Shattered Stars

by Theresa Kay

  Now, I have friends to worry about. Family, too. So I choke back my fear and put on my own soldier persona. My anger I leave in place, because it keeps me moving like the lick of flames at my heels. Sure, there are plenty of noble reasons I’m doing this: saving Ethan, saving the E’rikon. Hell, saving the whole planet could probably be added to that list, since Jastren’s genetic meddling is sure to have devastating consequences if allowed to continue.

  But the not so noble desire for vengeance on Jastren is part of it too. He took my brother from me, and that was only after breaking Jace so effectively that it nearly killed me. And even though Jace’s hand held the knife that killed Flint, that death is on Jastren’s head as well. And Peter’s. And Emily’s. And the deaths about to come, whoever they might be.

  I hate this. The uncertainty of it all.

  Lir kisses the top of my head and inhales deeply against my hair. I would have preferred you stayed behind with Trel.

  And I would have preferred you to, so we’re even. I tilt my chin to look up at him. Like it or not, we’re in this together.

  He smiles down at me but doesn’t say anything.

  Besides, remember what happened the last time you left me behind somewhere while you went to do something?

  He gives me a droll look and his eyebrow arches upward. Yes. That was peachy.

  I tap my chin with one finger, pretending to think. Actually, every time you’ve left me behind…

  He smirks. You’re impossible.

  Improbable.

  That too.

  We go back to sitting in silence. I drift off into a state of half awareness as I watch the world float by the windows of the truck. My body grows lighter, and the next thing I know I’m jerking awake hours later as the truck pulls to a stop.

  “Are we there?” I give my head a brisk shake to clear away the lingering sleepiness.

  “We’re still a few miles out,” says Gavin. “I think we should give the bird thing a try here before heading any closer.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Everyone piles out of the trucks into the crisp early morning air, and I stretch my arms over my head and glance at the people around me. Seven humans, me, Lir, and three E’rikon. Twelve people to save the future.

  As Rym and Kai step onto the grass, my eyes zero in on their clasped hands. They’re both tense, their bodies held stiffly with pulled back shoulders. Rym meets my eyes, and one side of his mouth curls into an uneasy smile. There’s no guarantee we’ll both come back from this and—

  I give him a subtle shake of my head. You don’t have to explain it to me.

  Vitrad finishes talking to Gavin and turns to face his son. Kai’s fingers go slack for a moment, and the hurt in Rym’s eyes makes me want to hit the Vi’askari. Even when his fingers tighten again, I still kind of want to hit him. I’m not so sure he deserves my golden-haired friend after everything Rym told me.

  Vitrad’s jaw tightens as he takes in Rym and Kai’s stances, but surprisingly, he doesn’t exactly seem all that angry. He walks over to his son. Chin down, eyes closed, he places a hand on Rym’s shoulder and nods. Whatever he’s saying to Rym, it must be something big, because Rym’s half smile morphs into a more genuine one, a hopeful one.

  Vitrad then turns to Kai, whose face is a mask of near indifference. There’s no touchy-feely moment with the Vi’askari, but something passes between them, and Kai jerks his chin up in acknowledgment.

  I guess Vitrad’s decided it’s finally time to make amends. After all, there’s a good chance not all of us will be coming back from this. I hate feeling that. I hate knowing that. But dwelling on it isn’t helpful. I need to do something.

  “So.” I clap my hands, startling half the group with the noise. “Tiercel isn’t here. What do I do now?”

  “Can you call the bird to you?” Rym asks. “Like you did when you were arguing with Kai?”

  Putting aside the fact that I didn’t call Tiercel to me then, would that actually work? It sounds stupidly simple—or maybe simply stupid—but what other options do I have?

  I close my eyes. Words might not work with an animal, so instead I concentrate on a mental image of him flying toward me.

  Minutes pass, and nothing happens. No bird streaking across the sky. No hawk screeches. Nothing at all. So much for the idea that I have some magical connection to birds. It’s nice that in this one way I’m actually normal. I mean, how off the wall would it be if—

  A hawk screeches in the distance.

