Renegade Red

by Lauren Bird Horowitz

  Judah didn’t answer.

  Noa wasn’t sure why it was so important to her that he not write off Hilo, who had betrayed him so terribly and broken his heart. But she’d also been the first to tell Judah he didn’t have to be what others thought him. That he could decide for himself. And he’d believed it, however briefly. Something in Noa needed him to forgive her.

  “You’re forgiving him too quickly,” Judah murmured softly.

  “Him?”

  “Callum,” Judah replied. “You’re forgiving him too quickly.”

  “I’m…” Noa swallowed. “He’s made mistakes, big ones, but—”

  “He lied to us about Lily. Sasha. He’s lied … so much…” Judah’s whisper trembled. Noa was relieved it was so dark—in the light, she was sure he would have turned away.

  “I know he has,” Noa whispered, struggling to find the words. “But, Judah … Callum also gave me Sasha. And himself. When I needed them most…” She closed her eyes as she felt him curl away.

  But he didn’t leave. He paused.

  “What about the In Between?” Barely a breath, almost inaudible.

  “I … Judah … it wasn’t real—”

  “It was, just in a different way,” Judah said.

  Noa didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t open that again; it was too big, too hard—

  “Just remember, Noa. You and I? We fought it. We fought to remember, to escape … no matter how much we may have wanted to stay.”

  Noa swallowed. She couldn’t see him, he wasn’t touching her, but she was sure he had lifted his fingers toward her hair. She could feel the memory of their gentle movement there, trying make braids, could hear his laugh … but she didn’t want to remember. She didn’t want to feel it. She wanted him to stop talking, stop prodding. If she spoke now she knew she’d start to cry—

  “It burst out of us,” Judah continued, “Your poems, my drawings … even Olivia and Miles, despite having the things we wanted most—”

  A tear ran down Noa’s cheek; she tasted its salt as it passed her lips.

  “Except Callum,” Judah pressed. “He didn’t feel it, Noa. He didn’t fight.”

  Noa blinked back her tears, forced herself to answer. “You don’t know that.”

  “But you do. He didn’t have any idea when you went to see him, did he?”

  “No,” Noa admitted. “Not until he touched the talisman.”

  “A remnant of magic from outside the In Between. His mind didn’t fight on his own.”

  “So what?” Noa said, finally turning toward where she knew he was.

  “Because it’s him!” Judah hissed in frustration. “It’s who he is! He’d rather be in charge, have power, even if it hurts others! We even called him Otec in there, just like Darius! That’s the truth of what he wants!” Judah was seething, breathing hard.

  “You’re wrong,” she bit back. “You say the talisman did the work for Callum, but you have no idea. The talisman worked because it was something he made for me in sacrifice. Our connection woke him up, Judah, our…” She hesitated, not quite saying love. “His mind may not have woken him, but his heart did. If that’s not proof of who he truly is, how much he tries—”

  “You promised me you wouldn’t forget me—”

  “I know what I said, but things are just more complicated—”

  Judah muttered something, glaring into the shadows. It sounded like words are sacred.

  Noa shivered. She hadn’t actually said that in the In Between, had she? Hadn’t that been in her dream?

  Noa shook off the chill, drew up her strength. “He’s your brother, Judah—”

  “And because of him, you’ve lost another sister—”

  “That’s your fault, not mine.”

  Judah and Noa turned: Stellabugs suddenly lit the room, Callum had released them from his hands. Awakened by their war of words, he was now staring daggers at his brother. His face was hard, his voice like ice: “You threw Sasha through the Portal, Judah. In your petulance. In your anger. You made the decision to take Noa’s sister from her, not me.”

  Judah glared back. “It was an accident,” he hissed. “No matter how many times you try to tell another lie.”

  Callum smiled a small, sad smile. “You know I’m not lying, Judah. Read my mind, Brother. I don’t need to read yours.”

  Judah clenched his teeth, snorted like a bull. The brothers stared each other down, until finally, finally, Judah looked away.

