Brooke (Under the Never Sky, #2.5)(13)

But I believe it now. Perry and I had a beginning. We were bound to have an end. And I understand that we were great together sometimes, but what we had was flawed and maybe a little forced. Maybe it was something that I really wanted, but that wasn’t actually there.

Maybe the magic wasn’t in us. It was in my eyes.





7

Why do you get to go outside, but I can’t?” Clara asks me that evening.

“I have to,” I answer.

Clara blinks her wide blue eyes at me. “But I haven’t been outside in months and months and months.”

“You aren’t missing anything.”

“Yes, I am! I want to run on the sand! And it’s so dark in here.”

“It’s dangerous out there, Clara.”

Wylan and his band aren’t the only things I want to protect her from tonight. Outside, the Aether is raging, dropping funnels only a few miles from the cave. When the wind blows in from the right direction, it carries the smell of smoke from forest fires. It’s a measure of Perry and Reef’s concern that they’re sending us out there tonight. They wouldn’t put the patrol at risk unless they had legitimate fears about Wylan returning.

Clara crosses her arms and makes a sulky face, like she is five instead of eight. She thinks it’ll melt me, seeing her act so young. Like the sweet, innocent little sister I lost. But my reaction is the opposite. At some point in the past year she learned to manipulate people, and that makes me want to hit something.

“Then why are you going?” she asks.

I’m not going to tell her about Wylan, so I drop a kiss on her head. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Brookie, please take me with you,” she says, her eyes filling with tears.

Those aren’t an act. They’re real, and my throat tightens up. “Clara, I have to do this. You know I wouldn’t leave you otherwise.”

Around the platform, people are watching us. The tribe has been shaken all day, worried that the Dwellers are faltering. The only thing we want less than sick Dwellers on our hands is dead Dwellers on our hands. Aria’s condition has rattled them as well. She pulled through her surgery, but it was close. She almost lost her arm. And judging by the restless glances thrown my way, the tribe has heard about Wylan and his band too.

It hasn’t been an easy day for anyone.

I can tell my tribe wants me outside, where my bow and my eyes can protect them. It’s where I need to be for Clara’s sake too. So I tell her that.

“I’m going out there for you, Clara. To keep you safe. I have to go now.” I hug her. Then, to take my mind off leaving her, I count my steps as I walk outside.

One, two, three . . . five . . . eleven . . . twenty.

Hayden falls in step with me when I reach forty-two. By ninety-seven we have stepped completely out of the cave. I pause on the small strip of sand and finally allow myself to look back.

Bad idea. The pull to return to my sister is immense. Strong, like I’m falling toward her. She needs me in there and she needs me out here, and how am I supposed to know what’s right? What’s best?

“Ready?” Hayden asks. He is watching me closely.

“I’m with you tonight?” My voice is sharp, like the crack of a whip.

I wonder if Hyde requested not to be with me. I wonder why I feel jilted and depressed when I was the one who balked at what he offered. Which was tenderness and poetry and smiling kisses.

Good job, Brooke. Because those things are all so horrible.

Can this day get any worse?

A laugh bursts out of Hayden. “I’m glad you’re so happy about it.” He gives me his back before I can respond, and breaks into a jog, threading his way up the steep switchback path to the bluff.

“Thrilled,” I mutter, catching up to him.

My walk with Hyde last night on this same trail felt contemplative, but Hayden attacks it. He is muscular and long-limbed like Hyde, but more energetic. Louder and more aggressive. The pace he sets forces me to focus on my footing and my breathing in order to keep up with him.

In minutes, sweat rolls down my spine, but I relish it. Since we’ve been in the cave, we haven’t run like this. Everyone is always shuffling around, looking miserable.

You can’t be miserable when you’re running. It’s such a simple and pure way to feel alive. As we put miles behind us, my mood begins to lift.

Gren and Reef aren’t far to the north, and Hyde and Straggler are just south of us. We have reinforced our patrol numbers in all posts, but most substantially here on the eastern approach—the shortest distance to the cave. If Wylan is coming, this would be the most direct path, the one that would give us the least amount of time to react. This is where we are most vulnerable, so Perry appointed the Six to guard it tonight—the Six and me.

I am with these warriors because I am one of the best, but that distinction brings me nothing but pride now. It’s an honor to be regarded as their equal.

After an hour of running, we stop to catch our breath and drink water. My eyes drift to the range of hills to the north, and dread seeps through me. The Aether looked fierce last night, but today its threats are not empty. The sky there flashes with funnels. Along the ridge below, a glowing orange line has appeared.

Fire.

Land is burning. Tide land. Mine.

I’ve been so focused on the trail ahead of me that I didn’t see it.