Broken

by Marianne Curley

  I have no answer for that. He indicates the crowds with his hands. ‘Does this look like a game to you?’

  ‘When you say, everyone feels this way, surely you’re exaggerating, yes?’

  He laughs. ‘They are now aware that you have multiple wings and also the power to annihilate our arch-enemy. Believe me; they will storm the Arena if the result of this hearing goes against you.’

  ‘So how do you think the members will vote?’

  ‘I wish I knew, cousin. Some members openly declare that under the circumstances you acted within the law, while some –’ he shrugs – ‘fear the consequences of your actions.’

  ‘What are they afraid of?’

  ‘War. And the losses we will incur.’

  ‘But war is inevitable. It’s written in stardust . . . or is this too written in blood on stone?’

  ‘No mention of war is ever written in anything but blood. And no one wants war to occur in their time.’

  I give him a questioning look. ‘If you were human, I could understand that viewpoint, but you don’t live on Earth, you’re not guided by mortal restrictions.’

  ‘Everyone knows war is promised, but it’s like the humans with their end-of-the-world fears. They understand it’s going to happen one day, but no one wants to see it in their lifetime. Do you?’

  ‘We don’t have a choice.’

  ‘True, but if you did?’

  ‘Whenever there is an ending, there is always a new and better beginning.’

  He nods and glances at me. ‘Wise words, cousin.’

  We walk in silence until the Courthouse steps. ‘You’re right, though, there are some who . . .’

  Usually so sure of himself, Michael’s hesitation is like a chill wind on my spine, the kind that forms in the High Alps of the Drifting Fjords and brings with it the first season’s snow. ‘What is it, Michael?’

  ‘There are some who say you are not the One.’

  I laugh dryly. ‘You know I wish that were true. Perhaps those that say I’m not the One know something the others don’t.’

  Out of nowhere, he clasps an arm across my shoulder and draws me to him. ‘Responsibility can be a heavy burden, Nathaneal, but you are not alone because I walk beside you wherever your duties take you, even if it’s to the depths of Skade’s darkest reaches. This is a vow, my fellow prince, my cousin and future king, a vow I intend to make public to you and to your endearing princess on your wedding day. Or maybe her crowning. Or your crowning. Whichever comes first,’ he finishes with a smile.

  I take a moment to digest this. ‘Thank you, Michael.’ Throwing my arm round him, we embrace with the warmth of cousins who trust each other implicitly.

  And the crowd goes wild.

  Their support is both humbling and mystifying. I raise my hands to both thank and quieten them, but the action only fires them up more. Their cheering grows to such an extent that several court officials appear on an upstairs balcony.

  ‘It seems you have a welcoming party,’ Michael says.

  ‘“Welcoming” might not be the word I would use.’

  ‘Thane, you have nothing to fear.’ As an afterthought he adds, ‘Remember, half the voting members are female.’

  ‘That’s not funny. I will still need the other half.’

  His grin grows wider while the crowds continue to cheer. But when I step on to the first of twelve steps, the crowd’s energy changes to a volatile mix of uncertainty, mistrust and fear.

  Michael puts a staying hand on my forearm. I glance back to see a crowd of thousands bursting through security lines. Michael orders the nearest Thrones to eject their wings and form a circle round us while he shoots out his own wings and curves them round the two of us in a protective inner circle.

  What’s going on, Michael?

  He’s too busy to answer, but I see the truth for myself. It surprises me. Even shocks me.

  Tell me, Michael, I ask, has the commander of all Avena’s armies taken a hiatus from his duties to serve as my personal bodyguard? Why? Who commanded this? For your sake, I hope the pay is worth it.

  He swings round so that he’s standing directly in front of me, his hands bearing down on my shoulders to stop me from moving. His eyes burn like the leaves of a liquid amber tree on fire. Around us is chaos but he doesn’t seem to care. ‘Listen to me, Nathaneal, being your friend, your minder, your defender, is not a chore, never has been, and no payment is involved. You are the One who will defeat Prince Luca, self-appointed King of Darkness, whether you choose to admit it, or not. Being commander of Avena’s armies for the past three thousand years has been my training. Protecting you is my destiny.’

