As they continue to load the cargo, the guards’ leather boots kick up plumes of red dust, which tickles our noses. Natalie covers her nose just as a sneeze escapes. She gives me a panicked look.
“Did you hear something?” Brown Boots says. I wave at Natalie and Elijah to move. We crawl across the sand to the truck parked a couple of feet away, just in time to avoid being spotted as Brown Boots peers under the red vehicle, where we were hiding.
“Huh,” he mutters, shaking his head.
We scamper under the next vehicle, keeping out of sight, and after a few heart-stopping minutes, we make it to the green truck heading to Thrace. It’s parked next to an armored cargo train, but the cargo isn’t medical supplies: it’s prisoners. People scream and groan inside the carriages, their hands stretching out of the barred windows, begging passing guards to free them or give them water.
“We have to help them,” Natalie says.
“We’ll be spotted,” Elijah replies.
A Sentry guard opens the truck door and climbs in. We don’t have much time.
“Ash, look!” Natalie whispers, pointing to three figures walking alongside the cargo train, heading right toward us. It’s Sebastian and Garrick, plus a third man—a Sentry guard, who I’m assuming is Pearson.
The guards scurry out of Sebastian’s way as he’s led toward one of the carriages. The silver buttons on his Tracker uniform glisten in the sunlight as he walks. His head and face are both clean shaven, highlighting the rose tattoo above his left ear. The ink has darkened from a vivid scarlet to a deep mahogany where his olive skin has caught the sun.
By comparison, Garrick looks bedraggled and tired, and there’s blood around his ears where the sonic shields must have burst his eardrums. His expensive clothes are torn on one side, and I’m guessing he came face-to-face with a pack of hungry Wrath Hounds. They must’ve turned off the sonic shields like we did, not realizing what they were for. Only the guards who worked at the Barren Lands camp would’ve known about the jackals. It would explain why they didn’t find us in the tunnel; they probably didn’t stick around long enough to thoroughly search the area.
He sniffs the air and peers in our direction, his eyes squinting against the desert sun. We slink deeper into the shadows.
“Do you think he saw us?” Elijah whispers.
My muscles tense. It’s dark under the truck, and we’re covered in dirt, so it’s unlikely he can see us. I’m more worried that he can smell us, although the stench of the prisoners in the cargo train should help camouflage our scent. Garrick continues to look in our direction for what seems like an eternity before turning his attention back to Sebastian and the Sentry guard. The tension in my muscles uncoils.
“This had better be worth it,” Sebastian snaps at Pearson.
“Oh, it’s worth it,” the guard says.
He slides open the door of one of the carriages, revealing the cargo inside.
Natalie clamps a hand over her mouth, stifling her gasp.
Inside the carriage, chained and hanging from the ceiling, is Sigur.
That’s why Fire Rapids sounded familiar. It’s where Sigur said he was going when we discussed our escape plans. His wings are shredded, and he’s been badly beaten, his white hair soaked through with red, his face almost unrecognizable. For a fleeting moment, I hope Sebastian won’t be able to identify him.
Sebastian steps into the carriage and grips Sigur’s face, turning it from side to side, inspecting it closely. A cold, frightening smile breaks out on Sebastian’s lips.
“My day just got a lot better,” he says.
Sigur spits in Sebastian’s face. The Tracker punches him in return. Sigur grunts, bending double.
“Bring the nipper up to the Destroyer Ship,” Sebastian says, wiping the spittle off his cheek.
Pearson stops the Lupine. “Hey, not yet. What about my reward?”
Garrick growls, and the guard recoils.
Sebastian draws his sword, and with two swift movements, cleaves off the remains of Sigur’s wings. His pained howl echoes throughout the depot as dark blood pours down his back.
Sebastian tosses the wings at Pearson. “There’s your reward. Now, untie that creature and bring him to the ship.” He steps off the train.
Pearson and Garrick untie the chains holding Sigur up. He crashes to the ground, exhausted and broken. His head lolls in our direction, and alarm registers on his face when he spots us hiding under the truck.
The truck’s engine begins to rumble. They’re about to leave.
“We need to go,” Elijah whispers.
“We have to save Sigur,” Natalie replies.
If I’m going to rescue him, now is the time to do it.
The engine revs.
This is our best chance to get to Thrace.
My eyes lock with Sigur’s.
He’s your Blood Father.
Sigur shakes his head slightly, understanding.
“Come on,” I say to the others, and run to the end of the truck, climbing on board.
They hurry onto the vehicle after me. We duck for cover behind the towers of crates as a third guard approaches the truck. He slams the doors, blocking out the world, but not before I’ve heard Sigur’s scream.
PART III
* * *
MOON STAR
24.
NATALIE
THE TRAILER SWAYS as we travel along the bumpy desert road, the crates of food and military supplies threatening to topple on us at any moment. We find a recess in the crates and make ourselves comfortable, since we’re going to be here for at least a day, if not two. I retrieve a few lanterns from one of the supply crates and light them with Ash’s cigarette lighter. The firelight casts a soft, orange glow around us, reminding me a little bit of the burning Cinderstone houses of Black City. Home. I’ll never see it again. There’s no home to go back to.
