Summer Ruins (20 page)

Thanks again for sending Deshi. I would be desolate without him, honestly, and it was his idea to write you a letter. I just wanted to let you know that we’re all here and on your side, and want you guys to come back. Say hi to Lucas and Pax for me.

Brittany

The letter is nice and informative, but it cuts concern through my happiness at hearing all of the news from Deadwood. Nice isn’t Brittany’s default setting, so it makes me worry about how she’s really doing. It can’t have been easy there alone all that time, and getting thirty-nine strangers on the same page must have been difficult. I hope she can handle it.

I close my eyes for a second, imagining an ink pen, and when I look again it’s cool between my fingers. I sit and flip Brittany’s note over, scribbling on the back:

Brittany,

You can’t imagine how good it is to hear from you, and to know that all is well at the cabin. I’m glad that Wolf and the Sidhe are doing okay. The boys and I will talk about what, if anything, we can do for Nat. Thank you for any and all help you’re able to give us with bringing Deshi around. I hope that you’re right about him—that we all are.

There are two things I think you’d like to know. First of all, the name of the element the Others require for survival is called neodymium on the table of elements, but the sort they’re mining isn’t exactly the same—it’s a variation that the humans were apparently not aware of or that the Others purposefully removed from our textbooks. Instead of oxidizing yellow, it turns pink in the air (as you know), but it’s a similar soft metallic substance embedded in the planet’s crust. If you can figure out its components, that would be a big help
.

I don’t want to say anything about our plan, not yet, not in writing.

Second, Leah is alive and well.

I know things have not been easy for you, Brittany, but you’re strong. We’re working hard at figuring out how to get back to the cabin. Deshi might be the answer, if he can be fully convinced. Keep working on him.

Don’t lose hope,

Althea

I imagine a fresh envelope and seal the letter inside, wincing at the bitter taste of the glue. It’s weird that an envelope I imagined would taste bad. Deshi’s right. I don’t understand the hive mind at all. With any luck—okay, with a ton of luck—we’ll get rid of the Others and I’ll never need to set foot in this place again.

Outside, I set the reply in Deshi’s hand. There’s nothing in it that would be terrible for him to see, and if he read Brittany’s it would have only bolstered his faith in the humans he’s met. He cuts a glance to the left, and moisture immediately dampens my palms.

“What? Is someone coming?”

He nods slowly and heat builds inside me, ready to pour out at whoever rounds the corner. Deshi puts a hand on my arm. “It’s okay, Althea. She only wants to talk to you.”

My mother’s thick crimson curls pop into the corridor. She stays a safe distance away, but I could only think of two women when Deshi said that, and Flacara is preferable to Kendaja any day.

Kendaja doesn’t seem much for girl talk.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Deshi starts to leave without a backward glance.

“Hey, Deshi?” I call out.

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For saving our lives.”

That startled look that stutters through his gaze every time I say something nice makes an appearance, and then he nods. He’s gone a second later, and Fire takes his place at my side.

“Althea.” She pulls me into a hug before I can decide whether or not it’s okay. It’s strange—previously she’s been hesitant to touch me, kind of the way I am with Deshi. Worried that she’ll scare me away by forcing me into a relationship I’m not ready for, I think.

A force pulses between us, hot and powerful enough to make me gasp before she steps away. “It’s the element inside us. It matches, so it attracts and grows when we get close.” A faraway smile touches Flacara’s lips. “When you were little and I’d hug you, you’d let me for a minute and then you would jump back like I threw you and go, ‘Boom, mama! Boom!’ And you’d keep saying it and giggling and running away when I tried to hug you again.”

I stare at her, stunned at this simple insight into a time in my life I can’t remember, but one in which I must have been happy. Loved. Part of a family.

Flacara’s smile turns sad as her eyes slide over my face. “That was your favorite word.
Boom
. Your father loved it.”

With that she turns and steps through my barrier. The one no one but Lucas, Pax, and I are supposed to be able to penetrate.

Chapter 20.

After my body catches up with my eyes, I shoot into my sinum after her. “How did you do that? You’re not supposed to be able to get in here!”

Panic raises my voice until it’s shrill even to my ears, but my mother doesn’t flinch. Her eyes lock on my face, and after a moment I calm down. My legs shake from fatigue and fear, and I imagine a fluffy sofa such as the one Greer brought to her alcove one day, flopping onto it when it appears.

My mother raises an eyebrow. “Let me guess, one of the Sidhe put that idea in your head.”

“What makes you say that?”

“They are a particularly self-indulgent species.”

“Well, Greer’s been a better friend to me than you ever have.” It’s petulant and mean, but it slips out anyway. For some reason, I want to hurt Flacara. I want her to pay for creating me and then leaving me alone, for not being there for over ten years while I went to bed and woke up with strangers who didn’t know me at all.

She sighs, sinking down beside me even though I didn’t invite her. “I don’t blame you for being angry with me, Althea. I wish we had time to work everything out, but we don’t.”

I cross my arms, scooting to one end of the couch so we’re not touching. I think of the comfort I drew from being crammed into a bed with Emmy, Reese, and Leah earlier tonight, and how being able to curl into my mother would feel. It’s a thing I have craved, always. To be able to bury my face in my mother’s lap, for her to thread her fingers in my hair and tell me everything will be okay.

That was before I knew my mother was Flacara. An Element, an Other.

A monster.

And maybe she’s not that last thing, but I can’t let myself relax into this relationship. Losing it again, or being betrayed by her one more time… I’m afraid it would be the end of me.

“How
did
you get in here? Is it because you’re my mom?”

