UNBREATHABLE (32 page)

Dena gave him my blood. He can breathe the toxic air that isn’t toxic anymore.

“Now every time I want to kiss you, I can.”

He presses another kiss against my forehead and grins. It fades quickly. “Julian told me what you were going to do.”

“But I didn't,” I say softly. “I lived, just like I said I would.”

He laughs softly. “He says you did more than that. I've heard a lot of things. And seen some too.”

“Seen?” I ask.

“I saw the ship when Rowan showed it to you.” He looks away. 

I blink as his words slowly click.

My throat constricts. He was there. The night I kissed Rowan. He would have seen me move first, because Rowan is a smart idiot. I replay the night over and over in my mind.

His hands tighten on my stiff shoulders. I lift my eyes to his when he speaks. “I don't know what happened that night, but—”

“It was an act,” I say, cutting him off. I don't want to hear his words. Shame heats my cheeks.

He exhales and forces a tired smile. “I know.”

But that's the thing. He doesn't. He will never know. Because 
I
 don't even know.

He fingers the crown on my head, swiftly changing the subject. “Queen Lissa.”

“Queen Rhea is dead,” I say. He closes his eyes for a long moment and offers me a wry smile.

“Everything is for the best,” he says. But his voice cracks and I realize: he loved her. The small part of her that was human. The same part I saw before she breathed her last. I open my mouth to tell him, to let him know she spoke of him, even before her death.

But I don't. My lips press closed.

In his heart, he will always have a piece of her that no one else saw. And now, I will too. I lock away my mother's last moments and keep silent.

I am selfish like that.

“Rowan will be here any moment now,” Slate says when we’ve joined the mix of humans and Jute. Reed assembles a group of soldiers at the front of the crowd. They crouch down, arrows nocked and ready.

Slate pulls his mask from his pocket and presses it against his face. “It’s the only element of surprise we have on our side.”

“I never thought”—he gestures to the Jute, his voice choked—“I never thought we could be together.”

“Neither did I,” I say.

“But we have you to thank for that. This should have been done years ago.” He looks at me and smiles, squeezing my arm. Sweat and fear make the air difficult to breathe. I slip through the panicked crowd, making my way to the front center. My crown makes me stand out, and people move to let me pass. Something rushes through my veins, despite the knowledge of the bloodshed that lies ahead. Something like hope, only stronger.

Someone grabs my hand and I turn.

“Will you look at that. Queen Lissa, huh?” Dena grins and digs into her pocket, pulling out the little replica of Earth. “You left it in the palace. Oh, I got your blood in everyone, as promised.”

“Thank you,” I say, slipping it into my boot. She shrugs. “And I almost forgot.”

I pull out the gun I stole what seems like years ago and hold it out to her, taking in the look of surprise on her face.

“Looks like you didn’t need to babysit her after all,” Slate jokes. Dena barks a laugh before flipping off the safety on the gun. She aims it somewhere in the distance and fires. A black clothed figure falls.

“You did the right thing, Lissa,” she says, glancing at the Jute protecting us. My eyes are wide, but she doesn’t even seem fazed by the life she just took. “We were meant to be together, not separated.”

More people fall as we hurry forward. Some young, some old. We don't stop for them. Though with every death, a piece of me withers and falls with their unbreathing bodies. Far in the distance, dark plumes of smoke rise from the remains of the palace.

An arrow whizzes past my right, the tip coated in buzzing blue. It sinks into the ground, sparks dying soon after. Up ahead, Reed’s men wait for us to catch up.

I push closer to the front to catch a glimpse at them. Each of the ten has an arrow drawn on a slender bow. The tips are solid black.

“Things are going to get ugly,” Dena says, half to herself. I open my mouth to ask her what she means. To ask her if she has seen Julian.

But Reed’s men release the arrows.

And Jutaire explodes.

I can't breathe.

Dust chokes my lungs and stings my eyes. The explosion threw me on my back. I can’t see the sky. I see red. Above me, around me. Red is everywhere.

Cries. Screams. Wails. Moans. Agony pierces the world.

I clutch my chest with trembling hands, gasp for air and wonder. Is Earth worth so much pain and suffering? Is anything worth so much death?

I close my fists and blink desperately to clear my vision. Dust coats my sweaty palms. But I still see nothing. My ears still pulse with the echo of the explosion. I don’t know if it was caused by man or Jute, but it was a bomb, something I never knew existed on Jutaire.

I feel pain in every inch of my body. Because the explosion grew fingers and threw me down like a doll I've seen some young girls carry.

Dena. Slate. Eli. Reed. Julian. I need to know if they are safe. I need to know if they are alive. I open my mouth, but it’s dry I can't form a word. I can't see. I can't speak. I can't move.

My eyes drift closed. It’s easier this way, I guess. Easier to drift away than to fight. I’ve done what I could. Earth really
is
impossible.

Someone calls my name.

Lissa
.

I turn my head towards the sound of the voice.

Through the haze, far beyond, I see his tall figure. I see the silhouette of his long coat billowing in the wind.

Rowan.

“Lissa!” Another voice cries to my right.

Julian. Alive. Alive.

His voice sets me in motion. I jump to my feet. Each step takes me further from Rowan and closer to Julian.

I collide with a body and the instant I hit the ground, Julian coughs. He pulls me back on my feet and his concerned eyes search my face. A sound between relief and happiness escapes his lips and he pulls me to his chest. “You're okay.”

I nod against him, my throat still dry.

“I thought I lost you,” he says softly. And right now, in the midst of the impenetrable dust surrounding, there is no one but us. He pulls away.

He slides his hand down the side of my face and tucks my messy hair behind my ear. A smile flits across his face, so soon, I'm not even sure it is real.

