Flame: A Sky Chasers Novel

by Amy Kathleen Ryan

  Mather lifted her chin and intoned, “Blessed be the LORD, my rock, who trains my hands for war and my fingers for battle. Many of God’s chosen people were called to defend their faith, and we may be no different. The wolves are circling, my friends, and they call themselves the church elders. Look around you! Do you see any of them here?”

  The tension in the room climbed, and Kieran heard murmurs moving through the crowd as people looked around.

  “They’re coming. They’re coming to depose me, strip this room of its vestments, and plow over our church! I ask you, brothers and sisters, will you stand with me if we are attacked?”

  Kieran heard the creaking of chairs and saw that already people were standing up, looking determined.

  “Will you put down your spade and pick up the sword, if the forces of darkness threaten to swallow us?”

  Several more people stood. Kieran’s stomach dropped and his pulse quickened. What was this?

  “We shall not be silenced!” Mather’s voice sailed over the heads of her congregation, electrifying the air. Her crew answered with raised fists. “We will defend our faith, and we will be victorious, for we stand on the side of the LORD! And the generations hereafter will remember us as the great generation, the stalwart founders of our home on New Earth, forever and ever!”

  “Amen!” the congregation answered and erupted into a cacophony of cheers, pounding feet, and clapping hands. Kieran had to fight his instinct to hide his head. Most people fixated on Mather, but one woman to his right looked at him through narrowed eyes.

  Through it all, Mather held her hands over her head, drinking in their adulation, a light in her eyes that he recognized. I’ve felt that elation, he thought to himself, sickened. After a sermon that went well, I felt like she does now. Like a god.

  He never wanted to feel that way again.

  After services, Kieran stood next to his mother, staring at the floor, going over Mather’s sermon in his mind, marveling over the contradictions that no one else seemed to notice. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Felicity Wiggam smiling at him. She wore a dark kerchief over her bright yellow hair—that must be how he’d missed her in the crowd. Her skin was creamy, and fiery color touched her cheeks, highlighting her pale eyes.

  “How are you?” Felicity asked him.

  He nodded. “All right, I guess. You?”

  “I’m doing well,” she said, looking around furtively. “What did you think of the sermon?”

  “She’s a skilled speaker,” Kieran said honestly.

  “Yes,” Felicity said carefully, then leaned in to whisper, “But I’m tired of war.”

  “Me too,” Kieran said. Admitting this brought a wave of drowsiness over him. If only he could hide away under the covers of his warm bed. “I’m still trying to understand how she can say love your enemy one second and raise the battle cry the next.”

  Felicity only looked at him with her fringed blue eyes. She was afraid, he could see. He had the sudden, irresistible desire to know her, to learn every part of her past and her hopes, to see the world as she saw it. His gaze dropped to her long, tapered fingers, and he noticed a ring on her left hand where a wedding ring should go.

  “Are you…?” he began, taken aback.

  “Married?” She laughed and lifted the ring for him to look at. The setting contained a blue stone that flashed under the lights. “I’m engaged.”

  He tried hard to hide his shock. “To who?”

  She turned and pointed to a group of laughing men. A handsome, smallish man with thick hairy arms waved at her, and she smiled. “His name is Avery,” she said and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “He proposed a few days ago. He’s making the rounds, telling everyone.”

  “But he’s so…” Kieran shook his head.

  “Old?” She shrugged. “I’d like to have a family of my own. And there isn’t anyone our age available anyway.”

  “What about me?” he blurted before he could think how it might sound.

  She laughed nervously, shaking her head as though he’d made an inappropriate joke. “You’re with Waverly.”

  Kieran stared at her with his mouth half open, unsure what to say.

  Felicity read his expression. “Did you break up?”

  He gave a small nod, embarrassed into silence.

  “Honey!” The man Avery held out a hand to Felicity. She hesitated, looking at Kieran, obviously reading everything he was feeling as he wilted under her gaze. She saw his embarrassment and, kindly pretending not to notice, turned and went to her intended, letting the man wrap his arms around her and press his nose into her cloud of pale hair. She looked over her shoulder at Kieran and held up a hand to wave good-bye.

