The Diatous Wars 1: Rebel Wing (3 page)

Despite the war,
the World Council was held in Atlanta as planned. Panthea’s soaring, needle-thin glass capitol building gleamed in all the news vids, as reporters and the people of Atalanta speculated on whether this year’s Council would put an end to the conflict with Safara. No one was allowed in the building, no vids were released from within the opulent Council chambers, just terse statements read by Panthea’s mayor. This was protocol to protect the political process.

It was also to hide the fact that this year, the Council was not held in the capitol building, but deep below it.

Seated at a round table in the firebomb-resistant room, Galena Vadim remained quiet as the four other Wards argued. Their voices fought like an angry flock of birds above the woodpecker tapping of the mediator’s gavel.

Besides Galena, the only other woman in attendance was Sera, the Ward of Castalia. Thick gray hair was piled atop her head, bound with heavy gold ropes in the traditional Castalian style. Her cobalt and cream robes were bleached pale by the bright solar light that illuminated the room.

“While I sympathize with the plight of Atalanta,” she was saying, “Castalia has traded peacefully with Safara since before Ward Balias was elected. In good faith, I can’t support a move that would jeopardize the mutually beneficial relationship that exists between our dominions.”

“And you’re up for election this year, are you not?” Hal, Meridia’s Ward returned, his golden eyes gleaming beneath heavy dark brows. He wasn’t supporting sanctions either, but he never missed an opportunity to needle his southern neighbor.

“Now, you know perfectly well that has nothing—”

Bang, bang, bang!
The mediator, a tired, sallow man in white ceremonial robes, interrupted Sera’s retort with the pounding of his gavel.

“With all due respect,” Galena interjected in the brief silence, “we cannot,
in good faith
, let Ward Balias run unchecked either.” She cut her eyes to Balias. “Atalanta is a peaceful dominion, a target
only
because of its abundance of natural resources and position along Safara’s border. Ruslana, at least, feels it necessary to strongly urge, by imposing the sanctions I suggested, that Ward Balias and his army stand down.”

Ward Balias’s brown eyes glittered as he met Galena’s gaze across the table. He was young for a Ward, younger than the rest of them, with sandy blond hair and a broad face worn to leather by the hot Safaran sun. Military trained and hard-muscled from years in the field, his whip-thin body fit awkwardly into the finely patterned tunic he wore.

“Ward Vadim,” he said, the long-suffering weariness of his voice at odds with his bright eyes, “perhaps I have not yet fully presented my case. The people of Safara are dying from the lack of clean water. Our irrigation has failed. Our crops have withered. My people are starving. The current trade agreements with your dominions do not offer enough resources.” He jerked his head toward Pyralis. “Ward Nekos has refused to renegotiate our agreement each of the last three years we’ve met at this World Council. He has refused to allow life-saving access to the Fex River for my people.”

Pyralis slammed his fist on the table. “You know well that the trade agreements you offered were in no way advantageous for the people of Atalanta! They were barely—”

“And war
is
advantageous for them, Nekos?” Ward Balias said, one brown eyebrow raised. The insult of using Pyralis’s name without his title shocked the room to silence.

Galena glanced at Pyralis. His dominion was under siege, his soldiers dying at the hands of Safaran assassins, and yet his weary eyes softened when they met her gaze. She frowned. Streaks of gray lined his temples. The stress of war had dug grooves along his forehead and the edges of his mouth. He looked different. Older.

There was a part of her, a mean, bitter part, that wanted to let his dominion burn.

She glanced down at her hands, as the bickering of the other Wards clamored around her once again. But she couldn’t—wouldn’t—let Atalanta fall.

A glass of water rested on the table before her, beads of condensation clouding its surface. She drew it to her lips and took a sip. If they’d just work together, if Sera would just
listen
—

The thought slid into blind panic as she suddenly wobbled in her chair, clutching her throat. Pyralis’s face blurred, then disappeared as a wave of darkness crashed over her. The glass slipped from her nerveless fingers and shattered on the floor, and then there was nothing but the black.

It was just
before midnight, a week after Calix had been selected for Military. Aris lay in bed, listening to the rain pound against the roof. Usually the sound soothed her, helped her slide into soft-focus dreams. But tonight, each ding was a knife driving into her chest. All she could think about was how different everything would be if it rained like this in Safara. If the desert didn’t suck its people dry.

Finally, Calix tapped a fingernail on the window. Aris slipped silently into the waterlogged night and straight into his arms. The time for casual greetings, for words, had passed. She threw herself against him, her hands snaking into his hair. His mouth found hers in the rain and the dark as he pressed her against the side of the house.

