A Radiant Sky

by Jocelyn Davies

  In the distance, farther down the beach, I thought I could make out a body drawing closer. And another. And another.

  “And Devin,” Astaroth continued. “My, how the mighty have fallen. From Guardian to Rebel to nothing.”

  Devin lifted his chin defiantly.

  A sea of dark figures materialized at the edge of the beach. Coming toward us. Or coming for us.

  The Rebellion.

  My group huddled together, achingly small compared to the two armies facing us down.

  “We can’t control your powers, Skye,” Astaroth said. “And we haven’t been able to claim you for our own. Or, for that matter, kill you.”

  “Nor have we,” a voice spoke up. Ardith was at the front of the group on the beach before us, a sword strapped to her back, her hair in a long, glossy chestnut braid. Gideon stood close to her side.

  She drew the sword, at the ready. She and Asher made eye contact, and a storm of fury charged between them. He stepped closer to me. She barely even paused on Devin.

  “Just tell me again,” I whispered to Asher, “what side you’re on.”

  “Whatever side you’re on, Skye.” He squeezed my hand.

  “You’ve had the opportunity to choose for yourself,” Astaroth said. “And we’ve all tried to choose for you—to force you to pick a side. But you are untamed. Unbound by the laws of the Order and the Rebellion. If neither side can kill you, and neither has claimed you, there’s only one thing left to do.” A sinister smile tugged the edges of his lips. “We’ll just have to fight for you.”

  “I can fight for myself,” I said.

  “We all know you can control your powers. But it’s when you are panicked, when you are under attack, that your control weakens. And powerful, unexpected things happen.”

  He cocked his head at me.

  “Do you know why you are here, Skye?”

  I swallowed.

  “No,” I said.

  “If I may,” he said, taking a candle from one of his Gifted, “allow me to tell you a legend:

  “It began with a vision. Many, many millennia ago. Before your parents were even conceived. Before they were born, fell in love, were cast to earth, and before you were created, their flesh and blood—and something else, some magical essence we still do not understand. Nor do I think we ever will.” The candles that the Gifted held aloft flickered, casting light across the Rebellion, below. “I was not the one who had this vision—though I was alive at the time. It was my father who saw it.”

  I stepped forward. “What did he see?”

  “Chaos,” Astaroth said. “Cities burning. Flooding. Death. The Order unable to control it, to stop it. Because the Order could not have seen it coming. For they had lost the ability to see along the lines of fate. They had lost the Sight. It was,” he said, “an End of Days.”

  “But,” said Ardith, “another angel had the same vision. He didn’t see destruction. He saw renewal. He saw a Beginning of Days. The dawn of a new era.”

  “The two angels argued. One was convinced that if we lived according to free will, that day would be a day of hope and light. While the other was bound to his belief in fate, and was convinced the day would be the destruction of the world. So one angel left the Order. And he was the first Rebel.”

  “What does this have to do with me?” I asked. “Why I’m here?”

  “Because in the vision it was you—your powers—who brought this day to come. The daughter of dark and light caused the End—or the Beginning—of days. But nobody knew which would happen. It’s why we tried to prevent you from ever being born. And it’s why we watched you so carefully when you wouldn’t die.”

  “And it’s why we tried so hard to fight them, Skye!” Ardith said, raising her voice above the wind as it began to howl, blowing sand into the air around us. “Because we knew you would bring a day that would change the world—and make it better! It’s why we wanted you to side with us.”

  “So you could destroy the Order,” Astaroth said.

  “No—so we could use her for good—and prevent you from destroying her.”

  “But neither side succeeded. And so we have only one option left.”

  A shiver ran down my spine.

  “That day is today.” Astaroth’s voice was grave. “We’ll let your powers take over. And the rest . . . is what they’ll base new legends on.”

  Something Asher had once told me came roaring back, filled every inch of me.

  “I know you’re stuck between two choices, and you don’t exactly have a conscious say in the matter. Your powers will take over when it really counts.”

