The Dark Sky Collection: The Dark Sky Collection

by Amy Braun

  I tiptoed out of my bed, padding to the door and pressing my ear against it. I couldn’t see through the keyhole, but my parents’ voices were loud enough. They probably had no idea they’d woken me.

  “It won’t make a difference, Deanna. We don’t have time to make a prototype, and there’s no guarantee it will even work. This isn’t the kind of job we can rush. We should just take Claire and go.”

  I imagined my mother whirling around, her sharp green eyes flaring with intensity as she faced my father.

  “And where are we going to go? Tell me, where in all of Aon do you think we’ll be safe from him?”

  “He made it clear that Westraven is his target, nowhere else. Maybe that monster will attack other cities, but we can’t worry about that right now. We just need to keep on the move, stay alive until–”

  “The Vesper won’t stop at Westraven! He’ll destroy every inch of Aon after what we did! Our neighbors don’t deserve that. The Sky Guard doesn’t. Thousands of children don’t. Our little girl doesn’t. I won’t run and leave them to that creature, Joel. I won’t do it. There has to be a way to close the Breach, and I will find it.”

  There was a long pause, and I wondered if my mom turned away from my dad. Her voice was shaky, barely audible when she added, “I understand if you want to take Claire and leave. I won’t stop you, but I can’t turn my back on hundreds of thousands of innocent lives. Not when we’re part of the reason they’re about to be destroyed in the first place.”

  The next silence was longer still, and my heart began to race. Dad won’t leave, will he? He loves mom. He loves me. He can’t go, he can’t–

  “It’s the smart thing to do,” he said. “You know that, Dee. There’s a chance we’ll fail at this, too. If we’re both killed, what will happen to Claire then?”

  Mom didn’t reply. Dad sighed heavily. I heard some shuffling.

  “It’s the smart thing to do,” he repeated, “but not what I’m going to do. I can’t believe you even suggested it. The thought of taking our daughter and leaving you here… I wouldn’t forgive myself for that.”

  My heart swelled with relief. I almost yanked open the door and ran to them, until I heard Mom cry.

  “I’m sorry, Joel, I just… I can’t let someone else pay for my mistake. I can’t…”

  Dad’s voice became muffled, as though he was whispering or holding her and speaking into her hair. I stepped back from the door and padded to my bed. I crawled under the covers and drew them up to my chin, staring at the ceiling. The darkness stretched across it, so thick I couldn’t see the corners of the walls.

  At the time, I didn’t know what they were talking about, or what a Vesper was, but I wasn’t scared. I knew my mom and dad could do anything. They’d built incredible machines on limited time frames before. They could do it, they could save everyone…

  Coming out of the memory, I tucked the key under my shirt again and glanced at Abby to make sure she was still asleep. She continued to moan and stir, but her eyes remained closed. I hated that I would have to leave her again tomorrow, especially since her illness was getting worse. But she couldn’t come with us. If anyone saw what she was becoming, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. And if Davin or the Hellions decided to return…

  I shivered, wrapping my arms around my middle.

  Not for the first time, I wish I had pushed myself harder. When my parents returned from the Breach, just before the Hellions began The Storm, they had been different. They didn’t smile often, and when they did, there was no joy in it. It was a lie to give me the illusion of safety. I would ask what was wrong, if I could help, and my mother would gently stroke my hair and whisper with defeat, “There’s nothing you can do.”

  How long did she think that before she gave me a baby sister and a key I didn’t know how to use? Did she believe in me so much that she didn’t think to leave me her journals or notes on what I was supposed to be creating in her stead? Was it before she realized that she had failed, and Westraven was destroyed? Was it after my father died?

  I sighed. Her reasons didn’t matter. I had to look at the key as the piece of a puzzle that was never finished. I couldn’t think of the secrets it held or what kind of past the Vesper had with my parents. It wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t return parents to orphans, or husbands to wives, or sisters to brothers.

  I didn’t know what I could do, if I would make things better or worse for everyone. If I would even live long enough to see this machine completed. If it even existed. Garnet Dayton, the Electrician who all but press-ganged me into his service, had worked with my parents during the Discovery and saw no reason to lie when he told me about their hopes for shutting the Breach. But neither did my mother, who told me nothing.

  Yet I wouldn’t accept defeat just because the obstacles in my path were continuing to get steeper. I wouldn’t abandon hope that I could find a purpose for this key, and I wouldn’t believe that Riley was some kind of traitor when all he had done was help. I wouldn’t leave my sister to the fate of a beast too cowardly to face his enemies.

  Maybe I was selfish after all.

  Chapter 4

  “Well, finding your house should be easy. Everything in the district is a pile of rubble.”

