Lanterns In The Sky

by P. S. Malcolm

  Slowly swinging out of bed, I noticed that Valarie had already gotten up. The two of us had passed out as soon as we got to my room.

  Looking out the window, I could still see the cracks in the sky above the mountain range in the distance, glinting lilac in the sunlight. A shiver went down my spine. They already looked bigger.

  The painkillers were starting to wear off, and as I dragged myself to the bathroom, I finally got a good look at myself in the mirror.

  My blonde hair was full of dirt and grease, and my clothes were still grey. My right eye was swollen purple and red, and dried blood was everywhere on my face.

  I didn't have the strength for a shower, so instead I ran a hot, steaming bath. I added my favourite soaps to the water, watching as it frothed up with tiny, bouncing bubbles. It felt so good to slip into the water and soak off all the grime from the past few days. I gently washed my hair—which was harder with just one functional hand—and when I was done, I stepped out, cloaking myself in a fluffy white towel.

  I looked somewhat better, save for the purple bruises that remained all over me—evidence of our battle.

  Back in my room, I dressed warmly and was just brushing out my damp hair when a knock sounded at the door.

  "Come in."

  The door opened, and to my disappointment, Jason hesitantly poked his head in.

  "What?” I asked, my voice steely.

  He held up a first aid kit—the same one he'd bought the night Andrew came to the warehouse.

  "Andrew suggested that I tend to your wounds."

  I turned up my nose.

  "I'd rather be seen by a professional doctor,” I told him, hoping he'd leave. But he didn't; instead, he crossed the room and sat on the end of my bed.

  "That's… not going to be possible,” he said slowly. Something twisted in my gut, and I spun around to face him.

  "What do you mean?” I pressed.

  "I'll explain later. But we need to get you patched up, and this is your only other option now."

  I folded my arms, eyes wide with suspicion.

  "I am not letting you near me. There's no way you can fix my injuries! You're too—"

  I almost called him normal, but that would have been so far from the truth, it wasn’t funny. Jason was anything but normal.

  As if sensing what I'd been about to say, he gave me a pointed look.

  "I've been around long enough to tend a few injuries,” he said dryly. "I bet that nose is bothering you—I can snap it back into place, at the very least."

  I shuddered at the thought. Even thinking of a professional doing that gave me chills. He tilted his head as he examined my eyes, which sent another chill up my spine.

  But it was a different kind of chill.

  "You didn't even wash your face properly,” he noted with a quirked eyebrow.

  I glared at him. It had obviously been too swollen and sore to touch.

  "Get out,” I told him sharply. But he shook his head, rummaging through his kit until he found what he was after: some kind of disinfectant and a packet of cotton buds.

  "Come here,” he ordered. But not in a controlling way—in more of a knowing way. Like he knew my nose felt like a sledgehammer pounding into my sinuses, and I'd accept his help just to stop the constant throbbing. His eyes were determined, and reluctantly, I obliged. As I approached, he shuffled aside to make room for me. I could feel his proximity, his body heat against my arm as he twisted around to face me.

  His movements were careful and slow as he dabbed at the swelling, and I was thankful. The disinfectant stung a little as he cleared the dirt from the little crevices I'd missed. But it was bearable somehow. His green eyes were so focused, and it was strange to see the determination in them as he worked. I mentally shook my head. Snap out of it!

  "What happened to you after we left the warehouse?” I asked, hoping to distract myself from my thoughts. His mouth twitched a little, like he wanted to frown but was too distracted.

  "I found Chrissy… but in order to gain her trust, I had to give her your location at the observatory."

  Anger flared through me. Because of him spilling my whereabouts, they'd broken my damn wrist! But he continued before I could scold him for it.

  "I warned Andrew about it beforehand. Once they confirmed you were there, they told me where Valarie was, which I also relayed to Andrew. But it was a trap."

  He pulled up the cuff of his jacket and revealed his own arm, wrapped in a bandage. In the midst of everything, I hadn't even noticed Jason's wounds. I mean, we were all pretty banged up from fighting Chrissy and Devian.

