“No, not yet.” Dysis rubbed a gentle hand along Daakon’s forehead, as Alistar worked on his ankle. “We don’t have a way to reach him except by pressing our emergency transmitters.”
Dismay filled Aris. “You don’t have comms?”
Calix shook his head. “No. Major Vadim thinks Safara has hacked into our comm system. It wasn’t safe to communicate that way.”
Aris struggled not to let her disappointment show. “Do you know what kind of team he’s bringing for the extraction?”
Confusion overtook Calix’s features. “Just a single recon and transport. He wants to get in and out before Safaran forces see us.”
One transport wouldn’t be enough for all of them. The Safaran cargo jet they planned to commandeer could hold twenty-five or more safely, but Atalantan transports only held eight or nine people. Maybe once Milek got here, she could ask him to radio for reinforcements. . . .
No. There wouldn’t be time. Safaran troops would lock onto their position, like they’d done when she crashed. There’d only be minutes to get in and out.
Calix reached for his transmitter.
“Don’t touch that!” Aris said, snapping out of her thoughts and lurching toward him. “You can’t contact Milek yet.”
“But we have to let Major Vadim know we found you,” Calix said. “He’s awaiting our signal to retrieve you.”
“You can’t yet, Calix,” she said, tension feeding every muscle. If Calix hit that beacon, Milek would arrive, guns blazing, and there’d be no way to save the village’s children. Not with only one transport and no warning. As much as she wanted Milek to be here, now, she’d given her word. She wouldn’t abandon her mission. “Please. Just wait until I can tell you everything.”
For a charged second, Calix stared at her, his hand still resting on his beacon. Aris stared back, a little dazed.
“I’m afraid you don’t have time to wait for your reinforcements,” Alistar interjected. He glanced at Calix. “This kind of bite usually kills within minutes. You saved this man’s life, but he’s still in danger. He needs fluids and a blood transfusion. Possibly surgery on his ankle. I won’t know until I get him back to the clinic.” He rocked back on his heels, considering. “We need to move him quickly.”
Gaven was already assembling the litter.
Dysis stood, using Calix’s shoulder to push herself up. “Don’t worry. As soon as Daakon’s stable, we’ll hit our transmitters. Let’s just make sure he’s going to be okay first, alright?”
“Actually,” Aris said, already anticipating a fight, “I have another plan to get us out of here.”
***
Aris told Calix and Dysis about the village’s hidden children, but she waited to tell them the evacuation plan until after Lieutenant Daakon stabilized. They were all sitting at one of the long wooden tables in the main cavern. Dinnertime had come and gone before they made it to the clammy, fire-lit cave, so the room was nearly empty. It had been a trial convincing Dysis to leave Daakon in the capable hands of the village’s menders, but his improving color and the fact that he’d both regained consciousness and could move his toes gave her some reassurance.
Aris hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to Calix about what he was doing here. Truth be told, she was reluctant to ask. She suspected why he’d come—she’d gone on a similar journey herself once—and wasn’t sure what she would say when he told her.
A few of the older children lingered over half-empty bowls of roasted potato and wild turkey, talking quietly and sneaking frequent glances at the newcomers. Aris caught a glimpse of Kori; he sat with his head down, his thin, scarred arms framing his bowl as he concentrated on his food.
“Alright, here’s the plan,” she said, dragging her eyes from the children. “We’re taking these kids with us to Atalanta.”
“What?” The word exploded from Calix’s mouth.
Aris held up a hand. “Alistar has friends in the Military. Tomorrow a group of soldiers, some loyal to us, some not, will arrive with a cargo jet, ostensibly to retrieve a broken piece of my wingjet. We’ll then commandeer the jet and transport the children to Spiro.”
“What about Major Vadim?” Dysis asked. Her voice was hoarse, as if she’d recently been crying. “Why not contact him now? He could help with the retrieval.”
