“I don’t like the idea of splitting up,” I say. “If they separate and corner us, we’re done for. We need to stick together unless we have no other choice.”
We continue to talk strategy for a while, but when no one comes up with anything substantial, everyone drifts off into their own thoughts. The very probable presence of Gabriel or his power crystals limits us greatly.
“I’ll take first watch,” Jay says when the silence has become too thick. “The rest of you get some sleep. We’re heading out first thing in the morning.”
I wait with him as the others drift off to their sleeping bags, Al and Erik likewise remaining. Fiona glances back at me, but doesn’t linger. When I listen in on her thoughts, there’s nothing in particular she wants to say, so I don’t call out to her.
When it’s just our team, I say, “What are you all thinking?”
“Can’t you tell?” Erik asks, but for once, not meanly.
“Using my gift and asking you are different.”
Jay smiles slightly. It doesn’t reach the rest of his face. “I’m not sure what there is to say that isn’t already obvious. I’m anxious. And more terrified than I’ve ever been in my life.”
“Because you might die?” Erik asks.
“Because I might lose the people I’ve come to think of as family.” Silence greets Jay’s words, but he doesn’t hesitate before going on. “I was so worried when this team was first thrown together. I thought it would never work. I never considered that I might come to think of you all as more than fellow soldiers.” His eyes fall and his voice lowers. “But it’s not like that now. We might fight and bicker a lot, but we’re always all still together in the end. Knowing that you three are here with me is more comforting than I would’ve ever imagined possible.”
Quiet fills the space his words left behind.
Across the fire, Al’s eyes find mine.
I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything sooner, I say telepathically. Surprise registers on her face at the sound of my voice in her head, but I go on. And that I used your secret against you. And didn’t respect your privacy. And, well, everything else.
I’m still mad.
My eyes fall.
But I also don’t want to go into this without having made up.
When my eyes rise to meet hers, both her thoughts and expression are sincere.
You’re still my best friend, and yeah, I’m pissed you blackmailed me and mad you didn’t trust me sooner, but I can kind of get it, too. I don’t like fighting with you. So let’s stop.
Sounds good to me.
We both smile, and while I know there’s still hurt and unease in Al’s thoughts, I also know she’d rather be friends than let those emotions win out.
“Me too,” I say aloud in response to Jay’s confession. “I never thought I’d end up sharing so much with you guys, let alone wanting to share so much with you. I … don’t trust people easily. For me to trust all of you is…”
I don’t know how to finish what I was saying, or even what I was trying to say to begin with. But they seem to understand even though I don’t. Something feels stuck in the back of my throat when I look at all of them, faces lit by Al’s unnaturally bright fire. When did this odd collection of outcasts become so important to me?
“I don’t trust people at all,” Erik says. He tries to say it lightly, but even he falters. “I definitely never thought I’d end up trusting any of you. When this team first started out, I thought you were all just annoying. Secretive. Controlling. Not that I don’t still think that,” Erik adds, trying to get things back under control, “but I don’t think it as much anymore.”
That’s as good as a confession of friendship as anyone is ever going to get out of Erik. And the funny thing is, we’re all familiar enough with one another now to recognize that. And it’s fine. It’s great to even get that much, to know he does care. To know we all care.
“Yeah, well, I know I can be difficult sometimes,” Al says.
“And proud,” Erik says.
“Blunt,” I add.
“Stubborn,” Jay says.
Al half glares, half smirks at all of us as she waves our words away. “But you all still stuck around and even became friends with me. I trust you guys to watch my back—and that’s not something I ever even thought I needed someone to do.”
“It’s something everyone needs,” Jay says quietly. “And now we all have it.”
We sit there in silence for a while, each of us knowing it might be the last time we’ll all be together. And when I gaze up through the never-ending trees, I like to think, impossibly, that I can see the stars on the other side.