  I glared at Sawyer’s callous sarcasm, though he wasn’t wrong.

  Before The Storm, the drafter district was renowned throughout Aon as the most beautiful part of Westraven. Mostly occupied by engineers, architects, and Electricians, the buildings of the district were constructed of towering, whitewashed stones. Gleaming windows would reflect the sun and warm the pale grey cobblestone roads. Silver lampposts stood like slim trees on the shop corners, their bulbs shining like clear moons and lighting the entire block. The fountain depicting a dancing woman with a drooping scroll was placed in the Drafting Square, where monthly competitions used to be held for the best designed statue, the most effective electric current, and the quickest repair. Crowds would come in droves to watch the competitions. My parents always participated in the repairs, and would often win rewards of fancy dinners or free clothes from the wealthiest shops and restaurants in the market, and once even a trip to Meridia, the tropical, southern-most province of Aon.

  Now, ten years later, I stood on the bow of a Hellion skiff, looking at the crumbled shops and apartments. White stone had become black with soot. Glass glittered under wind-swept dust, hiding most of the dark, crimson-stained cobblestones. The lampposts were tarnished and warped, some even knocked onto the street to block the roads. The fountain was shattered in heavy pieces, the dancing woman now a broken doll that would never be put back together again.

  There were no bodies, no smoke, no sign of survivors. If there were any, they were probably hiding in the dilapidated buildings to avoid being seen. With the darkening clouds forming over our heads and the bitter, winter wind snapping at our faces, I couldn’t blame them for wanting to be indoors.

  Looking at the state of drafter district weighed down my heart, but I was glad Abby had never seen it. I couldn’t imagine the heartbroken look on her face when she looked at the destroyed remains of the place she could have called home.

  I stood to the right of the helm without looking at Sawyer, my eyes trying to piece the broken streets back together to match the images in my memory. Nash and Gemma were near the bow, huddling together for warmth. Both of them were whispering quietly, casting grim looks at Sawyer. The captain stared straight ahead, but I had the feeling Sawyer saw them all the same.

  “Is…” I hadn’t meant to bring the topic up, but Sawyer was already looking at me, expecting me to continue. “Is everything all right with you and Gemma and Nash?”

  Sawyer’s eyes became shadowed, the darkness vanishing so fast I was half certain I’d imagined it.

  “It’s fine,” he smiled thinly. “Gemma’s just thinking I should be more lenient and less suspicious, and Nash is agreeing with her.”

  “Well, you could be, you know,” I prompted.

&nb
sp; He turned his eyes to me, a smooth grin sliding across his face. “And lose my reputation as a cynical bastard? What fun would that be?”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head, pretending not to notice the way his gaze traced over my face.

  This was the first time we had really spoken to each other since arguing about Riley. The tension hadn’t completely dulled between us, but I was hoping to at least remove the awkwardness it left behind.

  “How long do you think it will be before the storm hits?” I asked.

  Sawyer and I looked up at the sky, watching the thick grey clouds bring heavy snowflakes and harsh winds.

  “Another hour, maybe,” answered Sawyer. “But it’s going to be a nasty one. If it gets bad, we might have to seek shelter here for the night until it passes.”

  That made me turn and look at him. “We can’t leave Abby alone that long,” I said sharply. “What if the Vesper gets into her mind again and she hurts Moira? What if she hurts herself?” The image of her attacking someone as strong as Nash flickered through my mind again. Moira was a small, fragile woman with a broken mind and an open heart toward my sister. If the Vesper invaded Abby’s mind and made her react violently again, Moira wouldn’t be able to protect herself. She might not even try.

  “We can’t help Abby if we freeze to death,” Sawyer reasoned. “We don’t have the tools to predict the weather weeks in advance anymore. The search will go faster with all of us, so maybe we can miss the worst of it, but I’m not driving the skiff back in the middle of a blizzard.”

  I scowled at him, marching away from the helm and sitting on the deck next to Riley. He watched me silently as I folded my arms over my chest.

  “Are you all right?” he asked me, shifting closer to I could hear him over the wind.

  “I’d be better if Sawyer sped this damn skiff up,” I complained.

  Riley glanced at the captain. He returned his gaze to me. “He’s doing his best, Claire. A sterner, saner captain wouldn’t have gone out in a storm at all. But he did so because you asked him.”

  I tightened my arms over my chest, refusing to look at Sawyer even though I could feel his golden gaze on me.

  “I know you’re worried about Abby,” he continued, “but she’ll be safe as long as Moira’s with her.”

