Falling Skyward

Chapter Sixteen: Holding Tightly

Lana felt those same arms wrap around her again, pulling her closer. But this time, the movements were full of fear—grasping and squeezing as though they were afraid to let go, afraid she might drop and shatter. Lana felt her face buried against Taren's chest, smelt the cool, subdued scent of his skin, heard his heart as she was pulled into his lap. Then, she heard the sobs. Ugly, racking, heaving sobs, like the cry of a crippled animal.

It took Lana a moment to realize those sobs were her own, to remember why she felt so wounded, why her chest felt as though it had been fileted open from the inside—Gailen. She had dreamed about Gailen again. But this time, it was different. This time it hadn't been a memory.

"Shh, Lana. You're all right. You're safe. I'm here for you," Taren repeated in a slow, soothing whisper. The sobs turned to quiet tears as Lana clutched his nightshirt, pulling herself even further into his arms until it was hard for her to distinguish where she ended and he began. The star ether scorched her skin, but she didn't resist its heat.

"But Gailen." Her voice cracked hoarsely.

"What about Gailen?" Taren whispered, his breath stirring her hair.

"They had him, Taren. They were torturing him!" she tried to scream the words, but her voice was already spent. "And he was in such pain—Gailen, my sweet Gailen. How could they do that to him?" Lana could see Emmeline's shadow in her periphery, hovering close. She could feel the tension in Taren's body, knew she was frightening him—both of them. But she could still see Gailen's unconscious face, etched and contorted with pain that didn't ease, even with sleep.

Taren continued stroking Lana's hair, the rhythm an accompaniment to her sobs. She cried for Gailen's pain, she cried that she might never see him again, she cried for the home she had lost, for the memories no longer present, for her parents, for all the fears and heartaches of nineteen years. And while she cried, Taren held her, and she breathed in the calming scent of fresh bread mixed with something wild, something crisp and untraceable, like the forest after it rains. Taren held her until her eyes could open no longer.

*****

Taren and Lana were awoken by a feverish pounding. Taren gently extracted himself from Lana before racing to the front room. Lana could hear the urgent, muffled voice of a man. Emmeline's soft voice soon murmured with the rest. Lana saw the darkness outside her window, the deepest plunge into shadow before light appeared on the horizon. At that moment, she missed the prisms of light that danced above her home on winter nights—a fantastic respite from the bitter cold and perpetual night that clung to the earth.

Lana was startled by a brief knock, then Emmeline's head popped view. "Nothing to worry about, dear. Taren and I are just going on one of our little runs," she said. That's what the two of them called it when strangers came to their home at all hours of the day, desperate and pleading. The first night this had occurred, Lana had been terrified, fearing some catastrophe. Now, she rolled over in her bed, trying to keep her mind from dreaming.

Minutes later, Lana heard more pounding at the door. Was it another emergency? Lana threw a cover over her thin cotton nightgown, tying it around the waist. She walked into the front room, hesitating by the door, incapacitated by uncertainty. The banging started again.

"Please miss, open up. Madame Emmeline sent for you. She needs your help." Lana opened the door to find a boy no more than five, his feet bare, his hands wringing his unbuttoned shirt. Relief briefly touched his eyes when he saw Lana, then he scurried away. "This way," he called over his shoulder, darting into a dark alleyway. Unfamiliar with cities and the shadows moons cast at night, Lana felt apprehension welling within her. She stepped over a man sprawled across the cobblestones before darting down the dark side street. Lana's fear spiked as a crate toppled to the ground with a crash. A scaly creature scuttled into the shadows. The houses became smaller in this section of the city, many separated from the street by only a blanket or board propped against a wall. Screams and moans echoed off the stone walls, growing louder and more violent.