  No. It can’t be. But it is. As the shape of the bird draws closer, I recognize Tiercel’s coloring. So much for my little piece of normality.

  Lir’s hand finds my lower back. Amazing.

  Of course you would say that. I shoot him a droll look from the corner of my eye. You’re not the freak of nature here.

  As Tiercel swoops closer, Lir pulls me into his arms. You’re not a freak.

  I ignore his words and fiddle with the shirt wrapped tightly around my forearm. It better be thick enough for Tiercel to land on, otherwise this is going to hurt. I whistle twice, then hold my arm in front of my body with my forearm parallel to the ground. Tiercel swoops down. The tips of his talons do press all the way through the fabric and into my arm, but not enough to break the skin. The hawk tilts his head to the side and stares at me.

  Vitrad’s brows rise, and he rocks back on his heels. Impressed or surprised, I’m not entirely sure.

  Using one finger, I stroke the side of Tiercel’s face and coo softly at him. “Hey there, buddy. It’s good to see you.”

  He squawks and shuffles his feet farther up my arm as he tilts his head to the other side.

  “I don’t have any meat for you right now.”

  Another squawk.

  I turn to look at everyone else. “He’s here. Now what?”

  Vitrad clears his throat and steps closer. “Presumably you would connect with him and send him toward the city.”

  “Gee, thanks. I hadn’t thought of that,” I say dryly. “How exactly do I do that?”

  Everyone shrugs. Some help they are. I guess I’m on my own.

  I study Tiercel, holding his gaze with mine. It can’t be that much different from linking to another person, right? In fact, it should be easier, because Tiercel won’t have any blocks or anything acting as obstacles.

  I close my eyes and reach out, searching for something to latch on to. And I find something. Easily. But it’s like no other connection I’ve ever seen. The pale brown thread is as thin as a spider’s web, and as light as one too. It floats in the air, dancing on an unseen breeze, seemingly untethered to anything else. When I brush against it, it hops away, like a skittish wild animal. I try again, this time more slowly, getting close enough that I can feel the strange impulses and emotions from the hawk without actually connecting yet.

  Then I wait.

  Friend.

  Calm.

  Safe.

  I let those three words float across the distance between us on a soft and soothing current. I make another attempt to complete the connection, and this time I’m able to grasp the thread and pull it toward me.

  Connecting to Tiercel is… different. There isn’t the complexity of a human mind on the other end, more one made of instinctual impulses and emotions. If you can even call them emotions. To Tiercel, everything is black and white, not color-wise, but in a “this or that” type of way, and it’s difficult to navigate the connection to figure out how the hell I’m supposed to tell him what to do.

  Good or bad?

  Good.

  Food or None?

  None. Sorry.

  He pulls back from me, and I feel him shake out his feathers. I guess that means I should stick with the words he gives me. This time his mind reaches toward mine, almost curious.

  Up or Down?

  Up?

  The weight on my arm lifts away as Tiercel takes off, the connection extending between us as he rises. It’s strange, this feeling of soaring through the air wh
ile simultaneously having both feet on the ground. I don’t control Tiercel’s movements—I’m pretty damn sure I wouldn’t know how if I tried—but I can feel each feather, each tiny adjustment in course to use the wind, each muscle working in concert with the air currents to keep me aloft.

  Though I can’t quite direct him, I can make gentle suggestions about where I need him to go. He streaks toward the city and about ten minutes later slows to circle one of the towers. The sidewalks are mostly empty, even in this section of the city, with only a dozen or so E’rikon strolling the streets. And there’s no sign of Brin or any of the other remaining Council members.

  My view angles sideways as Tiercel catches another wind draft and swoops lower. Closer now, I can see that the building that houses the Council appears to be closed. Two E’rikon stand in the alcove beside the doors, half-hidden in shadow. Guards? With a soft tug, I ask Tiercel to go by the residential tower for a closer look there as well.