  "Kale made a trap that we walked straight into. It's why we took so long to get to you guys… and it was their way of testing my loyalty. Of course, they knew immediately after I'd walked into the trap that I'd turned on them. But luckily, Walter got us out. He just happened to be looking for you."

  His eyes met mine, and I realized there was a small hint of appreciation in them.

  "If you hadn't escaped, he would have stayed there with you, and we probably would have died. And then Valarie… the things they'd have done to her to spite my betrayal…"

  I could see his gratitude in his eyes, hear it in his voice.

  "How did it go with Valarie?” I asked, deciding to change the subject. "Have you talked to her yet?"

  He raised an eyebrow.

  "I didn't think you cared for our relationship."

  "I care about her,” I replied smoothly, knowing that would be answer enough. Her, not him. If my words bothered him, he didn't show it.

  "She doesn't know,” he told me, his eyes averting to his hands as he brushed the disinfectant off. "About her past, I mean. She doesn't know who I am, or what I was to her."

  Something inside of me was relieved. If she didn't know, she wouldn't be as persuaded to go back to him. Or to him at all, for that matter.

  "Are you going to tell her?” I asked, genuinely curious. He was silent for a moment. And then—"I don't know."

  Another wave of relief… but also annoyance. He'd done so much, yet he wasn't going to tell her?

  "Hold still,” Jason said, his fingers pinching my nose. I yelped in pain, my hand flying to his wrist to stop him.

  "That hurts!” I barked, tears stinging my eyes. His gaze softened a little, and he extended his other hand.

  "Here."

  "What?” I said, blinking, which resulted in a long exhale from him.

  "Hold my hand. You can squeeze it against the pain."

  A flurry of confused emotions went through me. He eyed me, waiting for me to make my choice, knowing fully well what I thought of him. But despite that, I reached out and curled my fingers around his palm.

  I was holding his hand. The hand of a lying murderer. And yet…

  "On the count of three,” he said, readying his fingers against my nose. "One… two…"

  Crack!

  My hand clenched around his, and I cried out in pain, squeezing my eyes shut. But as quickly as it had begun, it was over, and only a numb ache remained.

  "There,” Jason said, stepping back to examine it.

  I launched up from the bed and spun to face my mirror. To my relief, my nose looked fine. Better than fine, considering what it had looked like five minutes ago.

  "How did you learn to do that?” I asked, gently touching the tip of my nose to check it was indeed intact. It was still tender, but it was in the right place. Jason shrugged as he packed up his first aid kit and grabbed the bag's handle, preparing to leave.

  "We learned a lot of things in military training.”

  That's right… back when he'd been in our army.

  "You should cover that thing up, by the way,” Jason said, nodding towards the mirror, and then I remembered what he'd told me about Chrissy.

  "Oh, of course,” I said, and reached out to grab a throw rug from my chair. I draped it over the mirror, then stepped back to make sure it had been completely covered.

  He headed for the door. "You
might want to come downstairs. A few things have happened."

  I frowned, fear slicing through me.

  "Like what?” I asked, but he shook his head.

  "It's better if you see it,” he replied, avoiding my gaze, before heading to the door.

  "Wait!” I said, my cheeks burning with embarrassment from how harsh I'd been earlier. I swallowed hard, forcing my pride to subside. I was stubborn, but I wasn't a complete bitch. Or at least, I tried hard not to be.

  "Thank you. I mean it."

  The smallest smile appeared.

  "It's fine,” he replied softly. Then, a little hesitantly, "I've come to realize I like you better with your head."

  Then, he turned and walked out.

  * * *

  I joined everyone downstairs ten minutes later, when I'd finished freshening up. For the first time in days, I felt like myself again.

  There was a pile of suitcases and bags by the door. I frowned at the sight, but didn't spend much time pondering it. As I passed by the lounge room, I spotted Irma, Walter, Skye, and the angel talking lowly among themselves. Continuing on, I found everyone else in the kitchen, gathered around the tiny television that hung above the fridge. We usually only used it in the mornings, but things had changed.

