The Rise of Azlyn (Book 4): Planet Urth, no. 4

by Jennifer and Christopher Martucci

  “To speak and say what?” Public speaking, though necessary, is not an activity I enjoy. My palms grow damp and my stomach clenches.

  “Just raise your glass and say something about what you see, about what tonight’s about.” He looks at me with confidence that buoys me.

  I clear my throat and lift my arm out in front of me, willing the trembling hand that clutches the cup to still. A shushing sound sweeps through the room followed by quiet. “Welcome, everyone, to this amazing feast.” A short round of applause echoes. When it dies down, I continue. “Thank you to all of you who worked so hard to make this possible, to those who cooked and decorated. This is more than I ever dreamed possible, this day, this feast, what we’ve accomplished.” Silence so complete I only hear the nervous rhythm of my heart befalls the group. I feel as if I’m addressing a single person, not a room of hundreds. “Moments like these are rare.” I look out among the many faces before me. The majority have never known a single day of peace, much less a celebration. I am among them. “Peace is something I’ve never known,” I admit. “And celebration, well, there hasn’t been much reason to celebrate in my lifetime.” I look to Will, to Riley, Oliver, Tom, and to Sully. My words linger in the air, melancholy, haunting. “Until now,” I say with clarity. The collective mood of the room lifts in an instant. Hope effervesces. “This night, this time in our lives, is different.” A wave of muttered agreements ripples through the crowd. I embrace the momentum. “Tonight, we’ll celebrate peace. We’ll celebrate calm. We’ll celebrate freedom.” Thunderous approval roars through the room, causing the walls and floor to vibrate. I sip from my glass and take a step toward Sully.

  “You know, for someone who worries about what she’ll say, you seem to always find the right words to get this response.” He gestures out among the large group still clapping and cheering.

  I turn to face him then, realizing I’d have to shout to be heard, I lean in close and speak into his ear. His spicy masculine scent surrounds me, makes me want to nuzzle his neck and breathe him in. Resisting the temptation, I say, “I just talk to them, speak the way I would to June, or you.” I pull away to gauge his response.

  He gives me a knowing look, a mixture of pride and appreciation swirling in his molten irises. His hot breath tickles my ear when he bends toward me and says, “You’re honest with them, with yourself. You inspire them and give them hope. They respond to you. They fight and would die for you.”

  “For our cause,” I’m quick to correct him.

  “You are the leader of this cause, the heart of it.” As he straightens, he brushes his knuckles down the side of my cheek and goose bumps race across my skin. Reflexively, my hand raises and settles on his wrist. I’m about to bring it to my lips when the hot press of a gaze bores into my skull. I scan the room and glimpse Will over Sully’s shoulder. Standing against the far wall with Oliver on one side and June and Riley on the other, he watches me. Blue-green eyes, crystalline against bronze skin, penetrate the distance and lock on mine. A small tick lifts the corner of his mouth and his eyes narrow. Is he regarding me with disapproval? It sure looks that way. I freeze. For a moment, a strange jolt burns through me. My cheeks flush and annoyance creeps up my collar. I take an instinctive step forward, fully prepared to march right over to him and demand to know how he has the audacity to sneer at me judgmentally, as if I’m behaving in a manner that warrants reproach, when his features smooth. The edges of lips curve, unearthing a smile.

  “What is it?” Sully asks. I can hear the confusion in his tone.

  Returning my attention to him, I smile and say, “Nothing, just Will was watching us and I thought he was mad but then he smiled.” Hearing myself rattle off a skewed summary of what happened, I realize I’ve made little, if any, sense.

  Sully’s features gather. “Huh? You might want to run that by me again.”

  “Oh, just forget it.” I swat the air in front of me. “Let’s get some food and sit. I want to enjoy this night.” I latch onto his wrist and tug him toward the buffet table. He allows me to lead him and doesn’t ask anything further about Will. Even if he did, I couldn’t really answer with any degree of certainty. Only Will knows what message he sought to covey or what he was thinking. My full trust in him hasn’t been restored yet. I will neither waste time dwelling on the past nor bog myself down trying to analyze his intentions. Not tonight, at least.

