Darken the Stars

by Amy A. Bartol

  When we stop for a water break, I pull my flask from my backpack and take a sip. There’s not much left. We’ll have to find more soon. Phlix makes a frustrated sound next to me. She’s pulling all the contents from her backpack out. When it’s empty, she glances at me with fear in her eyes. “I think I left my water flask where we slept last night.” I extend my flask to her. She takes it and sips from it. “We’re going to need more water soon,” she says guiltily.

  “Then we look for some on the way. Does the map show where we might find some?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “It just shows the basin where we depart Ethar. That’s still at least two rotations away if we don’t increase our pace.”

  “Then let’s increase our pace,” I reply. “There has to be some somewhere.”

  At the next stop, we waste valuable time looking for water, but come up empty. It worries me. Maybe we can just push through this without water, I think. Then I look at Phlix, whose normally pale face is flushed and sweaty, and I worry that she won’t be able to handle it. She’s not used to this much exertion. I hand her what’s left in my flask and insist that she drink it.

  Morning comes, and I find myself licking the dew from leaves to ease my dry throat. Searching for shelter to rest during daylight, we find a niche in a rock formation. It’s only large enough to fit the backpacks and the two of us. We place our flipcarts on the ground inside and lay on top of them, using our backpacks as pillows. Phlix has several muscle cramps during the day that keep her awake. As soon as night falls, we emerge from our hiding place, gathering our stuff together quickly.

  “What’s that?” Phlix asks, pointing at a shiny metal object on a nearby stump. Walking to it, she reaches out her hand for it.

  “Don’t touch it,” I warn her.

  “But it’s my flask! And it’s full of water!”

  “Leave it,” I bark.

  “Where did it come from?”

  “Them,” I say, grabbing her hand and pulling it back from the flask. I look for some kind of trap, but I can’t see one. It doesn’t matter. The water itself could be contaminated.

  “Them? Who are they?”

  “I don’t know, but they aren’t us, so let’s go.” Right before we get on our flipcarts, I hear the hum of airships. Phlix glances up at the same time I do.

  I tug on her arm to pull her back toward the hole, when she says, “Wait!” She closes her eyes and concentrates. “We’re shadows, Kricket. They can’t see us,” she promises.

  I wait. Two formations of hawk-like ships pass over us slowly, searching the area. One of the ships I recognize because I’ve been in it before. It’s Giffen’s ship. He’s looking for us. “That airship there”—I point to Giffen’s ship—“belongs to the guy you electrocuted in Kyon’s home.”

  “Do you think he’s still angry?” she asks with a weary smile.

  “He’s sort of a grudge holder.”

  “That’s unfortunate. He’s a bit on the handsome side.”

  “He is,” I agree.

  We quit speaking when the ship in question dives toward us abruptly. My heart claws at my chest to get out. The ship hovers near us, as if it’s checking us out. I hold my breath, not that it will help, but I have no control over it. Just as abruptly as it descended, it ascends, climbing back to rejoin its formation. When it disappears from sight, Phlix sits down and wraps her arms around her knees. “I thought they saw us for a second.”

  I crouch down next to her. “Me too.”

  Using her gift has clearly drained her energy even more. “We should go,” she says.

  We travel half the night without resting. We stop when the trees get denser and it takes more effort to weave between them. It’s actually good news, because the aircraft that we heard earlier will have a harder time finding us with this much vegetation. I leave Phlix to rest by our backpacks while I scout around for water. She’s listless and has a hard time concentrating on anything I say to her.

  “Did you find anything?” she asks with her eyes closed when I walk back to her.

  “No,” I reply.

  “Okay,” she says and gets to her feet. “We should be there soon. I can make it.”

  “We’ll make it,” I say confidently, but I may be lying.

  I repack the backpacks, taking the heaviest items from Phlix and putting them in my pack. I lead the way, checking the compass and the map frequently. We come upon a small hill, and just as I crest the top of it, I spot Phlix’s flask in the middle of the path we’ve been following. My flipcart flies over it. I don’t stop. Glancing behind me, I notice that Phlix sees the flask too, but she ignores it as well and we keep going.

