Glass Sword (Red Queen #2)(88)

As usual, Farley is the first out of her seat. “Good luck with that one, Nan,” she says, jabbing a finger at Gareth. “If you liked this, you’re going to love what he does.”

“I don’t like that smile, little miss,” Nanny says in Laris’s voice.

Though I’ve seen her transform before, I’m still not used to the strange sight.

Gareth laughs next to Nanny, helping her from her seat. “Farley flew with me last. Made a real mess of my boots when we touched down.”

“I did no such thing,” Farley replies, but she stalks down the length of the jet quickly. Probably to hide her flushing face. Shade follows her as he always does, trying to smother his laughter with his hand. She’s been ill lately and has done her best to hide it, to everyone’s amusement.

Cal and I are the last left on the plane, though I have no cause to wait for him. He goes through the usual motions, twisting knobs and flipping switches that turn off different parts of the jet in rapid succession. I feel each one sink into electrical death, until the low hum of full batteries is all that remains. The silence pounds in time with my beating heart, and suddenly I can’t get off the jet fast enough. Something frightens me about being alone with Cal, at least in daylight. But when night falls, there’s no one I’d rather see.

“You should talk to Kilorn.”

His voice stops me midstep, frozen halfway down the back ramp.

“I don’t want to talk to him.”

Heat rises with every moment, as he gets closer and closer to me.

“Funny, you’re usually such a good liar.”

I spin to find myself staring at his chest. The flight suit, pristine when he put it on more than a month ago, now shows distinct signs of wear. Even though he does his best to steer clear of our battles, battle has touched him still.

“I know Kilorn better than you, and nothing I say will snap him out of his little tantrum.”

“Do you know he asks to come with us?” His eyes are dark, heavy-lidded. He looks like he does in the moments before he falls asleep. “He asks me every night.”

My time at the Notch has made me blunt and easy to read. I don’t doubt Cal sees the confusion I feel, or the low currents of jealousy.

“He speaks to you? He won’t talk to me because of you, so why on earth would he—”

Suddenly his fingers are under my chin, tilting my head so I can’t look away. “It’s not me he’s mad at. He’s not angry because we . . .” And then it’s his turn to trail off. “He respects you enough to make your own choices.”

“He told me as much.”

“But you don’t believe him.” My silence is answer enough. “I know why you think you can’t trust anyone—by my colors, I know. But you can’t go through this alone. And don’t say you have me, because we both know you don’t believe that either.” The pain in his voice nearly flattens me. His fingers shake, shivering against me.

Slowly, I pull my face out of his grasp. “I wasn’t going to.” A half lie. I feel no claim over Cal, and won’t let myself trust him, but I can’t distance myself from him either. Every time I try, I find myself wandering back.

“He isn’t a child, Mare. You don’t have to protect him anymore.”

To think, all this time, Kilorn has been angry because I want to keep him alive. I almost laugh at the idea. How dare I do such a thing?

How dare I want to keep him safe? “Then bring him along next time. Let him stumble into a grave.” I know he hears the tremor in my voice, but politely pretends to ignore it. “And since when do you care about him?”

I barely hear his answer as I walk away. “I’m not saying this for his sake.”

Down on the runway, the others are waiting. Farley busies herself strapping Nanny to Gareth’s chest, using a jerry-rigged harness from one of the jet seats, but Shade is staring at his feet. He heard every word, judging by the stern set of his features. He glares at me as we pass, but says nothing. I’ll be in for another scolding later, but for now, our focus turns toward Pitarus and hopefully another successful recruitment.

“Arms in, head down,” Gareth says, instructing Nanny. Before our eyes, she morphs from the bulky Lord General into her much smaller, thinner self. She tightens the straps accordingly.

“Lighter this way,” she explains with a tiny giggle. After long days of serious talk and restless nights, the sight makes me laugh outright. I can’t help it, and have to cover my mouth with my hand.

Gareth awkwardly pats the top of her head. “You never cease to amaze, Nan. Feel free to shut your eyes.”

She shakes her head. “Had shut eyes my whole life,” she says.

“Never again.”

When I was a child, dreaming of flying like a bird, I never imagined anything like this. Gareth’s legs don’t bend, his muscles don’t tense. He doesn’t push off the ground. Instead, his palms flatten, paral-lel to the runway, and he simply starts to lift. I know the gravity around him is loosening, a thread being untied. He rises with Nanny strapped close, faster and faster, until he’s merely a speck in the sky. And then the thread tightens, pulling the little dot along the earth, up and down in smooth, rolling arcs. Loose, then tight, until they disappear over the nearest ridge. From down here, it almost looks peaceful, but I doubt I’ll ever find out firsthand. The jet is flight enough for me.