Spark: A Sky Chasers Novel (21 page)

But when she closed her eyes, all she saw was that animalistic face twisted with fury as iron hands squeezed her throat. Every detail of him was crystallized in her mind: his receding hairline, his large, oily pores, his rotten breath, the sweat that had run in streaks down to the tip of his nose, where it lingered, then fell in droplets that splashed on her face, her neck, her hair. Her vertebrae had ground together under his fingers, and she’d heard the crackling of her larynx. She forgot Seth was in the room. She forgot where she was. She was dying, alone with her killer. She’d kicked, trying to twist out of his grasp, but he was impossibly strong, and he was huge.

She’d known fear before, of course, but this terror at the end of her life had been new. It hollowed her out, debased her, turned her into nothing more than airless lungs and bloodless brain. A gray cloud had crept into the borders of her vision, and a voice inside her had screamed,
I’m dying! I’m dying now!

When she had wakened in the infirmary, she couldn’t feel her own body. There were people leaning over her, talking about her, shouting at her, but she couldn’t speak to them. She wasn’t sure she was in the same space with them. They were the living, and she was dead.

Then she must have turned her head, and she’d seen Seth in the next bed over, looking at her.

I’ve come back,
she’d thought.
I’m alive again.

After all that, Kieran had sent her down to this cold, comfortless, lonely place. He’d banished her.

He must really hate me.

Waverly shook her head, wincing at the pain in the base of her skull. She felt tears running down the sides of her face, across the indentations of her temples, into her hair. She’d known Kieran didn’t love her anymore. That had been clear for a while, and she’d accepted it. But now he’d become her enemy.

I knew this might happen,
she told herself fiercely. She didn’t like her own grief. She longed for the time to come when she no longer mourned the loss of her old life, when she no longer cared so much about the future. At some point she had to become hardened so that it wouldn’t hurt anymore. She felt parts of herself starting to break, like fibers in a twisted palm frond giving in little by little. What would happen when she finally gave way?

“I’ll go crazy,” she whispered, and opened her eyes.

She’d lost some time somehow. Had she slept? Someone had turned off the lights. Now her cell was dim, with only a small bulb glowing over her metal sink. The only sound was the hiss of her oxygen tube.

“No you won’t,” she heard, and turned to Seth.

He was looking at her in the faint light as he lay on his cot, breathing in short bursts that hollowed out his belly. He smiled meagerly.

“Somewhere along the line,” she said through the pain in her throat, “after everything we’ve been through, we’ll break.”

“Then what?”

She shook her head, then cried out from pain all through her neck, in the muscles and the bones. Her hand flew up to her throat. If there had been someone nearby, a guard or a medic, she’d ask for a pain reliever, but there was no one. “Then,” she whispered, “it might be a relief to go crazy.”

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “But you won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“By now you’d already
be
crazy.”

She closed her eyes. Maybe he was right. But she wished sometimes that she could just give up and forget about all the things she felt obligated to fight for. Let someone else worry about it.

“Waverly,” Seth whispered.

She turned to look at him.

“There’s a bag buried in the conifer bay, in the juniper grove. It’s marked with a branch of holly on top. Lots of red berries. Easy to spot if you’re looking for it.”

She wrinkled her brow. “What are you talking about?”

“If something bad happens, you’ll need what’s in it.”

“What’s in it?”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to say, so she knew.

“It won’t come to that,” she said quietly.

He raised one eyebrow at her, and she felt foolish for saying such a naive, childish thing.

The hallway light blinked on, and Waverly heard footsteps approaching. She was surprised to see Tobin Ames come to stand outside her cell. He swayed on his feet, looking utterly spent, and held up a syringe with raised eyebrows. “More anti-inflammatory for the lady?”

“Okay,” she said.

He pulled a key from a hook on his belt and turned the lock to her cell. When he crossed the threshold, the lights flickered on, and Waverly squinted against the brightness. Tobin swabbed her shoulder with alcohol and sank the needle into her muscle.

“You’re good at that,” she whispered.

He didn’t acknowledge the compliment, and instead handed her a couple of pills with a cup of water to wash them down. “For the pain,” he said.

She studied his face. “How’d it go with the little boy? Philip?”

