as I sprinted out of the yard and into the field, pushing onward.
She wasn’t going to endure this alone. I had a family again. For most of my life, I’d let the pain of abandonment push any thoughts of my family away. But really, they’d missed me just as much as I’d missed them. I knew that now. The same blood coursed through us, tying us together, and it always would.
Jessa’s head bobbed up in the darkness, a beacon for me to follow. My lungs burned and my breath was labored, but my mind cleared as I gained ground. This was the right thing to do. Helping her, being there for her in her weakest moment, it was what family did for their own. I was ready to embrace what it meant to be a Loxely, what it meant to be a big sister.
Saving Jessa from her grief was the perfect opportunity to start.
END OF BOOK THREE
Copyright © 2018 by Nina Walker
/> All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For the dreamers and the doers, may you be both!
1
Sasha
“You need to give this up before you get us all killed,” Mastin huffed, his voice a low timbre that rolled over the dark landscape.
Traitor.
I spun on my heels and shoved him. Hard. He didn’t budge. The man barely even blinked. Me and my “nice side” shouldn’t have been on such good terms at that moment. He was lucky I was currently choosing to refrain from using my magic on him. One touch of yellow was all I needed to knock him out—we both knew it. Our eyes met, his narrowed into slits, and I glared.
“Nobody said you had to tag along,” I snapped, stepping back. Tristan moved in between us, head cocked and arms folded, his stance diplomatic, ready to mediate.
“Keep your voice down,” Mastin hissed. “Or have you already forgotten where you’ve so wittingly led us?” He motioned to the barren field that spread wide around the three of us. We were in the middle of no man’s land, shrouded in darkness.
I forced the annoyance down, trying to replace it with humility. This was New Colony, and I knew better than to test my luck here.
“You’re right,” I said, the two words nearly killing me. Still, my eyes rolled. They couldn’t be controlled.
Fingers pressing the blue stone on my necklace, I drew on its power until I was sure we were silenced. We could hear each other, no problem, but my form of blue magic worked as a noise-cancelling force field, preventing our conversation from straying too far. And for someone like me in a place like New Colony? That could mean the difference between life and death.
A shiver ran up my spine, both from the winter night and the weight of our situation. As if sensing my discomfort, Tristan placed a steady hand on my shoulder. The pressure of his touch calmed and grounded me. I breathed in deep, forcing the nerves to retreat.
“Arguing isn’t going to get us anywhere.” Tristan’s voice of reason made me want to scream. He must have sensed it because he gently shifted my body toward him. He held steady hands on my shoulders and leaned down to meet my gaze. “Your sister is gone and obviously doesn’t want to be found. We’re in enemy territory. If we stay here, we’ll end up getting killed.”
“Or worse,” Mastin added.
A flash of my time in the palace prison jolted my memories. My muscles tensed. I could practically feel the pain of the beatings I’d endured. Just breathe. I forced my lungs to fill with air and then slowly relax, clearing the emotions. Tristan was right. Mastin was right. Of course, they were only speaking the truth. And yet, the idea of giving up on Jessa made tears prick at the back my eyes.
I turned away. “Let’s go back and talk to that farmer. Maybe he has an idea of where she could have gone.” When they didn’t answer, I glowered back at them. “Well, are you in or not?”
Mastin shook his head as Tristan nodded.
“We don’t have time,” Mastin ground out, his bright eyes flashing.
“We could hurry,” Tristan added.
A robotic ping sounded. I jerked back, heart accelerating. Mastin pinched his lips and pulled out his slatebook from his back pocket. It was a smaller device than most, but industrial and boxy. Military issue.
I eyed him wearily as he put it to his ear to take the call.
“We’re almost done here.” He paused for a long second, his pursed lips falling into a deep frown as he listened to the hurried voice on the other end, loud enough for me to make out the tone but not the actual words.
“What is it?” I asked.
In the shadows cast by the faint glow of the moon, it was tricky to make out his full expression, but he obviously wasn’t happy. He lowered his head, essentially ignored me, and finished the call with a quick, “Yes.”
“Well?” I questioned again.
“It’s our pilot. He’s not willing to wait much longer. If we’re going to make it back to base, we have to leave now.”
Another reason why they should’ve let me pilot the thing.
“Pull rank. Call him back and tell him to wait!”
“It’s not that easy. I’m not going to ask him to risk his life any more for us. Let’s go.”
I growled but nodded. The three of us sprinted toward the chopper, kicking up clumps of hard earth in our wake. The dusty scent filled my nostrils and my eyes watered. The urge to cough gripped my throat. Inwardly, the battle between guilt and practicality raged. Jessa had been right there. How could I have let her get away? Just as I was about to get her out of this God-forsaken place and reunite her with our family, she had to run off like a total lovesick fool. Now what was I supposed to do, leave her here? Why would she choose this?
