A Fractured Light (3 page)

Chapter 4

W
hen I woke in the morning, sunlight was streaming through my window. Birds chirped outside, and if I closed my eyes and just listened to the music of the woods, I could almost imagine being back in my bed at home. My homesickness was an ache growing inside me.

I turned to see if Asher had come up to my room in the night, but the rocking chair was empty. In fact, everything was strangely silent and still.

In the hall, the quiet was deafening. No hushed conversations came from downstairs. No low tones. I was alone in the house for the first time.

So I explored. In my little bedroom, in addition to the bed and the rocking chair, there was a low wooden chest of drawers. The drawers stuck a little from disuse, but I managed to get them open one by one. Inside were bits of evidence that the cabin had been inhabited once. An old cable-knit fisherman’s sweater was folded up in the bottom drawer. I pulled it over my head, and the heavy wool fell in baggy folds around me. It was a man’s sweater. But even though I was swimming in it, and even though it had belonged to a stranger, something about it felt comforting. I rolled up the sleeves and kept pawing through the remaining drawers, but they yielded nothing more.

Next to the bedroom was a rusty bathroom with a warped mirror hanging over a chipped, white enamel sink and a toilet with an old-fashioned hanging chain. I stared at myself in the mirror, like I had done a few times since I’d been here. There was a bruise under my left eye and a giant scratch across my cheek. I ran my finger over it, remembering that my anger had caused the earth to rumble in the clearing and a tree to fall. Asher had swooped in to save me just in time. I’d been mad at him for keeping the Rebellion’s plans from me. He’d lied to me, but as I thought about the night before, I realized he had done it to protect me. To keep me sane when everything in my life was changing. He was doing it because he loved me. That was a crime I could never hold against him. It was nothing like what Devin had done.

As my finger trailed over the dried blood and puckered skin, I could feel something in me changing. I glanced up to meet my own gaze in the mirror, and my eyes flashed—a bright, metallic silver. My heart beat faster and I gripped the edges of the sink, but when I blinked, they were gray again. I turned the handle of the faucet to try to wash my face, and the pipes gave a low, rusty hum, but no water came out.

I would go back to exploring. I would try to forget about what could be making Asher so afraid. I had been powerful in the woods the night I’d almost died, and I could still feel it in me. Maybe I could start learning how to protect
myself
.

There was one more door upstairs. I opened it to reveal an old cupboard with rows of tiny drawers, like an apothecary’s cabinet. The sort of strange closet that would get built into an old cabin like this. A thrill welled inside me as I thought about what things I might find in these drawers. I pulled the sweater tighter around me and stood on tiptoe to open the top drawer.

Nothing.

I moved on to the second drawer. It was empty, too. When my hand touched the tiny handle on the third drawer, sudden heat scorched my skin. I pulled away instantly, but I knew there had to be something in there.
Something my powers are reacting to
, I realized. Slowly I went to reach for it again.

“Skye?” Ardith called from downstairs. “We come bearing breakfast!”

I stared longingly at the little drawer, vowing to come back to it later. “I’ll be down in a second!” I called.

Asher was rummaging through the kitchen cabinets as I came down the stairs, while Ardith was chopping some root vegetables—carrots and beets and parsnips. I wished she wasn’t there so Asher and I could talk about what had happened.

“I take it you guys weren’t out hunting?” I joked.

Asher’s back muscles tensed, but he didn’t turn around.

“What are you looking for?” I asked, trying to keep up the lightness in my voice.

“Found it.”

Asher turned around, an ancient can of coffee and a tin coffee press in hand—the kind Aunt Jo and I took camping with us. He looked up at me, his eyes soft and hopeful. Almost like a peace offering.

“Coffee!” My body shook like an addict at the thought of a cup. I yelped and threw my arms around him.

“Hey, let go,” he said, laughing. “You’re only delaying the coffee-making process.”

I backed away quickly. “Oh, no. Sorry, sorry. Go ahead.”

