Golden Page 5

  In the distance, they heard a soldier shouting into a radio, calling for reinforcements. A drone hovered above them, a second approached. There would be more on the way.

  Nat looked up, brought her hands together, and clapped once more. The drones smashed into each other, as surely as if she’d flown one into the next. Burning debris fell from the sky, plummeting into the city around them.

  But when the smoke cleared there were only that many more drones—and they were coming right at them. In the distance, the soldiers had regrouped; they’d be on them in a heartbeat.

  Nat would never have the strength to defeat them all. Not after the combat she’d already seen today. Wes looked around, desperate for a new plan.

  An escape route. A safe place to hide out, even. But with every moment, more soldiers returned, and he knew that their chances of survival were only shrinking.

  Let me in, the voice said again. I’m all you have.

  He ignored it. Ignored her.

  “Let’s go,” Wes said, backing toward Nat. They needed to run, to get away before the soldiers spotted them.

  “Where?” Nat asked. Blinking against the smoke and looking through the burned-out streets, she saw soldiers and tanks everywhere. No sign of their crew or where they had gone.

  “Good question.” Where could they run? It was all he could do to stay alive between the flying rocks and bullets and glass.

  “Over here!” Wes heard a shout, and saw Shakes pick off a soldier who had his gun trained on Nat. Then a second soldier fell, and a third.

  “I got your back,” shouted Roark, heaving a glass window into the knees of a fourth. The brave members of their crew had returned to join the fray.

  Shakes kept firing, while Roark and Brendon smashed debris into the soldiers’ legs, tripping them up. Liannan made the wind howl and screech, sending great bolts of lightning into the crowd, flinging blinding waves of dirt into the eyes of Nat and Wes’s attackers.

  Nat redoubled her offensive, sending guns and soldiers flying away, though with less and less effect. She looked so tired now that she could barely stand.

  Wes picked up his weapon and fired until the piece clicked helplessly in his hand. He was out of ammo.

  The enemy pressed forward.

  As it did, Wes felt the voice in his head again. Let me in, you foolish boy. The lady was insistent now. You are wasting time.

  “Nat,” Wes shouted. “Run! Get them out of here, I’ll hold them off—”

  “No! We’re not leaving you!”

  “Nat, please—”

  Just then, a soldier clocked Wes on the head with a two-by-four, and smacked him to the ground while he tried to reload his gun.

  Nat faltered, her foot caught on a broken steel beam. She fell to the pavement, her leg wrenched.

  That was it, the moment the crowd had been waiting for—and Wes saw right then that he was never the target, that it had always been her.

  “NAT!” Wes yelled, as the soldiers leapt upon her, one after another, burying her beneath them, the snow falling on all of them. He threw himself at the pile, pushing through her assailants, but his back was throbbing from where the glass had pierced his skin, and his head felt as if someone were splitting it with an axe. His vision began to blur, and he was staggering.

  A stone struck him in the jaw, and he thought he felt the bone break. A second hit sent him reeling, falling to the ground. Someone kicked him in the gut, and he spit blood, while another foot, another fist, and another piece of glass shattered upon him.

  We’re both going to die, Wes thought. Right here, today. At least we’re going to die together. He managed to open his eyes wide enough to see the fate of his crew. It was no better.

  Shakes struggled to fight off three soldiers. Liannan was in shackles, a gun held to her brow. Roark lay facedown in the dirt, unconscious. Brendon fell to his knees, a pistol shoved up his mouth.

  Worst of all, Nat was hidden beneath a herd of soldiers, each of them taking turns kicking her and knocking her on the head with their rifles.

  The lady had no more patience, not for him. Let me in, foolish boy! NOW!

  Fine! Wes screamed to the voice in his head. Whatever you want, whatever you think you can do to help, you need to do it now!

  Open! the lady said.

  Wes stopped fighting her and felt her rummaging around his mind. Too late to close it now.

  I’m coming, said the voice. Hold on.

  Wes looked over to see the soldiers had taken Nat prisoner, and now they turned their guns on Wes and his crew.

  “Throw it down,” said an officer, pointing to the gun.

  Wes tossed it to the ground. It was empty anyway. Shakes did the same. They weren’t going to fight their way out of this one, not this time.

  There were just too many of the enemy to fight, and all of them were armed, ready to shoot, trigger-happy.

  It was really over.

