Tarver starts to let go of my hand, but I tighten my fingers through his, and he watches me for a long moment. I don’t pull away. He lifts our joined hands and kisses my fingers, his eyes closing as his lips linger against my skin.
I can’t help but wonder which is worse: losing the girl you love suddenly or being unable to touch her while she wastes away.
“How do you feel?” he asks, watching me intently.
“Incredible. Alive. Tarver, how did you know?”
“I didn’t.” He’s still watching our joined hands. “But I just—I sensed they didn’t want us hurt. They just wanted to be free. I guessed.”
A little chill ripples through me, and at my shiver, Tarver hauls off his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders. “Pretty big guess,” I point out.
“I had to believe it.”
“You picked a hell of a time to start believing in hunches and feelings.” I pull the jacket more tightly around myself and flash him a smile.
His arm around me tightens, and for a little while we just listen to the breeze stirring the leaves overhead.
“What do we do now?” I let my head lean back, looking up at the sky.
“Hell if I know,” he replies cheerfully. “Start building a house, I guess.”
I laugh again, startling myself with how easy it is. I didn’t think I remembered how. “Can it have a garden?”
“A dozen gardens.”
“And a bathtub?”
“Big enough for both of us.”
“Can I help?”
“I’m certainly not doing it all on my own.”
I shift my weight and lean against him.
“We should get some rest first,” he says, turning his head to touch his lips to my temple. “We can start on the house tomorrow. Shall we go back to the cave? Some idiot destroyed your bedroom.”
“Some idiot,” I echo, with a smile. “I don’t want to sleep in that cave again. Can we just sleep out here, under the sky, the way we used to? Before all this?”
“Anything you like.” He kisses my cheek again, still gentle, still hesitant, and disentangles his arm from mine so he can stand. “I’ll get the blankets from the cave. Tomorrow we’ll start planning our life as castaways.”
“We’ve already been living a life as castaways,” I point out. “I think we’ll be fine.”
He’s merely a shadow through the starlit trees as he makes his way back toward the cave. It’s not until he’s out of sight that I let my eyes close, tipping my head against the tree at my back, imagining I can feel the gentle glow of the stars on my cheeks.
All is silent and still. The air is crisp, and as I draw in a deep breath it sears the inside of my nose, tingling and strong.
“Rest,” I murmur.
Though whether I’m talking to myself, or to our absent friends, I don’t think I’ll ever know.
“Is that what this is about?”
“This is about the truth of what happened on that planet.”
“I’ve told you the truth.”
“None of what you’ve told us has explained the anomalies in Miss LaRoux’s medical tests.”
“Sorry, I don’t do well with big words. What do you mean?”
“Major, you know to what I am referring.”
“I’m pretty sure I don’t. Sir.”
FORTY
TARVER
I HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO SLEEP YET, but I don’t mind. I yawn, holding Lilac a little tighter. She murmurs in her sleep—one of those stubborn little sounds that melt me—and nestles in closer.
I’ve been looking up at the stars, familiar constellations now, and naming them. I squint at what I’ve decided to call the Lyre, tracing the shape of a harp over again as I learn it. From the bright star at the base, to the next above it, and then…the next star moves. So does its neighbor. I blink again, and they slide into focus.
They’re landing lights.
“Lilac, quick, wake up.” I scramble to sit up, reaching automatically for the Gleidel, though I don’t know what use it could possibly be. I lift my other hand to shield my eyes as the huge ship eases down toward us, thrusters rising to a steady roar. She’ll be landing no more than a klick or two away.
Lilac comes awake lashing out with one arm, and I catch hold of her wrist gently. “No—no, leave us alone! We did what you wanted!” Her voice is high with fear as she gazes up, blinking, trying to understand what she’s seeing.
“No, Lilac, it’s a ship. They must have registered the explosion or the energy surge. Quick, we have to move.” The dread’s heavy in my gut. If they find us, they’ll take us on board, and who knows what her medical tests will show? “Let’s try for the cave, they might have infrared.”
She’s still sitting there, staring, mouth a little open now. “A ship?” I can barely hear her whisper.
“We can’t let them find us. Come on.” I reach down for her hand to try to tug her up.
She resists, my stupid, stubborn girl, tugging back. How did she find this strength so quickly? “Tarver, what are you talking about? You can go home after all! We need to find them, make them take us with them.”
I drop to a crouch beside her, taking a breath, trying to slow myself. “I’m talking about us not knowing what’ll happen to you if they get their hands on you. Who knows what your father’s company will find if they do tests on you? Come on, there’s food in the cave. We can hole up there until they leave.”
“Tarver, no.” There’s a hint of that old LaRoux steel in her voice, but it’s tempered now, warmer. “We’re getting on that ship. You’re going home.”
“Lilac, I’ve made my choice, we don’t have time for this conversation.”
Behind me, the landing lights are moving lower, and the whine of the engines is growing deeper. I’ve heard this a thousand times. Usually it’s a welcome sound. They’re nearly down.
“No.” She’s soft, but sure. “I’m going with you. You kept telling me you’d take me home with you, and that’s what you’re going to do.” She squeezes my hand, climbing to her feet now.
I want so badly to believe her, but the bitter twist of fear inside me says she’ll do anything to keep me safe. She’d lie to my face if she thought it would save me.
I know she would. I’d do the same for her.
She reaches up to curl a hand around the back of my neck, pulling my head down so her forehead can press against mine. “I know what you would’ve given up for me. I could never let that be for nothing.”
We stand like that for an instant, forever, and I try to reach inside myself for that trust. She waits, watching me, sure I’ll make the leap for her.
I straighten up, reaching for her hand to lead her toward the rescue ship. She sees my decision on my face and opens her mouth to speak when she’s interrupted by a new sound—in the distance, there’s undergrowth snapping, crunching, booted feet moving toward us. I realize the sound of the ship has vanished.
They’ve landed. We don’t have much time before they find us.
Lilac turns back to me, suddenly intent. “They’re going to ask questions.” Her hand tightens around mine. “We need our stories straight.”
“Too much risk in both of us lying. You tell them nothing. Be the girl they expect. Distressed, pissed off. Shout for your father, cry if you can, but don’t answer their questions. Be a princess.”
She’s shaking her head, her eyes on mine. There are flashlights in the distance, but here there are only the stars overhead to light her face. “I don’t want you to have to face them alone. You don’t know what my father’s company is capable of—”