Out

Chapter 19

Cerani Encampment, 324 Era Vulgaris, Centennial 30

"I need you to be serious," I say with a sigh. Aron is in a pleasant mood for the first time since healing, but it also means that he has spent the last hour trying to plant the seeds for dreams in my head, rather than reading through my own jumbled visions.

"If I were able to make you dream of something in particular, though—"

"No! If there comes a time when the entire tribe's well-being is not on the line, then we will try to stretch the limits of your power. Until then, just try to see through the dark!" I close my eyes and fold my arms across my body. Aron sits beside my cot. I wish I could see him; it would make it much easier to force him to take this seriously.

He presses two fingers to my forehead.

"Are you being serious?" I ask.

"Shhhh," he says. "I'm trying to turn on a light in here."

I resist the urge to huff and attempt to relax with whatever fraying fibers of my patience that are left. A gentle rumbling builds some distance away. At first, I think it must be Aron making a noise to try to get a rise out of me, but it continues well beyond the limits of his lungs.

"A ship," Aron whispers.

"No..."

I bolt upright and Aron pulls me onto my feet. "We're not ready!"

"Go find Riva," Aron says, pushing me towards the exit. "Meet me at Edrus' tent once you tell Riva."

"I will," I reply. The air is thick with a panicked charge, but I search for Riva's unique signature. Sure enough, I read it in the center of camp. Several women shriek as they notice the approaching ship, but I make my way to Riva's energy. Luckily, my tent is in the second circle and I don't have far to walk.

"Antista!" Riva exclaims as I approach. She comes to me, then, grasping my elbow. "All Sparks are prepared to fight no matter what the officers want."

"Do not attack unless this is a hostile visit," I say. "If they come to bargain for Achad, I may be willing to negotiate. All children should be with their natural father or a man willing to vouch for them. I am going to deal with Achad."

"It is your will," Riva says. She squeezes my hand and turns to meet up with a large vital signature—the Sparks! They are strong; they must have been training through the night. I am proud.

I do not dare run without my sight, but as the whirring of the ship because a roar, I hurry to Edrus' tent and throw back the flap.

"Your officers su—" I stop. There are no vital signatures in the tent, just a large mass on the floor. I kneel to better observe the shadowed object through my charge and it hits me: Edrus. This lifeless mass is Edrus. Aron isn't here, and neither is Achad. I feel for Edrus' pulse.

Nothing.

Edrus is dead. Kasimir Achad is gone. I should have killed him while I could, when he was at my mercy. Better yet, I should have slit his throat when I was fourteen years old, as he looked into my eyes and told me that my life no longer belonged to me. My mercy for Achad was the blade in Edrus' back. I have not the faintest idea where the man could be, except that he is somewhere between here and Arcis. That or he ran the opposite direction, to escape from the worst of his offences. But he is not the sort of man to do a job halfway. He wants all of us to die. The satisfaction of his blood lust means more than his own survival. No, he must be headed back to Arcis, back to his guns and the men who do his dirty work. I ache to find him and take back my people. He must die.