“That’s not the worst of it, though.”
He scoots closer. “What could be worse than having the person you love not want to have anything to do with you?”
My pulse gallops. “The poor, heartbroken Orion, wandering around in search of his lost love, stepped on Scorpius”
— I guide Digory’s hand toward another distinct pattern-“and died.”
Digory flinches. “Ouch! Not the ending I was hoping for.” He chuckles. “I think I like the Taurus story better.”
The salt air stings my eyes. “Not every story has a happy ending, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth telling.” I turn away. Concentrating on the brightest star I can find, I hope he won’t notice I’m doing everything possible not to give in to the ache I feel for my brother.
“I wonder what it would be like, Lucian, to love someone so totally, so … you know, so powerfully, that even the stars can’t contain themselves from proclaiming that love for everyone to see,” he says softly. “It must be the grandest feeling in the world.”
I shrug. “They’re only fairy tales. You said so yourself, Digory. ”
His eyes return to the sky. “They don’t have to be.” He squeezes my hand.
Neither of us says anything for the next few minutes. We just stare out to sea, listening to the waves crash in the distance, harmonized by the mourning wail of the wind.
“So tell me,” Digory says at last. “What story are you looking at now?”
I’m losing the fight against my emotions. “I’m not looking at a story. I’m just thinking how far away these stars really are. By the time their light reaches us, the stars could have been dead thousands of years.”
He brings my hand to his knee and holds it there. “Don’t worry. Cole’s all right, Lucian. I know he is. You have to keep believing that.”
My eyes burn. “But he’s a prisoner in that awful place-what did Cypress call it? Purgatorium.” I swipe at my eyes but the wind has already dried them. “He may as well be one of those stars.”
“But he’s not alone, Lucian. Look. Look up there.” Now it’s his turn to guide my hand in the sky. “You see that bright star up there?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Let’s just say that’s Cole for a minute. Well, look around, Lucky. He’s not alone. There are millions of other bright lights out there, and one of them is you.” He moves my hand to another star twinkling in a different area of the sky. “And as you just showed me, they’re all connected.” He begins moving my hand from star to star. “Sooner or later you’ll find the path that connects you to each other again.” He traces the final point until it interconnects with the bright star representing Cole. “I promise you.” He adds his other hand and completely envelops mine in his.
My sadness boils over into liquid heat stinging its way down my cheeks. I wrench my hand away. “How can you promise me something like that? You know what we’re up against, what’s about to happen. It’s an impossible situation, barring some unlikely miracle. The only way Cole and I can both survive this is if I can somehow make it through to the final round and win the Trials. In order for that to happen, everyone else’s loved ones will have to die in the Culling. Do you get that, Digory? Including the people you love, who, by the way, you’ve never told me a thing about. So unless you and the others are prepared to sacrifice your own just so I can see my little brother again, I’d refrain from making promises that will be impossible to keep.”
“I know how hopeless it seems, Lucian. Trust me. And I’m sure the other Recruits do too. But the moment you stop believing that it’s possible … well … that’s the moment that it’s not.”
Waves of confusion rock me. It’s hard enough living and training with Digory. But being alone with him-it stirs up too many conflicting emotions.
All that time at the Instructional Facility, he hardly ever spoke to me-barely even looked at me. What if all this newfound concern during our training is part of his strategy, making me … like him, rely on him … just so he can crush me when I least expect it, the way Cassius did?
There’s too much at stake.
Swinging my legs back over the railing, I spring back down to the platform. “Sorry. I know you’re only trying to make me feel better. But I think it’s best if we each go it alone from this point on.”
“You do, huh?”
If he’s only been turning up the charm to lull me into a false sense of security, he’s got the aching expression down pat.
I take off the jacket and hold it out to him. “Here. Take it.”
He dismisses me with a wave of the hand. “Keep it. You need it more than I do.”
I’m tempted to look away from the blossoming hurt on his face, tell him I don’t mean a word of what I’m saying, but it has to be done, for his sake as well as my own.
“Good luck during the Trials, Lucian. I guess we’re going to find out what we’re both truly made of.” His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. But the air of finality about it catches me off guard like an unexpected crash of thunder.
He bolts from the Observation Tower without another word.
Leaving me to wonder if I’ve just made one of the biggest mistakes of my life.
By the time I make it back down to the ground, exhaustion is finally starting to catch up to me. But before I can round the corner leading to the barracks, I spot a figure darting through the shadows from one equipment bunker to the next. A fresh wave of energy takes hold of me. Recalling all my recent stealth training, I slink into pursuit, partially from curiosity and a sense of duty …
Mostly to avoid having to face Digory back at our barracks.
When the figure ducks behind a supply crate, I catch a glimpse of pale skin and raven hair in the moonlight.
Cypress.
What the hell is she doing skulking around?
But she’s already on the move again and I continue my tail, shadowing her as we dodge one ground patrol after another until she stops behind an electrical shed that overlooks two of the perimeter pylons.
She turns in my direction, but I duck behind the bunker that’s diagonal to her, before she can see me. Then I crawl to the edge and peer around the corner.
Styles and Renquist are talking to the pilot of a troop carrier-an oblong transport vehicle, with an open-air bed, that looks like a floating coffin without the lid. The craft is hovering a few feet off the ground, just on the other side of the invisible sonic barrier.
“-After all your recon, you’d think you guys would’ve turned up something already.” Renquist’s voice carries in the wind.
“Maybe they don’t show up on infrared at all,” the pilot’s voice crackles. “Look, just open the shield and let us back inside.”
Styles belts out a raucous chuckle. “Don’t get your skivvies in a wad, Corporal.” He holds his walkie to his mouth. “This is Sector Seven. Deactivate field for squad re-entry.”
Cypress crawls to the edge of the shed. By the looks of her posture, she’s ready to spring.
She’s going to make a break for it.
The hum between the two pylons winds down and the lights dim.
Renquist motions the vehicle forward. “You’re clear!”
The carrier soars through the gap, just as I dash to the shed and tackle Cypress before she can bolt. We tumble to the ground and roll back behind the shed, my hand clamped over her mouth. She jams her elbow into my gut and I see a different variety of stars as she squirms free.
“Don’t do it,” I whisper.
But my warning’s moot. The hum of the sonic pulse vibrates through the air once again and the field flickers, having been re-energized.
“Let’s pack it in, people!” Styles shouts as both he and Renquist are hoisted into the cab by the other soldiers and the carrier speeds off into the distance, leaving Cypress and me alone in the dark.
She kicks gravel into my face. “You idiot! I’ve been monitoring the recon patrol schedules for weeks. This was my one chance to get outside the fence before the next rotation, and you screwed it up!”