  12

  Ebony

  Jordan stays in his room all night. I haven’t seen him like this before. Sure, he’s down some days, but this feels different. Before I go to bed, I fix him a sandwich with a cup of green tea and take the tray to his room.

  He doesn’t answer my knock. I try again and after a moment I hear his footsteps, slow and heavy, approach the door. His hair is wet and he’s wearing only a pair of black boxers. Bare-chested, I can’t help but notice how built he is. His frame has broadened, his shoulders widened, and his upper body is now muscular and strong. I try not to stare, but the improvements are remarkable. He watches me checking him out and the air thickens with a sultry kind of heat.

  ‘I thought you might be hungry.’ I lift the tray in my hands.

  He turns away and pulls on a T-shirt.

  He’s sad and angry and drowning in self-pity. I place the tray down on his desk with the intention of leaving when I notice an open bottle of vodka, partially consumed. I find myself burning with a need to make Jordan better, to lift him from this downhill spiral.

  He runs his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it, but only musses it up more. Our eyes connect. His are dark, streaked red, and filled with reckless menace. His heartbeat accelerates, and for the first time since we met he looks dangerous. Something resembling fear settles in the pit of my stomach. It stops me from instinctively taking his hand and telling him everything is going to be OK.

  A better idea would be to leave.

  Used to relying on my instincts, and recalling Nathaneal’s advice to trust my heart, I head to the door.

  He reaches it before me, and with a raspy voice, somewhat slurred from the vodka, he whispers, ‘Stay for a bit?’

  ‘I, ah . . . don’t think that’s a good idea.’

  ‘No strings.’ He lifts both hands into the air. ‘No expectations. I could just do with some company.’

  Against my better judgement, but knowing I can’t walk away when he’s pleading like this, I nod. ‘OK, but only for a few minutes.’

  He falls against me like a frightened child. I stroke the back of his head, smoothing down his damp hair. ‘It’s all right, Jordy. Everything will work out in the long run.’

  He scoffs.

  ‘Your friends didn’t purposely set out to hurt you.’

  ‘It’s not . . .’ He squeezes his eyes shut, takes a moment to gather his thoughts, then nods. ‘I know. Sophie just got me by surprise. It was the last thing I expected. I actually thought she was gonna ask me out, like a date, you know?’

  ‘What would you have said if she had?’

  He looks straight at me. ‘No, of course.’

  My heart sinks.

  We sit on the end of his bed side by side, my hands clasped in my lap, wondering what to say next. I have to be so careful around him, especially now when his senses are slurred by alcohol.

  ‘Stop drowning in worry,’ he says. ‘I’ll be all right. I’m just pissed off.’

  ‘Danny should have had the guts to tell you himself. I didn’t think he was a chicken.’

  ‘He’s not usually; he’s just caught up in the spell.’

  ‘What spell?’

  Vodka stamps his face with a silly grin. ‘Love.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘It makes people do strange things.’

&
nbsp; He winds a long curl of my hair round his finger. I shift my head back and he stops. ‘Jordan, I want to comfort you, but I don’t know how without making things worse.’

  ‘Don’t say that. Just being near me is comfort enough.’

  ‘Listen, me being near you is counter-productive to your state of mind. Unless we can get past this problem, I’ll have to keep my distance. I might even have to move back to Amber’s place.’

  ‘No! I couldn’t stand that. Isn’t it enough you’ll be leaving for good one day? Besides, this is where you’re safe and that tops everything.’

  His whole body shudders suddenly. ‘Jordan, are you all right?’ I look into his eyes and search for the answer but find something else altogether. Something I’m not expecting to ‘see’. I begin pulling away immediately. ‘I . . . ah, I should go.’

  But my hair catches on his finger and I find myself staring into his eyes again. I glimpse deeper inside his soul, or mind, or whatever this is I’m looking at. I don’t usually see such vivid images and it throws me at first, makes me want to look deeper. His heart is a hollow well with a boundless capacity for love, a love he needs returned to feel whole. But at this precise moment he has love confused with desire. I see him push me down on the bed and climb on top of me. It’s such a strange feeling as I watch myself reaching my hands up into his hair, pulling his head down so his lips press into mine and . . .

