Renegade: A Young Adult Dystopian

by Mallory McCartney

  With that, he shoved past him, slamming the library door with such force he was sure the door would splinter. You are no son of mine. Adair couldn’t breathe as he blindly grappled with the door knob. The door swung toward him, the explosion of noise surreal to him as he looked down the hallway, seeing his father getting further away with every step. He had to stop him.

  Lurching forward, his breath caught in his lungs, burning against his ribcage. Move. He was numb, he was nothing but the stinging reminder of how his father saw him. Weak. The thought dissolved to ash in his mouth, and the hallway spun sickly on its axis. He was anything but weak. Someone caught his arm, their cool fingers brushing against his burning flesh bringing him slamming back down into reality.

  “Stratton?”

  He felt feral as he rounded on Memphis, visibly flinching at his withering look. Spitting, he pulled hard out of his hold. “Let me go.” He had already wasted too much time. What was his father going to do? What had he already done? He was practically running, weaving through the hallway, through the classmates that hated him, through the school that confined him.

  “Adair!”

  He hadn’t realized that Memphis had been on his heels, and with a flash of blond hair, he was in front of him, arms crossed. “What happened?” His voice was quiet, his ice blue eyes piercing into him. His chest was heaving, fists clenched tightly at his sides. Licking his dry lips, trying to begin to explain why he had to let him go now. That he couldn’t even begin to explain what his dad had been doing, what he was about to do. He could feel the stares burning into his back, the judgements, the whispers of the students around him. His world was tipping, and he was drowning in it.

  Snapping his gaze past Memphis, Adair felt that small protected part of himself crack, falling into oblivion. Falling into darkness. “Get out of my way now, or I will make you.” Memphis’s eyes widened slightly, the only sign of hurt flickering across his face. Adair’s anger was liquid fire in his veins, consuming him, incinerating him. It was effortless to abandon himself, diving into his ability that was always waiting just beneath the surface. Waiting for him to come home.

  Memphis’s mind was an iron seal, but he overtook him within seconds. Adair didn’t waste any time and dove deeper into Memphis’s muscle memory, and he poured his breaking heart into his actions. Memphis clawed against him, ripping and tearing at him, trying to stop him. But he barely noticed. Adair felt his power overflowing, tipping the scales, knowing he was about to land the finishing blow.

  “Adair, no.” Memphis voice was distant and weak. Diving, he suffocated him, pushing him farther down. Until darkness snapped liked a whip and consumed them. Taking a gulping breath as he was snapped back into his body, looking at a crumpled Memphis in front of him.

  “What did you do?” Adair raised his gaze to a pale face boy with flaming red hair.

  He spat, “He is just knocked out, Alby.”

  Rushing to Memphis, Alby yelled something at him, but Adair was already running, his adrenaline fueling him, pushing him harder, faster. What had he done?

  The concrete world around him was a blur as panic sank its steady claws into his mind. He had crossed a line. He pushed the thought down. Memphis wouldn’t have let him go otherwise. How could he have possibly started to explain what had happened? Who would understand? Who would listen to the shadows of his heart when they kept him at a distance? Who would see that he was desperately trying to just be a man. And not a weapon. A choked cry escaped from him as Adair threw the doors to the Academy open, the afternoon sunlight pouring over him. Cesan was in the courtyard, his gruff voice snapping commands at several senior students.

  “Dad!” His voice cracked across the courtyard as Cesan slowly met his gaze, taking him in. Adair took one step, his mind reeling. When the entire school behind him shuddered.

  “Cesan!” Roque’s voice made Adair flinch as the door exploded open behind him. Roque, Nei, and his mother appeared first. Tadeas and his entourage quickly followed behind them.

  He was swept to the side, Bresslin crouching down to cup his cheek. “Adair, did he do this to you?” Ice crusted over his skin at his silence, and Bresslin stood, her eyes slits as she took in her husband.