  Stopping at a big tree, I wait for Phlix to catch up. When she does, she dismounts from her flipcart and sits down with her backpack still on. She leans it against the tree and closes her eyes. I shrug off my backpack and put it next to her. “I’ll go look for water,” I whisper.

  “They’re watching us, aren’t they? Taunting us.”

  “Yeah,” I reply.

  “It doesn’t matter. Even this is better than Pike.”

  “We’re going to make it. I promise.”

  “Kricket,” Jax says from somewhere behind me. I straighten and turn to see him walking slowly toward me. In his hand, he carries Phlix’s flask of water. “I think you dropped this.” He cautiously moves forward.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “Its just water. That’s all,” he replies honestly.

  He stops a few feet away and stretches the bottle toward me. I look around between the trees, but I don’t see anyone else with him, not that I thought I would. The only time I’ll see them is when they want me to see them. I take the flask from Jax and back away from him. Moving to Phlix, I unstop it and hold it out to her. “It’s okay,” I say. “Its just water.”

  “You’re sure?” she asks.

  “Yes. He isn’t lying,” I tell her.

  Phlix takes the flask from my hand and takes a sip and then another. She hands it to me. I shake my head, saying, “I’m okay. You drink it.”

  “You need some too,” she urges.

  “Maybe later,” I reply and straighten.

  “Your friend is right, Kricket. You should drink some water,” Jax says worriedly. “You haven’t been eating either. You’re going to be sick. Do you need food too?”

  “No. I don’t need anything. Are you almost finished, Phlix? We have to go.” I start to walk to where I left my flipcart, but Trey emerges from behind the tree next to me. He grabs me by the throat and pushes me up against a nearby tree. In his hand he holds a bottle of water.

  Scowling at me, he says through clenched teeth, “Drink this!” His jaw is so ridged I’m surprised he can speak at all.

  I wasn’t aware of just how betrayed I feel until this moment. I know it’s wrong to blame him for doing the right thing—for doing what he had to do to save everyone and everything he loves . . . everyone but me. I think I’m the most hurt by the fact that I’m not like him. I would’ve chosen him over everything else. The whole world could’ve burned down and I would’ve pulled him from the wreckage of it.

  “No. I don’t want anything from you, Trey.”

  His violet eyes narrow as his hand lets go of my neck and he clasps my chin, squeezing it so that my mouth opens. He tilts my head back and pours water between my lips, making me swallow large gulps of it. I choke a little, coughing and gasping, but otherwise he isn’t hurting me.

  By the time the bottle of water is empty, the front of my shirt is wet and I’m livid. Tossing the empty bottle aside, Trey shifts his hand back to my throat and holds me steady against the tree. His violet eyes never leave mine as we try to kill each other with drop-dead stares.

  Then Trey holds his hand out to Jax, “Hand me a protein bar,” he demands.

  “Sir . . . I think she’s capable of—”

  Trey’s scowl deepens as he growls, “Hand. Me. A. Protein. Bar!”

  Jax follows orders and places one
in his hand. Trey tears off the wrapper with his teeth and holds the protein bar up to my lips. I clamp my mouth shut, but he forces a bite into my mouth. I turn my face away from him and spit it out onto the ground.

  Dropping the protein bar, Trey winds back his fist. I cringe, steeling myself for the hit. Instead, he punches the trunk of the tree by my head. His fist comes away bloody again and again, but he doesn’t stop. “Jax,” I whisper. Trey continues to hold me by my neck as he pounds the tree with his fist. “Jax!” I yell. “Give me a protein bar.”

  Trey’s bloody knuckles rest against the bark of the tree. I feel Jax place the protein bar in the palm of my hand. Bringing it to my lips, I take a bite, chewing it. I almost choke on it because of the lump in my throat, but I manage to get it down. I eat the whole thing in three bites. Trey lets go of my neck. He leans forward and rests his forehead against mine. I don’t move; I just close my eyes and breathe for a moment. Then I put my hands on his chest and push him away from me. I don’t meet his eyes. I can’t. Instead, I duck away from him and look at Phlix. She’s on her feet, staring at me with fear in her eyes.