  “I’m sick of babysitting. You watch her,” he snarled. He got up, stalked to the far wall, and curled up with his back to them.

  Callum watched him fiercely, then seemed to sag. He found Noa’s face, cocking his head gently to invite her to come sit beside him.

  His face was warm; she felt the tingle of reassurance that she always felt from his gentle eyes, but for some reason, she didn’t want to go.

  “I’m tired,” she told him. He nodded in understanding, silently lowered his hands to the ground beneath her to soften the surface. She curled up alone, her back to him and Judah both. Callum dimmed the Stellabugs, and then she heard him shift to lie down behind her. He was careful to leave a space between them, and Noa…

  She was relieved.

  • • •

  Noa couldn’t sleep. Eventually, she slipped softly to the corner, where Judah and Hilo had built the home for Stellabugs. Curious, she reached in to touch them, and to her delight, they glittered into soft, twinkling light.

  Noa felt a gentle hand on her back. “They’re really beautiful,” Callum murmured behind her. “I never would have thought of them because I would have just used my gift… but they’re so much more beautiful than anything I could have made.” Callum’s voice wrapped around her, cocooning her in safety, sureness, warmth.

  Which made what she had to say that much harder.

  Noa looked where Judah lay; his back rose and fell with even breaths. She hoped he wasn’t faking. This was not something she wanted him to hear.

  Noa turned to meet Callum’s eyes, gasping a little despite herself as she gazed into those rich, pooling velvet eyes. They never failed to mesmerize, even now.

  She took a breath, listened to the air. Then spoke:

  “This has nothing to do with what Judah was saying, however you much you heard. I want you to know that.”

  His eyes flickered.

  “I mean it,” Noa said firmly. “I don’t believe what he says, that there’s something…”

  “Wrong with me.”

  Noa gently touched his cheek. “I don’t believe that. You brought me light when I had none. I remember what that felt like. I feel it still, every time I see you, every time we touch.”

  Callum nodded sadly. He knew already. She sighed.

  “But I can’t just go back to how it was. I thought I could, I think I wanted to … but now … I just … need time.”

  Callum swallowed shakily, closed his eyes. “Is … is part of it … because of Judah? Not what he said, but…” his voice became so quiet, she could barely hear it, even in the silent, hidden room, “how it was between you?”

  Noa hesitated, but she needed to be honest. For her own sake, as well as his.

  “I can’t unremember what it was like,” she said carefully. She clasped his trembling hands, “but, Callum, that’s not why.” She held his gaze, willed him to believe her with all her mind and heart. “It’s just, right now, all I can think about is Sasha. Everything else…”

  Callum nodded bravely. Gently, without consciously deciding to do it, Noa kissed him—not passionately, not deeply, but light and lingering and soft. The familiar, tingling glow spread through her as their lips met.

  “It’s not the end,” Noa promised him breathlessly, knowing he had felt it too, had felt it with her. “I will keep my promise.”

  Moveme
nt interrupted them, made them break apart.

  “Don’t let me interrupt,” Judah muttered from his corner, where he’d gotten to his feet.

  Noa looked at Callum; he nodded, tired.

  “Callum and I … we’re not going to be together right now,” Noa told Judah. She hated the way the corner of Judah’s mouth quirked up at her words. “It’s nothing to do with you,” she added harshly. “I just want to focus on finding Sasha.”

  Despite her tone, Judah slid his gaze to Callum, glinting. Callum stood up straighter, met his brother’s dancing eyes with an unwavering and unreadable stare.

  “We need to make a plan,” Callum said. “We’ve recovered ourselves down here, but if we want to find Sasha, we’re going to have to go back aboveground and try to track her.”

  The merry glint in Judah’s eye was replaced with his familiar cynical scorn.

  “And we’re gonna do that without showing our faces how? Arik saw me. Everyone will be looking for Darius’s sons.”

  Callum frowned. “I’ll use my gift to transfigure our appearances—”

  Judah threw up his hands. “Perfect! We’ll just hope no one notices the blue alarm tubes blaring everywhere we go!”