  Cesan, in a fluid motion, gripped a hilt beneath his jacket and, with a hiss, brandished a black steel blade as he took in the group. His grin was twisted, contorting his handsome features as he yelled to Roque alone. “No more, Roque! I will not bow to you! A desolate, a weak man! How dare you string me along on your empty promises for years! How dare you go back on everything you promised my family! Promised me! I will be king, and I promise you, you will wish you didn’t cross me.”

  The Faes’ faces darkened, as Adair could practically taste the anger rolling from them. Roque walked down the steps, appraising his best friend. “Cesan, listen to me. Don’t do this. What are my choices? The world constantly changes, and it demands that people either accept it, or they will fall stagnant in this life. I will not make my father’s mistakes. For the first time in years, we have the chance to make our alliances stronger instead of continuing to break them more. Stay with me. Please.”

  Mad, crackling laughter erupting from his father, and dread filled him as Cesan raised a dark eyebrow and whispered, “No.”

  Adair saw it in slow motion at first, Cesan running full tilt toward Roque, that mad dark gleam shining in his eyes, and Adair knew in his heart exactly what he was about to do before anyone else could react. He was born from ice and darkness, and he was his father’s son through and through. He was the only one who could stand up to Cesan.

  “Dad, No!” Adair exploded past the group, shoving arms and bodies out of his way, and he flung his physical body off the step, but his ability was already soaring, pouring out of him. He felt the rip, the expanse as his ability was elevated and wrapped itself around Cesan. It was like hitting a brick wall, battering repeatedly, all of his energy pouring into this single action. Only to get pinned. He was slammed back into his physical body, the air knocked out of his lungs from the force of his father’s ability. Landing hard on the ground, his head cracked from the impact. Wheezing, he rolled, white spots dancing in his vision. Cesan’s blade slammed into the ground right where Adair had been a second before.

  “Do you think you are strong enough to stop me?”

  Adair scrambled back from his father, from his words, from his violence. His voice cracked as he begged, “Dad, please. Stop. Listen to them. Listen to me. I’m asking you not to do this. Don’t leave.”

  Cesan leaped forward, forcing Adair back onto his feet, to duck and dive from his onslaught. Steel hissed through the air, harsh and relentless. Tripping, he fell onto the steps to look up at Cesan about to plunge the tip of the blade down. He shut his eyes, flinching as he readied himself to feel the slice of the steel tearing through him.

  “No!”

  The world exploded into ice. The stairs, the courtyard, the blade in Cesan’s hands. Bresslin charged toward them as the sword shattered, forcing Cesan to turn his attention to her. Flickering anguish crossed his face as he took in his wife, spears of ice forming in her palms.

  “Cesan, leave. Now.”

  He paused, sweat dripping off him, and he whispered, “Bresslin. Come with me. You don’t have to do this. Don’t make me choose.”

  Snarling, she stalked up to him, not pausing as she slapped his face, ice slicing his skin. Glistening ruby droplets streaked his face, and she roared, “How do you like it? How long have you been doing this? He is our son, Cesan. Get. Out. Now.” Each word she threw at him like a punch, growling and fierce.

  “Bresslin, wait.”

  Snapping her hands down, a wall of ice exploded from her, forcing Cesan to stagger back. The ice was thick, a thousand colors shimmering in it as the sun sliced through between them. For a second they just stared at each other, unsaid things passing, both of their chests heaving. Bresslin growled as she watched Cesan turn his back on them, snapping orders to his group. Adair watched as i
f in a trance as two seniors cut the horses Tadeas’s group had brought, and they mounted them. Cesan hauled himself up on the stallion’s back, twisting to stare at them all. His gaze landed on him last as he roared, “You will all regret this!”

  Then with thundering hooves, they slowly disappeared, leaving them with his ringing threat and their broken hearts.

  The tears slid down her face as Bresslin snapped her fingers, the ice cracking into a thousand tiny shards, suspended in the air like crystals. She stared at her work before turning her back. The ice melted and dissipated into droplets of water, sloshing onto the ground behind her. “Adair, I’m here. I’m here.” Her hushed murmurs broke him even further. One word burned in his mind, etching itself there permanently. Why? “Adair, you have to stand for me.”