The atmosphere in the truck is subdued. We’re all still reeling about what we saw in the depot with Sigur. I can only imagine the horrors he’s enduring right now. Did they take him into a cell, like Polly’s? Grief rips through me. How many more friends and family members are we going to lose before this conflict is over?
Ash sits opposite me, his legs outstretched and his eyes shut, deep in thought. I know he’s worried about Sigur, but he hasn’t said a word to me since we boarded the truck. It hurts that he doesn’t want to confide in me, but maybe he just needs some time. I can understand that.
Sighing, I search the food crates for a bottle of water, but then a wave of nausea hits me. I place a hand over my stomach, waiting for it to pass. I’ve been feeling sick on and off all day, and I suspect it’s the Wrath.
Elijah raises a quizzical brow at me. “You feeling okay?”
Ash’s eyes snap open.
I could kill Elijah. “I’m fine, thank you. Just a little queasy from all the rocking.”
Elijah gives me an apologetic look, realizing he’s put his foot in it.
“You look very pale,” Ash says, walking over to me. He presses a hand against my forehead. “You’re burning up. You need to lie down.”
“I’m okay, really,” I say. This would be more believable if I weren’t sweating.
Ash searches the crates for some clothes and pulls out a bunch of Sentry jackets and some black winter robes, laying them on the ground. I lie down on the makeshift bed, and he places my head on his lap, stroking my hair.
“I’m sorry about Sigur,” I say.
His hand pauses for a second, and then he continues to caress my hair.
“Ash—”
“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” he says.
I gaze up at him, but don’t push it.
Elijah brings over a bottle of water, and Ash snatches it from him.
“I’ll do that,” he says.
What’s g
oing on between those two? Ash unscrews the bottle top and cradles my head while he pours the water into my mouth. I only manage a few gulps before I throw it back up.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
Ash holds back my hair as I’m sick again. Elijah curls his lip, but says nothing, even though he has every right to complain. Instead, he rummages around the crates until he finds some crackers.
“These should settle Natalie’s stomach,” he says, tossing them to Ash.
Over the next hour, Ash feeds me water and crackers while Elijah does his best to clean up the mess I’ve made. Ash creates a pillow out of the jackets and mops my brow with a damp rag, making sure I’m comfortable. He looks so worried, like he thinks I might shatter into a thousand pieces. How’s he going to react when I tell him I’ve got the Wrath? It’ll crush him, I know it.
The nausea finally passes, and I curl up against him. “I love you,” I say to him.
He sucks in a shaky breath, as if those words pain him.
“I love you too,” he replies quietly. “With all my heart.”
We hold on to each other in silence. Occasionally, Ash rubs his thumb over my palm, subconsciously drawing two hearts on it. One for him, one for me. How much longer do we have? How many more moments in each other’s arms? It doesn’t seem fair that we’ve barely had any time together. But these have all been stolen moments, with a stolen heart. Is this nature’s way of trying to redress the balance? Sorrow weighs down on my shoulders until I think it’s going to crush me. I turn my head from him, worried that he’ll see the yellowing of my eyes.
Over the next few hours, the trailer’s rocking gets less noticeable, until it’s just a gentle sway. The temperature inside the vehicle drops by a few degrees, confirming that we’ve left the Barren Lands and are now in the Provinces. Elijah yawns, tired and bored. I get up, feeling slightly better, and I find some fresh clothes—a Sentry guard’s uniform that’s a size too big for me—and put them on. I suddenly remember my heart medication and the document I took from the science lab at the Barren Lands camp, and retrieve them from my discarded pants and slip them into my bag.
“So how are we going to rescue Sigur?” I say. It’s time we addressed this.
“We’re not,” Ash says simply.
“But he’s your Blood Father.”
“He wouldn’t want us to abandon the mission,” Ash replies.
“But—”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Natalie,” he says firmly. “We’re not going to save him. It’s what Purian Rose would expect us to do.”
Ash pulls a robe over himself, like he’s going to sleep. Conversation over.
I take one of the lanterns and walk to the other end of the long trailer, giving us both some breathing space before I say something I’ll regret. It’s Ash’s choice what we do about Sigur, but that doesn’t mean I agree with him. I hide in a nook between two towers of crates. A moment later, Elijah slips in beside me. It’s really cramped in the nook, and his tail tickles my toes, but I don’t mind so much. His golden eyes glimmer in the orange light.
“I can’t believe Ash doesn’t want to rescue Sigur,” I say. “He’s probably being tortured as we speak.”
“Probably,” Elijah admits. “But Ash is right; Rose will expect us to attempt a rescue mission, and that would be suicide. We can’t break into Centrum unarmed and unprepared.”
“We should at least try,” I mutter. “If you were being held captive, wouldn’t you want us to save you?”
“Of course, but I’m a little self-centered,” Elijah says.
I manage a laugh. “You, self-centered? Never.”
Elijah grins. It looks good on him. I bet he isn’t short of female attention back home. It’s not just his good looks, but underneath his pompous outer shell is a sweet guy.