Aris shook her head regretfully. “I want to, believe me. But all he’ll bring is a recon and transport, like you said. There won’t be room for everyone, and no time to comm for a bigger jet. As soon as Milek enters Safaran airspace, Balias’s men will engage.” Only a few hours. She could wait a few more hours to see him. “We don’t want any violence. We can’t risk putting these children in danger.”
Calix stood up from the table. “But you may be putting yourself in danger. We saw them removing the wreckage of your jet. What if they figure out it’s a trap? What if they suspect you’re still alive? A lot of people went to great lengths to protect you from Ward Balias and his men. I went to your burning, Aris.”
Aris swallowed, remembering what Specialist Baryn said about soldiers being given her picture. “I’ll stay out of sight until we have control of the situation.” She leaned forward. “It’s a solid plan, Calix. With you and Dysis here, we’ve an even greater chance of everything going smoothly. There will be six men on the jet; only three of them are loyal to Ward Balias. We’ve only got to overpower three men and we’ll be able to get out of here.”
Calix backed away from the table. “And what would Milek say?”
Her breath caught in her throat. “What do you mean?”
His tanned face twisted for an instant before smoothing into calmer lines. Aris stared at him, guilt and regret wriggling within her like a mess of snakes. He knew about Milek. “He doesn’t know you’re safe, Aris,” Calix continued. “Doesn’t that bother you?”
She could see how hard it was for Calix to say those words, and she tried to be gentle. “Milek would understand. He will understand. I’m a soldier. My job is to rescue those in harm’s way, Calix. My safety is not more important than Kori’s”—she pointed toward the group of boys at the end of the table—“or Samira and her children’s. I will not let you make this about me. This is a mission.”
Calix backed farther away. No one else spoke. It was as if the whole cavern held its breath. His hand moved to the beacon on his chest. “You’re right. It is a mission. And I have my orders.”
Aris stood so fast she knocked her hips against the table. Beside her, Samira and Alistar stood, too.
“Calix,” Aris said, her voice shaking. “I am asking you to accept me and my choices. You don’t have to understand or agree with them, and you can worry. We all worry. But I’d like you on my team for once. This is your choice, right now.” Her face hardened with the strength of her conviction. “If you press that transmitter, you are dead to me. As dead as if I’d been to your burning. So choose.”
For a long time he stared at her, weighing his truth against hers. Aris’s heart pounded in her chest. He’d never trusted her to make her own choices. He’d turned his back on her in Mekia, when he’d found out she was a member of Military. He always followed the rules.
“I don’t see you the way you wish I could, you’re right,” Calix said. With an exhale, his hand dropped to his side. “But I am trying. If this is what you feel is right . . . I won’t fight you.”
Aris should have been relieved, but his response bothered her. “I’m glad you won’t fight me. But don’t you care at all? Is this really just about me? What about saving these kids? Exposing Ward Balias’s crimes to the world? Doesn’t that matter at all?”
Calix shrugged and smiled sadly. “It does matter to me, but not more than you do.”
Aris swallowed back her surprise. It was eerie how closely his words echoed what she’d thought when she’d first joined Military. When Dianthe had told her it wasn’t about Calix but something much bigger, Aris hadn’t seen it that way. But now she did.
“Well, now that you’ve resolved th
at little drama in the most awkward way possible,” Dysis broke in, “I’m going to go check on Lieutenant Daakon. And we need to get ready for tomorrow morning.”
With a glare in Calix’s direction, Samira left to show Dysis the way out of the caves.
Zeb ran up beside Aris and pulled on her wrist. His halo of black hair stood up, electrified. “Come on! You have to see it!”
“See what?” Aris let the small boy pull her toward the tunneled entrance. She glanced back at Calix, who stood by the table. “You coming?”
When they reached open air, the chill raised goosebumps along her arms. The heat of the day had disappeared with the sun. Zeb led her along the rickety rope bridge, nimble and completely unconcerned with the darkness. She held her breath until her feet touched solid ground.
When they reached the open field where the children often played, Zeb pointed toward the horizon. A large swirling glow arced into the night sky.