  I noticed the dirty plates stacked messily around the sink, and all the food that lay out idly. I'd never seen our house so chaotic. It was as if my parents had been glued to the TV screen for hours—possibly all night, judging from the circles under their eyes.

  Valarie and Andrew were perched on stools beside my parents. Jason leaned against the wall in the corner, and Kyra sat opposite everyone. When Mum saw me, she immediately snatched up the TV remote and muted it before coming over to see how I was.

  "Oh, honey…” she breathed, looking over me the same way she had last night. Like I was some rare, lost object she'd just recovered.

  "Can I get you some food?” she asked me. My stomach growled in response, and my cheeks flushed.

  "I can get my own food,” I said, offering her a strong smile. But she fussed over me, brushing my hair out of my eyes and giving me a firm look.

  "Sit down; I'll make you a croissant. With ham and cheese, just the way you like it,” she ordered. She then turned to Dad and added, "Turn off that TV, Tony."

  "Why?” he replied with a cocked eyebrow. Kyra was eyeing the two of them nervously, and Mum's stance tensed.

  "Tony,” she said sternly, and a shiver went through me. My parents never spoke to each other this way unless something was seriously wrong. My dad was still bewildered, and Mum crossed over to him, murmuring, "She's not ready to see all of that!"

  I frowned, anger bubbling inside of me.

  "See what?” I demanded, feeling annoyed that they were excluding me. Treating me like I might break.

  "For crying out loud, Rachel, she's going to find out soon enough!” Dad cried, throwing his hands up exasperatedly. "All she has to do is look outside!"

  My chest constricted. What was outside? I crossed to the kitchen window, where the curtains had been drawn. My mum protested, but I ignored her, throwing the curtains open.

  My knees buckled.

  There was smoke coming from the city centre. Fires. Helicopters were flying through the sky, and all I could do was stare with my mouth hanging open.

  My mum appeared at my side and snapped the curtains shut once more.

  "Come away from there,” she murmured, pulling me back. But the vision was burned into my mind. I glanced at the TV and saw it up close: crowds of people screaming, trying to get away. But there were taller, stronger people directing them, forcing them to kneel before them.

  "What's happening?” I demanded. Andrew, with his grim, blank expression, spoke.

  "The void to Urenphia has opened. They're storming the cities,” he explained. "We're ready to leave, but we wanted to make sure you got enough rest first. You've been through a lot."

  "We're leaving?” I asked, my disbelief lingering in the air.

  "Well, we can't stay here,” Kyra pointed out.

  I glanced at Valarie. "What about your mother?"

  She shook her head. "She already knows. I filled her in earlier, and she's packing as we speak. She'll be here soon to join us."

  My eyes focused on Andrew, filled with disappointment. "You're really giving up? After everything we've done?"

  Andrew gave me a pointed look.

  "What else can we do?” he shot back. "The barrier's broken, Lucy. I swore a vow to protect humankind, and I failed. The least I can do now is make sure that you lot are safe—as such, your family is under my sworn protection."

  "Andrew,” I seethed, stepping towards him. "This is my fault. I can't just let this happen—"

  "Nobody blames you, Lucy,” Valarie piped up. "We all messed up somehow. It was stupid to think we could outsmart them—they were always one step ahead."

  I shook my head, refusing to accept this.

  "You told me there were angels!” I insisted, grasping at straws. I remembered the angels—they were part of our army, back then. There were heaps of them! "Surely they're not all dead. Their power was keeping the Starlight Barrier lit!"

  "The angels are not strong enough,” Andrew replied firmly, his knuckles gripping the countertop so tight they were turning white.

  "Then we'll fight back! We'll raise an army—"

  "Don't you get it?” he snapped, his hand slamming down on the countertop as he sprung from his seat. "The Urenphians are stronger than us! There are thousands of them, and they have something we don't!"

  "Which is?” I pressed.

  "A God."

  I blinked, taken aback. "A… God?"

  Andrew sighed and slumped back down.