  I wanted to believe that, but the knots of worry in my stomach wouldn’t untangle. Abby was barely eating, unable to sleep through her nightmares, wracked with cold sweat and chills, and bleeding red into her irises. She was slipping away from us, becoming something I couldn’t dare think about. I didn’t know how much time she had left, if there was anything Moira could do to delay her morbid transition. If there wasn’t, and the Abby I knew and loved disappeared into something else...

  Riley reached across the skiff and gently squeezed my knee. His gentle, trusting smile reassured me. Like the rest of us, he was bundled in a heavy, fur-lined coat and pants, thick leather gloves, and fleece-lined winter boots. His hair was tossed wildly from the breeze around the skiff, his ears, cheeks, and nose rosy from the cold, but he looked content. Happy, even. I managed to smile back at him, grateful for the comfort he was offering me, even if it was hollow in the end.

  “Is that it up there?” Gemma asked, shouting over the howling wind.

  I turned in my seat to look at the female marauder, then let my eyes slide over the bow of the skiff to the winding road ahead. I scuttled to the front of the ship, holding onto the mast so I could gaze at the hillside estates. The secluded, peaceful part of the city where I grew up.

  The elegant gothic homes that once stood on the hills were reduced to splinters. Pieces of shattered stone tumbled down the hill to create a crude path. Oak trees that once stood proud between the houses were now bare, blackened fingers poking up from a desolate earth.

  Sawyer tilted the skiff, pushing us up the hillside and past the first line of demolished houses. The harsh snow scratched along my face as the wind whipped my hair. The speed of the skiff almost matched my racing heartbeat. I dug my nails into the cold metal of the ship’s mast, barely feeling the chill that seeped through my gloved fingertips.

  Almost all of the houses now seemed to be under some kind of renovation. Ladders and planks of wood rested against the sides of each house. The beams looked newer than the blackened, weary houses, and most of them had construction equipment on the outsides, leading me to believe that new owners had taken up residence.

  My heart ached at the sight of the neighborhood I lived in for eight happy years. It stopped completely when I saw the one house that mattered more to me than the others.

  “There,” I said, pointing to the far left.

  Sawyer gently swerved around the bend and sailed up the hillside. It had been over ten years since I had last been here, but as we drew closer, it felt like I had never left. I would recognize this house anywhere. The simple two story brownstone house, warm and welcoming. The detached garage where my father stored all of his tools. The open windows to let in the sun and the summer breeze…

  I jumped out of the skiff before Sawyer pulled it to a full stop. My friends shouted my name, but I didn’t listen to them. I was trying to understand how my home had been destroyed. Why the house had a chunk missing from the roof and why the garage was caved in.

  Subconsciously, I knew what had happened to it, but imagining my home was lost and seeing it gone were two different things. I didn’t expect the pain to be so great.

  When I carved out a smidgen of life for Abby and myself, I never sought to go back to our family’s house. I didn’t want to revisit the memories or show her the wreckage of where she was born. I made excuses, lied to myself, concentrated on Abby’s survival. Now I was here, staring at its ruins because I was failing to uphold those grim, naïve promises.

  A hand curled over my shoulder. I glanced back, meeting Riley’s concerned blue eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Claire,” he whispered.

  “I’ll be all right,” I mumbled. A sob lodged in my throat. “I just need a minute.” I looked at the house.

  Sawyer, Nash, and Gemma pulled up beside me, eyeing the house without any emotion.

  “Most of these pretty buildings have probably been looted of all the good stuff,” Gemma commented. “All anyone could do now is hunker down.”

  I whipped my head over to her. “You think the looters are still here?”

  “Sure,” she said innocently. “I would be.”

  “We’ll check it out,” Sawyer said, eying my house warily. He glanced at me. “Don’t suppose I can convince you to stay here?”

  I glared at him. “This is my home.”

  He sighed, then muttered, “Thought not. Can you at least stay close to Riley this time?”

  I nodded.

  “Good, glad that’s settled,” Gemma remarked briskly, shoving her hands under her armpits. “Can we go in now? Some of us are freezing out here.”

  Sawyer took the lead, his hand going inside his coat to take out a flintlock pistol. The silver skull with black gems for eyes gleamed on the butt of the weapon. He held it by his side and stood by the door. Nash and Gemma glanced at the boarded-up windows, then followed him. Nash hovered behind Sawyer, his bulk almost obscuring his commander. I looked up at the house, standing off to the side so I could watch the marauders attempt to get in.

  Sawyer used his free hand to rattle the doorknob. He pushed and pulled, but it didn’t budge.

  “Locked,” said Sawyer. “Gemma?”

  She moved gracefully up the steps, giving Sawyer a sly look. “And to think, you once thought having a thief on your crew was a bad idea.”

  He glared at her as she knelt in front of the doorknob. “What were you just saying about the cold?”