  He nodded.

  They looked away from each other, and the moment passed.

  NEXT

  Seth sat on his bed wearing short black pants and a loose-fitting tunic, clothes he’d borrowed from Anthony. On his feet were espadrilles woven of goatskin that creaked every time he flexed his toes. Tonight his fate would be decided. He’d spent two weeks in Maya’s care and now was strong enough to be moved. That morning Maya had told him to expect a “family discussion” about where he should go from here. His stomach had a fluttery feeling, and he forced himself to take deep breaths to slow his skittish heart. He thought he could probably trust Maya, but he knew Anthony would do anything to protect her, including turning Seth in.

  Soon Maya appeared in the doorway to his bedroom. “Ready?” she said.

  He got up, feeling shaky on his feet, and went into the living room. He was surprised to see several strangers seated on soft-looking chairs draped with colorful African prints.

  “This is Seth,” Maya said to the room at large, patting his shoulder.

  Anthony stood from a rumpled blue chair and, without ceremony, started unwrapping the gauze on Seth’s hand. “I’m just going to take a peek. How’s it feel?”

  “Sore,” Seth said with an uncertain glance around. He didn’t like being examined in front of strangers, but the rest of them were involved in quiet conversations and weren’t even looking.

  “Bones feel okay,” Anthony said, turning his hand over. “But that wound looks red.” He touched Seth’s fingers gently. “I think I’ll start you on a stronger course of antibiotics.”

  “Should I be worried?”

  “Nah,” the doctor said. “I’ll get you the strong stuff.” Anthony rewrapped Seth’s hand with fresh tape and gauze. It felt sturdy and comforting.

  Seth sat in a stiff wooden chair and looked at the faces of Maya’s “family.” It took him a moment to recognize the guard with the barrel chest who had helped him out of the tropics bay that first day. He took up an entire chair with his stocky frame, his light brown eyes trained on Seth, and he held up a hand in greeting. “I’m Don.”

  “Thanks for, uh…”

  Don waved away his words. “Don’t even.”

  “This is Selma Walton,” Maya said, holding a hand out to a plump old woman, maybe the oldest person Seth had ever seen, with a sagging neck and thick forearms that were covered with glittering gold bracelets.

  “Seth.” Selma smiled, lighting up. “Welcome.”

  “And this is Amanda.” Maya pointed out a very tall woman sitting folded in a chair in the corner. She was wrapped in a brightly colored shawl, and she smiled warmly.

  “Maya tells me you know Waverly,” Amanda said to him. “I helped her escape, along with another woman named Jessica Eaton.”

  “Is Jessica still…?” Maya began, looking at Don.

  “Still in the brig,” Don said quietly.

  Seth expected this to be a disappointing answer, but everyone in the room looked relieved, and he realized they’d feared she might be dead. This, more than anything they’d said, told him how great a risk they were taking in helping him.

  “Have you heard from Chris?” Anthony asked Don.

  “Not yet,” Don said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat
.

  “Who is Chris?” Seth asked.

  “He’s Don’s brother,” the tall woman answered. “No one has seen him for over two weeks.”

  “I have an idea of where he might be,” Don started, and everyone looked at him, but he seemed unwilling to say more.

  Maya picked up a large earthenware teapot. “Darjeeling, anyone?”

  Without waiting for a response, she poured tea for each person, handing small egg-shaped cups to her guests. Amanda sipped distractedly while Selma took in the aroma, her hands folded over the warm cup. “A real treat, Maya.”

  “Maya always gets the best stuff,” Don said to Seth, feigning resentment.

  “She wheedles,” said Anthony, sending a loving jab at her. “And people give her things.”

  “That is because I am irresistible,” Maya said, handing Seth his tea before plunking onto a beanbag chair with a grunt.

  “Careful,” Anthony told her. “You don’t want to shake that baby loose.”

