Crown of Ashes

by Addison Moore

  “Tobie,” I choke out her name as I inch closer, but a rattle from farther down the room captures my attention, and I spot another set of tiny hands wailing against a glass enclosure of their own. I recognize that tiny blonde head of hair pitching wildly about before sitting down and weeping without a thread of hope. And then she sees me.

  “Ma Ma!” she wails, pounding the glass, crying, hitting her head against the wall in sheer panic.

  “Oh my God.” I take a deep breath and rise to my feet. The smoke grows ever so thick, and in a moment, I’ll lose sight of them. The girls are each an equal distance away, fifty feet in either direction at least. I need to go left or right, Tobie or Angel. The three of us have seconds of air left. I need to get one now before they both perish, but my God, how will I ever save both? Horrifically, I realize there is only hope for one.

  Red, angry flames shoot in and race across the ceiling as if the facility were doused with flammables—as if the fire itself were taunting me to choose.

  “Angel,” I call out and choke myself back down to the floor. I suck in another lungful and bounce to my feet. Left or right. Chloe or Skyla. Tobie or Angel. God help me, I’ve ensnared myself in paralysis by analysis.

  Shitshitshit!

  And just like that, the room is white with a smoke so thick it sits over you like a blanket. Robed in white—I can’t tell which way is up—which way is Tobie, which way is Angel. But my gut knows. I know the path to them both. The fire swirls and roars, and the smoke clears enough to create one last visual of the room.

  Time seems to still as I look to Tobie with her desperate pleading—no mother would come to rescue her. I look to Angel, my Angel, my flesh and my bones, my love child with Logan. She has the very breath of God in her miraculous lungs before the union of her parents ever came to be. She is so very loved, so very wanted. She is a light to this aching wet world. She owns my heart. She owns Logan’s. I’m sure she is so very vital to the Factions, to humanity, to my mother. And that’s when I know what I have to do. I glance over to Angel as she screams Ma Ma through anguished tears, her face wrinkled in horror as she begins to gag and thrash. But my feet drift in the opposite direction. In a burst of fury and rage, with a wild scream locked in my throat, I burst through the door penning in Tobie and scoop her scorching, bucking body in close to mine. Tears stream down my face, hot and heavy, as the flames race to the other side of the room, Angel’s cries roaring wild like that of cat in agony. And in a moment, the room lights up ethereal blue. A violet shadow in the familiar shape of my mother swoops toward my baby, and just like that, Angel and Candace Messenger are no more. My chest bucks with pain as I press my lips together to keep from crying out. I wrap myself around Tobie with all my strength and get the hell out of there. I chose the girl that nobody would have come for, and in doing so I lost my daughter—perhaps forever.

  The room floods with flames as we make our way to the narrow door, the smoke too thick to see through. I land us both on the floor and grope for walls, for something familiar that might lead us out of this hell in the right direction. But soon, I’m left groping at nothing but air, the smoke crushing down to the floor, the heat too hot to bear. My lungs ache as I struggle for my next breath, and Tobie claws at my chest as if doing the same. My body bucks as my lungs seize. This is it. I’ve done this to myself with those wasted moments of indecision, and now both Tobie and I will die. The flames circle around me, the smoke lies over us like a casket as my last breath leaves my lungs.

  And then like a dream, a light shines over me, a body lands softly over mine, over Tobie, and the room melts away to nothing.

  On a good day, Tenebrous smells like the armpit of a sweaty wrestler, but this day, this moment, Tenebrous is delivering the sweetest perfume—air, sweet, albeit pungent air.

  Tobie sucks in such a violent breath, and it sounds like a whistle. Her little body grows rigid before loosening as a wailing cry extinguishes from her lungs.

  “Tobie!” Wesley roars, wasting no time in snatching her from my arms, and I can’t blame him. I would have done the same if the roles, the children, were reversed. “Shit,” he pants over her as he peppers her with kisses. “Thank you, Skyla. My God, thank you.” He pulls me into a hard embrace, his face buried in my neck a moment, and it’s an odd feeling, considering this is Tenebrous, the very location Wesley drained me of my blood to strengthen his powers not so long ago. That’s the only reprieve we’ve been given in this new war. Celestra blood isn’t in demand the way it used to be. Thankfully.