She ran her hands along his cheeks, his ears, his closed eyes, touching, memorizing. The slickness of his wet hair beneath her fingers, the sensation of his strong arms around her, the warmth that pooled in her belly when he pulled her closer, running his hands down her back. She found the hem of his Military-issue jacket and slid her hands underneath, paying attention to the smooth heat of his skin, vowing she’d remember the way his flat stomach felt against her fingers.

“Mosquito,” he whispered against her mouth. She shook her head and kissed him harder. She wasn’t ready for this moment to be over. Not when they had so few left.

His hands tightened on her waist. Finally, he pulled away. “Let’s get out of this rain,” he said, his voice hoarse.

He took her hand and led her down the glowing walkway, suspended high above the ground. Her bare feet slid along the wet surface but he kept her steady. When they reached the steep, rocky path that lead down to the beach, he insisted on carrying her, so her weak leg wouldn’t send her tumbling. He moved as swiftly and sure-footedly as the village donkeys, and soon enough they were ducking into their cave, a secret place they’d found years ago.

“I can’t believe you leave tomorrow,” Aris whispered as they sank to the cool sand. “It’s all happening too fast.” Her voice broke.

He sighed, wrapping an arm around her. “I know. I wish I didn’t have to leave so soon. Or at all.”

“You’ll write me as soon as you get to the training grounds?”

He squeezed her gently. “Of course. My digitablet is already packed. You can’t worry, though, if it takes a little while. I don’t know when I’ll have free time, if they’ll let us comm up right away. There might be rules. But as soon as I can, you know I will.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Such a useless thing to say.

“I don’t want to leave you.” He kissed her forehead.

“Please, Calix. Let’s Promise. We can do it right now, just the two of us.” The words were out before she could call them back. When he’d told her the night of the ceremony that he didn’t think they should Promise after all, she’d barely protested. She’d still been reeling from all the shocks of that day. But now . . . now the thought of him leaving without a Promise was a gaping cavern tearing open her chest.

“I want to, Aris.” Calix dug his toes into the sand, his eyes downcast. “But we said we’d wait. The point of a Promise is to be together, learn everything we can about each other.”

“We already know everything about each other.” She drew his hand into her lap. It was soft, with a patch of thicker skin along his right middle finger, from holding countless mediguns.

Calix rubbed his other hand down her back. “My field mender clinic is close to where the fighting is. I probably won’t even get leave for nine months or even a year. And who knows when I’ll be able to come home for good? That’s no way to prepare for a marriage.”

“It doesn’t matter,” her eyes burned with unshed tears. “Distance won’t change how we feel. I’m Promised to you. I
am
.”

He let out a mournful sigh. “I don’t want you to feel trapped.”

“Our love isn’t a trap.” It was the only thing, besides flying, that actually made her feel
free
. She leaned her head against his chest. “I have loved you every day that I can remember, and I will love you all the days I have left in this life. We should Promise right now. Tonight.” She raised her head to meet his eyes, so he could see the truth.
Her
truth. “I’ll be waiting for you either way.”

“I’m sorry, Aris. You know I can’t.” His voice was low and rough, like he was trying not to cry. “Not when I won’t be here. Not when we can’t be together. It wouldn’t be right.”

Holy, why did he always have to follow the rules? His sense of justice and fairness was something she loved about him, but right now she wanted him to be passionate, impulsive. She wanted
him
.

“It isn’t fair.” The words came out plaintive and needy. She hated them. She hated the burning hole in her chest that made her say them. But it was too late to take them back.

Calix’s arm tightened around her. “I wish we had more time. I don’t want to leave you.”

She leaned up to kiss his temple, sliding her fingers into his soft, shadowy hair. “Tell me you want to be with me,” she murmured.

He nodded and when he spoke, his breath was warm against her skin. “Yes, Aris. I want you.”

She turned and pressed closer, until she was sitting on his lap. Cradling his face in her hands, Aris kissed him with all the longing and fear she felt. She unzipped his jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. Underneath he wore a slippery shirt that fit him like a second skin. It was made of a slick, new-tech fabric impervious to the elements. She yanked on it, but she couldn’t rip it if she tried. He raised his arms and let her pull it over his head. She wanted to throw the shirt in the ocean, bury it in the sand so he couldn’t find it, so he couldn’t leave. As if a missing shirt could keep him.

His hands slipped under her tunic, his fingers warm and gentle on her bare skin. She pressed closer, willing him to hold her tighter. He was always like that: careful, as if worried she could be easily hurt.

“I’m not a doll,” she whispered against his neck, trailing kisses along his collarbone. “You can’t break me.”

His arms tightened until she nearly lost her breath. She tipped her head to kiss him. His tongue snuck between her lips as he ran his hands down her sides, brushing the curves of her breasts, and she arched against him. Desire rolled in slow, heavy waves from her cheeks down low into her belly.

