Eleven #2
“Maybe we can do the same. Just hold my hand, and we’ll work together, but we have to do it now.”
With one hand in Marissa’s, I raise the other, and she lifts her spare.
I don’t need to dig deep; my Mana is bubbling just below the surface.
I summon it to my fingertips and create the strongest shield I can imagine.
I force the light into every inch of space, covering the opening fully.
Marissa's fingers glow gold, but she's too panicked to push the light beyond her skin.
I’m about to encourage her when the wave hits.
The impact is cataclysmic. The world shakes, the stone screeching like it’s going to crumble.
Marissa‘s fingers lose their glow, and she rips her hand from mine, covering her ears as she screams.
I yank my arm out from where it’s stuck beneath her body and use both hands to channel as much of my power into the barrier as possible.
The golden light pulses as the water churns against my shield, fighting to get inside.
Tiny jets of water spray my face as they sneak through the gaps at the border.
Concentrate. Fill the gaps.
Marissa continues to shriek. The noise is deafening, her high-pitched wail mixing with the roar of the wave.
A humming resonates beneath my skin. There is Mana in the wave, remnants of the Mother Shard’s magic.
I can feel it searching, looking for us.
Marissa is sobbing now. “We’re going to die.”
She presses herself against me hard enough to hurt.
My shield cracks, golden light spraying out in bursts. A streak of salty water leaks through, splashing into my eyes and filling my mouth. I can’t see; I can’t breathe. I focus everything on keeping the shield intact.
Then, just as suddenly, the water recedes.
I collapse the shield and it fizzles away to nothing as I strain for breath. I watch as the rest of the water sluices off into the chasm beneath the shelf.
Marissa coughs, then starts laughing—high-pitched and manic, the laughter of someone who has reached their limit and can’t believe what’s happening around them.
We shuffle our way out of the small cavern, and I immediately look for Rask and Orla, but they are gone. There is a streak of blood and a swathe of dark green fabric on a sharp outcropping on the far side of the walkway, but nothing else.
The world has gone quiet, almost peaceful. I close my eyes and listen to my heart, waiting for it to slow down.
Marissa whispers, “Are we alive?”
“Just barely,” I manage, nodding weakly.
My mouth tastes of salt, and I blink against the sensation of sand and grit beneath my burning eyelids.
We drag ourselves up and over a nearby ledge, and I see that we are much closer to the Mother Shard than before.
From up here, the shape finally makes sense. The island is divided into sections circling the Mother Shard. The closer we get to the centre, the less ground we'll need to cover when the next wave comes.
I don’t see Rask or Orla anywhere. The Mother Shard still bears a shining one, so they must have survived the wave somehow too.
“Let’s go,” I say.
Marissa doesn’t respond. She just takes my hand and follows.
The world feels empty except for the sound of our breathing.
The rocky corridors twist left and right, narrowing with every step. The island seems determined to herd us towards the centre, but we resist as best we can. The closer we get to the Mother Shard, the more likely we are to find other Offerings. Or be found.
I think about Callen, surrounded by enemies. I try not to relish the thought. Instead, I focus on putting one foot in front of the other.
Eventually, we emerge from a narrow pass and nearly trip over the Airborn boys. The three of them are sprawled beside a deep pit in the rock. Fen is on the ground, knees tucked to his chest. Alaris has him gripped by the collar, while Sorin paces nearby.
"What’s going on here?" I ask.
Fen’s head whips up. His eyes are bloodshot—feral.
“He won’t let me fucking do it,” he screams.
Alaris looks up at me, teeth gritted. “He’s lost it. He tried to jump.”
The pit yawns beside them.
Fen laughs and the sound is ugly. “Why shouldn’t I?”
No one answers.
"We're all dead already."
"Shut up," Alaris snaps.
"No. You shut up," Fen says as he tears himself loose. "I don't want to do this anymore."
The clearing falls silent. Even Alaris doesn't have an answer for that.
Marissa speaks for the first time in ages, her voice frail and tired. “I don’t think you’re allowed to... to—um, kill yourself, that is.”
Fen stares at her. “I’ll do whatever I want. My family will get their gold, and I’ll be dead. Why is everyone making it so complicated?”
Marissa shakes her head slightly. “The Overseers said on the very first day, death must come at another’s hand.”
Fen spits at the ground, then turns his gaze to me. “Then someone else kill me.”
His eyes find mine. "Please."
I shake my head, unsettled by the desperation in his voice. “I don’t want to kill anyone. What makes you think I even could?”
