Wasteland (Flight) (13 page)

If only it were that simple.

“I don’t know what to do,” I say finally.

“Just follow your heart. Deep down, the answer you’re looking for is already there.”

The answer. I already know the answer, but I don’t know if I’m ready to accept it. To accept that means to truly give my life away to all of this madness. But maybe that’s exactly what I need.

“Come on, I want to show you around,” Asher says, rolling off the bed. I laugh.

“You’re going to kill me, you know that?”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re marked, remember? You belong to me now.”

I tumble out of the bed, letting those words sink in. And it doesn’t feel wrong, not even in the slightest.

Outside the bedroom is a large waiting room. A Harpy sitting on a couch made of bent twigs jumps up as the door opens. Then I recognize him: the cocky blond Harpy, the one I let get away. Dodge.

“Pleasure to see you again, Piper Madden. Strange to see you in these parts,” he intones, grin on his face.

“Stranger for me, trust me,” I say. Asher turns to me.

“Dodge is going to show you around. Pretend you’re a Human. You don’t smell like a Hunter, so you should be okay. Just don’t kill anyone,” he says.

I don’t know how I feel about being left alone with Dodge, but I don’t have much of a choice. Asher sprints toward a wide window and takes off into the sky. I stand awkwardly, not sure what to say or do. Dodge cocks his head.

“Well, come on, then. There’s lots to see.” He holds out his arm for mine.

The palace is a maze of halls and towers, all designed for flight. There are few Harpies here, and those we pass don’t seem to notice me at all. Dodge and I laugh and joke, and it doesn’t take me long to feel comfortable with him. He’s naturally charming and confidant.

He stops me before a massive set of double doors, intricately carved and gleaming.

“Where do these lead?” I ask.

Dodge lowers his voice. “The Empress’s wing. She would very much like to meet you.”

I can feel my skin paling. This has all been a trap. They’ve brought me here for the Empress to make a warning from me.

“Don’t worry. You won’t be hurt. Asher has claimed you. We may be Harpies, but we aren’t as barbaric as your government makes us out to be. Now, I can’t go in with you, but you don’t need to be afraid.”

“Great pep talk,” I mutter, but I’m already this deep in this mad fantasy, I may as well go through with it.

Dodge pulls a long tassel, and servants open the door. They beckon me to sit down and wait. The doors close, locking me in.

The first thing I hear is loud howling and wailing, like someone is being tortured, then a commanding voice,

“Darcy stop behaving like an animal. You’re in the Royal Family after all. I don’t care a thing about this ‘Wilding’ of yours. I raised you better.”

So it’s the daughter, Darcy, who has returned. I wonder what they’ve done with her, if they’ve chained her down or worse. She growls in return to her mother.

“You’re just weak, Mother. You’ve lost your true self. You’re no more a Harpy than Asher, with his
feelings
,” Darcy spits. A loud
slap
echoes, followed by a loud
thump
, like the girl has been slammed against the wall.

“Don’t you dare speak to me that way, you ungrateful fool. You’re on lockdown,” the Empress snarls. The door to the room slams and locks, and quick footsteps sound closer and closer to me.

I’m awed when I see her. Tall and lean, Asher’s mother demands respect just by her presence. Her skin is pale and her lips are blood-red. Her wings are the same shining ebony as her son’s. She stands in the doorway to the parlour, eyeing me curiously.

“So, you’re the traitor?” Her lips are smiling, but her eyes are daggers.

“If what I’ve done makes me a traitor, then I guess I am,” I reply, matching her gaze.

“My son has told me all about you.” She walks about the room as if to display herself at every angle. “I don’t know whether to think you courageous, or incredibly foolish. You see, you aren’t the first Hunter we’ve had within our midst, but you are certainly the first Hunter to fall in love with a Harpy, especially being that he is my son.”

“Love?” I stutter, my mouth hanging open, heart pounding. She grins at me slyly, her sharp teeth shining.

“You people are blind, aren’t you? You can’t see what is in front of your own eyes. But I will warn you about Asher.” Her expression sours. “He is not normal. He’s a special young man, destined for greatness. A greatness that cannot possibly include love. You do understand?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, your…” I falter, unsure of what to call her.

“Ciar. Call me Ciar.” She comes close to me, something else flickering in her eyes. Urgency?

“I want you to know that I am sympathetic with Asher’s motives. I truly admire my son for his bravery, and I too would enjoy less murder and war. However, in my position, I cannot show this. There are other forces at play. I’m sure you heard my daughter Darcy moments ago. She and my other son, Gabriel, believe in a different world. A Harpy’s world. I abhor their basic, animalistic motives, but it is not yet time. You must return to your Underground and you would do best to forget about my son.”