He grinned. “Can you break off a few icicles from the windowsill? There’s no running water.”

My snow boots sat by the door, so I slipped them on and made my way outside into the frosty woods. I hadn’t been out of the house yet, and I had to bring a hand up to shield my eyes from the bright sunlight. The light bounced off the row of icicles hanging from the window ledge, throwing tiny rainbows onto the snow. I squinted, remembering how Asher had caused an icicle to fall from a tree branch, not far enough away from Devin’s head. The memory stirred up something in me, and I felt myself grow hot underneath the heavy sweater. My cheeks burned, despite the frigid temperature outside.

No, this is good
, I thought.
Use this.

I focused all of my energy on one of the icicles hanging from the top of the window frame. As I stared hard, it began to glisten brighter, shining in the sun the way ice does when it’s finally beginning to thaw. A drop of water splashed to the ground below and turned to ice. Then another, and another.

As I watched, the base of the icicle weakened. It snapped from the sill, and I reached out my hands to catch it. Surprised, I looked up through the window. Asher was staring at me, a strange, thoughtful grin on his face. When he caught my eye, he quickly turned away.

One by one, I caught the remaining icicles as they fell. Inside, Asher created a fire on the stove and melted the icicles in a dented tin camping pot. Then he made coffee and poured it, steaming, into three chipped blue-and-white ceramic mugs.

Ardith, Asher, and I had breakfast at the big farm table. Asher grinned at me tentatively over the lip of his mug.

“Now that I’m feeling better, will you tell me more about that night in the woods with Devin?” I asked. “How did you find this place?”

Asher’s face suddenly grew serious, and he glanced at Ardith, who nodded slightly.

“You were losing a lot of blood,” he said. “I knew I didn’t have time to take you to the Rebel camp, and I didn’t know what your powers might cause once you were there. You’d just destroyed an entire clearing in the woods—just because you were angry. It was terrifying.”

“Wow.” I was capable of doing something like that? It seemed so impossible.

“I was frantic, and soon I saw this cabin below us. I knew I had to get you here, to save you.”

“He summoned me,” Ardith said, continuing on. “I’ve never seen him so shaken up. I spun Rebel protections around the house. Fog and rain, heavy snow. To block us from sight.”

“I kept you warm,” said Asher. “It took a few days, but the bleeding finally stopped and you woke up.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Thank you both, so much. I owe you my life. I don’t know what would have happened if . . .”

“You would have died,” Asher said simply. “The Order’s plan would have worked.”

I shivered as I thought about how badly the Order wanted me dead. What kind of a threat did I really pose to them? Asher and Ardith had said I was a weapon, but what did that really mean? I brought my hand up to my stomach without thinking, running my hand over the wound. But again, the skin was smooth.

Wait a minute.
A wound as deadly as the one Asher said I had doesn’t just heal on its own so quickly. I should have had a big, ugly gash to show for what had happened. Neither Asher nor Ardith had the power to heal. It wasn’t a Rebel power. That was something only the Guardians could do.

So what weren’t they telling me?

My mind flashed to Devin. He had that power. He’d tried to get it to manifest in me, too. But my one small attempt to revive a withered flower had been in vain.

Devin had healed my broken ankle on the ski trip. Surely he was capable of healing a stab wound. He cared about me, right? He’d told me so in the clearing after he’d pulled the sword from me.
Falling in love with you was one more thing I couldn’t help.
His blue eyes had been full of anguish. What if he had had a change of heart, regretted what he did? Did he still care about me, enough to save my life?

Don’t be stupid, Skye
. I mentally kicked myself.
He tried to kill you, just a few days ago. It’s over.

It was true. Devin had been a friend when I needed a friend the most. He’d risked a lot for me, too. And he’d betrayed me worse than anyone else could have.

I pushed the memory to the very back of my mind as Asher reached a hand across the table and covered mine with it. His fingers were still warm from holding his coffee mug—or maybe it was just him.

“Want to take a walk?” he asked. “Are you feeling up to it?”