  “Well what’s your plan, Judah?” Callum replied hotly. “I don’t hear any actual suggestions!”

  “Actually, I have a suggestion,” Noa announced. They turned to her in surprise. She tried not to look smug. “I will go above and try to get information. I’m not a famous Forsythe; no one knows my face; I doubt Arik looked at me long enough to see beyond some random pixie who needed punishing. And I can’t set off any of those tubes.”

  “Are you insane?” Judah said instantly. “You can’t go by yourself!” He turned to Callum, indignant. “Tell her!”

  But Callum looked thoughtful. “Actually, it’s not a bad idea.”

  “What? Mr. I-Know-What’s-Best-to-Protect-Everyone? You’re just gonna send her up like a sacrificial lamb into a world she knows zero about and where she has absolutely no gifts to protect herself?”

  Callum remained cool. “Not magical gifts, maybe, but Noa’s a quick thinker. Look how she unraveled the In Between—that was some serious magic, and she pulled it apart. Without gifts.”

  “That was different! It was in our minds—”

  “Which was way more dangerous!” Callum interrupted in frustration. He made visible efforts to keep collected, but his words hissed at Judah through his teeth anyway: “Right now the only thing we have going for us is that they may think we’re dead. If there’s a chance Darius isn’t coming after us, we have to preserve it as long as possible.”

  “It’s the only way,” Noa insisted. Judah clenched and unclenched his fists, and Noa hid a smile. She could tell he was seeing the logic of her plan.

  “Still,” Judah said finally, “Noa will be completely on her own—in Aurora. She doesn’t know this world. She’ll have no safety net.”

  Callum frowned. He looked at Noa, wavering. He finally sighed, looking at Judah in resignation. “You’re right. You should go too. Stick to the shadows, read her mind if she gets in trouble. I don’t know, we can dirty up your face somehow, hope they’re only looking for us together…”

  Judah suppressed a furious, frustrated scream. “It won’t work, Callum! Even if I could somehow avoid setting off Red alarms, I can’t read her mind, remember?”

  Callum narrowed his eyes. “That’s in your head.”

  “It’s not,” Judah insisted fiercely.

  Noa barely breathed: they were standing on a land mine, and they all knew it. They remembered with perfect clarity when Judah had announced he could no longer read Noa’s mind, how he’d claimed it was because he was in love with her and she loved him back. According to a powerful Red named Fabian, an ancient magic was evoked when Fae and mortal loved each other—causing the Fae gift to stop working on the one he loved.

  But Noa wasn’t in love with Judah, and Fabian had been a cruel and sadistic liar.

  “I can’t read her mind, Callum,” Judah insisted through gritted teeth.

  “You’re just undisciplined, and you always have been,” Callum replied coldly. “This is just another excuse. Your gift has always been weak—what, have you been in love with everyone?”

  Noa saw Judah’s tiny wince, felt the kernel of uncertainty she knew he was desperate not to show. Even Judah had admitted to Noa that he wasn’t very skilled.

  “Either way,” Judah said finally, “I can’t read her mind. So for me to go would be pointless—”

  “You’re both being idiots!” Noa exclaimed. “The whole point is to keep you two from being seen. I don’t need a watchdog.” She turned to Callum. “You said it yourself. I’m a quick thinker. I can handle this.”

  “But—” they both protested as one.

  Noa huffed, curled her fists into her waist:

  “I’m not asking for permission.”

  • • •

  Judah led Noa and Callum in tight silence through the Tunnels toward the hidden exit Noa would use to go aboveground. With every step through the endless, identical roundness and sickly lavender light, she trembled a little more. She knew if she wavered the brothers would stop her from going, so Noa did what she sometimes did at Harlow when she needed to push herself forward: visualized herself as a machine and gave herself simple commands. Step. Step. Breathe.

  Callum’s hand found hers in the dark, squeezed it lightly. To give her strength, no matter how things had changed. Noa thought suddenly of her mother and the secret code of hand-squeezes they’d shared when she was little.