  I blink, only to find his face right up close to mine, his dark blue eyes intense with his need to kiss me. I feel the touch of his lips on mine and I gasp. He misreads it for a moan and presses his mouth to mine. I freeze. If I pull back now, I’m afraid it will break him. But to give him hope will be wrong. Dead wrong.

  Damn this Guardian bond!

  It’s screwing with his brain!

  It’s screwing with mine!

  With his lips moving over my frozen mouth, oblivious to everything except his surging desire, I bring my hand up between us and apply enough pressure to separate our faces. ‘I should go,’ I tell him softly, wishing I could wipe from my memory the images I saw in his eyes, images that still linger in his thoughts.

  ‘Shit. You’re seeing inside my head?’

  I nod.

  ‘Oh, man. You should go. Yep, you should run.’

  I tug my hair out of his hold and bolt for the door.

  13

  Jordan

  I’m prepared to grovel, if that’s what it takes for Ebony to talk to me again after last night. What have I gotta lose? My dignity? Pride? Self-esteem? I can’t lose what I don’t have. The deal Prince Luca manipulated me into making takes care of that.

  No angel will save my soul when I die. They’ll let the Death Watchers take me.

  When Thane learns about the lies I’m going to be telling his fiancée, he’ll probably hand me to a DW on a silver platter, glad to let me spend eternity in a place where souls are slaves, work hard physical labour, live in extreme temperatures and are regularly tortured.

  Man, I have so much to look forward to!

  I’ve seen Skade through my dreams, and I know what I’m seeing is real because Skinner is now in them. He starts back at school today, and I still haven’t come up with anything to tell Danny and the others. I gotta check my schedule when I get up, but I have a sinking feeling I have another free period today, so I’ll be meeting Skinner again to update him on my progress with breaking Ebony up from Thane.

  I used to love my free periods. Now they’re just another facet of my life that sucks.

  After Ebony left my room last night, I wanted to sleep and forget the day I had. But when I closed my eyes I slipped straight into a dream where Skinner was waiting to take me on a guided tour.

  He showed me the capital, a city of high-rise buildings with a river running through it, where the enslaved souls work for dark angels. Whatever skills the soul had when it was living stay with them when they die. If a dark angel could use your skills, you could be lucky enough to live with his or her family. But if you don’t have any you get sent to one of many factories – the one kind of place you don’t wanna end up.

  The air in the capital stinks with the horrible stench of decaying flesh from any number of dying animals. Wild beasts, in particular, will jump off cliffs in their constant hunt for fresh food. On a calm day, the pungent odour of toxic smog settles over the city courtesy of endlessly erupting volcanoes that plague the wider landscape. Two deeply coloured moons illuminate the night with purple light, while in the daytime, if you’re lucky, you might catch a glimpse of a dull red sun.

  Man, I can’t wait to get there. Where do I board the train?

  I get outta bed and take a long hot shower. It helps my mood a bit, so I throw my uniform on and head down to the kitchen. Ebony is already there, standing at the bench wrapping a sandwich.

  ‘I made lunch for you,’ she says, handing me a bulging paper bag without making eye contact.

  ‘Thanks.’ Cautiously, I ask, ‘Does this mean I’m forgiven?’

  She shrugs. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Are you saying you’re OK with what happened last night?’ I lean forward enough to check out her face. ‘You saw things, didn’t you? Things I was imagining us doing together?’

  Two bright spots of colour appear on her cheeks as she looks up and our eyes fleetingly connect. ‘You have quite an imagination,’ she says, wrapping her sandwich for like the tenth time.

  I can’t believe how easy she’s making this for me. No yelling, screaming or even throwing sharp implements at my head. I don’t deserve her leniency. I’m the one planning to have her heart crushed. ‘I’m not thinking those things all the time.’

  ‘Whoa, that’s good to know. Thank you, Jordan, I can go to school now and not think you’re imagining me naked all day.’