  “Are you ready to go?” I ask her in a broken voice. She nods. I turn and gather up my backpack, hitching it onto my shoulders. Then I mount my flipcart and take off in the direction of the basin. When I look back over my shoulder, the only person I see behind me is Phlix.

  We travel all the rest of the night through the Forest of Omnicron at a faster pace than before. According to the map, we will make it to the water containing the portal to Earth just before dawn.

  As we rest for the last push to the mountain that forms the basin, Phlix asks, “How will we know where to enter the water?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit. “I was sort of unconscious when Trey dragged me out of it last time.”

  “Trey? You mean that enormous Cavar back there who made you eat that protein bar is the person who brought you here?”

  “Yes,” I reply.

  “He’s in love with you.”

  “No. He isn’t.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “He’s too good for me. I never would’ve made him happy.”

  “He would’ve been happy the rest of his life with you,” she replies quietly. “He will live a lonely existence without you. I only hope he’s gracious in defeat.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He doesn’t strike me as someone who ever allows himself to lose.”

  “Believe me, Trey will figure out soon that he dodged a bullet.”

  “He’s a soldier. He lives for bullets.”

  “Please drop it, Phlix,” I beg. My voice is raw. It feels like I swallowed chunks of glass.

  She reaches out and strokes my hair. “He’ll wait for the day he can say that you’re his again. You don’t have to fret about it now. It’s the reason neither of you said good-bye to each other back there. It’s not over.”

  We travel through the last part of the Forest of O on foot, carrying our flipcarts on our backs. From the cover of the trees, we see the water. It’s amazing in the darkness. The surface is black in every area except where the portal resides. In that place, it’s as if sunshine rises to the surface.

  We make our final preparations. Finding the tankoids that will allow us to breathe for a time underwater, we set them aside to carry them to the water’s edge. I find the small box that I’d asked Phlix to pack for me, the one gift-wrapped with a pink bow. I set that aside too. Phlix raises her eyebrows. She must not have peeked inside. I knew she wouldn’t. Everything else that we no longer need gets abandoned in a pile there. Taking turns, we use strong tape to fasten our flipcarts and backpacks more securely to us. Then we fasten rope around that to make sure our gear stays with us, no matter what.

  Howls call out in the moonlight. My flesh erupts in goose bumps and my back bows in fear. It’s unbearably real; this feeling that we still might not make it. I step out of the trees, my knees shaking, exposed on the smooth rocks to the cool breeze coming off the mountain peak. I’m as desolate as a prayer in the wind.

  Phlix takes my hand and squeezes it. It makes me feel a little less unholy and unwanted. “I’ve shadowed us,” she says, “but know that once we reach the water, the ripples will reveal us to whoever watches.”

  We both walk hunched over to the illuminated path at the water’s edge. Letting go of her hand, I find a large rock there and leave my pink-bowed box on it. Phlix doesn’t comment. She puts the tankoid in her mouth and sets her nose clamp, preparing to enter the water. I do the same.

  Nodding to her, I try to wade into the water in a way that causes the fewest ripples. It’s colder than I remember. I’m not sure if I begin to quake from fear or from the frigid temperature. Either way, it numbs me to the terror we face as huge spotlights shine down on us from above. Hovering airships, the kind that New Amster soldiers use, descend from far above us. I prepare to dive beneath the water when a ship sets down on the bank near us and the maw of it opens up. Matchstick men emerge like roaches.

  From the far bank, I hear an agonizingly beautiful voice yell, “Baw-da-baw!” Blue laser fire comes from the far bank, near the sandy dunes and tall reeds, scattering New Amster soldiers along the shore as they scurry away for cover. Treading water for a moment, I watch the Cavars pin down the men sent to kill me.

  Phlix touches my arm and nods. I nod back. We both stop treading water and submerge into the glowing abyss. The unendurable need for oxygen is not present this time around; the tankoid takes care of it. I’m able to swim without my lungs being turned to fire. The current becomes stronger the deeper I dive, pulling me into the bright light. My skin ripples as the pressure increases. It tears at my golden-blond hair, which streams behind me. I can’t see Phlix. I pray that she’s still with me. I need her probably more than she needs me.