Sorin chooses this moment to speak, his voice oddly calm. “If he wants to jump, let him.”
His eyes are locked on the horizon. I wonder if they know what’s coming, if they’ve seen the wave.
“What are you talking about?” Alaris snaps, rounding on him. “If he jumps, it just makes us easier targets.”
Fen laughs bitterly. “What a selfish prick. Do you want me to live because you care, or am I just another body for your shield?”
“Of course I care.” Something in Alaris’ face crumples. “We’re Airborn. We volunteered for this shit. I thought we’d do this together.”
“I just don’t think I have it in me,” Fen replies softly.
None of us have anything to say.
Marissa edges closer to me.
“We need to move,” she whispers. “The next wave could come at any time.”
She’s right. It’s not safe to stop.
Sorin turns back to face us. “You’ve seen it too, haven’t you? The wave? We just avoided being swept away when the last one hit.”
He wraps his arms around himself, shivering even though the sun is still blazing. “It was like it had a mind of its own, like it was chasing us.”
Nausea rolls through me.
I’m trying to force it down when something flickers at the edge of my vision.
A faint Mana Echo bleeds into the world, like a dream coming to life.
Two figures stand beside the pit. They move without sound, sharp gestures cutting through the air.
One points into the cavernous hole below, while the other shakes their head.
A heartbeat later, one of them turns—and jumps.
The second reacts instantly, dropping flat, fingers locking around a wrist. Their body slams hard against the stone, boots scraping uselessly for purchase as the jumper swings over the void.
For a moment, it looks like they might succeed and bring the other back over the edge. Their muscles strain, shoulders trembling as their grip tightens. The one hanging reaches up with their free hand—not to climb, though, just to hold the other person’s arm. A shared moment of quiet. Then—
Their fingers slip, and the jumper is gone.
The one left behind doesn’t move at first; they just lie there, arm still outstretched over the pit as if their body hasn’t quite registered what has happened.
They begin to shake, silent sobs racking their body.
Their forehead presses against the stone, and their fingers claw at the ground in grief.
The image flickers and resets. They are standing again, arguing again, jumping again, falling again. I don’t realise I’ve stopped breathing until Marissa grabs my arm.
Alaris pulls Fen to his feet, practically ripping his arms off.
“Is that what you want?” he asks.
Sorin trails behind them, eyes glazed. Marissa and I take the lead, but I can't stop seeing the survivor's outstretched hand.
“We should get to higher ground,” Marissa suggests. “Maybe the wave won’t be able to reach us if we go high enough.”
She gestures towards a plateau in the distance, directly in front of the Mother Shard, but the glare off the sun-slick, black stone obscures my vision as the sun begins its descent.
I don't correct her. Hope is keeping her moving. And right now, that's enough.
We walk in silence. The plateau is closer than it looked, but the last stretch is almost vertical—a wall of dark, glassy rock crisscrossed with sharp edges.
Three figures wait at the top.
They wear identical pale-blue uniforms. I don’t recognise them at first—back in the Embrace they wore their own clothes.
The Waterborn kneel in a line facing the ocean, the Mother Shard at their backs. The golden number one glows like a scar as they pray, hands clasped, faces serene, eyes closed.
“Do you think they know what’s coming?” Marissa asks.
I’m about to answer when the rocks behind us explode. I turn to see Rask, alone and soaked, blood running from a gash that stretches from brow to cheek. He lumbers towards us, knuckles practically dragging on the ground. Orla is not with him, but in his hands, he wields a hefty stone club.
“Motherfucker—give us a break,” Alaris curses.
Rask roars and charges at us. I don’t have time to think. I shove Marissa sideways, diving with her behind a sturdy-looking pillar. The Airborn scatter, but Fen isn’t quick enough—Rask catches him with one hand, slamming him into the ground. He rears back the club.
I throw myself from cover and let light erupt from my hands.
A golden dome snaps into existence around Fen just as the club comes down.
The club rebounds, taking Rask by surprise. He grunts and tries again, swinging it at Fen’s head.
The shield shatters into splinters of gold on impact.
My skin hums as the wind suddenly picks up. Sorin and Alaris thrust their hands forward, and a blast of air tears Rask off Fen, sending him crashing onto his back. The club slips from Rask’s grip as he falls.
“We’ll hold him off,” Alaris shouts. “You two get to the Waterborn and warn them about the wave.”
I nod, even as my throat tightens.
We climb, leaving the three boys behind. I dig in with my fingers and haul myself up each ledge. Below us, the fight dissolves into crashing stone, shouted curses, and screams.