  "It's a long, complicated story,” he said slowly. "But to put it simply, there are two universes. There's Urenphia, which is Shade's Realm. And then there's our universe, which is Titania's Realm."

  The words flickered in my head. They were familiar, and I recalled them from my spells.

  "In the midst of this war, back when all of this started, our creator, Titania, was killed by Shade. This caused the conflict that separated Urenphians from us for years—and it's yet another reason why the rebellion was frowned upon by so many. The union of Urenphians and Starlighters was taboo—disrespectful to our goddess and her spilt blood."

  "And Shade's still alive?” I asked quietly. Andrew's eyes were hauntingly severe.

  "Oh, he's alive,” he promised. "Well and truly; in fact, he's the leader of Urenphia as a whole. He never appointed other leaders or rulers. He simply insisted that nobody could do a better job than him, and as such, he's had immortal rule over that world for its entire existence. Nobody over there has ever known any different than what he's crafted them to become. He's quite literally their entire world, and they worship him."

  "So much that they'd do anything for him,” I realized as it sank in. "They'd harm, maim, and kill… they'd slaughter us so that he can finally expand his territory and claim our universe."

  "And he's already started,” Andrew said darkly, eyeing the crowds on the TV as they were forced into organized groups. "He'll keep the faithful ones—probably make them into Chards. The rest might as well be dead to him."

  "And we can't stop him,” Kyra whispered, her eyes glued to the screen with devastation. "Nobody's stronger than a God."

  Her words hit me hard. I remembered Andrew once telling me that Starlighters were stronger than Urenphians, but they were all dead. And yet, I was here. And Valarie was too. Two of us against an entire universe of enemies, and yet… there was a flicker of hope still burning in my heart.

  My Starlight Barrier had held Shade at bay for millennia. Who was to say I couldn't do it again, even if it wasn't a barrier, but something more permanent? What if Valarie and I were able to combine our power somehow?

  But of course, that would require awakening her power and memories, and I wasn't even sure if she had them. Plus, I had no idea how we'd do it.
Did she have a celestial lantern of some kind?

  I noticed the way Jason watched her, his eyes full of longing… but also contented happiness. Did he ever want her to remember him? Probably not, for fear that she might refuse his love forever after what he did.

  I almost felt bad for him. Almost.

  "Andrew,” I said, dropping my defensive tone and filling it with urgency. "Does Adrina have a celestial lantern?"

  Jason's eyes bulged out of his head. He threw me a warning glance, but I ignored him.

  Andrew frowned. "I doubt it. The celestial lantern was part of the spell that you cast, and it was intended so that you could finish what you started."

  "Well, is there another way to bring back her power and memories?” I asked. Valarie was eyeing us with a frown, much like the rest of my family. She didn't have the faintest idea that I was talking about her.

  "Why?” Andrew asked, and in the corner of my eye, I noticed Jason motioning with his hand, warning me not to say it.

  I ignored him.

  "Because Adrina was the true heir,” I said. Jason groaned, burying his face in his hands. I continued to ignore him.

  "That's impossible,” Andrew said sharply, narrowing his eyes.

  "Who's Adrina?” Valarie asked, frowning, but nobody answered her.

  "It's true,” I insisted to Andrew. "As the heir, she would have as much, if not more power than me. If we could combine it somehow…"

  "Your power won't challenge a God's power,” Andrew said firmly.

  I glared at him. "Maybe not, but if we could fight off the Urenphians, he wouldn't have anyone to follow him. What good would his power be then?"

  Andrew hesitated, thinking it over.

  "Think about it,” I added. "It happened once before—nobody was loyal to the Urenphians the last time. The kingdom crumbled under their rule."

  "Yes, but this time, they're not taking over a kingdom,” Andrew replied slowly. "They're infiltrating the entire universe. They're bringing their kingdom, which is already fully established, and replacing everything your people have built."

  "He's right,” Kyra added, surprising me. "I've been watching it unfold—you have no established influence, no hold over the people. Why would they follow a seventeen-year-old girl who claims to be an ancient princess, even if you showed them your power?"