“It doesn’t matter right now,” she said.
Tayel remembered the sensation of being watched. “Wait. Were you—?”
“What happened?” Shy demanded. “I turn my back for thirty seconds, and you two are being chased by the whole damn guard force!”
“It’s Feathers,” Fehn said. “We found him, but he was — it looked like he was being interrogated by guards. He said the Rokkir are real.”
“Xite.”
“We have to go back for him,” Tayel said.
“Did anyone see your faces?” Shy asked.
“No,” Fehn said, “Not mine. It’s too dark to, anyway, and we were moving too fast.”
“Listen to me!” Tayel shouted. “We have to go back for him.”
Shy glared. “You listen to me. If you go back for him, you will be killed. You will endanger everything we worked for—”
“Shy,” Fehn muttered.
“Shut up,” she told him. “Your friend made his choice, Tayel. It’s too late for him, but it’s not too late for us.”
Tayel stepped forward to less than a foot from Shy’s face. “Why are you such a banshee? All you do is boss us around and treat us like xite, and now that the whole reason for me going along with your stupid plan is being interrogated by Rokkir guards, you won’t lift a damn finger to help!”
“Because I’m not being selfish!” Shy yelled back.
“Selfish?” Tayel snapped.
“You’re only thinking about yourself and what you want, when I’m thinking about all of us. What good will running after him do now, huh? If it weren’t for me, you’d be right there with him about to be beaten to death.”
No. Tayel was better than that. She could have escaped. And she wasn’t thinking about herself, she was thinking about Jace. Everyone would benefit from helping Jace, he… She looked to Fehn. He averted his gaze, shook his head, and stared at the grass, silent.
Tayel’s throat tightened.
Shy watched her with a mixture of anger and pity, her eyes soft around the edges but her jaw set.
“Maybe they’ll take him to the castle,” Fehn said. “They wouldn’t kill him if he had information.”
Not looking away from Tayel, Shy said quietly, “And how long you do think he’ll hold out when they start to torture him?”
Tayel gripped her stomach. He didn’t deserve this. This was her fault. Her fault again. She thought of Mom and tasted bile.
“I don’t know,” Fehn said.
“He knows what we’re doing, and the guards might be on the lookout for you two now,” Shy said. “If we aren’t called as recruits tomorrow, we do what you suggested, Fehn, and take the long way around through the forest. We’ll find a way in from there if we have to.”
“If you think it’s worth the risk of staying another night.”
Shy sighed. “We should at least sleep in the same tent and switch out watch posts. Just in case.”
“Probably a good idea,” Fehn agreed. “Red?”
Tayel crossed her arms, silent. She couldn’t shake the image of Jace on the ground, his wing raised up to defend himself. She should have taken better care of him. She trudged back to her tent behind Shy and Fehn, but when they got there, sleep did not come.
She laid awake, thinking about what Jace could have been doing in the guard sector. In all the years she’d known him, the odds of him getting in trouble were nonexistent. She tossed and turned, cycling between fear, despair, and anger. She had to rescue Jace. If he was anywhere in that castle, then Shy would see just how selfish Tayel could be. But she wasn’t selfish. She hid a whimper in her jacket. She wasn’t selfish and she didn’t need Shy; she could have escaped the guards without help. She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that pooled behind them, knowing deep down that neither thought was true.
Chapter 13
Ruxbane glared at the blood samples running through his computer, each one turning out a disheartening positive. Every human blood sample had the same dormant gene in their DNA — the same gene which, mutated, caused him suffering now.
He closed his eyes and saw Jin backing away from him, body stooped in terror. He hadn’t apologized yet. The courage to do so evaded him. He rubbed his temples, willing the memory away. If he never saw her face again, he’d be better off.
Remembering the exact sensation the heat caused proved impossible. No warning sirens flared; it happened at random. When it started, he simply knew, and then it was too late to do anything. The computer turned out another positive reading and moved to the next sample. In wakefulness and sleep, the fear of that feeling resurfacing haunted him, and yet this damn machine gave him nothing.
He slammed his fist onto the desk.
The clatter echoed off the walls as his computer turned out another positive. It analyzed about one hundred blood samples an hour, and he’d invested more than a few full days. He let out a huff of air. Time to give up, then. He’d wasted too much effort as it was. Before he started, he understood how small the odds were of finding someone lacking the gene. As fearful as he’d been, he had little doubt he would find what he needed, but now… Another positive. Now all he could do was get his people as far as he could lead them before he expired.
Beep. Beep. Beep. He lifted his head while the unfamiliar noise continued. He frowned, gaze tracing over the screen.
Negative.
The computer, having found its desired result, paused.
Negative.
Ruxbane read the word over and over again, slower each iteration, taking one symbol at a time to ensure it spelled what he thought it did. His heart pumped adrenaline through his veins. His breathing grew rapid and shallow. Tears welled and blurred his vision but he smeared them away, blinking rapidly to see the screen once again.
He sputtered out a breath, realizing it had been caught in his throat. He had found it. A tremor of anticipation whipped through him. His hands shook as he brought them to the keyboard. The one thing in all the universe that could save him, and here it rested. Destiny gifted this chance to him, he was certain. In a keystroke, the beeping stopped. In another, data on who the blood sample belonged to flashed upon the screen, but he didn’t care. Not then. He needed to confirm his findings.
He ejected the sample — still in its small tube — and quickly withdrew the necessary supplies from his station. Microscope. Transfusion vector. Pipet. With the pipet, he extracted a small helping of blood from the tube, steadying his hands with great focus. He piped a drop onto a slide and added the vector, then under the microscope it all went.
He observed for a long, anxious ten minutes. He paced the room. After ten minutes, Ruxbane was certain. This is it, this is what I’ve been waiting for. He breathed a sigh of relief, but his heart pounded so hard it hurt. Now, who was the lucky specimen? The data still sat onscreen.
Tayel Evanarb.
Seventeen, one hundred seventy two centimeters, sixty-three point five kilograms, red hair, brown eyes, no criminal record — but a few curfew warnings. After reading all there was, Ruxbane examined her picture. She wore a happy, testing smirk. Her nose bunched up to one side and one eye was slightly closed as though she were in mid wink. She lived in the closest refugee camp on Elsha — the one right in front of Castle Aishan. Ruxbane tapped his mouth as he perused a few other facts. If only this girl knew what she was going to do for him.