“Do you have anyone special waiting for you? Like, a girlfriend?” I ask him, curious to know more about his life.
He smirks. “Why? Are you jealous, pretty girl?”
“Urgh, never mind,” I say. “Sorry I said anything.”
“No,” he says eventually. “There’s no one.”
I have to admit, I’m surprised.
“I’d have thought the Consul’s son would have girls falling at his feet,” I say.
“Yes, well, obviously. But I’m not interested in those sorts of girls.” He distractedly plays with the gold bands around his wrists, and I sense he doesn’t want to talk about home anymore. “Are you feeling any better?” he asks, keeping his voice low so Ash can’t hear us.
I nod. Although I’m feeling rotten, it’s not from the illness.
“Ash is in a mood with me, and I don’t know why,” I whisper. “Has he said anything to you?”
“He thinks we’re sleeping together,” Elijah says.
“What? Why?” I say, my mind racing.
Elijah relates what Ash told him. “He obviously didn’t hear our whole conversation in the lab.”
“You didn’t tell him?” I say.
“I promised you I wouldn’t,” he says. “But you have to tell him the truth at some point.”
“I will.”
“When?”
“When the time’s right,” I say. “I can’t tell him now, not with everything that’s happened with Sigur. Plus we’re in the middle of a mission . . .”
“You’re making excuses.”
“No I’m not,” I say.
“Yes you are.”
I sigh. “Maybe I am. But I just need some time. I’m not ready for our relationship to be over.”
“He won’t break up with you just because you’re sick.”
“No, he loves me too much to do that,” I reply. “And that’s exactly why I’ll have to break up with him. I don’t want him to see me die. He’s suffered enough.”
I glance through the gaps in the crates and watch Ash sleeping. His black hair gently ripples around his pale face, and his lips are slightly parted, revealing the tips of his fangs. He seems at peace, for now, although I know it’s not going to last long. I lightly touch the engagement ring still hanging from my gold necklace. We were going to spend the rest of our lives together, and now . . .
“I don’t want to say good-bye to him just yet,” I whisper. “Given the speed at which the symptoms are coming on, I think I’ve got a couple of months before I get really sick. We should finish the mission first, then I’ll tell him when we get to Centrum.”
“The longer you leave it, the harder it’ll be on him.”
“Not if I gently ease myself out of his life,” I say, a plan formulating in my mind. “If I slowly distance myself from him over the next few weeks, then it won’t be so hard on him when I go. Plus, if I wait until we’re in Centrum to break up with him, he’ll have Beetle there to pick up the pieces.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“Elijah, please,” I say. “Let me do it my way, in my own time.”
“What if your symptoms come on faster than you think?”
“Then I’ll have to tell him, obviously,” I say.
Elijah leans back against the wooden crate. “All right,” he finally says. “But how do I explain what he overheard in the laboratory?”
“I . . .” This has me stumped. “I don’t know.”
I don’t like the idea of Ash thinking I’m cheating on him with Elijah, but it will be easier for him to let me go if he thinks my feelings toward him have changed.
Elijah lets out another sigh, clearly guessing my thoughts. “If he asks me about it again, I won’t deny his accusations, but I won’t exactly confirm them either, okay?”
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “I’m really sorry to put you in the middle of all this, Elijah.”
He gives me a tight smile. “Yeah, well, if he punches me again, then the deal’s off.”
“Whe
n did he punch you?” I say, surprised.
“Back at the concentration camp,” he says.
“Oh,” I reply. “Sorry.”
He shrugs. “I probably deserved it. I have been flirting with you.”
My cheeks flood with color.
“I probably shouldn’t have told you that,” he says, his own face flushing.
“No, it’s fine,” I reply, but I’m suddenly painfully aware of his leg pressed up against mine. “I thought Amy was more your type,” I add, remembering how he flirted with her back at the Ivy Church.
“She’s cute,” he replies. “But I have a thing for girls who save my life.”
I blush harder. I saved his life twice, in fact. The first time when I helped him escape the Sentry laboratory, and the second time back on the train, when I killed that Wrath.
“I suppose guys hit on you all the time,” he says.
I laugh. “Hardly. I’m not one of those leggy models from Sentry Youth Monthly.”
A crease furrows between his russet brows. “You have no idea how people see you, do you?”
I shake my head. “How do they see me?”
“You’re the girl who shouted ‘No Fear, No Power’ in front of the whole nation,” he replies. “You’re beautiful, and you’re brave. Don’t you see how guys might develop a crush on you?”
I laugh, embarrassed.
“Sorry,” he mumbles. “I don’t seem to have a filter between my brain and mouth sometimes.”
“It’s all right.” I take his hand. “Really. I’m flattered.”
He gazes down at our clasped hands. “Yeah, well, you should be. I’m quite the catch.” I know he means it as a joke, but his voice is flat.
I laugh, trying to keep the mood light, but I don’t know what to say. Elijah is a sweet guy underneath the arrogant veneer, and clearly very attractive, but my heart belongs to one boy.