  After loading our plates with meat and vegetables and filling our cups with what Sully tells me is wine, we seat ourselves at a table with Oliver, Riley, June, Will, Tom, Arnost and Andris, and Killian. Everyone fills his or her belly while soaking up the joyful mood of the room. Conversations are boisterous. Laughter erupts every few seconds. Food is continually brought in from the square, and warmth that has little to do with the ambient temperature permeates the air. I find myself simply sitting, watching as everyone celebrates. Intermittently, Will’s gaze falls on me. Sensing it, I only glance at him fleetingly. And when I do, sadness that’s tangible shimmers in his eyes. I shift uncomfortably and my leg brushes Sully’s. He reaches beneath the table and wraps his large hand around my hand; giving a gentle squeeze before entwining his fingers with mine and stroking the sensitive skin between my thumb and index finger with his thumb.

  We remain as we are, holding hands and sitting quietly while all around us, the room buzzes. Hours pass like minutes. Before long, June and Riley, exhausted from a night of excitement and overindulging, can barely keep their eyes open. After June yawns for the umpteenth time, I decide our evening has come to an end. Whispering to Sully, I say, “I’m going to get out of here. June’s about to collapse face-first into her plate, and if I don’t get up and move, I won’t fare any better.”

  After a cursory glance at my sister, Sully agrees. “Yeah, she’s done. Let’s walk her home.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that. Stay. Don’t ruin your night because of me.”

  “I’m only happy when I am where you are.” His words, his earnest expression, embrace my heart so fully it feels as if it’s skipped a beat.

  Smiling, I nod. “Okay,” is all I manage, breathless from the rush of emotion storming inside of me.

  Standing, I motion to June. “Come on, June bug. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for bed.”

  She doesn’t protest in the least. To the contrary, she looks relieved. She says good-night to Riley and everyone else at the table then excuses herself. Once innumerable good-byes and pleasant exchanges transpire, the three of us step out of the banquet hall and onto the paved path that leads to our house.

  The sky is a swath of sapphire ornamented with countless stars that appear aquiver with the same excited energy flowing through Cassowary. People still linger in the streets, drinking, eating and chatting amicably. They greet us as we pass. The air is nippy and a stiff wind blows. Though it feels like thousands of needles puncturing my skin at once, it’s a welcome occurrence. Cleansing the air of the vile stench of charred Urthmen, the air is fresher, lighter.

  When we reach the house, June is so tired she plods up the staircase one step at a time then flops onto her bed with her shoes on. “Ugh. I’m too tired to take them off.” She wiggles both feet.

  “Well, lucky for you, I’m not. I’ll take them off for you.” I unlace her shoes and pull them from her feet.

  June crawls up to her pillow and slips beneath her covers. “Good night, Avery. I had a really good time tonight.” She yawns again. “It was nice to feel like I did, you know, just relaxed and . . . happy.” Her heavy eyelids flutter, struggling to stay open.

  “It was, wasn’t it?” I pause for a moment in the doorway, wishing that every day of her life she could feel as she feels today. “Good night, June,” I say just before I leave her.

  Sully leans against the wall in the hallway, his broad shoulders curled forward ever so slightly. “She fell right asleep, right?”

  “Oh I’m sure she’s dreaming already by now.” I smile and shake my head. “She needed tonight. We
all did.” I sigh and make my way to my bedroom.

  “Guess I should get going.” Sully places both hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. He leans forward and plants a soft kiss on my lips.

  He smells of night and firelight, of musk and leather. I don’t want him to go. Not tonight. Not ever.

  A rush of boldness surges from an unknown source. Twisting both fists in the collar of his shirt, I pull him forward and press my lips to his. At first, Sully doesn’t react. But after a moment, he relaxes, his lips melding to mine. “I’d like you to stay,” I say when finally I pull away.

  Sucking in a trembling breath, Sully says, “Okay.”

  I take his hand in mine and lead him inside. Shutting the door and the rest of the world out of our lives for just one night, I want nothing more than to sleep wrapped in the arms of the man I love. And I do.

