Chapter 17 #2
From this high up, I know magic isn’t strong enough to carry the people all the way down. We’re several storeys high, forty metres at least, and my telekinesis goes about thirty before sputtering out.
‘I’m going to jump there.’ I point to where the loop begins to gentle out. ‘Once I’m there, you start unbuckling people. I’ll catch them and lower them to the ground.’
‘The bombs have been crumbling entire rides, though. Even if you put them down, we’re still in the middle of the fallout zone. Once you lower them, I need you to run and get them away as quickly as possible.’ Through Lune’s faceplate, Tia’s brows are knitted, and it hits me how terrified she is.
‘You’re going to be okay?’ I ask, before I can stop myself.
The timer hits a minute and fifty-nine seconds. ‘Raven, we do not have time. Go.’
I lower myself until I’m holding the track like monkey bars, and let go. Gravity takes me swiftly as my gut drops, but I react fast enough to cushion my fall with telekinesis. ‘Okay, drop them!’
I watch Lune make quick work of unbuckling safety belts despite the protests of the riders.
It’s hard to see so high up, but I imagine myself casting out a general net of force, and brace myself as the first person lands in the forcefield.
The sudden weight feels like catching someone, though my magic alleviates some of the impact.
It’d be funnier watching people drop like flies, if not for the fact that I can hear Lune arguing with someone up there. One of the civilians glares at me upon landing.
Do not drop him. It’s okay. People are assholes.
I’m more concerned about my girlfriend, who’s struggling to release the last person from her seat. A woman has clung on to her seatbelt and hangs on desperately, her legs kicking air, refusing to fall.
My throat runs dry. I don’t need to see or hear Lune to know she’s begging the woman to let go.
I slip a dagger from my belt and, using one hand to keep the forcefield going, I throw the dagger with the other. I can’t throw a knife forty metres, but I can boost it with a little bit of telekinesis, and the knife arcs perfectly to slice the seatbelt clean.
The woman falls, and I catch her. ‘You have a death wish,’ I snap, but I finally lower everyone to the floor.
Lune’s already scrambling to handle the bomb again.
‘Time!’ I yell up at her.
‘Forty-eight seconds!’ Lune shouts down.
That is not enough. ‘Can you control the bomb yet?’
‘Not if you keep distracting me!’ Lune is hunched over the bomb, as if she’s trying to tank the entire thing by herself. ‘Stay down there. If I don’t succeed, use telekinesis to protect the civilians!’
Something in me snaps. She’s not going to make it.
The civilians are staring, so I shout for them to run, but they scatter uselessly. No time for this. Shifting my focus back to the bomb, I sprint back up the track towards Lune.
‘What are you doing?’ Lune hisses. ‘Get back down there.’
‘I’m not letting you do this alone.’ The timer ticks down to under ten seconds. ‘Lune, I need you to be very, very honest. Are you sure you can even stop the bomb?’
Lune whips me a glare. ‘I’ll die trying – as if you care. Go down and protect the rest.’
The clock hits three. Lune boots a leg out to kick me off the track, but I dodge her.
Two.
I grab Lune round the waist.
‘I said them, not me,’ Lune spits.
‘You’re the one on top of a fucking bomb.’
And that’s all I get out before I hear the bomb tick down to one and I fling us off the track.
The explosion rips the world apart.
I dimly register Lune curling around me, her armour taking the hit of any debris. Even mid-air, feeling as if my insides have just been ripped apart, Lune protects me.
At the speed we’re going, I know she doesn’t have the time to activate her blasters, so I throw a hand out and bolster our landing with telekinesis.
In the time it took us to fall, the rollercoaster has begun crumbling. When we touch ground, our feet land amongst debris, and I divert a chunk of track from falling on Lune’s head.
But she’s already running off, dodging falling metal as she searches the rubble desperately.
She twists back to me, her eyes wide behind her mask. ‘Help me!’
It takes a second for me to register her words.
I’m not a Sentinel. I didn’t come here to help these people.
I came here to make sure Tia was okay. My feet tug me to leave – every extra second I spend standing here is another second I’m at severe risk of being crushed by the collapsing rollercoaster.
‘Raven!’ Lune calls, planting her hands around a gigantic fragment of rollercoaster track. ‘Help me lift this – someone’s under here.’
In the distance, sirens wail.
I can’t . . . I need to go. This isn’t what Raven was made for. The Foxes are people of selfish loyalty, and the authorities are coming. The police, the ambulance – Lune has enough help, and I’m in enough danger.
I take several steps back as she struggles to free a man from under the track.
As the first ambulance arrives on scene, I turn and run.
But I don’t even get to the border of the theme park before Lune crash-lands in front of me and rips her helmet off, Tia’s chest wild and heaving.
‘What is wrong with you?’ she snaps. Her fury is so unexpected that I freeze, and we stand in the shelter of a line of trees as Tia takes a charged step towards me. ‘Why didn’t you stay?’
I will myself not to step back. ‘Why would you expect me to? I happened to save your life. Don’t think it means I’d do the same for anyone else,’ I shoot back. The words come out breathless, and it’s only then I realize how much I’m panting, how hard my heart slams into my chest.