I looked up at him and tried to relax. I trusted that Asher would do whatever he had to do to keep me safe. I had to stop questioning everything.

“Sure,” I said.

We bundled up in all the layers that we had with us. Despite the cold, it felt good to be outside. Ardith stood in the doorway summoning snow, strengthening the elemental protections around us. It fell in heavy waves, making it hard to see. Snowflakes clung to my lashes and sparkled in Asher’s hair.

“That’s a good look for you,” I said, taking his hand.

He grinned at me sheepishly and self-consciously brushed his hands through his hair. We kept walking. Neither of us said much. There was so much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t think of where to start or how to form the words. I just squeezed his hand tighter. Eventually the snow made it too hard to see, and we slowed to a stop.

“Okay,” he said. “I don’t know what else to do to find our way back. Don’t tell Ardith.” He winked and took both of my hands in his, holding them up palm to palm. “Close your eyes,” he said. “Focus your energy.” He closed his eyes, then opened one of them again. “Like you did with the icicles earlier.”

I did. I thought about Asher, the palms of his hands resting against mine and how good it felt. How much I cared about him. What he was willing to do to save my life. Before I knew it, I felt a gentle warmth on my face.

I opened my eyes. A soft glow surrounded us, forming a protective shield that kept the snow from getting in our eyes. I peered ahead and could see a ball of fire just in front of us. “It will guide us back through the snow. Come on.”

We walked back, again in silence. The little orb of fiery light led the way. After all of the drama of the past few days, I was grateful for the chance just to walk, side by side, with Asher. To let him hold my hand as if it were all that mattered in the world.

Because with all that was coming, I knew the feeling wouldn’t last.

We spent the rest of the day inside with the curtains drawn, a roaring fire in the fireplace. I was surprised at how easy it felt just to hang out with Asher and Ardith, listening to stories from their childhood with the Rebellion.

“The elders could never keep us in line.” Ardith laughed. “Little Rebels causing mischief every chance we got.”

“We were terrible,” Asher said, grinning at me. “They used to tell us stories about the Rogues to shut us up.”

“What are Rogues?” I asked.

“Rogue angels,” Ardith said, then more slowly, “Rogues,” as if the secret to the word might be hidden somewhere in the word itself. “It’s just a legend.”

I leaned forward on the moth-eaten couch. “What?” I asked. “Tell me.”

“They’ve been telling this story to Rebel children to keep them in line for generations,” Asher said. “The Rogues are the children of Rebels and humans. They’re even more unpredictable than we are because they hold no allegiance. Not to the Rebellion—and definitely not to the Order.”

“In the legends, they hold a grudge against the Rebellion,” said Ardith. “Rogues live on Earth, indistinguishable from humans. They know what they are, and they can recognize full angels—Rebels and Guardians. But they can’t distinguish other Rogues. And we can’t recognize them.” She shivered. “They lead a confused, lonely life. Often have trouble settling down and being happy. They used to tell us that the Rogues were constantly trying to find a way into the Rebellion camp—someplace they were never allowed. That they would come for us in the night, and kill little Rebel babies as revenge and out of jealousy. The poor, tortured Rogues. They had no true home.”

“Earth wasn’t their home?” I offered.

“But they never really belonged there,” Asher said. “When we got older, the legend was more that they were trying to start their own faction. One that adhered neither to the Rebellion’s ways nor to the Order’s. A new way of living.”

“But those were just stories,” Ardith said, standing. “That never happened. If they were planning a new movement, as far we know, they never succeeded.” She walked toward the kitchen. “I’ll see what else we can eat,” she said.

When she was gone, Asher put his arm around me, and I snuggled deeper into him. It was hard to believe that just a few days ago, I’d almost died. Sitting here around the fire, I could have forgotten that the Order was out to kill me. It was true that we didn’t have running water or heat or electricity, but I felt safe and happy here. And not just from the Order, either—from all of my troubles at home, too. I shrank under the weight of what I might face going back there.