Summer Ruins (28 page)

Or maybe it is. If Lucas and I found ourselves in this situation, if he were ripped from me and I never had the chance to say good-bye, to kiss him one more time or tell him I loved him, if I didn’t get the opportunity to at least try to save his life, would I be any better off than Greer?

The mere thought of it sends my heart racing in fear, sucks the moisture from my mouth. I put my hands over Greer’s and squeeze. I don’t push her, don’t say anything. For a long time we stare at each other and I try to just be there, to be ready when she wants to talk. I’m guessing Griffin hasn’t been so accommodating; he’s probably been trying to snap her out of it by reciting a list of reasons why she can’t give in to the grief this way.

Like I told Deshi earlier this evening, our feelings can’t be changed simply because we want them to, or someone else says they aren’t valid. If she needs more time to come to grips with the way things are, how they’ll be from now on, then that’s okay.

***

It works sooner than I expect. The sun climbs a little higher, burning off some of the moisture in the air. Deshi and Griffin’s voices penetrate the silence but their words remain far off and indistinguishable. Greer’s eyes focus, almost surprised to see me, then fill with fresh tears.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” It’s another hunch, but Griffin’s personality leans more toward bucking up and moving on, not rehashing the source of the pain.

After a moment she nods and licks the tears from her chapped lips. “It’s good to see you.”

The simple statement wets my own eyes. “I thought you would hate me.”

“I did. I blamed you. But it’s not your fault, Althea. You and the boys, you’re doing the best you can. It’s not Griffin’s fault for getting us out of the cabin and leaving Nat, either, although he took a beating from me when we first got here.” She sighs, and her gaze turns inward again. They come back, winding relief through me. “It’s the Others. They got Nat back, and they killed him for… for loving me. So if anyone’s to blame for his death, I am.”

“No, Greer.
They
are. And Nat, he would have given everything to be with you.”

“I remember you taking the wall down that trapped me all that time, and coming into my alcove to wake me up. Then Griffin was dragging me out of the bed, and Wardens burst in and grabbed Nat. He was awake, Althea. He was so scared, and he screamed my name over and over until they hit him and he passed out.” Greer’s crying again, deep sobs that sound as though they’re ripping her insides into shreds trying to claw their way free. They tatter my own heart until it struggles to beat under the weight of her anguish.

There’s nothing I can say that will ever make it better. Instead I sit up and pull her into my arms. She lays there, her body limp but her arms locked around my waist so tight I can barely breathe.

Her hot breath gasps against my arm, tears scalding my skin. “I’m going to hear him screaming my name for the rest of my life. Every time I close my eyes, I see his beautiful, terrified face, his eyes full of fear—for
me
. He’s the one who told Griffin to get me away.”

I stroke her hair, weeping along with her at the last actions of the man who, regardless of everything else he was, loved Greer. He knew he would die, that the Prime would kill him, but her safety was what scared him. It’s so sad that a love as strong as theirs ended this way.

“I want to die, too.” She whispers the confession into the crook of my elbow, drawing her knees up to her chest as though a physical pain cripples her slight frame.

My knee-jerk reaction is shock, but I smother it. I try to put myself again in her shoes, to understand some tiny scrap of her pain. I thread my fingers through her hair, warming them slightly in an effort to keep her comfortable. “I know you do, Greer. You’ve spent all these years imprisoned to be close to him, and now he’s gone. Maybe you don’t know how to exist without him anymore.”

She doesn’t respond but curls into a tighter ball.

“But you can figure it out. I know you can. You’re strong, and Nat gave up his life struggling to make sure you still had one. Don’t throw it away.”

“Once we got here, Griffin and I fought. He held me down, kept us both here for hours before I convinced him to go to the Underground Core to try to save Nat.” She pauses, as though she’s seeing it all again in her mind. The promise of what’s to come, of what she was forced to witness, drips a cold stream of fear down my spine. “He was already dead. I hardly… I hardly recognized him. They beat him to pieces, Althea. So much blood, torn skin, broken bone. We took him. I made Griffin help me take him back through a portal, even though Kendaja saw us. They can’t follow him anymore, now.”

“Can they find you?”

She nods. “Yeah. We’re pretty far away right now, but we’re going to have to move pretty often. The magic in Ireland is hard for the Goblerts to navigate. Their powder gets them to the right region but not an exact location.”

The explanation makes me nervous, even though she seems confident that we’re safe, at least for now. “You’re sure they can’t get here?”

“The Others can’t travel without help from the Goblerts. Without the Spritans or the two of us, they don’t have any other option. In addition to Irish magic interfering with their powder, Dax is fond of us.” She pauses. “Of you, too. They’ll do what they can to stall.”

“Oh.” I’m quiet, letting the idea that we have more beings on our side sink in. If the only way the Others can find the Sidhe is with the Goblert’s help, and they can blame magic or Ireland or whatever for slowing them down, that’s good.

“Do you want to see him?” she asks softly.

“Who?”

“Nat,” she responds as though I asked the dumbest question in the world.

Actually, that’s the tone of voice the Sidhe use in response to the majority of my questions. “Sure.”

She struggles to a sitting position, rubbing some of the water from her eyes and cheeks, then to her feet. I follow suit, stepping toward the door before she spreads open a portal in the castle’s dank air. It shimmers blue and pink around the edges, bobbing as portals always do, and Greer raises her eyebrows at me. The expression reminds me of old Greer, the happy cynical girl, and twists my heart.

“Silly me, thinking we’d be walking.”

“You’re so funny, Althea,” she responds automatically.

There’s nothing to do but step through the portal, which ends in what might have been a more populated section of this strange country. A white and gray marble box rests in the center of ground that had once been paved with brick or stone, and a destroyed metal structure has collapsed off to one side. The stone that used to cover the ground is mostly smashed or missing, some flung yards away. Grass and weeds creep through, reclaiming the stolen area.

