35. Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter thirty-five
I hold my side as I move towards Quillian and the others. His gaze flicks to my hand and back to Holland.
‘They with you?’ he asks, no hint of disbelief in his voice.
I look back at Holland and the one whose name I don’t know – the one who stabbed Zenaton as I watched.
I nod slowly. ‘I think so, yeah.’
‘I definitely can’t portal this many people,’ Cortane says, some of her swagger gone. ‘And we’re really fucking overdue here.’ She rounds on Quillian. ‘I waited. Now you can choose who is left behind.’
My heart lurches into my throat and I find Blossom’s gaze. It’s still hurt. Angry. But at least she’s looked for me, too.
‘You know we’re not leaving without everyone here, Cort,’ River says gently.
‘They’re not part of us yet, asshole,’ she replies. ‘Until then, I can leave whoever the fuck I like.’
Nix looks at me like he’s torn between being proud and wanting to kill me. When the light catches in his auburn hair, I realise how close to dawn we are.
‘If that blood on his blade isn’t Luka’s,’ Nix says, pointing at the second hunter. ‘Then I think it’s safe to assume they’ve all done enough to prove they’re with us. For now.’
A crashing of foliage nearby makes me jump. The others simply turn in that direction and raise their blades again. The Hunters included.
‘Are we too late?’ Emeris calls through the trees.
I almost cry with relief but a garbled laugh bubbles from my throat. Blossom throws herself at him and he hugs her hard as he breaks the treeline. His finely muscled forearm squeezing around her back.
Finn emerges, silently followed by three other, terrified looking, concierges – Shiloh, and Koko, and the violinist, who throws me a wink. I can’t help but laugh at him, even as the rage that flooded my body when confronting Zenaton hasn’t quite subsided. But it’s making way for something else as well. Something a little like hope.
Cortane turns slowly on her heel, the fire in the distance reflected in her eyes.
‘Any more strays you wish to bring along?’ she grinds out.
‘No,’ I say, grinning. ‘I think this is all of us.’
I watch as Blossom and River start talking animatedly to Nix and pointing along parts of the ground where we stand. The warm touch of Quillian’s fingers on mine draws my attention away and I turn into him.
‘You waited,’ I say, all trace of a smile gone from my face. Instead, a surge of cool relief so powerful that I almost sob races through me. But I try not to examine what powered it.
‘I didn’t have a choice,’ he says quietly.
I deflate a little.
‘Nix or Blossom?’ I ask.
He laughs a little, the darkness in his green eyes receding a fraction.
‘Well, they were both pretty adamant. But, no,’ he says as he takes my hand and raises it to the middle of his chest.
Holland clears his throat and I look away from Quillian, cheeks aflame.
‘I take it there is some kind of plan here?’ he asks.
Quillian’s fingers tighten around mine but it’s Blossom that responds.
‘Yes,’ she says.
Cortane mock bows at her, throwing her arms wide before she rises and pins Quillian with a glare.
‘We need everyone over here,’ Blossom says, pointing to the very edge of the island. ‘You’ll need to be seated and with enough room around you that you can move a bit. We don’t want anyone getting bumped off.’
The blood drains from the other Hunter’s face and he mutters under his breath.
‘Alright?’ Holland asks, a touch of laughter in his voice as he slaps the second Hunter on the back.
‘You’ve led me blindly into this with zero warning,’ he says. ‘And if we’re about to do what I think we are … no, I’m not fucking alright.’
‘It wasn’t quite zero warning,’ Holland says. ‘We’ve talked about this shit enough to take a leap – and the opportunity presented itself.’
Blossom ignores him as she directs the other concierges to the space, Emeris on the outside, the sheer drop illuminating his face with seeming glee. She directs the nervous Hunter to the middle of the group and Quillian and the others make a ring around us, with Nix closest to the rest of the island.
Nix drops to his knees and I do a quick head count, catching River’s gaze and finding him doing the same thing. Blossom moves into place as she casts her eye over all of us and he subtly positions himself between her and the rest of the island … what is about to become the edge of a much smaller island.
‘Sit,’ Blossom commands. Something only the Hunters and concierges obey. I hold tight to Quillian’s hand, unable to step away.
The ground starts to shudder underneath us, and I look back at Nix and the island beyond. The flames of the prison now caress the pink sky where the sun is starting to rise, washing the island in a pastel glow.
‘How do we know if the wards are down?’ I ask Janly.