  “You’re welcome.” I look past him as Gage carefully extracts me and pulls me back into the safety of his arms where I belong—where I’ve always belonged and always will. “And thank you for saving me—all of us.” I glance past him at the dead reunited, sharing their war stories as a badge of honor. There is laughter and joy and not one ounce of pain, and my heart is full again.

  Logan comes up fast with his face piqued with color, his eyes rife with worry. “Where is she?”

  “Logan.” I shake my head. “I’m so sorry.” I close my eyes a moment before looking to Tobie as she smiles up at her father. The love in Wesley’s eyes lets me know I made the right decision. I tell Logan and Gage what happened, reducing those terrible agonizing moments into less than a couple of simple sentences.

  “Come here.” Logan wraps his arms around me in love. “I’m sorry you had to make a decision like that.” He pulls back, holding me steady by the shoulders. “I want you to know that you made the right one.”

  “Angel is safe.” Gage wraps his arm around my waist. “Your mother wouldn’t have rescued Tobie. There was no other choice to make.”

  Laken and Ellis come up, both looking slightly shaken yet furious at the circumstances, and we share a quick embrace.

  “Where is she?” Laken’s features crumble as if she’s already surmised the worst, and I tell her quickly, assuring her there was no other way.

  Ingram helps to give the resurrected water to drink and encourages them to settle in the building behind us for respite. Soon, my mother will be here to transport them back where they belong—bodies in the ground, spirits in the sky.

  One by one they come by and thank me for the opportunity to serve, for the rescue they weren’t expecting. They look at me like I’m some sort of a hero, and I don’t feel that way at all. To the Videns—who are essentially my people, despite the fact they chose to side with the Barricade—I am for sure no hero. Soon, I’ll be a devil.

  The bulk of the dead vanish into the building behind us where some of these very people lost their lives to begin with. A fresh, familiar face comes barreling at me with an ear-to-ear grin.

  “Casey!” I fall over her with a hearty embrace. “Where were you? Logan said your cell was empty!”

  “It was.” She steps back and makes a face. “I decided I was lonely, and they let me stay with the mean girls.” She glances back at a trio of brunettes, and I smile because I know them all and love them. “It turns out they’re not so mean after all. We have a ton in common. It looks as if I’ve made a few new eternal friends.”

  I nod with a laugh. “I suppose lifelong would be too short.”

  We get lost in a quick group hug as Logan and Gage join in on the effort. Before too long, the last of the dead are making themselves at home, and all feels right with this twisted world.

  Pierce comes up, and I embrace him without hesitating.

  “Dude, that was no joke. I’m glad you stepped in when you did. As much as any of us wanted to serve, it was a tough pill to swallow.” He starts to head toward the building, and I pull him back.

  “No, wait. You should come back to Paragon and say goodbye. I’m sure my mother will be by soon to take both you and Kate home.”

  “Paragon?” His eyes light up like a little boy at Christmas.

  “Yes, Nat would kill me if I denied her the right to say goodbye.”

  “Thanks, man.” He pulls me in and swings me around. “I’d better say goodbye to a f
ew of the folks here real quick.” He takes off toward the building.

  I look to Ellis and Laken. “What about Emerson and Holden? Were they taken with you?”

  “No,” Logan answers for them. “They took off. They were never arrested.”

  “Useless per usual. But I’m glad they’re safe.” I look to Gage and press my lips together until they’re white as paper. “It’s time to initiate the rest of the plan.”

  Brody comes up, breathless. “We did it.” He offers up a high five my way, and I take him up on it. “Now what?”

  “Go back to Paragon. Get your sister. I’ll meet you both at Devil’s Peak in an hour, and we’ll take it from there.”

  “Will do.”

  Gage walks him over to the woods and transports him home.

  Laken leans in and hooks my loose hairs behind my ear. “I’m proud of you, Skyla. You did great. You are a wonderful leader. I’m glad you’re mine.”