  The riptide of the portal slows and the glow begins to dim. My skin is snowy white as I make for the watery hilltop speckled with underwater stars. The current becomes almost nonexistent. It lets go of me. I struggle and tumble in the cold pool as the heavy pack on my back weighs me down. Fighting to reach the bank I can see ahead, my breathing becomes shallower, because the small tank of oxygen is running low. I almost weep when my feet scrape the incline of the bank, and I stand with my head above the water. I trip forward, wading until I fall to my knees and crawl the rest of the way through the black volcanic sand to the lip of the pool. I rip the tankoid from my mouth, taking my first breath on Earth in so many months.

  Beside me, Phlix spits out her tankoid, coughing and wheezing as she collapses with her cheek in the sand. We stare at each other, panting and gasping and in shock. I reach out and take her numb hand in mine. I know we have to move soon so that we don’t become hypothermic, but I can’t seem to make myself do it just yet.

  Phlix’s voice reverberates in the cave, bouncing off the dripping stalactites that threaten us from the rock above. “Your friends saved us.”

  I nod because I can’t speak. I can’t talk about it now or I’ll never make it. I’ll just lay here for the rest of my life with a dead heart. She seems to sense that I’m close to tears.

  Instead she asks, “What was in the box?”

  “A letter to my sister and a warning not to follow us.”

  “Do you think it will work?” she asks.

  “I hope so, but we won’t take any chances. We’ll have to hide. We can’t go to Chicago. We have to start over.”

  “Where would you like to do that?” Phlix asks.

  “Have you ever been to college?”

  “I’ve never been anywhere.”

  Rising to my feet even though I’d rather not, I help Phlix up. We unwrap each other from ropes and tape. Unfastening our flipcarts, we carry the boards out of the glowing chamber, away from the pool. We put on our night-vision glasses once more, and it’s easier than I expect to find my way to the bottom of the cliff wall; I merely have to follow the footprints on the ground.

  Phlix shows me the holographic button
s to press to change the mode and make the flipcart elevate straight up. Hers rises faster than mine. As I rise past the rock, I remember almost dying in this spot. When I’m almost to the top, I don’t know why, but I look down into the darkness and shout out, “Baw-da-baw!” The sound echoes.

  Then I’m at the summit, where Phlix is already waiting for me. We shift our flipcarts back to hover mode and surf our way through the rest of the cave. The night sky greets us as we emerge from the dark mouth of the cavern.

  Phlix lets out a deep gasp as she sees the moon for the first time. It’s autumn and the moon glows orange, hanging low in the sky. We pause for a moment, staring at it. “They call that a harvest moon,” I say, as my damp hair stirs in the warm fall breeze. “It’s not always like that.”

  “Where is the other moon?” she asks.

  “There’s only one moon,” I reply.

  “That rips my heart out. It must get so lonely,” she murmurs.

  “It’s not alone. It has the world.”

  EPILOGUE

  Dear Astrid,

  If you’re reading this letter, then you know that I’ve chosen to leave Ethar and live out my life under different stars. I promise to stay far from you, beneath Earth’s darker skies. It’s my hope to become a vapor trail, fading from your world and from your mind.

  Memories of you are the most desolate aspect of all of this for me, because I know that I once loved you. I’m certain of it. Whenever I try to remember you, it’s as if I’m looking into the sun. I see glimpses of the little girl you once were, but it begins to hurt my eyes and it fades and I’m forced to look away. What I think I know is you’re the well and I’m the hollow. You’re the tree with roots and I’m the swallow. I hope you don’t think I never loved you because I did. I spent my life looking for you—for Astrid.

  I don’t want to be a star, caged by the night. I won’t be hung up in the sky for others to decide how high I can soar. No one gets to do that but me. I can’t be someone’s possession. I won’t be owned. My heart has grown fiercer; I want wildflowers without worms. I want love, but on my own terms.