“What is it?” Aris asked, not sure whether to feel awe or terror. She’d seen the strange light before, when she’d stumbled into the village two nights before. She’d just assumed it was a hallucination.
“The flaming scorpion!” Zeb said, squealing as another explosion of curling light shot into the air. The tails of yellowy red did vaguely resemble the curving points of scorpion tails.
“It looks like a firebomb,” Calix said, coming up beside her.
Aris shook her head. “A bit, but there’s no concussion. And it’s moving almost like smoke, sort of slow and undulating.”
“Maybe we’re too far away to feel the blast?”
Alistar walked toward them. “It’s not a firebomb. We’re not sure what it is. The ‘flaming scorpion’ has lit the night sky on and off for months. Always in the same place. It’s a mystery.”
Aris patted Zeb’s head as he released her wrist and scampered over to where the other children gathered to watch the show.
“During a war,” she said, a chill running along her arms, “mystery is never a good thing.”
Chapter 30
For a long time, Dysis sat on the edge of Daakon’s med-bed and watched him sleep. His skin was ashy, with dark hollows under his eyes, but his breathing had steadied. Alistar had wrapped his ankle with a thick white bandage.
She wished he’d wake, so she could tell him she was sorry. Daakon didn’t need to know he’d broken her heart; it didn’t do either of them any good.
When she emerged from the ramshackle clinic, the sound of voices drew her to the back of the building. There, in the dim light of two flickering street lights, a group of children stared in awe at the sky. A few yards away, Calix stood with Alistar. She followed their line of sight to the red-gold swirl undulating across the sky.
“What is that?” she asked as she reached the two men.
Calix glanced at her, his face darkened by shadow and the beginnings of a beard. “The children call it the flaming scorpion.”
“Huh. Sounds ominous.” She almost laughed. What wasn’t ominous, these days?
Alistar drifted away, gathering up the children and shuttling them toward the caves.
Dysis crossed her arms over her chest, a protection against the chill night air. “Where’s Aris?”
“She went to help Samira get the children’s belongings together,” Calix replied. “They don’t have much, but some have things they want to bring with them . . . mementos from their families.”
Dysis dropped to the sandy ground, her eyes still on the strange light in the sky. “We should probably be doing something to help.”
Calix sat beside her. “In a minute.”
She got the sense that he understood that she needed that minute. Just to sit. Breathe. Acknowledge to the stars that both her best friend and the man she loved had cheated death. That, even here in enemy lands, she was lucky.
She snuck a look at Calix. She’d assumed he’d be a coward. The kind of man who would feel threatened by a strong woman. Why else would he turn his back on Aris?
But the way he’d reacted when Daakon was hurt—killing that snake, sucking out the venom—those were not cowardly acts. And she never imagined she’d be grateful to him.
“How did it feel?” she asked, hoping to put him on edge as he’d done to her.
“How did what feel?” Calix glanced at her, a patch of light catching his cheekbone.
“Breaking the rules. Again.” She smirked. “You’re a deserter and a rule breaker. One might even call you a rebel.”
He smiled ruefully at his knees. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Doesn’t it feel good to use your own brain once in a while?” She swept a hand along the ground, making small finger-shaped tracks in the dirt.
“I have respect for the laws and traditions of our dominion. That doesn’t deserve ridicule.” His face tightened as he looked up at the sky, where the last swirls of the flaming scorpion faded into the darkness. “Without law, without respect, this is what you get. A dominion where its own people feel victimized and alone.”
“Not all rules should be followed,” Dysis protested, shifting uncomfortably.
Calix turned to her, his gaze piercing. “And you think you should be the one to decide which ones are worthy? The Peace Accords might not be perfect, but they—”
“Hey, you’re the one breaking all the rules these days,” she interrupted. “I wasn’t trying to start a political discussion. I just think you’re uptight and wrong about Aris. And me, for that matter. We deserve the right to do this job. Things do change, Calix. Rules change. People change.”