  Judah stopped short ahead of them, then backed up, looking around slowly. “Wait—go back to the last turn. I meant to go the other way.”

  Callum eyed him sharply. “I thought you never make mistakes down here.”

  Judah scowled and crossed his arms. “I don’t. But look around, I’m not a robot. You lead the way if you think you can do better.” He pushed past Callum roughly with his shoulder.

  Callum exhaled harshly. “It’s just important that we send her up through the right exit, one that’s well-hidden,” he said through gritted teeth.

  Judah ignored him, turning back into what he now recognized as the correct tunnel. Noa and Callum followed for fifteen more minutes before Judah stopped and looked up.

  “We’re here. This should let you out into an alleyway in the remnants of the old marketplace. It’s the farthest point from the palace, and a complete ruin.”

  “Plenty of cover,” Callum explained. “Where the Resistance used to camp and hide.”

  Noa nodded. They had gone over the plan already, several times, but hearing it repeated in Callum’s calm voice helped to make her brave. “I’m ready,” she finally said, voice steadier than her pulse.

  “We’ll be right here,” Callum assured her. “If you get scared, just come right back.”

  Judah scoffed. “Really useful mission that would be.”

  Noa glared at him. “I won’t get scared.”

  Noa She turned from Judah, took a deep breath, shook her shoulders like a prizefighter warming up. She walked to the wall; Judah showed her almost imperceptible hand- and footholds leading to the ceiling, disguised among the pressed vines and stones.

  The first hold was a little high. Noa lunged awkwardly to reach it, and Callum was instantly at her side. “Wait, let me make a ladder—”

  “No! There may be alarms up there. I’ll be fine.”

  She finally got purchase on the wall, then lifted up first one foot and then the other. She wobbled but felt Judah’s hands suddenly steadying her back.

  “I’ve got it,” she snapped, trying to ignore the increased pounding in her chest. Not looking down, she slowly, steadily, climbed up the slippery, pockmarked wall. When she reached the ceiling overhead, she felt for the spot that was not as solid as it appe
ared.

  “Feel it? It’s kind of murky?” Judah called up from below.

  Noa bit her lip as her fingers finally sank into the sticky spot. This was it. Without looking back, she pushed herself up through the dark miasma and out into light.

  The first thing Noa realized was that she was not in the abandoned, shadowy ruins of a marketplace with plenty of cover. She had popped out into the middle of a wide-open, pristine street, in the dead center of a busy, polished neighborhood.

  The second thing she realized was that she’d been seen—

  —by someone charging right at her.

  • • •

  Noa had barely registered the incoming body before it streaked into her, bowled her backward, and smashed her into the wall of a nearby building. Her head crashed into the smooth, cold surface; her vision blurred; she gasped for air, blinked wildly, and for a split instant saw only the face of her attacker—

  It was a girl, just a kid. Younger than Noa. Noa felt a tiny flush of relief—and then the small girl raised her hand…

  And slammed a jagged rock hard into Noa’s forehead.

  • • •

  When Noa blinked into consciousness, she found herself in an elegant living room, decorated simply but luxuriously with raw silks, plush chairs, clean wood—and all in tones of white. It looked a little like Miles’ family’s penthouse in Manhattan—too immaculate for normal people. For a moment, Noa wondered if she was somehow still at Miles’, waking from the strangest dream—

  But then Noa saw her, the girl: dirty-faced and scowling and very, very real.

  The pixie, Noa corrected herself. The pixie who had attacked her and now glowered at Noa from her perch on a clean, white couch. Noa’s head throbbed. She reached up to touch her forehead, felt a bandage there.

  “You … hit me.”

  The girl scowled behind messy locks of choppy black hair. It was uneven, some places to her chin, some to her shoulders, like she’d hacked it hurriedly herself with something dull. She couldn’t have been than twelve.

  “Saved you, more like. You trying to get us bagged, popping up like that? Who’s your owner?”