“You wouldn’t have believed the blood,” Tobin said. “But now there’s room in his head for his brain.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Seth asked from across the hallway.

Tobin shook his head. “Victoria Hand says he might survive, but he’ll probably never be the same again.”

Waverly let out a whimper, and fresh tears ran down her face.

“Hey.” She felt a thumb on her chin, and she looked at Tobin. “Cry later, okay? Being upset right now isn’t good for you.”

She nodded and took deep breaths through her ragged throat.

Tobin left her cell, locked the door behind him, and stood outside Seth’s cell.

“You going to let me treat you without any trouble?”

“Why, you scared of me?”

“You could crumble me up like dry leaves,” Tobin said frankly.

“Not now, I couldn’t,” Seth said, and lifted a limp arm to show how weak he was.

“There are four guards at the end of the hallway, and you won’t get past them, just so you know,” Tobin said, then fitted his key into the lock and entered Seth’s cell. He handed over Seth’s pills, which Seth swallowed dry. When Tobin administered the shot, Seth winced.

“Wimp,” Waverly said.

“Not everyone can have the superhuman strength of a hundred-and-ten-pound girl,” Seth said.

“You two are real cards.” Tobin yawned like a monster, showing all his teeth.

“Go get some sleep,” Waverly told him.

Tobin nodded and shuffled out of Seth’s cell. He started down the hallway but paused and turned around. “And just for the record, I think Kieran sending you down here after you caught the terrorist is rubbish,” Tobin said, then tilted his blockish head slightly. “Even though, Seth, you were kind of a bastard when you were in charge.”

“Thank you for your support,” Seth said blandly.

“You were,” Tobin insisted, sticking out his chin.

“Yeah, I know!” Seth said irritably.

“Well if you can admit it to me, maybe you can admit it to everyone, throw your support behind Kieran publicly, and this whole thing can end.”

“You think that would do it?” Seth said skeptically.

“Worth a try,” Tobin said with a shrug before he headed off down the hallway, yawning again. He disappeared into the shadowy hallway between the cells faster than Waverly liked. This place was all cold metal, all unyielding edges, nothing soft or warm.

“Maybe he’s right,” Waverly said. “Maybe Kieran just needs to know you won’t stage another mutiny.”

“Oh yeah? And how are
you
going to redeem yourself?”

“Maybe I should apologize, too,” she said wistfully.

“So you think you were wrong to help me?”

She turned to look at him and saw a wounded expression in his poor, reddened eyes. “No, Seth.”

Saying his name aloud shifted something inside of her. She thought she saw the change happen in him, too. His eyes softened, his cheeks sank inward, and he bit his bottom lip. If she’d been looking at anyone but Seth Ardvale, she’d think that was the face of someone who was about to cry.

They looked at each other across the hallway until the lights flickered back off. Now that she’d had her steroid shot, her fear of dying in her sleep had subsided, and she realized she was drowsy. Waverly felt her eyelids droop, and she surrendered.

When she awoke, she was looking at the olive-shaped face of Alia Khadivi, watching through the bars of her cell with warm eyes. “Are you well?”

“I’m sore,” Waverly croaked. Her throat felt scraped bloody, and it was dry from sleep. “I need water.”

“Guard!” Alia shouted down the hallway, and soon Hiro appeared, his features immobile. When Alia pointed at the lock on Waverly’s cell, he obediently fitted the key into it and opened the door.

Alia went to the sink that stood against the wall of Waverly’s cell to fill a plastic tumbler with water, then knelt by Waverly, very gently lifted her head, and held the rim of the cup to her lips. The water was cold, tasted clean and sweet, and Waverly gulped it down.

“More,” she croaked.

Alia patiently brought Waverly several tumblers full of water until her thirst was sated. Then she sat on the edge of Waverly’s cot and took her hand. Her dry palm felt sisterly, comforting on Waverly’s cold hand.

“I’ve gotten a court order from the Justice of the Peace to release you. Doctor Tobin is waiting outside with a wheelchair to take you back to the infirmary.”

Waverly smiled at her friend. “How did you do that?”

“Very simple.” Her ruby lips turned upward at the corners. “Seth was never charged with a crime, so at the time you helped him, he could not technically be considered a fugitive.”