She wanted to get up and leave. She shouldn’t have to defend herself. But, in the end, she decided to stare him down instead.
He looked away first.
“You’re right. Aris and I are living proof.” He stood, slowly, as if the movement pained him. “The thing is, I’m not sure I can see Aris that way, as much as I want to.”
“What do you mean?” Dysis stood, too. A cool finger of breeze slid across her neck.
“I know she’s independent now. Strong, like you.” He scuffed a boot against the ground. “But as hard as I try, all I see is the Aris I grew up with. The one I need to protect, take care of. I don’t know if that feeling will ever go away.”
“You did a good job tonight, respecting her wishes.”
He didn’t reply.
She cleared her throat. “I should find Aris. There’s a lot to do before tomorrow.” She hurried away, focusing on the small points of light that stood vigil in the dark.
Behind her, his voice, gruff and desperate, begged, “Don’t tell Aris I deserted. Please.”
***
With Gaven’s help, Dysis found the long, low-ceilinged cave where the children slept. Aris and Samira huddled near the entrance, surrounded by small hemp bags. Beyond them, the children slept on pallets, their meager belongings stacked neatly at the end of each bed. Dysis leaned against the rough stone, just outside the dim lantern light, and watched as Aris snuck down the line of beds, gathering each child’s things one by one. She delivered them to Samira, who catalogued everything before placing it in a bag with the child’s name written in heavy black ink.
Most items were commonplace—tattered clothes, a collection of smooth stones, a cracked digitablet—but they were all treated as treasures. Some, like a necklace set with polished bloodstones and an intricately carved wooden doll, were valuable for more than their memories.
“Do these children have any money?” Aris whispered, as Dysis eavesdropped. Samira lovingly wrapped the doll in its owner’s softest dress. “How will you afford a place for them to live?”
Samira didn’t look up. “Not much. Our hope is that we’ll be taken in as refugees until it’s safe to return to our families.”
“And the orphans?” Aris ran her thumb across the rough edge of a crude wooden box.
Samira glared at her. “They will not be abandoned.”
“Of course not.” Aris sat back on her heels and sighed. “I keep saying
the wrong thing.”
Samira’s busy hands paused. After a moment, she said, “You could have let your friend hit his beacon. You didn’t need us to get back to Atalanta, but you stayed. Why?”
Dysis shifted, trying to get a better view of the woman’s face.
“I gave you my word that I would help.” Aris studied the box she held.
“Words are just words. But . . . thank you,” Samira said grudgingly.
Dysis could use a little more reassurance that her friend wasn’t being coerced into helping, but she’d heard enough. She emerged from the narrow tunnel and into the flickering lantern light.
Aris smiled. “Hey Dysis. How’s Daakon?”
“Better.” Dysis jerked her head back toward the tunnel. “Can we talk? Privately?”
Aris glanced at Samira. “How much more do we have?”
Samira waved a hand. “Only two more. I’ll finish up.” She looked a little relieved to be rid of Aris. “Take these bags to the common room, if you would. We’ll be staging the exodus from there.”
Aris nodded.
Dysis helped her collect several of the small satchels and filed into the dark. Lanterns were hung at wide enough intervals that whole swaths of tunnel filled with shadow.
“Where’s Calix?” Aris asked. She let Dysis lead the way.
“Daakon and I had sex,” Dysis blurted, the words echoing too loudly against the stone. She didn’t know why she said it. She’d wanted privacy to discuss the Safarans, but somehow that was what came out.
“What?” Aris yanked Dysis to a stop in a patch of darkness before they reached the next lantern. “When?”
“Right after I found out you were dead. Or, at least, when I thought you were dead.” Her breath hissed through her teeth. Talking here, in the complete darkness, without facial expressions or body language to read, almost felt like their conversations while cramped in a wingjet cabin.
“Um . . . so . . . are you okay?”Aris’s voice stuttered through the inky black.
“Do you believe people can change? Shouldn’t we be able to change?” Dysis clipped the words.
Storm Fall Page 16