  Something buzzes in my ears. My real ears. Words. I can’t… My split consciousness is pulling me in two separate directions, and it’s affecting Tiercel. I’m pulling him back to me rather than maintaining the connection. His wings lose their rhythm, and suddenly we’re both hurtling toward the ground, unable to stop.

  “No!” I yell aloud, my head spinning as the ground rises up.

  The buzzing stops. My head clears, and I return my concentration to Tiercel, who returns his concentration to flying. I have him take a couple more passes through the main areas of the city and around the three towers before sending him back in our direction. He passes over what appears to be a residential area and…

  Are those children? Small, brightly colored E’rikon are walking down the sidewalk between four darker-haired adults.

  I bring Tiercel in lower, and even though it’s a quick pass, I can’t miss the tumble of green and gold curls. Stella! Tiercel’s wings tremble at the strength of my shouted thought, and I have to concentrate to pull him back into the air.

  The children are here. Free? What does that mean?

  I turn the thoughts over in my head as Tiercel arcs upward and skims across the sky, following the lines of the buildings to the more industrial section of the city, closer to the research facility. There’s no one over here, civilian or otherwise. I ask Tiercel to take one last pass, and he angles his wings to bank into a turn.

  Pain, searing and bright, streaks from the hawk’s mind to mine, and once again he loses the motor control necessary to stay in the air. This time though, he doesn’t regain it—no matter how much I try to focus on him and the mechanics of flying. He crashes into a patch of grass, one wing landing twisted underneath his body, He screeches in pain and I match him with a whimper. He gets his feet back under him, but his wing is bent at an awkward angle, and pain radiates from it.

  What’s going on? Is it broken? I have no way of knowing for sure, and the longer I stay connected, the more the pain transfers into me.

  The buzzing has started up again, accompanied by a wavering sense of alarm and Tiercel’s sensation of being trapped and injured on the ground, unable to escape. It’s compounding with my own panic, and my heartbeat pounds rapidly in my ears.

  Tiercel attempts to hop into the air, flapping his wings once, and crumples back to the ground.

  Stuck!

  Trapped!

  I can’t… I can’t…I can’t separate my fear from the hawk’s anymore, and those icy tendrils are freezing the both of us in place.

  Bad.

  Bad.

  Bad.

  The word replays on an endless loop, keeping me locked inside Tiercel’s simple mind.

  The noise in the background goes sharp and harsh, and I’m yanked back into my own head just as I see a flash of red hair.

  “BAD!” IT’S THE ONLY WORD my lips can form as I struggle to get the rest of my body under control. Arms and legs are foreign things after wings and feathers. My whole body feels too heavy, and I’m stuck to the ground.

  My eyes fly open. Lir is yelling my name and I’m gasping for air, my heart rapidly thumping in my chest. Human. I’m human. My lungs seize, stutter, and then inflate with a single deep breath that I let out slowly. I draw in another breath, blink my eyes a few times, and give my head a brisk shake.

  “I’m okay,” I cough.

  Lir presses his face into my hair and runs a hand down my arm. “That was awful. You looked so content there for a bit, and then suddenly you looked like you were terrified.”

  “What happened?” Gavin asks. He crouches down, and his worried eyes meet mine.

  I shake my head again. “There was… I don’t know how to describe it. A light or something. And then I lost control and Tiercel crashed and…” I straighten. “He’s injured. He can’t get out.”

  “Can you connect with him again? Find out what’s going on?”

  “No. He’s too worked up. The connection was difficult to begin with. It’d be impossible now.”

  “So now what?” Rym asks. “Did you see anything useful, or was this a waste of time?”

  I rub at my eyes and blink a few times, working on getting the world to feel normal again. “Stella. The kids. They’re there. Walking around.”

  “What?” asks Lir. “How?”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  Vitrad releases a loud breath through his nose. “It makes a bit of sense. We did decide Jastren did not actually require anything of the children—they were merely a combination of bait and a distraction, correct? Perhaps he let them go once he got what he wanted. And perhaps they are not as ‘free’ as they appear. Most of the Council is dead. Brin is in charge. If he is working with Jastren, holding the remaining Council members’ children would be… an advantage.”

