Chapter Eight
Yun
Usually wind elementals showed up to retrieve civilians, so it didn’t shock me when a pairing of two arrived about twenty minutes after everything had gone quiet.
Rebecca had woken, though she hadn’t said anything. Instead, she’d watched carefully as Kenyon had healed the youngest child, who’d ended up with a few burns to their hand despite Kenyon’s best efforts.
I’d avoided any burns, given Ingram had shifted us to the shadows just as the blast of heat had rushed out from the young girl. It hadn’t been a direct hit, which was why those who did get hurt had only sustained minor burns.
It didn’t seem Rebecca felt quite so relieved, though.
“So you’ll come with me,” one of the two espers said, speaking to Rebecca. “And they’ll take your siblings. We’ll travel fast, so we’ll be to the portal in just a minute or two.”
Rebecca nodded but refused to meet anyone’s gaze.
It made my chest hurt, reminding me of when I’d realized what I’d become, the loss of everything I’d thought I’d have in my life—it proved a heavy burden.
The esper who had spoken cast a sharp look our way, one full of disdain. I’d almost gotten used to those looks when we were still at the base. Maybe because we’d all been so busy with life, I’d stopped noticing the scathing glances, the barely concealed hatred, but here?
It stood out so much more clearly.
The two espers gathered the kids and took off, after dropping off more locators with us in case we needed them.
It had me turning toward Carter, unable to stop the questions that consumed me. “What happened?”
Carter itched his cheek and answered slowly. “Monsters attacked. You were there, Yun. What do you mean?”
“I mean last time in The Pitt. I know the story, but it’s not possible.”
“How can you say it isn’t possible? You know us.” He held out his arms, one of those fake smiles on his face. “We’re not exactly trustworthy.”
I shook my head. “You wouldn’t have risked yourself for them if you didn’t give a damn about saving people. You’re selfish, sure, but you don’t just leave civilians to die. I didn’t think what really happened mattered, but I need to know.”
Carter blew out a long breath, his smile fading, seeming to realize that there was no chance of getting out of this thing without answering me. “Okay, fine, but you’re not going to like what I have to say.”
“Not here,” Ingram added. “The ash isn’t that great to breathe in—feels like I’m eating sludge every time I take a fucking breath. Sounds like that way about ten minutes is a nice little shelter, already cleared out. Might as well take a break there and eat.”
“There’s nothing but meal bars,” Kenyon said. “Hardly a feast.”
Ingram held up a small bag full of chocolate, all individually wrapped. “The scouts always have these to help soothe children who are upset.”
“They gave them to you?” I asked.
He snorted, then shook his head. “Fuck no. They’d let me starve before giving me shit. Nah, I swiped ’em. They’ll check when they get back and get another bag—no harm, no foul, and we have not just candy, but the best kind of candy—stolen.”
I stared at him for a minute before laughing, because what else was there to do?
The walk took closer to fifteen minutes—none of us rushed, given that hadn’t been the easiest fight we’d just survived. Only Carter appeared unaffected, as though violence only hyped him up all the more.
Shear had recovered—a quick healing by Kenyon, and it didn’t seem as though he’d been thrown at all. Kenyon was quiet, but unharmed, and Ingram kept sneaking pieces of chocolate, the crackle of the wrappers loud enough to out his actions, even if he pretended no one would hear it.
The shelter turned out to be a small shop. There were large windows, but thankfully Carter didn’t do another flying leap through the glass. Instead, Ingram used the shadows to pass through the walls, then unlatched the door from the inside.
Tall shelving made the place feel far smaller than it was, and I couldn’t tell if the dust in the air was from the dungeon or if it had been here before. Books covered each shelf, packed in so tight that not an inch of space remained, with no books facing out.
They weren’t perfect spines and pristine covers. Instead, creases proved these copies had been either well-loved or not cared for—funny that the same condition could mean either thing.
I tried to recall the last time I’d been in a bookshop like this one, and I couldn’t.
It had been before The Pitt, back when I’d been a kid looking for places I could go and wouldn’t get kicked out.
There had been this little place, Raven’s Bookstore, set out of the way and in the middle of more industrial buildings.
It had looked as though an owner had refused to sell when updating the rest of the area, leaving one building out of place.
The owner had let me use the store like a library, giving me a new book each time I returned another.
Ingram picked one of the books from a shelf, frowning at the cover. “They’re all filthy.”
That got my attention, and I followed his suit, plucking a random title down. His Slutty Little Rabbit.
Yeah, that sounded fairly filthy. Carter moved back out through the door, then burst into laughter. When he returned, he closed and latched the door behind him. “The place is called Cliterature.”
I set the book back on the shelf, shaking my head. I didn’t have a problem with the material, but damn it, it didn’t seem like the best place to try to have a serious discussion. I could imagine us trying to talk and Ingram jerking off as he read all by himself.
“I would never,” Ingram muttered, as though I’d made the claim aloud. He probably just knew because he was already considering it.
“Come on, let’s pull some chairs over,” Carter said. “Might as well be comfortable. You should try to get an hour of sleep or so at least when we’re done.”
Kenyon and Ingram helped, pulling the chairs scattered around the place to the center of the room. It again reminded me the usefulness of an esper, since I couldn’t have gotten them there so easily.
In the end, they’d found three chairs and a love seat, creating a nice little seating area.
I went for a chair when Ingram all but picked me up and took me to the loveseat. “You’ll need to nap afterward anyway—might as well take this spot.”
As the others claimed their seats, I wondered how exactly to handle the talk. What was I supposed to ask?
Thankfully, I didn’t have to come up with anything, and Carter started it all off. “It was a dark and stormy night.”
And just like that, I was reminded of why Carter shouldn’t be allowed to tell stories. I got up. “If you’re going to bullshit me, I don’t want to listen.”
Ingram caught my wrist and tugged me back down beside him.
Carter sighed, at least looking chastised, even if it was all a ploy. “Okay, fine. You really want to know the truth? You want to know what happened back then? Why things all went to shit? Fine, but don’t tell me I didn’t warn you that it isn’t a pretty story.”