In the center is what appears to be a burial site, based on my recent experience in Deadwood. Greer picks her way over to the center and stops, staring down at a pile of dirt beside the grave. “Here he is.”

My eyes flit back and forth between the actual grave and the freshly turned earth, deciding she means the latter. A small pile of pretty stones are piled at one end, and ring the body-sized spot. They were placed by a careful hand. I press close to Greer, trying to offer comfort. “Why here?”

She nods toward the marble and stone box. “His name was Michael Collins. He was a revolutionary.” Greer cuts her eyes toward me. “A
dissident
.”

My heart stops beating. “You know what it means?”

“Michael Collins lived in a time when Ireland didn’t like being controlled by another country. I’m sure you can understand. Anyway, he led an important battle, he fought to free his people and give them independence. He almost died for the cause, and was sent away to a prison camp—a place not unlike the Harvest Site—but survived.” Her voice caresses the story, as though there’s something about it she loves as much as she loved Nat.

“So revolutionary means someone who fights authority because they believe their people deserve to control themselves,” I puzzle out slowly. “And dissident means the same thing?”

She nods, turning toward me. “Yes. That’s what you have always been, Althea. A fighter. Even when you didn’t know it, and before you realized you can do it.”

“I still don’t know if we can do it, Greer.”

“It doesn’t matter. Neither did Michael Collins, or anyone else who fought beside him.” She wanders away, collapsing under a sprawling tree in the shade as though the small excursion has exhausted her energy.

I follow, sitting next to her and letting the rough tree trunk prop me up.

“Earth doesn’t have a pretty history,” she continues. “Both bad and good make up every race of people, and sometimes the good have to fight for what’s right. They never know if they’ll win, and they lose innocent people—sometimes lots of them—in the process. But that’s never stopped them from fighting.” Though she doesn’t look at me, her hand does find mine. It’s stronger than it was an hour ago and determination flows from her words into me through our connected palms. “The loss, it can’t stop you, and it’s not going to stop me. I said I
want
to die, not that I’m going to make it happen. I’m going to live, so Nat didn’t save me for nothing.”

“We’re not giving up, either. The kids we unveiled, they’re figuring out how to use the dymium in our favor, and—”

“Stop. Don’t tell me any specifics, Althea. I can’t promise they’ll be safe.” She taps her temple, reminding me the Others have access to her in a way they don’t for me.

“So, you probably still can’t tell us anything helpful, either.”

“No. But I am going to tell you something you’re not going to like.”

Breath catches in my lungs, staling until my vision blurs around the edges. Greer looks into my eyes, and I notice idly that hers have lightened, if only a smidge.

“The Prime has your friends from the Harvest Site. He’s going to use them to try to get you back.”

Chapter 27.

“Who?” I manage to squeeze out of my oxygen-starved lungs.

“Don’t know their names. We saw them for a minute when we were looking for Nat. The Prime’s got them chained in the common room so the Wardens can… harass them at their leisure.” Greer won’t look at me, and that scares me more than anything else.

“What did they look like?” It has to be Emmy and Reese, but I hate the part of me that hopes it’s them and not Tommy. Not Jas. Leaving them out of the meetings had to count for something.

“Two girls, one with really short brown curls and the other a dirty blond. A really handsome boy, if you’re into that kind of classically good-looking thing.”

“No one else?”

“Not that I saw.”

I relax my grip on her arm, which I didn’t even realize I’d grabbed. It’s not that I want Emmy and Reese, or even Wes, to be captured and used as bait, but at least it’s not Tommy and Jas.

“Do you know what he’s planning?”

“No. But I’m sure he’ll find a way to let you know when he decides how they can best be used to lure you back into their clutches.” She gets up, rubbing dirt off the rear of her shorts. “Let’s go back. Griffin will be worried.”

We step through a portal back to the castle. Greer hasn’t returned to her former self, but she does seem better. She lets Griffin give her a hug, then tells Deshi it’s good to see he’s come to his senses.

“I should take you guys back now. Greer and I need to move.” Griffin leans close to his sister and sniffs, then wrinkles his nose. “Somewhere with running water this time, I think.”

Concern climbs back into his eyes when she doesn’t swat him. Instead she turns to me. “Thank you for coming, Althea. I knew you would understand. Is there anything you need that we can help you with right now?”

Deshi, who hasn’t said much, jumps in. “I already talked to Griffin about helping us get to Dallas through a portal so we won’t have to walk or split up.”

Relief washes through me that he’s been thinking ahead, and that we won’t have to tell Katie and the other injured kids that we’re leaving them behind. “That’s great, Griffin, thank you.”

“We’ve worked out a way to contact them, too, if we need their help again. I’ll fill you in when we get back. I imagine Lucas and Pax will have questions, too.” Deshi anxiously twists his hands together in front of him.

We’ve been gone too long. It was the amount of time I needed to get through to Greer, and to let her tell me what she needed to, but we don’t have hours to waste.

“Griffin and I will go ahead to Dallas and find a good place for you guys to hole up, then come back to South Dakota and get you later today.”

“Is it really safe for you to be with us?” She’s assured me once, and it seems wrong to bring it up again, but we have to know. If the Prime can find us through them, they have to stay away no matter how much help they’ll be.

Griffin answers before Greer can get huffy. “We won’t stay with you long enough to be traced, I promise.”

“Remember what I told you last spring, Althea? About how the Prime doesn’t know everything unless you bare it to him—if he has to go looking, he must explore until he finds the specific information he’s looking for?” I nod, and she continues. “The Prime has been in my head a few times, and it takes him about twenty minutes to pinpoint our location. Then the Goblerts have to transport the Wardens, but like I said, they miscalculate.”