  I’m not missing the sarcasm; I’m ignoring it because I don’t wanna fight and lose her friendship. And, well, when she dumps Thane, she’s gonna need a friend. ‘Does this mean you can read my thoughts now like Thane does?’

  She waves her hand in the air dismissively and pops her lunch in her backpack. ‘I wasn’t reading your thoughts last night. I saw images, and I think that was because we were sitting so close together when we were . . .’

  ‘Kissing.’

  She flicks a glance at the opening to the dining room as if checking for the quickest exit. ‘I was going to say “touching”, but . . . look, about that . . . kiss.’

  ‘I know. I get it. The Guardian thing.’

  ‘It did things to your head last night, and since your mind was already pliant from the vodka . . .’

  She leaves the rest hanging, but turns to me with a determined look on her face. ‘I’d like to forget what happened last night.’

  ‘Sure.’ At least she’s still talking to me. I lift her backpack from the bench, but she takes it from me. ‘Ebony, can I ask you something?’

  She tilts her head to the side. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Do you really believe you’re my Guardian Angel?’

  Her forehead creases as she pierces me with a hard stare. ‘Where is this going?’

  I woke this morning knowing only that the darker my thoughts get, the more vital my need to keep Ebony in my life, and there are two things standing in my way – Thane, who’s going to have her for the whole of eternity, so why shouldn’t I have her for a few years first? And the other is Prince Luca, who wants her too, and who blackmailed me into helping him.

  My mother is the innocent one in the middle of all this. She’s the one who’s suffering right now, imprisoned in Prince Luca’s palace. He gave me the chance to free her. If I break the lovebirds up my mother can be where she belongs – back on Earth, living out the rest of her life as she should.

  But my love for Ebony won’t let me just hand her over. So how do I break the lovebirds up – and consequently free my mum – while keeping Ebony safe from Prince Luca?

  Only one solution comes to mind.

  Get Ebony to fall in love with me.

  �
��Is there something you should be telling me, Jordan?’

  I reach for the car keys hanging on the wall. ‘You know, Ebony, Thane has an amazing physical presence – when he’s here, but without him as a constant reminder that this other dimension exists, all the supernatural stuff seems surreal. Even a tad unreal.’

  She follows me down the hall to the garage. ‘I don’t know what you mean. Angels exist. That’s a fact.’

  I try a different approach. ‘He promised he’d be back, didn’t he?’

  ‘Yeah, so?’

  ‘I’m sure he doesn’t want your memories fading to the point that his world feels like a dream.’

  ‘Nathaneal will never feel like a dream to me.’

  She would say that.

  We get into the Lambo and when I reverse out Ebony gazes into her lap. ‘I’m sorry, Jordan, I don’t mean to mention his name every five minutes.’

  ‘It’s every four, but who’s counting.’

  We glance at each other and grin.

  ‘Thane’s absence will pass before you know it.’ I really wish Thane would stay away longer. I could do with three weeks to win Ebony over. ‘What about those wings of yours? Any signs they’re emerging yet, ’cause that would be proof, right?’

  ‘Wings would definitely be proof, but there’s no new sign . . . yet.’ She shakes her head and frowns. ‘And since no one except Amber saw those first growths I can’t confirm what they were. I have no evidence to take to a lab for testing.’

  I throw my head back and laugh, imagining a feather in a sterile container. ‘I’m not sure a lab would be helpful. But, hey, you must have freaked out when you saw them.’

  ‘They were just bumps of tough skin. I thought I had a disease.’

  ‘Your wings have to appear before you turn eighteen, don’t they?’

  ‘Yeah, or apparently I’ll never be able to fly.’

  ‘Living on Avena and being the only one permanently grounded, man, that would suck big time. Can you even make the trip through the Crossing without wings?’

  ‘They have to put you inside a kind of bag made from impenetrable fabric they call a lamorak and carry you, at least until they find solid ground.’ She sighs and opens her window, letting the wind blow her hair back. ‘Anyway, I have heaps more training to do before I can go there.’