Read Shadows of Glass Online

Authors: Kassy Tayler

Shadows of Glass

 

 

 

The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you for your personal use only.
You may not make this e-book publicly available in any way.
Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believe the copy of this e-book
you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify the publisher at:
us.macmillanusa.com/piracy
.

For Hayes Hudnall Holby

Let’s make every day an adventure.

In memory of Levi and Addison Masencup

Acknowledgments

Thank you to my husband, Rob, for his neverending patience with my special kind of
crazy. My mom for all her support. My wonderful agent, Roberta Brown, who is always
there no matter what. A special thank-you to my awesome editor, Holly Blanck, for
making me kick this story up a notch, and to Aleks Mencel and the rest of the gang
at SMP for making sure my books are getting noticed. Thank you to the Saturday morning
breakfast gang at King Kitchen. And as always, thank you to my wonderful and supportive
friends, the werearmadillos. This business has its ups and downs, and I’m happy to
share the ride with all of you.

Contents

Title Page

Copyright Notice

Dedication

Acknowledgments

 

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

 

Also by Kassy Tayler

About the Author

Copyright

1

There are moments
in history when drastic change comes about. Whether it is for the better or for the
worse can only be told after time has passed and stories are written by those who
witnessed it. The question that often puzzles me is how do you pinpoint the exact
moment, the precise word, or the final action that changes everything for everyone?
My own history has to have such a moment, yet I have no idea of how it occurred. When
did our forefathers decide that it was necessary to save our race by going inside
a dome? Was it the moment they saw the comet in the sky, or was it later, when they
realized the deadly implications of its existence? Was one voice responsible for the
decision, or were many involved? These things are not taught to us, only that the
decision was made.

Was it only a few days ago that our history was taught in two stages? The time before
the dome was spoken of in reverent tones, while the time since was nothing more than
a cautionary tale to keep the unprivileged in their proper place. There was no alternative
to our lives but death. For some of us, that was not enough. We had questions, and
we would not stop until we had the answers. As I step out of the slash in the earth
that was our home, I realize that our future has changed. There is no going back from
this point. I, like my friend Alex, have seen the sky, and only death will keep me
from seeing it again.

I can only hope, when future generations look back on this day when we spilled forth
from the earth and found that the world was not engulfed in flames as we had been
taught, that I will be remembered kindly. That, like the scientists who built our
dome, I only did what I thought I had to do to stay alive. Still I cannot help but
wonder, as I think about all those who lost their lives, how many deaths will I be
held accountable for? Or will the historians even remember my name?

The sky is blue …
Alex’s last words run through my mind as I stand next to Pace and we stare in wonder
at everything that lies before us.

The words that could be written about this moment are meaningless in comparison to
what we see. Pace takes my hand beneath the vast expanse of sky, and I realize that
Alex’s last words did not do the sky justice, because there is so much more to it
than the color blue. There are colors I have never seen that are brighter than I can
comprehend. The distant horizon is full of them, one fading into the next and the
next and the next until I don’t know where to look. I don’t even know what to call
them as they are beyond my understanding. They are more than the reds, purples, and
oranges that I have seen before. Those colors were faded and old, covered with ash
and soot. The colors that I now behold hurt my eyes as I stare in awe. My mind insists
that they could not possibly be real and I have to convince myself that
this
moment
is
real. I tell myself over and over again that I am awake and not trapped in a dream.

Cat calls out to us and I turn to the sound. He stands on a large flat rock that starts
in the sand, close to the cave entrance, and goes on to jut into the sea. Cat is not
happy, and his complaints let me know that I am, indeed, awake. A wave crashes against
the rock and showers over him. He lays his ears back in distaste and cries out again,
urging us to come back to the safety of the cave.

Pace and I had run ahead of the others who escaped from the flood that destroyed our
village beneath the dome. How long will it be before the rest of us find their way
out? I take a moment to search the sky for the canary, Pip, who we were chasing when
we realized that the underground river would lead us to the outside. I slowly turn
and look at the large wall of rock that rises behind me. Somewhere above is what is
left of the dome. I shield my eyes with my hands as I search for a spot of yellow.
Will we ever see Pip again? Even though I know Pace would miss him, I honestly cannot
blame the tiny bird if he chooses to fly away from this place that was our prison.
I certainly would fly if I had wings.

I turn back to look once more at the sky and find Pace watching me. His love, so recently
declared, shines in his beautiful blue eyes and he lowers his head to gently kiss
me. I know from the touch of his lips that he wants me to know how important this
moment is to him, no, to the two of us together. My breath catches in my throat at
his kiss and I hold it and onto him, until he finally pulls away. When he does, I
have to force the breath out and my chest hurts with the effort. I ignore the pain
because I see the most glorious thing as I turn to the west. A golden orb hangs right
over the water, like a hand dipped into a bowl, part of it beneath the surface and
part of it above. It is so very bright and my eyes water with pain, but I can not
tear them away from the sight. I blink and blink again because I don’t want to miss
anything even though my throat feels as if there is a tight band around it.