28
LAI
WE COME WITHIN sight of the meeting place around noon the next day. Even from a distance, the outline of turrets and lopsided skyscrapers is all too clear, the jagged, glittering rim encircling it all hard to miss. A shattered dome, destroyed in some war between sectors over resources. Even though I can’t make out any details across the dry desert plain stretching before us, I shudder at the sight. An abandoned sector is not a place I would ever willingly choose to visit.
We slow our bycs and pass in silence through a giant gap in the fragmented glass dome, so much of which is gone that it now looks like a child stuck shards of glass around the buildings in a poor reconstruction of a picket fence. The buildings’ exteriors have all faded to gray, most with long fissures running the length of them. Almost all the windows are shattered. Everything is dead.
The road beneath us is spider-webbed with cracks, heaving upward in some places and leaving huge gaps in others. Blackened roots twist through the cement, as thick around as my entire body, even though there are no trees or plants in sight. Dozens of collapsed buildings litter the street. Scattered bones and claw marks hint that Ferals have taken a liking to the place.
Empty husks of once-grand buildings watch our silent procession. The granite sky, an unusually subdued color, makes them appear eerily beautiful. Far ahead of us, I can see a tall spire rising from the center of the sector. The place where we agreed to meet the rebels. Even from here, I can see the hollowed-out crevices where parts of the spire have fallen away.
Once we reach the area, those gaping holes become even more apparent, marking the spire like knife wounds. We’re in what might have once been some sort of town square. Dusty mosaics spread out around us, and off to the side sits a crippled fountain with so many splintering cracks it’s a wonder the thing is still standing.
Four people are atop the short set of stairs leading up to the spire, two girls and two boys. One of them I recognize as Devin, the violence-crazed rebel who attacked me on our last mission, currently pacing across the top step. Another is Ice Eyes from our first mission, leaning against the rusted handrail. The boy sitting on one of the upper steps, I’ve never seen before. He has a small, lean build, bronze-toned skin, and messy black hair. His gaze instantly locks on to Erik with such intensity that he must know the corporal. The odds of Erik not having been associated with the rebels are quickly decreasing.
And then there’s Ellis. Her long, tumbling blond hair shines in the dull sunlight. Her tall frame leans deceptively languidly against the railing behind her as she reads a small journal. When she straightens, she moves like a cat. Slowly. Deliberately. Her pale jade eyes flick over each of us as we dismount from our bycs before they finally come to rest on me.
The sight of Ellis makes my heart sick, and much as I try to ignore the unwanted emotions flooding into me, this time, I can’t. Not with her.
“Good afternoon, Lai.” She says it quietly, but her words carry through the dead space. “It’s been a while. You never answer my messengers.”
“I don’t take to consorting with the enemy,” I say when all eyes fall on me.
Almost all of them. Paul steps out from his place beside Fiona, mouth working without making a sound. He finally manages to say, “Joan?”
Ice Eyes looks up from her feet and blinks. Blin
ks again, like she’s trying to see something else. “Paul?” she whispers. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing over there?” Paul’s voice is strained. He takes a half step forward, but Peter catches his arm to prevent him going any farther. “Please tell me you’re not actually with the rebels.”
She stands up. Something flashes in her eyes, some kind of conflicting hurt I can’t read. It doesn’t help that I can’t hear her or any of the other rebels’ thoughts. “So what if I am? Is it so wrong to want a world where Nytes can live without fear? Without having to always look over their shoulder to make sure an Etiole isn’t about to stab them in the back?”
Paul looks at her like he doesn’t know who she is. “You would kill tens of thousands of innocents for that?”
She doesn’t answer. She won’t meet his eyes, either. I have no idea what must be going through Paul’s head right now, nor any desire to pry and find out, but based on how he always talked about Joan at our meetings and the look on his face now, I can’t begin to imagine his hurt.
But Paul isn’t the only one whose focus is locked on Joan. Erik is staring at her with an intense look of resigned confirmation. She’s that girl from the one memory I have. The one who said the night is approaching.
