Reluctantly, I popped the nub into my mouth. It’s not as bad as I feared. The stuff tastes like a piece of licorice that’s been dropped in the dirt and then stepped on. I chew until it becomes pulp. By the time my tongue goes numb, the pain in my limbs has dulled and I’m able to breathe easier. As promised, the thing tasted like shit but did the job.
We kept moving.
#
Tovian disappears and reappears like he’s part of the landscape all morning. It drives me nuts. At noon, sweating and sunburned despite my makeshift brim, I beg for rest. He didn’t seem particularly bothered by the heat, the sun, or the exertion. I’ve eaten his entire leaf supply and dread the afternoon’s muscle cramping.
“Is this when you’ll tell me where you got that phone?” he asks, offering me his metal water canteen. It’s clearly modern, and a prized possession, judging from the way he keeps it in his pack.
“Why are you so interested in my phone?” I counter, trying to stare him down even though it’s more like trying to stare up at him. Not very effective, in terms of intimidation.
At times like this, I don’t much like being short.
“No Ansi has one.” Again, I’m drawn to his eyes, a light shade of brown striated with amber, surrounded by a dark edge. The pupils are pinpricks in this bright light. “We don’t know what they’re used for. How do I know you’re not collaborating with Skía?”
My mouth falls open. I hadn’t thought of that angle. A strange woman, alone in a part of the country no one with any sense ever ventures, carrying outsider technology, dead-set on getting to Oceanside? Suspect. The men who followed me in here could have been my guards, before Big Ada—Eater—lived up to her name.
He took a chance on agreeing to escort me.
“Because I hate the Skía with every fiber of my being,” I say fiercely. “They nearly killed the man I—” I break off, seeing Tovian’s expression close down. My crush on Lorcan has done enough damage. I don’t wish to lose the possibility of being with Tovian over feelings that belong in the past. “The man I’ve known since childhood. A closefriend,” I emphasize, willing him to understand that there was nothing more to it. Not after what I heard that night in Marsh Hollow. “My best friend is missing because of them.”
I do not mention that saidbest friendwas the future queen of the realm. Details.
“Then explain where you got that, Arianelle.”
“It was given to me by Saskaya of the Covari the night I brought aforementioned friend Lorcan to the Sun Temple, for the purpose of informing me when and if he awakens from a coma. Until then, I’m to make my way to Oceanside to help organize the remaining inhabitants into a resistance movement.” I unbuckle my pack and shove the dirty clothes down, producing the precious black supply kit. “I’m carrying medical supplies. Antibiotics.” He probably doesn’t know what those are. I hold up a small glass jar. “Strong painkillers”—morphine vials, to be precise—“stitching supplies, gloves, masks, Steri-Strips, gauze—”
“You’re a healer,” he says, after a moment. I can see his confusion. Who am I, with all this material from the outside world? Someone important. Someone connected to the unofficial royal guardians, but clearly not Covari. They have silvery-white hair and blue eyes. All of them. Every single one.
“Yes.” The best one Auralia has, at the moment, which is almost as frightening as the invasion itself. “The night of the invasion, Lorcan had an accident. I drilled burr holes into his head to try and stop the swelling in his brain from causing too much damage. I don’t know whether he’ll survive.”
If the bone hadn’t already been cracked, I wouldn’t have been able to pierce it with my limited tools. I’ll never forget the alarming color of what oozed out. So much blood, too. I’m still terrified I drilled too far and made things worse. I’m trained in field medicine. I can stitch a gash, irrigate a wound, check for underlying damage to tissue, or set a bone, in a pinch. That’s it. Brain surgery was not something I’m trained in.
My throat closes, remembering.
The night we lifted Lorcan’s body into the pedestal bed of the bunker beneath the Sun Temple, I clung to any sign of hope I could grasp. The situation was so shocking. So desperate. Lorcan had a pulse, thready and weak, but present. His eyes barely fluttered as I stuck an IV needle in his arm and hung it beside him, praying the antibiotics would be enough to fight off an infection. Saskaya raised the fourth wall and filled the tank with that weird blue liquid she’s studied for decades. The same energy liquid that powers the Sentinels.
We don’t even know what it is.
Sas trusted the ancient technology, but the truth is, none of us know what the fuck it’s supposed to do.
He floated as though asleep. When Saskaya cleansed the wound in his skull, he didn’t flinch. No movement. For all I knew then, or know now, he was braindead.
I might have been the one who killed him.
A tear slips down my cheek. I swiped it away.
“Do you think it worked?” Tovian asks in that gentle, probing way of his.
“I don’t know. He might not wake up. If he does, the chances that he’ll be the same man he was before are slim to none.” I wasn’t completely honest with Zosia that night. I wanted to give her something to hope for. I should have told her that the man she knew was dead, even if Lorcan lived. “I lost my two closest friends during the invasion, Tovian. Two others died. So no, I am not Skía, though I can see why you might think that. Considering how we met.”
“Who was the other friend?”
Fuck. Walked into that one. I lick my dry lips and try to sidestep his question.
“Before I left, Saskaya gave me a phone and the walkie-talkie and a few guards, and told me to get to Oceanside to coordinate the resistance.”
“You’re not Covari,” Tovian said slowly. “Yet you’re working closely with them.”