The orb looks as if it will slide right into the sea. The realization that it is the
sun and I am looking at the edge of the world fills me with so much wonder that I
tremble. The sea is vaster than anything I have ever imagined, but the sky, the sky
is limitless and beyond my comprehension. There
is
a world outside the dome. It is not flame or fire as we were always told. Instead
there is this inconceivable openness that never ends, which makes it close to impossible
for my mind to comprehend it. I keep a tight hold of Pace’s hand because I am frightened
that without him I will fly off into the oblivion that stretches before us. It is
hard to understand that everything we’ve been told our entire lives is a lie. My mind
is at war with itself so I try to take a deep breath just to collect myself, but instead
all I can do is gasp.

My chest burns and my lungs convulse. I cannot breathe. I am suffocating and I drop
to my knees on the sand. My hands clutch at my throat as if someone has wrapped a
band around it. Nothing is there, yet the constriction is real. There is nothing I
can do to stop it. I don’t want to die. Not now, not when I am so close. Not when
my dreams have finally come true. Not when I finally have everything I ever wanted.

“Wren!” I hear Pace shouting my name as if he is far, far away. I want to answer him
but I cannot speak. I open my mouth and nothing comes out. I claw at my throat as
if I can free it from the vise that holds it shut. I pitch forward with the effort
to draw a breath. Salty water splashes into my face and my eyes burn and tear. All
I can do is blink. Pace catches me and turns me over so I am halfway in his lap. I
see him above me, as if he’s at the opposite end of a tunnel and his face is full
of fear. I grab his arm as my lungs labor for air. A horrible spasm wracks my throat
and I feel my eyes bulging. I know I am dying and there is nothing I can say, yet
there is so much I want to tell him.

Is this how Alex felt? This desperation to make sure that nothing was left unsaid?
He had to welcome death over the unbelievable pain he felt. I was not burned by flame,
but my lungs feel as if they’ve dissolved into ashes inside my chest.

Suddenly Pace flips me over. He bends me over his arm and strikes my back. My insides
feel as if they are coming up my throat, and I gag. Thankfully I am able to draw a
breath, but as soon as I do I begin to cough. I cough and cough and something black
comes out. I feel as if someone has stuffed thick fabric down my throat. I keep gagging
and coughing and it keeps coming up, black and horrible and thick. It has been inside
me, all this time, killing my lungs, and killing the rest of my body slowly. I want
it out. I want all of it out. I want my insides to be free of the coal the same way
my body is free of the dome.

I don’t know how Pace can stand it. I look at the mess in the sand that has come out
of my lungs and it makes me sicker, if that is possible. My stomach joins in the upheaval.
I feel as if my insides are coming out, one small piece at a time. I am exhausted.
I have nothing left to give, yet it keeps coming. Pace rubs my back and scoops handfuls
of seawater and dribbles them on my neck until I slump over his legs, exhausted. I
hear voices behind me; the others have found their way out. I should tell them to
go back, to ease their way into the air that is so fresh and clean that I feel as
if it will kill me. But I can’t say a word because my world has once more turned to
shadows and I feel myself slowly sliding away into the darkness.

*   *   *

There are times in our lives when we dream so vividly that it is impossible to tell
what reality is and what our minds trick us into believing is real. We stay in the
dream, mostly because it is so much better than the monotony of our everyday life
until something jolts us to awareness and we wake up, not certain of where we are
or where we belong. When it happens to me I close my eyes tight and try to recapture
that part of the dream that led me away into a different world, as if I could will
myself into that place once more.

I find myself trapped in that half-dream state. My mind cannot settle on what is real.
The sounds around me are different than what I am used to. My bed feels strange and
my body aches all the way into my bones. My throat feels raw and I am so very thirsty.
I lick my lips and taste nothing but salt. Someone nudges me and I have to force my
eyes open.

It is Ghost, my favorite pony from the mines. He is curled up against me, and my head
is on his side. He nudges me once more with his nose as he does when he wants a treat,
and I place my hand on the side of his face to let him know I am awake. Cat lies beside
me and sits up as I move.

I blink and gasp at the beauty and wonder of what is above me. The sky is full of
points of light: some bright, and some so distant I can barely see them. They are
everywhere; no matter where I look I see them.

Other books

Wife 22 by Melanie Gideon
Forbidden Fire by Heather Graham
City of the Falling Sky by Joseph Evans
One-Hundred-Knuckled Fist by Dustin M. Hoffman
Sweet on You by Kate Perry


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024