  After removing our shoes and outer garments, we slip beneath the covers and relax. Nestled with his chest at my back and his arms hooping my waist, I am lulled by the rhythm of his heartbeat. I surrender to fatigue, stripped of my weapon, stripped of fear. Completely content for the first time in my life.

  Chapter 16

  “Excellent!” I shout as I watch a former slave of Cassowary swing his sword with confidence, nearly knocking the weapon from his opponent’s hand as they spar.

  Rearing his head at the sound of my voice, the man loses focus, his eyes roving my way, and is promptly knocked on his backside. Still, tremendous progress has been made.

  “Whoops, I’m sure he’s not feeling too good about that,” Sully says quietly as the man stands and dusts the dirt from the seat of his pants.

  Working to keep the chuckle that longs to escape my mouth to myself, I lower my head and shush Sully. “C’mon, cut it out. Don’t get me started.”

  “What?” Sully spreads his arms with put on innocence. “You gave the guy a compliment and he got knocked to his butt.” Sully smirks and folds his arms across his chest, mischief dancing in his eyes. “I don’t see how that works out to be my fault.”

  “You know what you do.” I try to level a stern gaze his way, but it’s nearly impossible given the fact that he looks so amused.

  “Oh really, and what’s that?” he asks sweetly.

  “You say funny stuff, usually at an inappropriate times, and I start laughing like a loon.”

  “I do no such thing,” he huffs with pretend insult. Then his attention turns back to the man sparring with a soldier, Rich, from the underground city, his demeanor turning serious. “Turn and wave,” he tells me.

  “Huh?” I look to him, perplexed.

  “Just turn and wave. The guy’s doing a great job and approval from his leader is good.”

  “But I thought you just blamed me for—” I start but Sully interrupts.

  Fanning his hand, he says, “Since when do you listen to me? Just wave, please.”

  I do as he suggests and wave at the men sparring. The former slave stops to wave while Rich whacks his weapon from his hand and knocks him to the ground a second time.

  Sully laughs.

  “Oh you’re horrible!” I scold and smack his arm. “I can’t believe you did that!” I’m mad, but probably not as mad as I should be.

  “Ouch!” Sully rubs the spot I struck then chuckles. “I can’t believe you fell for it,” he mumbles. Raising my hand a second time, Sully lifts his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Don’t hit me again.”

  “That was mean,” I grumble and start to walk away from him.

  “C’mon, don’t be mad. I wasn’t trying to be mean.” He grips my upper arm lightly and turns me so that I face him. “I was just fooling around, trying to make you laugh.” Bands of pink streak his cheeks. “I love it when you laugh.” He lowers his voice, his expression suddenly solemn. “I’m sorry.”

  “So you’ll go and apologize to that man?” I thumb over my shoulder toward the men who spar.

  Sully hesitates a moment, his gaze searching my face. “Sure. I mean, if that’s what you want.”

  “He’s the one who got levelled, is he not?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” Sully scratches his chin and says.

  “Then he deserves an apology, right?” I wear a sober expression.

  “I guess he does.” Sully shifts his weight from one leg to the next.

  “He does. And I’ll wait right here while you go do that.” I fold my arms over my chest and await his next move.

  Taking a tentative step backward, he turns to walk toward the grassy patch where the former slave trains with Rich. “Okay, I’ll be right back,” he mumbles and looks utterly perplexed.

  “Stop,” I say and latch onto his wrist. I yank him toward me. “You don’t have to do it. But I’m glad you were willing to.”

  “What’s with the sudden change of heart?” Sully asks, wary of my intentions.

  “No change of heart, really. I’m sure by now Rich’s sparring mate has learned to focus on his opponent and minimize distractions.” I smirk as he did earlier.

  “I see. I’m sure he has.” He bobs his head as an impish expression overtakes his features. “But just so you know, a girl as pretty as you is a tough distraction to ignore.”

  I arch an eyebrow at him.

  “It’s true. You’re beautiful, powerful. How could any man resist looking at you?” His gaze grows heated, his voice low and intimate. He moves closer to me. “I know I can’t.”

  Leaning in so that our breath mingles, I match his tone and mirror his body language. “Well let’s just hope you can if ever there’s a sword cleaving the air toward you.” I smile sweetly.