  Ian stepped up beside me on one side, Asher and Devin on the other. Their hands tensed by their sides.

  “So,” I said. “What happens now, Astaroth?”

  “Now,” he said. “We fight. And we see just what you’re made of. Will it be the end of the world or the beginning? Will the Rebellion plunge the world into darkness—or will the Order rule forever?”

  I turned toward my small team. Hopefully we wouldn’t be small for long.

  “It’s time to call the Rogues!” I said, strangely calm now that the time had finally come. Aunt Jo, James, and Aaron formed a circle, taking hands. They left one spot empty.

  “For you,” Aunt Jo said. If she was nervous, she didn’t show it. “Let’s call our army.”

  I ran to her, grasped her hand and Aaron’s. Power surged between the four of us, so strong and quick it almost broke our hands apart. But we held on tighter.

  I called out to the Rogues. I willed them to come and fight with me. I summoned them. The balance of power in my blood shifted and changed, now light, now dark, now both. There was a rushing in my ears, so enormous that it blocked out all other sound.

  And when I opened my eyes, they were coming. Stretching out down the beach in the other direction were hundreds of people. Their eyes were angry, their faces, determined. They were dressed in normal clothes, like they’d been pulled from normal lives. They swarmed the beach, coming from all sides.

  The closer they drew, the angrier they looked. I had a sudden panicked thought. What if they didn’t want me for their leader? What if they didn’t want to fight with me?

  What if they wanted to fight against me?

  When they reached us, they came to a stop and turned, as one, in my direction. Trying to keep my hands from shaking, I took a deep breath.

  “Rogues,” I said. “You may feel that there’s no place for you in this world. But that ends now. I’m like you—I’ve had to find my own place. But your place can be here, with me. Please”—my voice sounded so strong across the beach—“fight with me. Fight for a world that isn’t so divided. Fight for someplace to call home.”

  Their eyes flashed. For one sickening moment, my heart leaped to my throat. And then—they began to cheer. Their voices rose above the howling wind, and lightning cracked across the sky.

  I had found my people.

  “Astaroth!” I called into the wind, whipping around. “You think you can fight over us? You think one side is going to beat the other? Well, guess what! There won’t be an End of Days today. Or a Beginning of Days, either. I have the Rogues on my side, and there’s power in numbers. We’re going to keep the balance between dark and light. The world will keep spinning, and neither of you will take control of the universe if I can help it!”

  Astaroth looked panicked, for the first time, as the Rogues continued to storm the beach. He hadn’t been expecting the force of the Uprising. My ability to blur destiny had made sure of that.

  “I guess there are many more people in this world who are mixed up, who believe in gray areas, than you could have imagined. We are the people who don’t believe the world exists in your black-and-white terms,” I said, sweeping my arms wide at the children of angels and humans who, like me, belonged to no true place but their own. “And we’re going to change the way of things,” I said. “Once and for all.”

  I let my wings expand from my back, mas
sive, catching the gleam of the fire in their silvery feathers. Reaching behind me, I plucked one bright, shiny feather and held it aloft.

  When I brought it down to my side, I was holding my own angelic sword.

  28

  The sword gleamed in the firelight. I held it at the ready, in a fighting stance.

  “Guardians!” Astaroth yelled. “Attack!” The sky grew dark with clouds. The Gifted let their arrows rain down around us, and Guardians swarmed from the steps of the cliff, storming the beach. Immediately, I felt my optimism fade, and a sense of gloom and dread seep into my heart.

  They’re manipulating us, I realized with horror. Making us weak. I turned wildly to look for Asher and Ian, Raven and the Rogues. They’d all brought hands to their ears, as if somehow they could block out the Gifteds’ sickening voices.

  You will never beat us.

  “Rebels!” Ardith shouted with a grimace, and the dark army of Rebels raised their hands in the air to create fire.