Love. That word again. There was no questioning that love was why she’d gone back. It had pushed her to find out for herself if Prince Lucas was actually dead. Even if that meant risking her life, it was worth it to her to find out the truth.
The emptiness spread around us in a kaleidoscope of gray and black. I studied the horizon, searching for a flash of her. In every sway of shadow, I questioned. Was it Jessa? It hadn’t been long since I’d lost her to the darkness, maybe twenty minutes, so there was no way she could have gone too far, even with the magic. But as I scanned the scene, I knew in my gut that she was long gone. She had vanished, and so had my hope of finding her tonight.
Our speed increased as we neared the location where the helicopter had dropped us off. It waited, part of the darkness, our saving grace, our way out. Guilt ripped through me. A hand found mine and he tugged just enough to get my attention. Tristan. I met his eyes, trying to read his torn expression. He nodded once. He understood. Despite the undesirable circumstances, my lips quirked up in a smile.
“Are you sure about this?” he questioned, his voice barely a whisper above the intake of our hurried breaths. Our legs continued to pump us forward as we moved behind Mastin. He was in soldier-mode and paid us little attention, so zeroed in on his target he didn’t catch what I was planning. I didn’t mind. Mastin was good for a lot of things, but not for this. He wouldn’t understand.
“I have to try. Don’t I?” I panted.
“It’s what I did for you.” His full lips spread into a smile so wide, I could see his teeth shining in the dark.
Once again, I nodded, my heart swelling as I remembered how he had crossed the Shadowlands to help me. I squeezed his hand and then dropped it. I switched directions, taking off for the white farmhouse on the edge of the horizon. My boots thudded against the ground, the cold air rushed against my cheeks.
A few seconds later Mastin broke his protocol and shouted, “You have got to be kidding me!” His voice carried over the landscape and I cringed, but also, I had to suppress a laugh.
I felt for the energy of yellow and allowed it to pulse through me, the magic connecting like an internal power source. In a burst of alchemy, my legs swept me forward, and I left the two men far behind.
Mastin could head back to basecamp. That was his right. Tristan, too, though I doubted he’d leave me here. But I just couldn’t give up on Jessa so easily. I’d spent my whole life running from family and I wasn’t going to do that again. If needed, I’d hide out in New Colony, give it a couple of days. Most likely, my sister didn’t have a plan. She was powerful, but not cut out for this kind of thing. If that farmer had a clue as to where Jessa was hiding before stowing her away in his cellar, then I would retrace her steps until I found her.
As I shot up the porch steps, the hum of helicopter blades caught my attention. It flew overhead, disappearing into the inky blackness. I didn’t let myself turn to see if Mastin and Tristan were still on land. But at the back of my mind I wondered. Were they hiding out somewhere, watching, ready to jump in at any mi
nute if things went south?
Of course they were.
And I owed it to them to focus, to make sure this didn’t turn into another disaster. The house was silent and dark. I calmed my breathing, swallowing any panting leftover from the run. I stepped forward, clenched my fist and raised it to the oak door. The moment I was about to knock, a massive figure appeared from around the side of a wraparound porch. I jumped, adrenaline slicing through my chest. A man held up his hands in surrender as he inched closer to me.
“Hold on there,” he said in a deep baritone.
Recognition calmed me; it was the farmer. He towered over me in both height and width. He wasn’t overweight, just carrying a ton of thick muscle on his already large frame. His unruly beard framed his dark face, eyes shining like two small lights in the shadows.
“This is your fault,” I snapped, folding my arms. “She was about to come with us when you had to run out and tell her about Lucas. Why did you do that?”
He sighed and cleared his throat. “Yeah … not my brightest idea. I see that now,” he said. “But I’ve met the prince. He’s a good man. I thought … I don’t know, what I thought. That I was honoring his memory by telling her. That’s his wife, you know? He really cared about her, made me promise to help her if she ever showed up here.”
I squinted, making out the most earnest of expressions on his face. A tiny part of me understood his reasoning, even if it was the definition of stupid. Lucas had shown him kindness, and from the looks of this guy’s barren farm and weathered features, he’d needed it.
“Fine. It’s done. But now I need help finding her. Do you know where she was before she came to you?”
An upstairs light flicked on, the interruption illuminating the yard. The man’s eyes widened, and he shot toward the door, fumbling with the handle.
“Wait. Where are you going?”
“My wife doesn’t know about all this.”
“Just answer my question.”