For a while, Aris didn’t think. She lived in the heated space between their bodies, in the slick warmth of Calix’s mouth. Every thought, fear, memory faded, and the world was reduced to the wildness of the ocean throwing itself to shore, the fathomless swish of rain against sand. To the hardness of the rocks that enclosed them, the hardness of his body beneath her.

The ripples of desire flashed hot beneath her skin. She didn’t want to wait. Not for a Promise. Not for him to come home.

Tonight
.
Now
. What if they never got another chance? She moved to unfasten his belt.

As soon as he realized what she was doing, he grabbed her hands and stopped her. For a long moment they sat without speaking, their quick breathing a counterpoint to the distant crash of waves. Eventually she slid off his lap and curled up against his side.

“You said you wanted me.” She felt no bitterness or rancor as she said the words. Only sadness. Longing.

“I do,” Calix replied. “
So much
. You can’t even imagine.” She could feel the tremble in his hands on her back. “But . . .”

“But it would be wrong.” She sighed.

He ducked his head, staring at their legs, pressed close together. Almost as if convincing himself, he repeated, “But it would be wrong.”

“No one would know.” The way she felt when he kissed her—like she soared, her body full of air and sunlight.

He didn’t answer right away, as if considering, then he regretfully shook his head. “
We
would know.”

Maybe that should have mattered to her.

For a long time they sat in silence, pressed close, listening to the lapping waves.

When the gray light of dawn eased up from the horizon, Aris laid a hand on his chest, over his heart. “I love you, Calix. We’ll make this work, no matter what happens. You know that, right?”

“I know, Aris.” He kissed the top of her head. They both stared out of the cave entrance at the endless, weeping rain. “I know.”

As soon as
Aris slipped through the doorway of The Toad, Echo pounced on her.

“Aris!” The petite girl threw her arms around Aris, enveloping them both in her hair. The crystals on her slinky silver dress pricked Aris’s bare arms. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

Aris tried to catch her breath. “I hadn’t planned to. I just . . .”
I just was tired of replaying Calix’s last kiss in my mind. His last “I love you” as he said goodbye. I was tired of sitting alone in my room crying.
“You know. I thought it’d be good to get out.”

“We’ve all been so worried about you.” Echo pulled back, studying her in the dim light. “Was this morning totally wretched? How are you doing? You look
terrible
.”

A rueful smile lifted the edges of Aris’s mouth. “Thanks so much.”

Echo rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. But seriously, are you okay?”

Aris’s smile faded. “Watching Calix get on that transjet was the worst moment of my life. So yeah, wretched about covers it.”

“Well, don’t worry, doll. You’ll be your old self in no time. Have you seen the men here tonight? Watch out, Calix!” Echo winked, but her face fell into a pout when Aris didn’t smile. “I was only trying to cheer you up. Don’t look at me like that.”

Aris sighed.

Echo pointed to the far side of the dark, cave-like room. “Rakk and Phae are over there. I was just getting us some drinks. What do you want?”

“Just a pineapple fross, please. Do you need help?”

“Nah. Go sit down.” With another stifling hug, Echo was gone, her dress sparkling in the dim light. Heads turned to watch her from all around the bar. Aris sighed in envy, not at the looks Echo got, but at the way she moved: smooth and liquid as the lines of paint in the art she hoped to sell in galleries all over Atalanta. Being around Echo made Aris feel even more clumsy and awkward than usual. Her only consolation: Echo was a terrible flyer. Aris could pilot a wingjet just as gracefully as Echo could move. Maybe even better than she could paint.

Aris made her way to a table wedged in a dark, smoky back corner, where Phae and Rakk were sitting with their heads together. When they saw her, they waved.

A faint curl of bakka smoke drifted between them, filling her nose with its nutty, spicy scent. It reminded her of the last time she’d been at The Toad, with Calix. She blinked, eyes stinging.

“On your own now, aren’t you,” Phae said, standing up to give Aris a hug. Her dark skin glowed velvety and smooth against her red dress.

Aris slid onto an empty stool, grateful for the sympathy in Phae’s eyes. “I can’t believe he’s really gone.”

Phae patted her hand. The motion set her thick wooden bracelets rattling against her wrist, revealing glimpses of her Commerce brand. Aris glanced at the vines twining up her own arm. The Environment sector’s ivy was the largest of the five sector brands. But it was also the nicest, according to her friends. Phae often wore bangles to hide the small blue barcode on her wrist.

“I’m sure you’ll hear from Calix soon,” Phae said. “Rakk had time to comm up almost as soon as he arrived at training.”

Rakk nodded. “It won’t be long. Don’t worry.”