  “Anthony,” Maya said warningly.

  “I have a question about that,” Seth said.

  Judging from the way everyone turned in unison to look at him, they were surprised he’d spoken at all. “Waverly left this ship months ago, but you can’t be that far along.”

  Maya’s hand went to her belly. “This little one came from a frozen embryo.”

  Seth braced himself. “How many babies came from Waverly, then?”

  Anthony looked at him steadily. “We were able to divide several early embryos. We got a total of, I think, thirty-two from her. The total, from all the girls together, is about one hundred and eighty, not counting the ova Felicity Wiggam has been very generous to provide. We can only hope they all come to term.”

  Seth was stunned at the number. “Did any of you think to ask Waverly how she felt before you took her eggs?”

  Amanda ducked her head with a guilty glance at Maya but said nothing.

  Anthony sliced the air with a fine-boned hand. “Anne Mather told me Waverly and the rest of the girls had given consent. Believe me, I wish I had talked to the girls myself before I took their eggs, okay? I lose sleep over it.”

  Seth studied Anthony, who shoved his small round glasses up the narrow bridge of his nose. The man seemed to be telling the truth, but Seth still couldn’t forgive what he’d done to Waverly. “If it bothers you so much, why are you still using the embryos?”

  “Should we let them die?” Maya said, her manner much more shy and hesitating than usual, which showed how mixed her feelings were. “And what about the rights of the men who donated their sperm? They don’t want the embryos of their children destroyed.”

  “Where is Waverly?” Seth asked. “Do any of you know?”

  “I’ve seen her,” said Selma, “but I don’t know where they’re keeping her. I can tell you she’s pretty feisty, and she looks okay.”

  “How did you see her?” Seth asked. “Can you get me to her?”

  “Impossible. The church elders are considering taking testimony from her. Until she’s on record, she’s being kept sequestered.”

  Seth didn’t like the sound of that. “Can you get a message to her?”

  “I don’t even know where they’re keeping her,” Selma said. “Don, could you try to find out?”

  Don nodded deferentially to the woman, who seemed to have the kind of authority that comes mostly from a strong personality. Seth looked around the room at each careworn face and decided he liked these people. He instinctively trusted them. If he was going to help Waverly and the rest of the kids, he needed their help.

  “Look,” Seth said, and he stood up to get their full attention. “Maya hasn’t told me anything, but I know who you people are. You’re part of a resistance organization, and I want in.”

  Amanda’s cheeks puffed out. “Resistance! That’s rich.”

  The other people in the room tittered.

  “It’s not a joke,” Seth said, and the room quieted. “You are the resistance. Even if you haven’t done anything yet, that’s what you are.” Maya’s eyes shone with fondness as she looked at him. “Anne Mather and her friends killed our crew, hobbled our ship, stole our girls, and used them horribly. Is this a government you support?”

  “I think everyone here agrees with you, Seth, but what do you propose we do?” Amanda set her small teacup on the side table. “Anne still has a lot of loyal followers.”

  “Do they know the truth about her?” Seth asked.

  “They know everything we know,” Anthony said as he adjusted his glasses on his nose, “but we seem to be the only ones who have a problem with what’s going on.”

  “Not true,” Seth said, surprising himself with his certainty. “Others do have a problem with it. It’s got to be nagging at the backs of their minds. What they need is someone to bring it to the fore.”

  “How do you do that?” Selma asked with a grin.

  “You put it into words,” Seth said. He’d thought about this while he was healing under Maya’s care. The only way to get Anne Mather was to foment rebellion, and every rebellion in history was based on a few choice slogans. “Give them a battle cry.”

  “Articulate it for them,” Maya said, nodding as she tucked a leg underneath her, adjusting a yellow crocheted blanket over her knees. “Frame it.”

  “That’s what we’ve got to do,” Seth said. “Right? We convince them.”

  The adults all looked at each other, worried.