  “What else did you see?” Gavin asks.

  “The towers appear to be guarded. Not heavily on the outside. Obviously, I couldn’t see the interior.” I pause. “The research facility… it wasn’t guarded, but that’s where Tiercel went down, and what happened wasn’t natural—more like he ran into something midair. A barrier of some sort. A portable one like Jastren used? Before I pulled back, I did see someone with red hair. It could have been him.”

  Gavin rubs his chin and glances from person to person. “That’s… not good.” He turns to Lir. “Thoughts?”

  Lir thinks for a moment before speaking. “The area by the research facility is uninhabited, industrial. There is absolutely no reason for a barrier in that section of the city. Was there anyone else there, Jax?”

  I shake my head.

  “Would Jastren really be stupid enough to be out there alone?” Stu asks.

  I snort. “Stupid? No. Overly confident and a little nutso? Definitely.”

  Gavin thinks for a moment. “Were there any Bridgelake soldiers around? I know we took out the ones from the Council room, and Cartuck was at the base, but Jacobs had more men than that, and I’m assuming they’re following Jastren’s orders now.”

  “Not a one. No humans in sight.”

  “What about the rest of the city? The other E’rikon? Help, hindrance, or unknown?”

  “They all looked stupidly normal,” I say. “Like everyone’s going about their day-to-day business and nothing’s wrong.”

  Lir arches a brow. “Truly?”

  “Well… they aren’t exactly cowering in terror or anything. They’re cleaning up, and the square or whatever you guys call it looks like it’s being prepped for a meeting—one of the holo ones like Vitrad did after the attack.”

  “There was no sign of … unrest anywhere?” Vitrad asks.

  “None.”

  “Maybe Brin was telling the truth,” says Gavin. “Maybe Jastren went back to Bridgelake.”

  “No,” I say. “There would be no point in him going back there, not when he was already in the city and possibly getting some assistance from Brin. Perhaps he’s controlling them, calming them somehow.”

  Vitrad tilts his head to the side. “If we can get the p
eople on our side, break his control over the city…”

  “No,” says Lir. “It would be too much of a risk to focus only on Jastren, and it could put civilians in unnecessary danger.”

  “He’s right,” says Gavin. He rubs the bridge of his nose. “Okay guys, we’re going to have to split up. I don’t like it, but we all knew it would be a possibility, though not necessarily under these circumstance. One team to locate the E’rikon children. Take them to safety, if needed. Based on what Jax saw, there’s a possibility, however slim, they may be perfectly safe. We—”

  “I will be taking my sister regardless,” Lir says.

  Gavin holds up a hand. “Understandable and fine. The other group goes to the research facility, finds out what’s going on over there, and meets back here with that information. Basically, get in there, assess the situation, and, for now, get out. We don’t have enough manpower to get involved in anything more than a skirmish.”

  It’s a good plan—safe, sensible—but… “If Jastren is at the research facility, we need to take him out. Or try. Right now, he might not expect us, and between whatever Jace may have done and the shikiza, there’s a good chance he’s weakened. If we—if I—don’t take this chance, next time he’ll be prepared.”

  Gavin clears his throat. “Sounds… I won’t say good, because I’d prefer to avoid engaging Jastren, but I think you’re right.” He sighs. “What do you think is the best way to divide the teams?”

  I bite at my lower lip and glance at Lir. “I should go to the research facility with Kai, Rym, and Vitrad. I need the Linauds for their shield enhancement and Kai for fighting. Stu can drive us. The rest of you go for the kids.”

  Lir’s jaw tenses, he closes his eyes, and he takes a deep breath.

  I place a hand on his shoulder. Gavin and the other humans need a guide, and the children will need to see a familiar face. I know this situation isn’t exactly what we were hoping for, but if there’s a chance for me to take down Jastren, it needs to happen. And you need to get your sister and the other children to safety.

  He exhales slowly. You’re correct, but it is still difficult for me. I feel torn between wanting to protect you and wanting to protect my sister.