  “Against the wall,” said the officer, gesturing with the butt of his rifle. “All of you, line up!”

  Wes and his crew were herded against the alley wall with the rest of the marked prisoners. He knew what came next, and it wasn’t good. The soldiers made them all stand in line, preparing a firing squad.

  Summary execution, thought Wes. It would all be over in a minute.

  Hold on, said the voice in his head. But Wes was done holding on; there was no more time for that. He could hardly open his eyes—a bruise had forced one shut, the other was bloodshot. Nat looked over at him, shaking her head. She couldn’t speak; she could barely stand. She was spent, nothing more to give. They were done.

  He reached out for her hand and she took it. With her other hand, she took Liannan’s. Liannan took Shakes’s, who took Roark’s, who held Brendon’s.

  Wes leaned forward. “See you in the next life, my friends.”

  “Been an honor,” said Roark.

  “Been something, all right.” Shakes smiled.

  “Rather leave with friends than live with snakes,” Brendon agreed.

  “Besides,” said Liannan, “Farouk is waiting.”

  “Agreed,” Nat whispered. Wes squeezed her hand tighter. They would die together. All of them.

  “FIRE!” Gunshots exploded in the smoky air, echoing like thunder through the cavernous streets of New Kandy.

  This is it— Wes braced himself, but the bullets shattered in midair.

  He waited for death but it did not come. He expected a hail of bullets, readied himself for the pain, but there was nothing, and he remained intact, whole.

  The gun smoke that remained was thick and gray, and it stung his eyes, clouding up in a great wave in front of him.

  Even through the smoke, he could see that the soldiers were gone.

  In their place was a circle of sunlight, so bright it washed out the streets of the White Temple around it.

  I’m here, said the voice.

  All around him, the dark alley filled with an incandescent light. Some kind of tear in the fabric of reality, Wes thought. It’s a miracle. Or the end of the world. Or . . .

  It’s her.

  “A portal!” cried Nat, who recognized the pattern, as snow-filled air began to swirl around them, creating a funnel, the wind kicking up debris until the space resolved into a shimmering window to another place and time.

  Not just any place and time.

  Vallonis.

  Wes thought he heard birdsong, a river rushing in the distance. It was strange to see such beauty in the heart of so much destruction. There are other worlds than these, he’d read once in a book a long time ago. Hadn’t he?

  It was hard to remember now, what was real and what was not. What was a memory, and what was a dream.

  The lady in white appeared at the mouth of the portal.

  Did I dream her? She wore a shad
e of white so pure that it sparkled like a star, so pristine that it had no color at all; it was translucent, like crystal draped over her slender frame.

  Nat, standing by his side, gasped.

  The lady’s face was ageless and unlined, and Wes remembered her as if it had been only yesterday that Eliza had been stolen away.

  Then the woman smiled at him, and when she spoke, just as he expected, her voice and the voice in his head were one and the same.

  “I am Nineveh, Queen of Vallonis. Come.”

  7

  SO THIS WAS NINEVEH.

  Nat had never met the ruler of Vallonis, not in all the months she lived in the Blue. Faix had been bringing her to Apis, to meet the Queen, when Nat abandoned her training to try to save her friends. She was awestruck and overwhelmed and, for a moment, relieved. Someone was here to help, someone was here to save them. The Queen had arrived, and they would be safe. Nat never realized how much she needed that until now. She never thought of herself as anyone who needed rescue, but the Queen’s presence stilled her fear. Nineveh was not just the Queen of Vallonis; to Nat, she was the living embodiment of it—pure, sacred, incorruptible magic.

  She breathed deeply. They were not alone in the their fight. Help had come. She looked to Wes, expecting to see relief, but his face was pale, his eyes uncertain.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Wes was moving along the wall, one step, then another, retreating into the smoky haze, away from the lady in white. He shared none of Nat’s relief, not a bit of her excitement.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, raising her voice a little. They should be greeting the Queen, exchanging pleasantries and titles, or whatever you did when you met your sovereign. Nat didn’t know. But Wes looked like he wanted to run. And Nat wasn’t sure what she felt. Something was definitely wrong. Nineveh stood twenty or thirty feet away. She was coming closer and Wes was backing away from her.

  “Nat,” he whispered, urging her to join him.

  She went to his side, a bit reluctantly. The smoke enveloped them, making it seem as if the two of them were alone.