She reaches out to me, gliding her fingers through a strand of my hair. “I see what he sees in you. You are strong and brave, even if you are not incredibly beautiful. Those are admirable qualities in our eyes. Don’t lose that fire, even when times may be hard.”

She steps away from me then, the cold hardness returning to her face. “Dodge, you may escort Piper away now,” she calls.

The huge double doors swing open, and the guards lead me back to Dodge’s arm.

“Never forget what I’ve said,” Ciar calls.

The doors slam shut.

Everything feels empty to me when I return to the base. I’ve always know this time would come, but I never really accepted it, that eventually Asher and I would be apart forever.

It’s morning now, and the base is buzzing. I notice Shelley and Dodge sitting together at a makeshift rock table, food served. I’m starving.

I watch them as I approach. Shelley looks at Dodge like he’s everything in her life right now, but this time it’s different from the others she has fallen for. This time her eyes aren’t shining stars and her lips don’t spill girlish giggles. Instead her mouth sits in a contented smile.

One relationship ends as another blossoms. I swallow any bitterness. She has finally found what she’s been looking for. Dodge’s eyes light up when he sees me.

“So, she returns. We were all a bit worried.”

I scooch in beside Shelley, laying my head on her shoulder.

“Where did you go?” Shelley asks.

“I saw Ash,” I whisper. Dodge’s eyes widen.

“Is he okay?” His tone is low, serious.

“He’s gone.”

Shelley pushes me off of her, eyes lined with concern. “What do you mean?” she explains. I shush her, not wanting to attract any attention.

“He’s leaving. He can’t control himself anymore. I don’t know where he’s going, I just know that he’s gone.”

“And you just let him go?” Shelley says. Her tone is sharp, accusatory. My brows furrow.

“It isn’t like I can stop him. He’s sick, and dangerous.” Why am I even bothering making up excuses like this?

“It’s just not like you,” Shelley elaborates. Thankfully Dodge butts in before I can retort.

“I, for one, think what you’ve done is very brace. You’ve sacrificed the most important thing in your life for the safety of all. Shelley, my dove, can’t you see that? Piper hasn’t given up on him. This is what is meant to be.”

“I guess so. I just don’t want things to be this way. Babe, I don’t want you to be lost without him,” she says, addressing me.

“I’ll be fine,” I say. “I’m prepared for this, but I need to go think for a while.”

I can’t just sit here and talk like everything is okay or should be okay or will be okay. Inside my body is crawling, scratching, screaming. I snatch an apple from the breakfast tray.

“Where are you going?” Shelley asks.

“I’m going to the front lines. I’m going to help finish this war.”

Flame greets me as I march the long walk from the base to the camp. I giant pure has been built, burning the remains of the dead. Hunters. Soldiers. Lives lift through the black smoke. The cries of their families and their comrades hiss and scream. There is no hope for these souls. They gave up their lives for what they believed in.

And I have to make sure that belief isn’t in vain.

At the entrance to the barb-wire fenced-off camp, I’m halted only for a moment before the guard realizes who I am.

“How is everything?” I ask. Defeat fills the young man’s face, the sorrow of what he has seen scarring him.

“The waves haven’t stopped. We’d hoped the Empty would wane, but there seems to be an unlimited supply.”

“The Empty?”

“The soldiers from Elder Corp. They are alive only in body. No soul lies within them,” he says.

Rupert’s dream has come true, then. He now has the perfect army to defend his little Empire, killing Harpies to keep people afraid of anything beyond the paradise he has built for them. But how has he amassed so many? What powers them?

“Who is your leader?” I ask. The boy nods his head and gestures toward a clump of soldiers huddled around each other.

“Captain Fife,” he declares. I pay his shoulder as I pass him. My heart aches for this kid. He’s been exposed to horrors his mind could never have been ready for.

“We’re going to end all of this,” I say. The barest glimpse of a hopeful smile escapes over his lips, and a sense of pride and determination fill me. I know this was the right decision.

I step through the camp, weaving around tents and med stations, junk piles and food stashes. When I reach the huddle of soldiers, they don’t notice my presence.

A man stands in the middle, covered in a muted armor, making his form barely noticeable from his surroundings. His long dark hair hangs in curls around his face, and his mouth is surrounded by a stiff stubble. He paces among his soldiers. They stand, completely devoted to him.

“You are all leagues greater than any man or woman I have ever met. Your bravery stands not only for the lives outside of the Underground, but also for the lives trapped inside, completely unaware of the life they could be living. That they could breathe fresh air or stand among trees. That they could be caressed by the wind and cleansed by the rain. That they could
live
as we were always meant to. It is for them, as well as for us, that we must vanquish Elder’s Empty soldiers, and free mankind!” The crowd rallies with him, their faces beaming courage and purpose. The energy is high and hopeful, and even I can feel it.