“We have to go.” His hand closes around mine. He leads me slowly through the haze. I can’t see anything but him and this whirlwind of bloody red.

I stop when my leg kicks something with a soft squelch. And when I look down, my insides tumble.

A body. Mutilated. Blood and skin and organs and—

“Don't look, Lissa.” Julian tugs on my hand, forcing me to run with him. Something numbs inside me, and I can’t force the image of that body from my mind. Dust is sandy on my skin, layered on my hair, gritty in my mouth.

“We lost so many,” Julian says over the howl of the wind. I can't see more than ten feet ahead of me. His grip tightens around my hand. “I thought–I thought I lost you too. I tried to come back for you when you left for the palace, but my dad didn’t let me.”

He stops and looks at me. “Don’t leave me again.”

“Never,” I say softly. But my voice is too soft. The wind picks up my words and swallows them whole.

But this is Julian. He hears me no matter what. His eyes soften. “Everyone's waiting for you. The ship—”he shakes his head—“it looks like it’s rising from a grave.”

Already.

When the dust clears somewhat, I see the curving, sleek metal of the ship. So much metal I never knew existed. Such beauty, magnificence and strength. The star shines in its center, iridescent white, reminding me of my mother. “It's beautiful.”

Julian glances at me. “It is.”

“You could draw it,” I say. He murmurs a yes and looks away, but not before I see his Adam’s apple bob and the pain flash in his eyes.

The last of the haze clears and Jutaire is once again a plain of red, meeting the fading blue sky where the sun is beginning to set. Far to my right, Jute territory spreads like a sprawling mass of white.

I am suddenly filled with an overwhelming giddiness. My head spins and laughter bubbles to my lips. But there is a little part of me that whispers: happiness comes with a price.

I ignore the voice in my mind.
Paranoia
, Gage had said. That is what the voice is named. Paranoia will get a person nowhere.

I catch sight of Dena and Ilen among the crowd, and then Slate too. But everyone is keeping their distance from the ship, as if they are afraid to get too close. Too much distance, I realize with a sliver of panic.

I ignore it.

“Lissa!” Slate shouts. He runs over, Eli following close behind. “You scared me.”

“Better late than never, eh, Lissa?” Eli asks when they reach me, but I see the relief on his face too.

“Where’s Mia?” I ask him.

“She’s with the rest of the wounded. She hasn’t gotten any better,” he says gravely. He rests a hand on Slate’s shoulder. “We need to go.”

“It's almost time,” Julian says when they disappear into a throng of frantic people.

With every good comes a bad. With every happiness comes a sorrow.

And I want to tell him: no, it isn’t almost time. 

A metallic clang reverberates in the radius surrounding the ship. At once, silence falls.

The ship has risen completely, and it's almost impossible to look at. Despite the setting sun, it shines fervently in the waning rays.

The metal doors in the ground grate back to life, rumbling and groaning as they race towards one another to seal the gaping hole again. At the same time, a slab of the ship clicks open and slowly begins a descent to the ground. With a puff of air, it settles at an angle, revealing a dark hole—the door.

But something is wrong.

The silence should be filled with the sound of the rumbling metal gates. But they’re frozen, their journey to one another halted partway.

I am not the only one who has noticed. Necks crane forward and silent questions quickly raise the tension. I take one step forward in curiosity.

And freeze as Rowan's men climb from the hole.

And chaos breaks loose.

When the first scream shatters the air, I pull two small knives from the sheaths around my arms, blood roaring in my ears. Julian leaves, determination wrought on his face.

Rowan’s men are dressed in full black, a yellow band tied around their upper right arms, setting them apart from the rest of the Jute.

My Jute.

Everyone is scattered, caught off guard. Rowan’s men waste no time running through the unprepared crowd, slaying without hesitance. I fling one knife at the throat of a burly Jute rushing towards a woman with a child clinging to her slender neck. He falls instantly, a gurgling sound escaping his colorless lips. She turns to me with wild eyes before running blindly and I watch as another Jute slashes a knife across her chest, killing her and the child. All in the blink of an eye. My breath chokes.

I pull the knife out of the fallen Jute's neck and move on. In the fray, I catch glimpses of single battles. A middle-aged man defending his family with a metal rod studded with nails. A young woman ducking under the blows of one of Rowan's men. A Jute girl defending a human girl.

Around me, human and Jute fall. Rowan's men too. But more humans. More Jute who call me queen.

Air compresses behind me. Before I can turn, an arm hooks around my neck and I struggle against the sheer force. I bite down on his fleshy arm, gagging at the sweat and dirt on my tongue. He yelps and I pull away, turning to face him. I drop my knives and unsheathe the long dagger at my waist as he twirls a staff.

I spit. But the salt of his sweat still lingers on my tongue.

He swings the long staff toward my side. I lean back as it swooshes past and raise my leg, kicking it away.

My breath catches when I meet his eyes. How can such a brute possess features so striking? So mesmerizing?

My vision flashes and pain explodes through my side.

He brings the staff down again, aiming for my head. I grab the blade end of my dagger in my other hand and grit my teeth when the staff slams against the metal.

I drop to my knees and roll away. He falls but catches himself and flips to face me. But I am slimmer. Faster.

And his face opens into one of sheer surprise as my knife sinks into his chest.

I jump to my feet as another shadow falls over me. This one has no chance. I run my dagger through his side and keep running. Through another. And another.

Sharp pain slices across my arm. I cry out, tightening my grip around my dagger as another Jute attacks me, a knife in either hand. I swerve from his attacks and swing my leg. One of his knives drop to the ground, already lost in the swirling dust.

He lunges first, knife aimed for my right. I clench my teeth at the pain in my arm and slide away at the last instant. His fingers wrap around my ankle and he pulls me down with him.