  Rendered speechless temporarily, Sully’s lips remain parted. But soon he shakes his head and laughs. “Oh man, Avery. That was cold.”

  I smile until my cheeks hurt, proud that I was able to return the favor of thoroughly teasing him. Gripping his face, I pull him toward me and kiss his lips.

  “What was that for?” he asks.

  “No reason.” I shrug.

  Sully simply stares at me for a long moment, his gaze vacillating between my lips and my eyes. He reaches out and takes my hand. “I love you.” His words heat my insides.

  “I love you, too.” My voice is little more than a whisper, but the emotion contained within the few words I’ve spoken echoes with the strength of gale force wind as it howls through the hollows of my being. We gaze at each other for a long moment. The world around me fades. But all too soon, the clatter and clang of swords crossing returns my attention to my surroundings. As if woken from a trance, I shake my head and tell him, “I’d better get back to the house and check on June. I promised her we’d spar. Of course she’ll never see a day of battle if I can help it, but it’s good exercise.”

  “Knowing how to defend herself is a good thing, but I agree with you about the part where she never sees battle.”

  A shiver of unease sweeps up my spine at the thought of June hefting a sword and clashing with Urthmen. “C’mon, let’s go.” I hold Sully’s hand and together, we navigate the side streets.

  As we walk, I reflect on the weeks that have passed since we defeated the Urthmen army and celebrated our first night of true peace. Quiet has dominated. A period of calm has extended from the night of our feast to the present. We’ve used that time wisely. Training those who’d never wielded a sword has been a top priority. After the bodies of fallen enemy soldiers were cleared from the space that spans from our gate to the moat and beyond, training with the former slaves of Cassowary began. Their progress has been marked. But they haven’t been the only among our people here who’ve been busy. Sully, after making two more trips to the underground shelter beneath the military base in Castlerock, has transported the arsenal from there to here. We now have in our possession a formidable stash of weapons. Bullets to make the weapons fully functional are the next order of business. In the days since emptying the armory, Sully has begun experimenting with methods and materials he once employed when using his bullet press in the fallout she
lter. With the help of original residents of Cassowary familiar with machinery, he’s made some headway.

  I think of the advances we’ve made, of the blissful silence our scouts report when they communicate with us, and of the joy I feel just walking with my hand in Sully’s as I stare out beyond the city walls. A robin’s egg-blue sky unfurls before me, stretching infinitely and marred only by translucent, wispy clouds. Inhaling and filling my chest with crisp air, my lungs seize mid-breath, the tolling of our warning bell grasping them in an ironclad grip.

  Sully’s head whips around. His deep-brown eyes lock on mine. His features are etched in horror. For a moment, we freeze, immobilized by fear. A second doleful chime resounds, sending a numbing chill that radiates from my chest and down my limbs.

  “What’s happening?” Sully’s voice echoes beside me and sets my body into motion.

  “Oh no. Oh my gosh.” My voice is a breathy whisper as my legs twitch to life and take off toward the spiral staircase.

  Pumping my arms as I run, frosty wind lashes my face, tossing my hair behind me. My heart thrashes my ribcage, and a single question spins through my brain unendingly: Why? Why is the bell ringing? Thus far, it hasn’t rung for a welcome visitor, only those who seek to destroy the delicate balance in place within the walled city.

  Bounding up the steps two at a time, I reach the top of the wall, winded from exertion and anxiety and with a stitch of pain in my side. “What is it? Who’s here?” My voice is strong, far stronger than I feel.

  Killian, glowering down at what appears to be a car with a white flag protruding from the window, says, “I don’t know, but I have a bad feeling about this one.” He grinds out each word, his brow low and his eyes narrowed to slashes.

  Movement near the side of the car sets off a series of clicks and snaps, the sound of arrows being readied in stretched bowstrings. The glare from the sun overhead in the slanted windshield prevents me from seeing who, exactly, is inside the vehicle. The passenger side door opens and a shoe, black and polished to a high shine, slips from it, followed by a long leg clad in a rich dark fabric that brings to mind President Sullivan.