My stomach turns, but even though Erik recognizes Ice Eyes, he doesn’t seem to have any desire to even speak with her. He’d been holding on to that memory for so long, and now, for him to find out the girl in it is a rebel—that it almost certainly confirms he was a rebel—is a heavy blow.
Before he can fully process that, though, Ellis turns her attention to him. “Erik, we’re finally able to meet again!” She gives a happy little clap of her hands.
Erik slowly lifts his head to face her. “What are you talking about?” But by now, he knows that what he’s suspected for weeks is true. He just has to hear it.
Ellis smiles warmly, like she’s greeting an old friend rather than an enemy. It’s a look I know well. It sends a knife through my rib cage. “I almost forgot. You lost your memories, didn’t you? It took Cal forever to find you, and for us to figure out what happened.” The messy-haired boy still sitting on the stairs looks up and meets Erik’s eyes. He gives a weak sort of smile, like he’s unsure of how it will be received, but Erik just stares at him blankly. “You can imagine our distress when you didn’t come back. No one knew what happened to you. You just disappeared.”
Erik winces as everyone turns to stare at him. Many of the gazes on him are ones of suspicion. Al’s incredulity burns so strongly I feel it secondhand.
“I think you’re going to have to be a little clearer there,” Erik says. Amazingly, he manages to keep his usual carefree tone. But his thoughts are a jumbled mess of misery. I wish I could reach out to him telepathically for support, but he probably needs all the headspace he has for himself.
Ellis considers him with something close to sympathy. “Erik, you’re my right-hand man. About five months ago, you went missing after a raid on Sector Eight.”
Static ripples through the air.
Erik, Ellis’s second-in-command? I had considered the possibility he’d been a rebel likely, but that he was ranked that high up?
Now everyone is watching him warily, which probably isn’t helping his newfound anxiety. Fiona and Syon, who hadn’t known about his missing memories, are openly staring at him. Al is no better than a statue. Jay and Paul are the only ones who keep their focus trained on the rebels ahead of us, while Peter looks back and forth, uncertain of who he needs to concentrate on more.
“You expect me to just believe that?” Erik asks Ellis. He gives every appearance of ignoring the change in our group. “How do I know you didn’t just find out about my memory loss and decide to play that to your advantage? An easy way to try and get someone over to your side.”
“Oh, Erik,” Ellis says fondly. “I’m glad to see you’re as distrustful as ever. But I’m not lying. Some months ago, you were leading a raid against Sector Eight. But the military was expecting you. They ambushed you and your team was forced to retreat. Only, you didn’t return. We thought you were dead.” Her eyes flick to the ground and then back up once more. “Then some of our people found you in the military. They said they approached you and tried to talk to you, but you didn’t recognize them. After that, they dug around until they found out you’d forgotten everything.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Erik says. “If I really was ambushed by the military, then they would’ve known I was a rebel. Why would they take me in?”
“To use you.” The way in which she says it, without any hesitation, sends a chill down my spine. “The military is more dangerous than you realize, Erik. Do not think for even a second that they’re on your side. They’re only waiting until your usefulness is up to stab you in the back.”
“That’s still not proof I was ever on your side,” Erik says after the barest pause. But Ellis’s words got to him—got to even Al and Jay, whose thoughts churn uneasily. Al is still struggling to process what’s happening with Erik. Jay is trying to figure out if he should interrupt to attempt negotiations or let them continue. But he knows Erik has been searching for anything to do with his past. He can sense Erik’s intensity right now.
Fiona and the others make no move to intervene, silently choosing to follow whatever my lead is.
Maybe if I hadn’t spent so much time in Erik’s head, and maybe if we hadn’t talked at such length about his past and the few hints we had about it, I’d be more suspicious of Erik right now. But I’m not. His thoughts are distressed. He’s trying so hard to reject the truth. He doesn’t want to be a part of them—he doesn’t even want to have ever been associated with them.