  “Thank you. Coop was still being processed or I’m sure he would have come. We couldn’t wait.”

  “And I’m thankful you didn’t.”

  “Same here, Messenger.” Ellis offers a quick pat over my back. “I mean Oliver. What else can I do for you?”

  “Go home and comfort Giselle. I’m sure she misses you.”

  He offers up a quick salute and heads to the woods just as Gage appears again.

  Laken shakes her head at me, her eyes cloud over with worry. “Skyla, they took Ellis and me to their facility because we had the babies. Angel turned bright blue, and her eyes started to spark. Honestly, I’ve never seen anything like it, and apparently neither had they. They tried to grill me, but I wouldn’t even give my name.”

  “Blue? My God, the boys used to do that, but thankfully they seem to have outgrown it.” Please, dear God, let them have outgrown it. The last thing I need is to worry about their complexion giving away their angelic lineage. “As soon as we hit that prison, they stripped us of them. I tried to hold on. Ellis did, too, but Tobie’s face lit up like a blue beacon herself, and the rest was history.”

  I take a breath, trying to digest it all. “It’s okay. I can only imagine how fascinated they were at the prospect of raising two alien beings without the influence of others to bog them down. I’m sure they thought they hit the jackpot.”

  “They didn’t thanks to you.” She gives my hair a quick stroke. “I’d better head home, too.” Laken ticks her head to the woods. “Coop is probably going insane.” She gives me a quick kiss to my cheek just as Wes comes up with Tobie. Laken swallows hard looking at the soot-covered little girl. “I’m glad you have your daughter back, Wes.” Her eyes glitter with tears as she ditches into the woods.

  He watches as she goes, his hand still protectively covering Tobie’s sweet dark head.

  “Thank you once again for saving my daughter.” He looks sheepishly from me to Logan. “And for bringing Laken back to me safe.”

  He starts to take off, and I snatch him by the wrist. “Where’s Melody Winters?”

  Wes frowns out at the building behind me. “I took her to Paragon before coming here.” Those familiar blue eyes tunnel into mine. “I was at Raven’s Eye, tonight myself, Skyla. I helped Gage transport the masses.” He glances past me at Logan. “I didn’t do it for your people or for me.”

  I take a startled step backward. “Of course not. You did it for Laken.”

  “Yes.” His expression sours despite the fact Tobie just leaned in and gifted him a kiss on the nose. “I needed to know she was safe.” He looks from Logan to me. “Thank you both.” He heads toward the woods, and both he and Tobie evaporate in a plume of electric blue fog.

  Logan takes up my hands and pulls me in close, smiling through the tears glittering in his eyes, and my heart bursts open at the seams for our baby. A fresh wound I’ll grieve forever.

  “She’s safe, Skyla. We will see her again.”

  I pull back and look into Logan Oliver’s citrine eyes, uncertain that I share his faith in the sentiment.

  “We will,” he says it sad, as a fact, as if he knew the answer would frighten me as much as it would delight me.

  We head back to Paragon and straight to Devil’s Peak. Gage helps me transport a handful of Spectators to the Black Forest, and Chloe starts in on what she does best, rats her little heart out. We take a few to Seattle, Brazil, and China, and Chloe plays her part as if this were the role she was born for. Not once has she asked about Tobie. Not that either Gage or I are surprised. We take the bulk of the Spectators straight to Raven’s Eye and retard the commotion at the mouth of the building as men swarm the facility trying to assess what the hell happened to those alien beings. We watch from afar as the Spectators thrash their way through those feds in their blue jackets as if they were rag dolls.

  “I hope they eat them all.” Chloe chortles a dark laugh.

  “Now that’s an outcome I hadn’t thought of.” Probably not a good one.

  “Not happening.” Gage nods ahead as agents swarm the Spectators, taking them down with the use of some kind of a Taser that shoots lightning from its eye. “They’ve got this. And they’ve also got their hands full.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “It looks like the heat is off our people.”

  “For the time being,” Chloe chimes. “Wesley won’t lie down for long.”