She looks up at me, her brows furrowed. ‘We don’t.’
‘Nix is going to take us as far as he can at this height,’ Blossom adds, not looking at me. ‘We’ll try to go over them.’
I glance at the sweat already running down Nix’s neck, the veins pulsing in his forehead under the strain.
He pushes hard into the ground and a deafening crack makes me cover my ears, pressing my palms against my head, until the tiny piece of land we’re on tears away from the main island and starts to float in the sky, away from the prison.
A slow exhale leaves my lips. And I’m not the only one that stares back at the island, a gaping wound now in her side where we used to stand. I’ve never seen it from this perspective before, and the inverted dip of her base, all dark soil, exposed rocks and trailing roots, gives me pause. Above, she is blues and greens and the red of my favourite flowers. The forest diminishing in size as we drift further away.
It’s hard not to think of Nuntainia as I watch her disappear. Of how much darkness is underneath our pretty exterior.
Nix grunts as he holds our height and pushes the piece of land along.
‘He can’t hold this for long,’ I whisper to Blossom who has ended up beside me.
I glance around. The Hunters now both have their eyes tightly shut while the concierges are looking around in wonder, and it’s clear now how much the open-air receiving plane has prepared us for this moment. All that practice of being on a platform in the sky.
‘Jan,’ I say, watching Nix’s shirt soak with sweat and his muscles tremble. ‘Are you sure there’s no way we can tell about the wards? We need to be able to drop down, now.’
She shakes her head at me, still looking at Nix. ‘Not unless someone goes through them.’
We’re silent a moment, perhaps all of us reflecting on how unfair that seems after everything. I could reconcile it before – when it was just me, Blossom, and the others. People who made a choice. People who knew we were likely to be marked. But Emeris, Finn – who I now know was part of the group all along – the concierges they brought here. Even the Hunters that got me here in the end. None of them deserve that.
‘I’ll go,’ Quillian says beside me.
I spin to him.
‘What?’
‘I’ll go. It’s the right move.’ The last part he says more quietly, as if it’s meant just for me – to reassure me. I stare at him.
‘It makes the most sense, Lu,’ River says. ‘Wards or no wards, he can come back and tell us. It’s best we have a healer on hand, just in case.’
Nix breathes heavily and River runs his hands through his hair.
‘Can’t you help him?’ I ask.
‘Not in any real way. Not yet. This chunk of dirt is too big for me. I wouldn’t even be able to push it along.’
‘But you said you were elite,’ I say, knowing full well I am clutching at straws.
Holland smiles grimly, even with his eyes closed.
‘They are, sweetheart,’ he says. ‘But even the elite have limits. And this island would be heavy as fuck.’
Quillian and Finn share a look.
‘It’s okay, Luka,’ Quillian says, and the pain in my ribs suddenly seems so manageable compared to the one racing between my breasts.
‘You’ll be marked,’ I say.
‘Which will only make my position in this world more formal in their view. I already know what side I’m on. Who I am.’
I drop his hand and step away, sucking in the cool air to help me focus. I search the island for another way. But Nix’s drooping shoulders, Cortane’s arrogant stare, both tell me there is no other way.
My palms start to tingle and I press them against my chest as I turn on the spot. There has to—
‘Lu,’ Bloss says quietly, and I meet her gaze, finding the anchor she gives me. Her ocean coloured eyes are several shades darker than the expanse of sky we drift through. I don’t know if anyone else sees what’s written on her face, but I do. It’s the look she gave me when we first agreed to stop taking our magic dampener tipples. Meaning we are the only ones without magic currently running in our veins. The only ones who have a shot at getting any of us out of this with a chance at freedom.
Perhaps there is a blessing in having no magic after all, just like the herons.
River knows there’s something being decided here, even if he doesn’t know what, and he looks between us.
‘Here’s to honour,’ she whispers.
I swallow.
Without another word, we link hands and look out into the dawn. Quillian moves behind me and kisses my neck, a shiver running down my spine.
‘I’ll be straight back,’ he says, turning to Nix and saying something I don’t bother listening to.
‘See you soon,’ I say and grip Blossom’s hand.
The air whips around my face, my hair long since free of its binds. What remains of my dress is tattered and torn, ruined in a way that will never be fixed – much like my views of Nuntainia. And our government. And the prisoners we left with no refuge on the main island.
For those that prove the colour of their souls.
I look into the wide, open sky that’s always called to me and take one last breath before Blossom and I swan-dive into the unknown.