  Seth sat back down on the wooden chair and picked up his mug, looking thoughtfully into the mirrored surface of the black tea. “On the Empyrean, the kids would draw graffiti if they weren’t happy with Kieran Alden.”

  “Like cartoons?” Amanda asked. Of all of them, she seemed the most interested.

  “Sure,” Seth said. “Slogans, that kind of thing.”

  “How do we do that without getting caught?” Anthony asked, seeming irritated by the idea.

  “The kids always wore hooded jackets to hide from the cameras,” Seth said.

  Suddenly the room exploded with the sound of knuckles rapping on the door. Seth tensed up, sending a throbbing needle of pain into his hand.

  “Maya?” called a husky voice. “Open up!”

  “It’s Thomas!” Maya whispered.

  “Hide!” whispered Selma, shooing Seth out of the room. “Don! Come with me.”

  Selma and Don sneaked into the bedroom where Seth had been staying. Selma hissed and tried to beckon him, but he knew all three of them would never fit inside that wardrobe, so instead he ducked into Maya’s bedroom just before he heard the door being forced open and heavy boots stomping into the room. Seth dove into the master bedroom closet and closed the door behind him.

  “Is this a meeting?” said a booming voice.

  “We’re a group of friends gathered for tea, Thomas,” Maya answered bravely. “Is there something wrong with that?”

  There was a pause, then Thomas said, “I count six teacups here.”

  “Some of my guests left a few minutes ago,” Maya said quickly.

  “Search the place,” Thomas said to someone.

  With his good hand, Seth pulled at the paneling at the back wall of Maya’s closet, creating a space just large enough that he could crawl into the narrow passage behind the wall. He sidled in, pursued by the sounds of her bedroom being ransacked, and pulled the panel closed just as he heard the closet door open and hangers screeching along the pole.

  “Nobody here!” called the guard.

  Another guard called the same thing from the other bedroom, where Selma and Don had hidden. Seth exhaled long and slow, leaning against the ductwork that surrounded him. He thought he might pass out from fear.

  “Are you hiding the fugitive here, Maya?” Thomas said in the living room.

  There was a pause before Maya recovered enough to say, “No!”

  “You’ve been taking a lot more food from the stores than usual.”

  “I’m pregnant,” she said. “Eating for two, you
know?”

  “Stand up,” said Thomas.

  “What are you doing?” Maya cried.

  “Anthony’s going to come with us now.”

  “What for? He didn’t do anything wrong!”

  “Maya,” Anthony said in a warning tone.

  “When did this start?” she cried. “When did we become a society where guards barge into people’s homes and take away whoever they like?”

  “What are you doing?” Anthony yelled in the midst of a scuffle.

  “She’s coming with us.”

  “Maya didn’t do anything!” Anthony said.

  “Then she has nothing to worry about.”

  “T-Thomas…” Amanda stuttered, “Maya is p-pregnant. You can’t…”

  “Shut up for once, Amanda,” Thomas said, and Seth heard heavy boots leave the apartment.

  Every cell in Seth’s body wanted, needed to know what had happened. But if he went back into that room, he could get them all killed. So as quietly as he could he crept through the narrow passageway that snaked behind apartments, tripping over electrical boxes and squeezing past plumbing and ductwork, his heart in his mouth, with no idea of where to go.

  HEARING

  “Mom,” Waverly said, then knocked on her mother’s bedroom door. She poked her head in to find her lying on the mattress, a washcloth across her eyes. “Another headache?”

  “This one isn’t too bad,” Regina said, beckoning her daughter.

  In the dark room, with her mother’s familiar smell, Waverly couldn’t resist lying next to her and laying her head on her shoulder. Regina had always suffered from migraines, and this familiar scene felt almost like home. Tears pooled in the corners of Waverly’s eyes as she gave herself up to the sensations of her lost home, her lost mother.

  Lately Waverly felt more distant from her old life than ever, after what Jared had told her about her father and his supposed role in sterilizing the New Horizon crew. She didn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true of the man whose warm heartbeat had once lulled her to sleep.