She fights a smile at my casual use of the term. “No. The Prime has us working on getting through the barrier you created for Nat. Or that Lucas created. It took us a while, but we did discover a way to cross through any wall that contains a piece of our own Element.” Flacara covers my hand with hers. “We haven’t told the Prime, but it’s only a matter of time before he stops believing us and finds out the truth.”

“Wait, I thought the Elements were like us—you can keep the Prime from your thoughts, right?”

“The Prime, yes, but not from one another. The four Elements are not united in our goals, and haven’t been since last autumn.”

“Pamant will tell the Prime you can get into our sinums, and he’ll force you to hurt us until we tell him everything?” I spit the words at her, but my traitorous heart refuses to believe it. We haven’t come this far for our parents to be the ones to defeat us.

“We won’t do that, Althea. I am firmly on your side, whatever the cost. Pamant is the only one willing to hurt the three of you, and that is only because Deshi remains within his grasp. He’s been able to love and spend time with his son these past months, so don’t blame him for not wanting to lose that. I don’t.” She sighs, reaching out to smooth the hair off my forehead. I let her. “That said, Deshi is yours for the taking. Whatever you revealed to him while you were kept at the Underground Core changed him. He may not realize it fully yet, but I believe he will help you in your time of need.”

All of this information sinks in while my mind tries to sort it into compartments that make sense. I go back a few beats. “The Prime wants Nat back badly enough to use you to get to him? Why?”

Her eyes turn sad. “The Wardens do not betray the Prime. I’ve never seen it happen in my lifetime, and there are no stories about it happening. Ever. It’s my opinion that he will study Nat’s brain to try to discern the malfunction, then kill him. Honestly, the process will probably render him a vegetable before his death.”

Nausea burns my stomach. The Prime
would
consider love a malfunction. Poor Nat. And Greer—what will she think when she wakes up to find him gone? What will she do?

Losing her isn’t something I’m ready to do. I have Leah now, and maybe Brittany and I could be friends, but Greer is special. She’s the first girlfriend I ever had, the first person aside from Lucas and Pax to make me feel as though what I have to say is important. “How long until the Prime gets him?”

“If we’re lucky? A week or two. And aside from your affection for Greer, there’s a bigger problem than Nat’s death.”

I think for a moment. “If they get through the barrier they can track him. They’ll know where he is.”

“Yes. If he’s hidden with the Sidhe or anyone else you don’t want compromised, you’ll need to move them.”

“Move them? We’re trapped on an island made of ice, traipsing through mines sixteen hours a day and desperately trying to figure out a plan the other eight! How am I supposed to do anything but watch them all die?” I’m yelling, but I don’t care.

My legs tremble and jerk, needing to move, so I get up, pacing the small space five or six times before I stop and stare at her. My heart pounds, anger and impotence racing through me, but Fire doesn’t have the answers. She’s an Other; they can’t travel. She can’t bring Cadi and Ko back to life, or give me my bracelet.

We might have help in this world, but not from her. The Elements’ assistance is confined to what they can do from the hive or the Underground Core, and even then, only without detection. It’s not their fault. It’s who they are, and if I’ve learned anything since this all began last autumn, it’s that there’s no changing that.

We’re safe in our minds, at least for now, and I’m not losing anything except more sleep. If there’s one thing I know how to cope with, it’s functioning with little to none of that. After a few deep calming breaths, I sit next to her again. It’s impossible to know if we’ll ever have another opportunity to speak in private, or if tomorrow the Prime will discover baby Elements among his population and kill us in our sleep.

“What do you want to know?” She guesses my intention in a soft voice.

It almost brings me to tears the way this woman knows me even though we’ve been separated for so long. I swallow the emotion, trying hard to keep a wall between my feelings and Flacara, but at best it’s a screen door. “Will you tell me about my dad?”

“Of course.” Fire settles back into the cushions of my imagined couch, tucking her feet underneath her. She twists a lock of her hair between her fingers, the same thing I do when I’m trying to decide what to say.

I try to relax next to her, making a conscious effort to leave my legs stretched in front of me to avoid an identical posture to hers.

“His name was Ben Davies. We met in a place called Washington, D.C., which used to be the capital city of the United States of America.” She raises her eyebrows at me, a silent question as to whether I know what that means.

“We found some maps and Cadi told us about where we’re all from. Before… while she still could.”

“The Spritans were a great help to all of us, Althea.”

“And they paid for it.”

“Both Cadi and Ko were willing participants in protecting your lives and our secrets. Feel sorry that they are no more, but not that they helped. They would not be sorry.” Her tone turns stern, her gaze insistent.

I nod, but not because she’s intimidating me. Because it somehow dishonors their memory to wish they had never been involved.

“What were Pax’s and Lucas’s mothers’ names?” I want to know so I can tell them. It shouldn’t be just me who gets this priceless look into the family that was torn from me at five years old.

“Lucas’s mother was Sophie Belgarde. She was from a truly beautiful city called Paris, in a country called France. She was a singer. Pax’s mother was Gisela Alves, from a seaside town in Brazil named Recife. An artist. She painted pictures.”

I lock their names and places of origin into place in my memory before she goes on.

“Your father worked as a clerk for a judge. A judge is what it sounds like—someone who hears arguments from two parties and decides who is right based on the laws of America. And Ben clerked for—assisted—one of the highest judges in the land.”

“How did you meet?”

“We met in the courtroom. I was doing reconnaissance, checking out how the country’s legal system functioned and who held the most power in the government. He confronted me outside the courthouse—that’s where the human judges heard cases—thinking I was a spy for one of the parties involved.” She’s smiling at the memory and, in spite of everything, it warms my heart. I can picture the story in my head, except for one thing.