  The Rogues spanned out around us on all sides. They had a range of powers to draw from—they called upon their different holds over each small part of the natural world. Birds swooped from the sky and fish darted from the ocean. Plants and roots sprang up across the beach, tripping people as they fought. Aunt Jo, James, and Aaron grabbed one another’s hands once again, and with their powers combined, they created a series of watery fissures that zigzagged across the beach.

  “Skye,” Ian grabbed my arm. He spoke quickly, as the fighting swarmed around us. “I know our friendship wasn’t ever meant to be anything more. I really see that now. I think the reason I always felt so close to you is because you were supposed to help me figure out who I really am, and lead me to my true calling.”

  “Don’t tell me you believe in fate now!” I yelled above the wind, above the shouting voices. “It’s a little late for that!”

  “Honestly? I don’t know what I believe,” Ian said. “But I do know that we were supposed to find each other. We were meant to help each other, Skye. I’m a Rogue, and my father is a Rogue, and one thing I have to do is fight by your side for all the Rogues until the bitter end. For all of us who don’t know exactly who we are yet—and don’t want to decide. Call it fate. Call it free will. But it’s a choice I’d make again and again.”

  “Ian,” I said, grabbing him with both hands. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t thank me. Just win.”

  Asher was by my side then, the wind whipping at his dark hair, a wild, determined look in his eyes. He held out a hand to Ian. And Ian took it without hesitation.

  “Let’s do this,” Asher said.

  And together, we ran into the fray.

  My beautiful, diaphanous dress blew in the wind. I kicked off my heels and fixed my sword to one of the straps of my dress. I would try to fight using my powers first. I’d only use my sword if I needed to. If it came down to life—or death.

  All around me, I watched angels throwing fireballs, blowing wind, casting those force fields that Devin had once used against Asher. My blood began to simmer and then to rise to a boil, and I knew, though I hated to admit it, that Astaroth was right—I could control my powers, but when I felt out of control, it was out of my hands. The blackening clouds above us opened up, and rain began to pour down.

  “Careful, Skye,” Asher called.

  Through the rain, I could make out Devin and Raven fighting, side by side. A Rebel’s fireball zinged toward Raven’s face—but Devin pulled her out of harm’s way at the last minute. So he really is fighting on his own terms, I thought happily. Ian had taken my sword from me and was fighting off Guardians. I turned around and saw Asher going head-to-head with Ardith. It broke my heart, but I lobbed a ball of fire in her direction. She ducked, and Asher looked at me, fierce and proud.

  The battle raged on. I don’t know how long it lasted. We might have been there for hours, or it could have been days. The beach thinned out. But I managed to keep my powers under control. The waves churned, lapped angrily against the shore. The rain turned to hail, pelting down hard.

  “Traitor!”

  I spun around at the voice, but it wasn’t meant for me. Gideon was crouched on the black sand, panting. Devin stood above him, his sword raised above his head. Behind him was Raven. Her hair whipped in the wind and she gazed at him gratefully.

  “Don’t you touch her.” Devin’s voice was low and dangerous.

  Gideon’s face, which had once been so open and friendly to me, was twisted in a sneer.

  “How easily you turn your back on your supposed side! First the Order, and now you’re fighting against us? Does honor mean nothing to you? Is loyalty just an empty word?” He pushed his glasses up on his nose.

  “No.” Devin’s voice was scary calm. “It meant too much to me, for too long. It ruled my life. But now, all of this is meaningless. The Order, the Rebellion. The Rogues. At the end of the day, what does any of it mean? They’re all just empty words for something I don’t believe in anymore.” He tensed, about to strike. “I just know I have to fight for the only people who have ever cared about me.” His eyes found Raven’s. And then mine.

  Gideon looked unsure. He opened his mouth and paused. The two of them stood there, and for a minute I wondered if Gideon was about to come fight with us. But before he could speak, a dark figure hurtled itself at Devin.

  Ardith took him from behind, her arms wrapped tightly around his chest and a sword at his neck.