The captain stands dutifully, then notices me from the corner of his eye. He brushes hands with his soldiers before moving to meet me. Frankly, his presence surprises me. My own heart has been uplifted by his words, from his call to arms.

“News from the Base?” he asks breathlessly. His eyes shine honey-brown beneath his heavy and determined brows. I shake my head, no.

“Nothing to report. I’m here to help. I want to be a part of your army,” I reply. He raises his brows in surprise.

“You? I’m sure you must be needed by Commander Grier and the rest. Why would you come here to fight?”

“Because I want to. I belong here, fighting. Please, place me in your lines,” I beg. He looks off to the side, as if pondering whether or not this situation is real. He turns back to me.

“If you want to fight, then I welcome you gladly. But the road will be long and hard. There will be death and carnage. I’m not doubting your skills in any way, but I want you to be sure that you’re ready. Joining the battle is wedding yourself to the cause. This becomes your life, and you must be willing to die fighting for it,” he says.

Flashes of all that has happened appear before me. David. Shelley. Sandy. Grier. Dodge. Gamma. Mura.

Asher.

I nod firmly. “My life is the fight.”

Captain Fife takes my hand, shaking it firmly. “Welcome, then, Piper Madden. Find yourself a bunk. Drop by here tonight, and we can discuss the battle over dinner.”

He releases my hand and marches into the fray, the smoke from the fire swallowing his receding figure. I look around me, taking in every sight and smell of this compound and the people around me.

This is my home now.

This is my fight.

Asher isn’t in his room when Dodge returns me. I take a look out the open window, watching Harpies soar between the buildings below me. The sun is setting, sending a wash of orange light over everything.

I move to the kitchenette to find something to drink when I see a note on the counter in a scratchy scrawl.

Meet me in the library. Third door on the left.

-A

I splash my face with cold water from a wooden basin, prepping myself for what may be next. I step tentatively out of the room and lounge, but the guards don’t seem to notice or care about me. I take a left and follow the hallway.

Portraits hang on the walls. Ciar, in her dark glory. Asher’s father, stark white with flowing hair. Then the three children. Asher is a bit younger here, with a haunted gaze on his face. Darcy beside him looks bored and impatient. Her mousy hair hangs past her shoulders. She’s the perfect mixture of mother and father; the gray between their black and white. Beside her is the last child, Gabriel. His face is menacing, angry, and confident all at the same time. He’s more angular than Asher, sharper. His bright green eyes hold a terrifying madness.

The thought of him being so close to me makes me shiver, and I hustle down the hall. The third door is actually farther than I thought it would be. These doors are, of course, heavy wood, like the Empress’s. One is cracked open. I pull it the rest of the way with my hand.

The room before me holds a massive library. The walls are lined with shelves; layers of shelves with ladders and balconies. Each book must be hundreds of years old, but the musty smell of them is comforting, like this is the safest place in the world.

I stride in, glancing at the different-colored spines surrounding me. I find Asher deep within the shelves, by a window letting in the soft light of dusk. His dark hair hangs over his face as he peers over a massive tome with yellowed pages.

“I met your mother,” I call. He looks up, smiling at me.

“And you came out alive.”

I cock an eyebrow at him. “Was there a chance I wouldn’t?”

“Never,” he says. I join him at the reading table, looking over his shoulder at the book.

“
The Fault of Power
,” I recite. Asher pushes the book away as I sit beside him.

“This was one of my father’s favorites. I’ve been trying to decipher it, to try to figure out what he did to me.”

“What do you mean?” I ask. He gestures to his book, where I can see the tips of his serpentine scar.

“It never heals, you know. It’s the only memory I have left of him,” he murmurs. His expression is caught between anger and melancholy.

“What happened to him?”

He looks at me, eyes dark. “I killed him.”

I can’t say anything for a moment. This wasn’t something I was expecting. At the Corp, we’d all thought H000 had disappeared, but no one speculated his death. Harpies didn’t just die on their own. “I didn’t know that was possible,” I say.

Asher turns his faze forward, focusing on nothing. “It shouldn’t be. The only other way to kill a Harpy is to separate the head from the rest of the body, and even then it only takes so long before the body regenerates, But with Dad it was different. He became ill, like his soul was being drained from him. The last time I saw him was in this room. I don’t remember much beyond excruciating pain, and then it ended. He fell to the ground and shrivelled up before my eyes. He was nothing but bone by the time my mother arrived,” he says. His voice is somber, and I can’t begin to imagine what that would feel like, to feel responsible for the death of a loved one.