Falling Skyward

Chapter Fourteen: Star Ether

Lana inhaled the citrusy tang of sunshine, and then she laughed. Taren, sprawled out on the stream shore, looked up at her ruefully, his face splattered with turquoise mud.

"I warned you what would happen if you tried to throw me in," Lana taunted.

"Come on, Lana; show some mercy. Come help me up."

"Nice try, but I'm not falling for it. You got exactly what you deserve."

"You're heartless," Taren said, laughing. Jumping to his feet, he dove back into the crystalline pool. He swam beneath the waterfall, letting the streaming water sweep away the leaves and mud in his hair. Lana's lips fell into the peaceful grin that came more naturally to her now—especially when no one was watching.

Lana had quickly adjusted to the intensity of light in Altymia, loving the way it played vivaciously among the colors of the forest. Despite being thrust into an alien land with climates, plants, animals, and colors so different from her home, there was something in their graceful movements that reminded her of bitter-wheat shivering and swirling as it reflected the sky. But this world was brighter, its edges crisper.

While Lana adjusted to these changes with growing fondness, she couldn't adjust to the nightmares. They, too, had increased in vividness. Lana often dreamed of her last night home—of the faceless corpse dangling at the edge of the meadow, of the gypsy woman's eyes blank and lifeless, of plummeting toward white foam and an undulating clatter. But mostly, Lana dreamed of the little girl, Lark, and of Gailen. Now, whenever she awakened, Lana remembered the dreams. They clung to her with a searing pain she could not forget, even if she tried.

Sometimes she felt as though she knew more about Lark's heartaches and past than her own. She spent the nights learning how to fight and ride with Wren or comforting the little boy whose screams echoed through the moonlit stone halls. Lana had come to love him as though he were her brother, as though he were Gailen.

It felt at times as though Lana were the dream and Lark the dreamer.

Enveloped by her thoughts, Lana didn't see Taren until he flopped next to her on the green- and lilac-speckled moss. His hair was plastered to his forehead, creating a little fringe over his eyes. Water streamed from his back and arms.

"What is it, Lana? What are you thinking about?"

Lana beamed at him, tucking away her thoughts to ponder in solitude. "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking, how in the world are we going to make you even semi-presentable in time for the festival tonight?"

"Me? Speak for yourself. I don't need any help being dashing." His bravado and smile slipped, and he added, "But Lana, I hope you know you can tell me anything. I know it must not be easy, being away from your family. I can't even imagine it."

"No, it's not that, honestly. I do miss my family—I always will. But, in truth, there wasn't much of a life for me in Brevishaven. I think I was more of a nuisance than anything. I just wish I could know they are safe. When . . . the night when I last . . ." Lana's words faded, their meaning so imperfect, so inconsequential they were more useful dying away than spoken.

"Is that what your nightmares are about? That night you left?"

Lana looked up from her lap, scrutinizing Taren. "How . . ."

"How did I know? Just because I sleep in the shop doesn't mean I don't hear you at night. You talk in your sleep; did you know that? Mostly babble, but I can still hear the worry, the hurt in your voice. And I can hear the screams."

"Your poor mother must not be getting any sleep. It's bad enough you have to sleep in the shop and put up with me, but to go without sleep, too . . ."

Taren rose to his knees and spun to face Lana, putting his hands on hers. Lana's stomach dropped. Despite the cold water dripping from Taren's soaked shirt onto her skin, Lana felt a rush of warmth.

"Listen to me," he said, his voice a husky whisper. "You are not a nuisance, not an inconvenience and never will be. My mother and I—we already consider you family." Lana fumbled for a response, but Taren continued, his voice brightening with his typical teasing tone. "Besides, you couldn't wake my mother even if you beat a drum next to her ear."

"You're sure I'm not a nuisance?" Lana asked, biting her lip to hold back her smile.

"Oh no. You're about to make me regret those words, aren't you?"

In answer, Lana shoved Taren back into the pool, enjoying his surprised face as the cold water splashed over him. Spluttering, Taren resurfaced. "You're gonna regret that," he said, swimming back to the shore.

"For the record," Lana replied. "I don't like being told what I can and can't do, even if that something is only being a nuisance." Before Taren could reach her, Lana jumped into the water.

After splashing and swimming until their toes and fingers wrinkled, the two laid on the shore drying in the hot sun. Lana rested her head against Taren's chest, and he smiled, holding up a delicate necklace that glinted in the sun.

"What's that?" Lana asked, fixated by the silver gem that absorbed light rather than reflect it.

"It's a gift—star ether, something to stave off the bad dreams," he said, fastening the silver chain around Lana's neck. As she gazed down at the luminescent teardrop of stone clutched in tines of silver, she could feel its heat against her sternum then spreading through her veins. As she leaned once again against Taren's warm skin, Lana knew no nightmare could scar this moment.