  “Stop!” Raven screamed. Gideon scrambled to his feet and held her back. She struggled frantically against him.

  “Never hesitate when it comes to love,” Ardith spat. “Never stop fighting for a second.”

  “Ardith!” Asher yelled, appearing beside me. He held an arm aloft, a cluster of embers burning and smoldering in his cupped palm. “Don’t you dare hurt him. Put the sword down and join us.”

  Ardith glared at him, tightening her grip on Devin. The fallen Guardian and former Rebel looked strangely serene—at peace, almost. Was I hallucinating, or was Asher trying to save him?

  “Surrender!” Ardith cried. “I’ll kill him—I’ll do it! And if you don’t, it just goes to show you how meaningless your words are.”

  “Don’t do it,” Devin said, his voice barely rising above the wind. “The rules, the sides—none of it matters, anymore. You were right, Asher. You were right all along.”

  “No!” Asher and I cried at the same time. The embers whizzed from his hand—but Ardith ducked, and they missed her by a hair.

  “It does matter!” I yelled. A fog, thick and heavy and white, was beginning to descend on the beach. I tried beating it back, but it was the work of many Rebels’ powers combined. Instead, it surged forward. I could hardly see what was happening. “Keep fighting, Devin! We’re going to win! You and Raven will be free to be together. You just have to believe that this is going to end well.”

  Ian drew up beside me, panting. “What’s going on?”

  Through the fog, I could just make out Devin’s face, Ardith’s arms circled tightly around his chest. The sword’s blade glinted at his throat.

  Devin looked between me and Asher. But I was done trying to figure out what all of it meant. I had a fight to win.

  “Give me my sword,” I said to Ian. He placed it in my hands. My heart was pounding. I had to trust that love would guide my aim. Like it had for me throughout my whole life. Astaroth was wrong. Love would make me strong this time.

  And so, I raised my sword above my head and threw it into the mist with all my strength—aiming straight at where I could just see Ardith’s silhouette. The sword disappeared into the mist.

  Ian gripped my arm. “Where’s Asher?” I whipped around to see him hurl himself into the mist at Ardith at the same time. Straight at where I’d thrown my sword. And then the mist was so thick I couldn’t see anything anymore.

  A strange silence settled across the beach. I was aware of Ian standing at my side, saying
something that I couldn’t hear. There was a scream, and then a sob. A vague understanding dawned on me. I had hit someone. The world bottomed out from under me as I realized it. But who?

  As if in a dream, I began to move. I tripped on something and fell to my knees. Panic tore at me blindly, but it was only the hem of my dress, dirty and soaked, that had gotten tangled beneath my feet. I stood up. I kept moving, collecting the folds of the beautiful dress in my arms to keep from stumbling again. And then my feet hit something solid.

  Feet, I realized. Those are feet.

  The fog drew out with the tide, and now that I could see again, dread descended on me.

  Asher was kneeling on the sand. He looked up at me, helplessly.

  Lying on the ground at my feet, his blood seeping out around him, was Devin.

  Raven let out a strangled cry and fell to the ground. Sheets of blond hair came loose from her bun and covered her face.

  I killed him. The panicked thought tore through me. But then I looked closer. His eyes fluttered open, his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. My sword was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a deep slice of blood arced across his chest. From a sword, it seemed, that had been held to his neck—but had missed its mark. No, I realized. I didn’t do this. Ardith did.

  Devin’s breath came in short gasps. He met my eyes sadly.

  “Over there,” Asher said somberly. And I followed his gaze. Ardith lay several feet away—where the force of my sword had thrown her back. Her eyes were closed, her mouth still. The sand around her was a deepening red.

  A choking sob forced its way from my throat as Asher ran to me, and I dropped to my knees. Devin’s breathing was weak. He looked up into my eyes, and I was struck, again and again, by how deep they could pierce me. I grasped his hands in mine.

  “I really do care,” Devin said, his voice barely a whisper. “I always have. Everything I did, I did for you.”