But Ellis only smiles. She tosses him the journal she was reading when we all arrived and Erik catches it reflexively. He warily looks between it and her, and she waves for him to examine it.
He flicks between the pages, skeptically at first, but then with slowly dawning recognition. And from where I stand, now I can see that it’s not a journal but a sketchbook. Filled to the brim with sketches and messy scrawls.
“You always were into drawing and building,” Ellis says. “Since long before we met. I’m glad that, at least, hasn’t changed. That was your last sketchbook. There are more back at our base, along with your models. You were there, Erik. You were our friend. My friend.”
Erik can’t seem to tear his eyes from the sketchbook in his hands. This is the first time my past has actually felt real. I want to know more. Do they know about my family? What was I doing before I joined the rebels?
The strength with which he thinks these questions is alarming. He wouldn’t join the rebels now as a way to learn more about his past, would he?
I finally force my way into his thoughts. What do you want to do?
Erik’s eyes jerk around to meet mine, and he knows I’m suspicious. It snaps him out of his obsessive fervor.
He turns back to Ellis. “That was then. I’m not one of you anymore, and no matter what you say, I’m not going back.”
Relief floods through me—and through Jay’s thoughts. He could sense Erik’s intense fascination as well.
But by the way Ellis contemplates Erik, I can’t help but feel she noticed it, too. “No,” she says, unperturbed. “There will come a day when you can’t stand not knowing anymore and you will come searching for me. You’re nearly there already. I’ll wait for you, Erik. When you’re ready, just look close to home for how to contact me.”
Erik doesn’t say anything.
In the pause, Jay steps forward. “Ms. Ellis. We have come on behalf of the military of Sector Eight in order to—”
“My offer still stands for you, too, you know,” Ellis says. When I pry my eyes away from Erik, it’s to find Ellis staring as intently at me now as she did that day she walked away from everything. “I do so hate the thought of us having to be enemies.”
“You should have thought of that before you left.” I try to keep my v
oice cool. Unconcerned. I don’t know if it works.
Ellis considers me. Sighs. “I did. But I always thought you’d see the truth on your own one day and come find me. Sadly, I see that has yet to happen.”
“Lai, do you know this person?” Al asks tightly. Her hands are clenched into fists at her sides, already dangerously close to her limit after everything with Erik.
It’s hard to get the words out. “Before she left the military to found the rebels, we were officers together.”
That’s why she knew so much about Ellis’s gift. I should’ve guessed they knew each other.
Ellis gives a bow with a little twirl of her hand, still maintaining eye contact with me. “It’s been a while since anyone spoke of my time in the military. Do you miss me?”
I open my mouth, and for a split second, I worry the words that come out will be, “Every day.” Instead, I say, “Only the old you.”
“I see,” Ellis says. When her eyes leave me, both relief and disappointment fill me. “Well, well, if it isn’t Fiona. And you even brought Syon and the twins. How have you been? Still a control freak?” Despite her sarcasm, I think I hear sadness laced through her words.
“What are your conditions for a truce?” Fiona asks, ignoring her.
Ellis seems surprised by the question. “Truce? You didn’t actually believe that, did you? I thought you, at least, would’ve known better, Lai.”
“I did,” I say through gritted teeth. “We all did.”
“And the almighty High Council sent you anyway, didn’t they?” Ellis says. “Didn’t I tell you? Why can’t you see it? They’re just using you—using all of you. They sent all of you out here even though they knew it was a trap because they hoped you’d at least be able to make a dent in our forces. Pitiful.”
I catch Jay’s eye. Even for Ellis, she seems awfully indifferent about saying to our faces this was all a setup. We can’t use our gifts on these four, either, which means there could be more rebels hidden nearby. They really do have Gabriel’s power crystals. He really did betray us. But I have more pressing matters to worry about now.
A Soldier and a Liar Page 26