  He looked up to his mother’s face, her kind eyes, soft features. She was strong, and he never once doubted that she wasn’t good. But what was he? Was there any trace of her in him?

  Shakily, he stood. His already bruised body making each movement drawn out and painful. Roque still stood on the steps, staring at where Cesan had been as if willing his best friend back. At their movement, Roque snapped his attention to them, and narrowing his eyes, said, “Bresslin, you need to follow him now. Take a group with you, but do not let him accomplish what he wants to do.”

  “And exactly what is that?”

  Adair was surprised at how steady his voice was, and Roque sneered, taking the steps two at a time. “Your father, Stratton, is planning on starting another war. By preying on desolates and people from the Shattered Isles until I step down from accepting my terms as King of Kiero.”

  No.

  Roque didn’t stop until he was face to face with Adair, his breath hot against his skin. “He is doing what he knows will hurt most. It’s what my father would have done.”

  Bresslin stepped in between them. “Roque, enough. It’s not Adair’s fault.”

  Roque stared at him, until wrenching his gaze away sighing. “You’re right. Bresslin. You have an hour to get ready. Nei, you will go as well. Can we prepare the school in time?”

  They all snapped into action at his commands. Bresslin shooting him an apologetic glance before she whisked herself away, jogging toward Nei. Tadeas gave Roque a sad nod, and anger reared its ugly head within him as he took in the scene. They were preparing for war; in a single moment Cesan had ripped everything away.

  Grinding his teeth, Adair forced himself to move, following the group back into the Academy. Everything was displaced: the brilliant warmth of the sun, the peacefulness of the forest sprawling behind the Academy. A dark foreboding unravelled within Adair, the pit in his stomach consuming him. Don’t you want more? Whispers cut through the pain, wrapping around him, and Adair shook his head, pushing himself back into the Academy and to a healer. No one stopped to double-check if the shadow of a boy was okay. No one stopped to make sure he was holding himself together. And like thin ice, a crack split through Adair, reluctant and then all consuming. Until there was nothing whole left.

  5

  Brokk

  Hope was a dangerous thing. It could consume every dream and make them take flight, if you allowed. Those wild daydreams that became a tangible reality in one’s heart and mind. Or it could incinerate everything you thought you knew, burning you down to your core, leaving you raw and exposed for the world.

  As Brokk walked down the hallway, looking for Memphis, his world in a split second was ripped apart. The hallways were quiet, which should have been his first sign that something was deeply off. Class had just ended for the afternoon, and like every other day, his blood was boiling after seeing Iasan. His teacher had become predatory toward him, trying to push him to his edge but always in ways only noticed to him now, putting on the persona for the other teachers. Iasan was only trying to ensure a bright future, after all.

  By grooming him into a lethal weapon that would kill on command. Internally groaning, Brokk was hoping for the blissful distraction that the hallways of the Academy always provided. His fellow classmates always having a flair for the dramatics, it was guaranteed he would be swept away in their display, along with his thoughts. Instead, his footsteps echoed as he continued, dread pooling in his stomach, making it churn. Turning the corner, he was about to stop and go back, when he saw him. Crumpled in the middle of the hallway, his blond hair splayed out around him, his skin leached of any color. He looked dead. Alby, flickering between human and a perfect replica of the wall behind him in a panic.

  “What happened?” Brokk’s voice cracked as he sprinted, dropping to his best friend’s side instantly. Alby’s eyes were wide, and he grappled with his words, his mouth opening and closing. Brokk snapped, “Alby, what happened?” The doors at the end of the hallway flew open, and he stood slowly, taking in the group rushing toward them, not waiting for Alby to reply.

  Roque stormed down to them, Nei and Bresslin at his heels, Tadeas and his entourage flanking them. Roque took them in, narrowing his eyes to slits. “Foster! What are you doing here? I told the teachers to issue a temporary room curfew, effective immediately.”

  Roque’s words were just white noise, taking in Adair filing slowly in at the end of the hallway looking like he had just been through a war. “Foster, I suggest you answer the question.” Roque spoke quietly and slowly, and he flicked his gaze up to the man for a second, truly taking him in. And what Brokk saw, for the first time in years, scared him. Rage contorted their leader’s features into one unrecognizable. One that consumed the man and left a person that had nothing left to lose.