“So Seth can get out, too?”

She heard Seth chuckle in the other cell, but she could not see him because Alia was in the way.

“No, because Kieran finally brought formal charges against him.”

“And they are?” Seth rasped. He was leaning up on one elbow, but from the way his head weaved, Waverly could see this cost him a great deal of effort.

Alia hesitated, but she turned to Seth, and now Waverly could get a glimpse of him. He still looked gray. The whites of his eyes had congealed into pink puddings, and he licked at his dry lips. He’d gotten worse.

“Kieran is accusing you of attempted murder,” Alia said to him.

“Sounds about right,” Seth said before collapsing back onto his cot.

“Seth needs medical attention,” Waverly said.

“I can see that. I will appeal to the Justice that Seth be released to the custody of the infirmary.” She turned again to Seth. “How long can you last?”

“I need water,” Seth said. He tried to get up from his cot, but he was too weak and fell back again.

“Hiro! I need to see Seth Ardvale for a moment,” Alia said, and Hiro came and let her out of Waverly’s cell, then led her to Seth’s and unlocked the door. He stood over Seth, one hand on his nightstick and the other on a can of mace that was hooked to his belt, but he needn’t have been so vigilant. When Alia held a cup of water to Seth’s lips, he was barely strong enough to lift his head off his pillow to drink.

Suddenly an angry voice echoed down the hallway. “It’s pointless to hold me!”

“He’s awake,” Waverly said, chilled.

“He is a very frightening man.” Alia shuddered. “The way he looked at me when I walked past him. He recognized me from the New Horizon, I think.”

“Do you remember him?”

“No.” Alia shook her head.

“When can we question him?”

Alia’s expression clouded. “Kieran wants exclusive access to him.”

“He’s invoking Captain’s privilege to interview the terrorist?”

“And he’s shutting the Central Council out.”

“No,” Waverly said. Revived by the water, which seemed to loosen the blood in her veins, she found she could sit up, though she was very dizzy. “The Central Council should be there.”

“We’ll have to get past his guards,” Alia said with a glance at Hiro, whose eyes shifted to look at the wall, pretending to be deaf.

“We’ll get our own guards,” Waverly said.

“Do you intend to start a war with Kieran Alden?” Alia asked, one charcoal eyebrow raised.

“He’s the one who started it.”

Waverly heard footsteps in the hallway, and Tobin Ames appeared with a wheelchair. “Ready for your ride?”

“Look at Seth first,” Waverly said.

Tobin took in Seth’s poor color and labored breathing and shook his head. “He should have been under observation.”

“How’s Philip?” Seth asked in a throaty whisper.

“Alive,” Tobin said grimly. “If I knew how to run an electroencephalograph I’d tell you how his brain is, but I don’t. So we wait.” He lifted his eyes to Hiro, who stood staring at the wall. “Let me in so I can see my patient.”

Doctor Tobin, indeed,
Waverly thought. He’d taken to the role, if not with ease, then with a grim determination to learn fast and execute well.

Tobin shined a light in Seth’s eyes and down his throat, then took a syringe from his pocket. “I thought you might need some more of this.”

Seth accepted the shot with complete apathy, his body flat on his cot, his only movement his chest as he breathed in and out.

“Seth, I’m coming back down and I’m going to set you up with an IV,” Tobin said. “You need fluids and glucose to keep your strength up, okay?”

“You’re the doctor.”

“I wish I were.” Tobin looked at Hiro, who opened Seth’s cell door for him, locked it, and finally came into Waverly’s cell. Tobin helped Waverly sit up and then, with a hand in each of her armpits, assisted her into the wheelchair.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” Waverly said to Seth as Tobin wheeled her away.

“Okay,” Seth said, but she could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe she had the power.

Waverly leaned to her left, clinging to the arm of the wheelchair as Tobin slowly wheeled her toward her almost-murderer’s cell. Her breath came in gasps, and she felt beads of sweat mingle with the tiny hairs at her hairline. She could smell her own fear rising like a mist around her.

Sit up straight. Don’t let him see you like this
. Waverly straightened and crammed her hands under her thighs, and when she came even with his cell, she made herself look inside.