  Gage looks to me, forlorn, as if to say she’s right. Wes might be grateful today, but tomorrow is a different day. The battle between the Barricade and the Factions rages on. And until Wes lands on top, he will never cease.

  Maybe Coop is right. Maybe Wes must die. It’s the only way.

  But Tobie—Wes is all she has, and that little girl loves him. I think even Laken saw that tonight. Wes is a damn good father. It’s hard to hate your enemy when he melts your heart just a little.

  Gage whisks us back to Paragon, and we drop Chloe back off at Devil’s Peak where Brody waits for her.

  Gage takes us back to the house, back to the boys, back to our bed where we make love and lie naked in one another’s arms just the way it should be.

  Gage was meant for me. Just have my mother try to deny it.

  Weeks roll by. Heavy winds blow through Paragon and strip the softness from the scenery that the fog traditionally affords. It lets you see the harsh details of the world, the hard borders of the evergreens, the hard purple outline of Host lying like a sleeping giant in the sea, and just beyond that, Raven’s Eye where there is a panic of paranormal proportions, I’m sure of it. The news is unreasonably quiet—an irony in and of itself. Chloe and I have planted hundreds of Spectators in the paths of the world authorities—the largest congregation of them just north of Seattle in a weak attempt to deviate the government’s attention away from the island. But today it’s quiet. The wind, the fog, and even the feds have left Paragon for now. But I know enough to realize that the wind will stir again, the fog will return to Paragon in honor of their binding covenant. It is permanent. And yes, those men in blue will be back, too. We are no longer impervious to their suspicious gaze. Wes has opened a portal to hell that not even he could withstand, nor his precious daughter, nor the one that owns him completely, Laken.

  My mother swept up the dead and returned them to paradise as soon as we left Tenebrous that day—with the exception of the Kraggers and Kate, of course. The dead had come, did what was asked of them—were reused and returned all without the pomp and circumstance that a resurrection deserves. In hindsight, I would have handled it all differently. But at the time, I did what I needed to. The important thing is that I acted. I wasn’t idle, lost in my thinking, stalled in my own analysis. Perhaps just as important is that the next time something of this nature arises, I think it through, consider the fact I don’t want a single soul tormented. Perhaps if I would have done that to begin with, I could have sent the Spectators to Raven’s Eye long before I ever did. But the truth is, I wouldn’t have. I needed to see the error of my ways before resorting to something so low, and I do believe it was low of me to stoop
there.

  Classes at Host have started up again, and I’ve taken a partial load. Only one class leads me to university grounds, and the rest of them I’m able to take online. Emma begged me to place the boys in her daycare center, where she promised she would oversee them herself, but I opted for dear old Mom who was more than glad to oblige. And she’s almost okay with me just nursing the boys at night. Almost. But the biggest change this fall has brought about is the fact Mia and Melissa have entered into their junior year at West. It’s a frightening thought really—how fast time flies when you have your nose to the grindstone, just living your life. It makes me wonder how quickly my boys will grow up. Will I turn around and find it to be their junior year next? And how will I fill the interim? Will I busy myself with Faction business to the point I miss out on everything in between? It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. It was in my junior year that I met Logan and Gage. My entire world shifted on its axis that year.

  I asked the aforementioned gorgeous Olivers to meet me at Marshall’s. Gage is coming from Host, and Logan from the construction site. Nathan and Barron are with my mother, and Lexy and I just finished going through the Walsh home—my home, which I can’t seem to stop calling the Walsh home—we were working on flooring. Liam and his deconstruction crew came in and gutted the place. He replaced the old floorboards, the asbestos-riddled drywall, the windows, the doors, and now Lexy is helping me make a thousand and one decisions regarding kitchen appliances—high-end—countertops—granite, she swore I would regret marble to my dying day—backsplash, fixtures, fireplace mantel, wall color, whether to carpet or not carpet the boys’ room, where to put the planter boxes, how to design the hardscape for the backyard, and where we will eventually put in a swimming pool. All of those things cost money, and yet Gage keeps paying the bills, his wallet a never-ending tornado of dollars. It does make me wonder, but I’m too damn tired to ask any questions.