  Brokk took a step back, his voice hoarse. “I was just looking for Memphis.”

  Alby cut in, growling the next words Brokk never wanted to hear. “He did it. Adair used his ability against Memphis.” He barely took in the next couple of seconds.

  Roque stiffened, turning slowly to take in Adair limping behind them all, his hooded eyes sweeping down to the floor in front of him, not realizing that everyone had focused in on him. He hurt Memphis. Brokk’s nails dug into his skin, and he hardly digested that he was quivering. His body responded before his mind could. He felt his weight shift, springing forward, anger flaring through his veins, electrifying every move. He pushed past Roque, yells charging behind him. But it was like he was being funneled down, swept away, with only one objective: to make Adair pay. His blood coursed through his veins, wildly alive, and he lost himself to his adrenaline.

  Cracking bones and the world splintered as he flew, landing heavily as a wolf, his lean body and golden fur rippling, his growl tearing through him. The King of the Shattered Isles slammed himself flush to the wall, looking with wide eyes as he came charging past. The rest of his company followed suit, and Brokk snarled his massive maw at them. They should be afraid. Adair’s head snapped up, shadows and malice dancing across his face. He didn’t care about what the Faes were saying. Or the Strattons. Or the strange new king. All that had ever mattered to him was his family. And everyone knew when it came to him it didn’t have to do with blood. Memphis was his best friend, and their bond was as strong as any kinship. They looked after each other and always had. Always would.

  The coldness of the hallway sent shivers up his limbs as his body was tugged sideways, slamming into the concrete, black spots erupting in his vision. Ice slicked the hallways as Bresslin sauntered up behind him, eyes flashing.

  “Mom, no!” Adair lurched forward, his skin draining of any color. Brokk recovered himself, his nails as sharp as any blade as they dug into the pale ice. A deep thrumming overtook his senses. He was two lunges away from Adair, and his hackles raised on his back. Bresslin would never reach him in time, and she wouldn’t attack him, not with the Faes there. Adair was a liar, always just waiting for the opportune moment to tear their group apart. It ended now. Adair stopped, slowly raising his chin, fists clenching at his sides. Brokk snapped his massive jaws, welcoming his rage, welcoming his defiance. It wouldn’t be a fair fight any other way. His muscles tensed as he
lowered his body, preparing to cut through the air.

  “Brokk, no!”

  A flash of inky hair and Emory threw herself in front of him, grabbing his paw, her green eyes alit. His world came crashing down around him. His back slammed into the floor, winding him, as any ounce of strength, any ounce of himself, was gone. Emory stood above him, gritting her teeth, and he knew she was barely holding on to the new surge of ability soaking into her bones. His ability.

  “What are you doing?” Each word was forced, and she only looked down to him, shielding Adair behind her. Her grip tightened around his wrist, and Brokk licked his dry lips, searching desperately for his power, both the wolf and the other. The secret he had held close to his heart for years. The secret he had made sure to keep from his best friends, knowing if he ever got himself into this situation, that she would know in a split second.

  Her eyebrows furrowed as sweat slicked her forehead. He wanted to scream at her, to stop, to try to not figure it out. He barely understood it himself. They had transcended time, and Brokk wanted to form coherent sentences to begin to explain. Instead panic flooded through him, about what he had almost done and about what Emory now knew. His pulse fluttered underneath her pinning ability, and she leaned in closer, whispering only to him, “This isn’t over. Don’t kill him, okay?”

  She let go, and Brokk shuddered, his ability slamming back into his marrow, as relief washed over him. It was like returning home after being caught in a storm. Warm and familiar, he clutched his head, losing himself in the feeling. He never wanted to let go.

  “Roque, this can’t be tolerated!”

  Brokk sat up, taking in Bresslin chasing after Roque, the rest of the group hanging back. Roque stormed right up to him as he froze. Their leader lowered himself so he was eye-to-eye with him, his breathing heavy. For a moment they stayed like this, sizing up the other.