Aris tried to meet his gaze, but her eyes kept drifting to the red, ridged scar that covered the side of his head and neck. Much of his ear and the hair around the scar was gone. He was still handsome—rich brown eyes, full lips, thick dark hair—but the gruesome scar overshadowed his features.

The thought that Calix could be in danger, could suffer like Rakk had, made Aris’s stomach clench and her heart race.

“Maybe the war will end soon,” Phae added, trying to sound reassuring. “You never know. Calix might not be gone that long.”

Just then, Echo appeared with four frosted, wide-mouthed glasses. She tossed her gravity-defying hair as she placed them on the table. “Am I the only one who thinks she needs to
forget
about Calix?” Echo’s words fell into the loud bar like an anvil.

Aris reeled back. “What did you just say?”

“Echo!” Phae said disapprovingly.

“What?” Shooting a quelling look at Phae, she reached for Aris’s hand. “Doll, I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to hear this, but I just have to say it. Calix didn’t Promise to you. He didn’t give you
anything
. He’s gone, and who knows when he’ll be back? I’m worried you’re going to put your whole life on hold for him.”

Aris yanked her hand free, pressing it against the knotted, variegated wood of the table. “Calix believes in following the rules, and that means Promising when we can actually be together. We decided to wait because it was the right thing to do, not because he didn’t ask!” Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true. But it might as well have been.

Rakk stood and slipped around Phae, his hands on her shoulders. “I think I’ll have a smoke. Pardon me.” He made his way to the bakka bar without another word.

Phae turned her reproachful frown on Aris. “Why’d you have to say that?”

“I’m sorry!” Aris raised her hands. “I wasn’t commenting on
your
Promise, I was just—”

“Let it be, Phae. I’m sure he just wanted a smoke. You’re too sensitive.” Echo leaned against the table, cutting her eyes to a group of men a few tables over who were openly staring at her.

“Now
I’m
too sensitive?” Phae asked. “This isn’t about me! You were the one who said Aris should just
forget
Calix, like that would ever happen! She follows him around like a blighting puppy, and you think—”

“That’s enough.” Aris got to her feet, ignoring the weakness in her legs. “You think whatever you like about us. It has been a very,
very
long day, and I don’t have the energy to argue.”

Phae held up a hand. “I’m sorry, wait—”

Aris turned away. The air was suddenly thick, the bakka smoke choking. She pushed toward the door, knocking into tables and shadowy figures indiscriminately, desperate for fresh air and the sky’s embrace.

Travelers often suffered vertigo when visiting Lux; the milky walkways that connected the buildings, built high on carbonate stilts, were translucent, and the impenetrable chest-high walls transparent. Aris had lived in Lux all her life. Tonight she was dizzy, but not because she could see shadowy trees below her feet.

Rakk emerged from the darkness of the bar. “Aris,” he said. “Wait for a second.”

“Tell Phae I’m sorry.” She glanced toward her wingjet on the landing pad. “I just can’t handle it right now, okay?”

“It’s not that. I know you don’t feel like talking. I get it.” He scuffed a boot on the glowing pathway. “It’s just . . . for what it’s worth, I respect what you and Calix are doing. Waiting, I mean.”

Aris raised a brow in surprise. “But you didn’t wait.”

“Yeah, I know.” He lifted a hand as if to run it through his hair, but when his fingers touched the scarred skin at his temple, he dropped his arm to his side. “The thing is . . . I wish we had.”

Aris’s mind balked. “But—”

“Look at me.” Rakk gestured to his face, grimacing. “This is not what Phae signed up for.”

“Phae
loves
you,” Aris replied forcefully.

He sighed. “I know she does. And I love her. That’s why I didn’t break the Promise.” He leaned against the translucent wall. “But I would have done things differently if I’d known. You and Calix are smart to wait. Anything could happen. Sometimes I think about . . . if my sectormate hadn’t shoved me out of the way just before the firebomb blew, Phae’d be mourning me right now instead of planning our wedding.”

Aris’s stomach dropped. He’d never spoken about what happened. “Did your sectormate—”

“He lost his leg.” Rakk looked down. “He just about died trying to protect me.”

You could save lives. Maybe even Calix’s.
Theo’s words echoed in Aris’s mind.

“Thanks, Rakk.” Aris gave him a hug.

“Good luck.” He released her and made his way back inside.

Aris scrambled into her wingjet and let the familiar start-up sequence calm her shaking hands. She drew the jet into a hover, then shot straight into the air, moisture streaking the glass dome as she moved through a patch of cloud. Tears burned her cheeks.

She couldn’t stay here, knowing Calix was out there risking his life. Not when she had a chance to help. She thought about what she would say to her parents, her friends . . . when she would leave. Smiling grimly through her tears, she planned her escape.