‘I didn’t ask you to save me.’ Tia stands over me, her face dappled in the shadows of the overhanging trees, her jaw clenched, her eyes sheened with tears. ‘I told you, civilians and Harper. You saved me and you endangered a whole group of innocent people. Why?’
There’s no way to tell the truth. ‘You saved me once.’
‘That doesn’t matter. You—’ A sob breaks out of Tia and she pushes her bangs out of her face, her bottom lip trembling. ‘We could have saved everyone. They could have been okay. Now there’s a man buried under rubble and I—’
Her voice breaks.
‘I’m not a Sentinel. Those people don’t matter to me.’ You matter most, I want to say, but I can’t.
Tia plants both hands on my shoulders and shoves me back so hard that I stumble. ‘I told you not to save me. There were people who might’ve survived if you’d just listened.’
‘So what?’
‘So what?’ Tia barks incredulously. ‘Now their lives are on me. Your recklessness might’ve killed them. Was it on purpose? The bombs? The park? Are you proud of yourself?’
‘What? No.’ I tug at the medallion on my neck to feel its burn on my skin – anything to distract from the searing hurt in my chest. ‘Why are you so mad?’
‘I’m a Sentinel!’ Tears streak down Tia’s cheeks. ‘I’m supposed to protect these people with my life. Any casualty is on me. I don’t want to be saved over them. Damn it, Raven.’
I have to take deep breaths to calm down, force my lungs not to take air in so quick and shallow, anything to convince myself Tia doesn’t hate me.
But it’s clear how she feels in the way her face twists as she looks at me, in the way she swipes her tears off her cheeks so violently.
When she looks at me again, her eyes are poisonous, her shoulders hunched. ‘Forget it. You make me sick. Where’s Harper? Because if you didn’t make sure she was safe before helping me, I might actually kill you.’
It feels like being punched in the gut. ‘Like I said, she’s safe.’
A final glare.
‘Just know I’m sparing you today because you did help. But I hope your heartlessness haunts you for the rest of your miserable life,’ Tia spits. Her fists clench and unclench, her nostrils flaring, before she leaves with a scoff. As she storms away, she whips her phone from her pocket.
My phone vibrates in my pocket the moment she puts the phone to her ear. With shaking hands, I text Tia: Meet you at Lain.
With Tia distracted, I slip back into the shadows.
Every sense is numb. I feel nothing as I stuff Raven’s sweat-crusted uniform into my backpack. I don’t remember calling for a car, but I remember getting in one and getting out at Lain Co.
When I arrive at the penthouse, there’s someone sitting on the couch, the news flashing across her face in whites and reds, the TV muted.
Tia turns to me in the doorway. She has puffy eyes, tear-stained cheeks. ‘Hey.’
I brace for Tia’s vitriol.
But you’re not Raven now.
The distance between us seems to drift, going from incredibly far to nothing at all. I stand in front of Tia, creating a shadow that blocks the news out, casting Tia’s face in darkness.
‘Can I have a hug?’ she whispers, and her voice breaks. ‘I’m really sorry.’
I crumple into Tia’s arms, and the world crashes back like a wave. I pretend Tia is saying sorry for calling me heartless, for accusing me of everything that’s happened, for casting me a look of disgust so venomous that it felt like being stabbed. For hurting Raven to protect Harper.
It would be too strange to sob into Tia’s shoulder, so I pinch my lips together and keep it in until my shoulders shake.
‘Are you okay?’ Tia says into my shirt, her voice shaking.
‘I’m terrified,’ I say, with my hands tangled in the fabric and our bodies pressed together, inseparable.
‘I’m terrified we’re too different and it’s never going to work out.
I’m terrified you’ll hate me if you ever know all of me, and I’m terrified you’ll realize it one day and you’ll look me in the eyes and tell me we’re done, and there’ll be nothing I can even do about it, because you’ll be right. ’
Of course, I say none of that out loud. I bury my face in the crook of Tia’s neck and hug her as tight as I can, hoping it’ll drown out every voice in my head.
‘Kit?’ Tia runs her hand through my hair, rubs circles against my back. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I think I’ve had a really long day.’
‘Me too,’ Tia whispers back, and then she’s crying again. ‘Me too.’
My phone buzzes in my back pocket, but the only other people who’d want to contact me now are the Foxes. After today, I don’t really want to be reminded of Raven at all.
I switch my phone off and lean into Tia, pressing our foreheads together.
Everything else can wait. Even if it means I might have to give up everything I’ve known or belonged to for the last few years, I can’t keep hurting Tia. Not like this.
For now, Raven is gone.
TIA
The room is dark, quiet, yet I can’t sleep. When I do drift off, I wade through a haze and only stop when I feel Harper’s forehead against my chest, a familiar hand resting against my waist.
This is too dependent, I hear my mother’s voice saying.
But it’s been a hard day, and this feels like coming home. Whatever rift there was between us has been sewn back together, repaired by the assurance of each other’s company, and I fall asleep feeling as if we’re finally right again.