  “I don’t know about this,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, startled that he did not feel the same as she did. Of course Wes would be wary, he was only being cautious, but she had to convince him otherwise. Nineveh was only here to help, Nat was sure of it. So what was wrong with Wes? She gestured to the battle that raged on every side of them, the sound of bombs echoing all over the city. “Look around you. This is our only way out.”

  “Yeah, but I’m telling you, I have a bad feeling about this,” Wes said. He chewed his lip, his eyes flickering back in the direction of the Queen of Vallonis. She approached, greeting the others in their crew. Liannan was kneeling already. “I mean, it’s hard to explain, but I know she used her connection to me to get here, and my gut says something’s up.”

  Nat silently absorbed this information. She had a feeling Wes wanted to say more, so she held her tongue and her arguments for now.

  Wes sighed and scratched the scar on his face. “The Queen—whoever she is—I’ve met her before . . . I’m pretty sure she was the one who stole Eliza. She took her, that night.”

  He was confirming what she already knew, that Eliza had been taken by the rulers of Vallonis. Nat recalled Eliza’s bitterness toward Faix in the White Temple, her disdain for him and the Queen. I called them Mother and Father, Eliza had said.

  “Nineveh took your sister because she thought your sister was the one who could help them break the spell and cast a new one,” said Nat. “And when Eliza realized she wasn’t the one, she turned against them.”

  “It still wasn’t right, what she did. She shouldn’t have taken Eliza away. My whole life, I was haunted by her voice, her face, what happened that night. And then, just now, when I was dead, or when I thought I was—when I was lying next to you on the deck of that ferry—I heard her voice in my head again. This time, she said that she’d made a mistake. I think I was the one she wanted all along.”

  “Because you are the true child of Vallonis,” Nat said. She had seen the strength of his power, how he had been able to defeat Eliza and her illusions. His ability to dispel magic was a powerful gift.

  “Whatever I am, I don’t know what she wants from me now. Why she’s here. And I’m not sure we should do what she wants us to.”

  His face was so anguished that Nat was torn. She didn’t want to doubt the Queen’s intentions, but she didn’t want to dismiss Wes’s wariness either.

  The Queen had her reasons for stealing Eliza Wesson—her actions had broken a family and jeopardized the fate of the entire world—but was that Nineveh’s fault? And what if Nineveh was only here to fix what was broken? Now that the Queen knew Wes was the child she had sought all along, didn’t it follow that she would act on it?

  Nat had to make Wes understand. Nineveh was on their side, she wanted what they wanted—to make things right.

  The crew jostled them. “Come on, man, there’s no way out of here but through there,” said Shakes, pointing to the portal. “What are we waiting for? We need to get these people and our butts out of here.”

  The Queen waited at the portal, gesturing for all of them to approach.

  Liannan was already at the entrance, but she hesitated, looking back at Wes and Nat. She was the Queen’s subject, but she was also one of their team now. She put a hand on Shakes’s arm to tell him to wait. They would do what Wes told them to.

  “Something’s off,” Wes said abruptly. “I don’t think we should go. We’ll find another way.”

  The smallmen looked longingly at the open portal. All around them was smoke and death, but through the portal they could see blue skies and peaceful vistas. Roark could barely see through one swollen eye. Brendon had a massive bruise on his forehead. “Whatever you say, boss,” he said. Roark nodded.

  Nat admired their loyalty, but she had to make them see what was right in front of them. Hope. Refuge. Safety. “If we don’t go with her, where will we go?” she asked Wes.

  “We could try the mountains,” he said. “The original plan. Find another boat, get out of here, get back home.”

  Home? Oh, he meant New Vegas. But Vallonis was her home, and home was so very close right now.

  “If we go through the mountains, not all of us will survive,” she said, meaning the remaining prisoners. “We’re risking everyone’s lives.”

  Nobody argued with her, not even Wes, because she was right.

  Nat weighed the options in front of them, knowing a fresh band of attackers were sure to appear at any moment. New Kandy was burning; she could taste the grease and the gunpowder. Every part of her body ached. She trusted Wes, but he didn’t know the workings of the Blue.

  She placed a hand on his cheek, looked deep into his eyes. “Vallonis will protect us—and these prisoners.” She motioned to the ragged collection of survivors still following them. “She is their Queen. These are her people. She’s here for them.”

  Wes placed his hand on hers and squeezed. But then he pulled away, ran his fingers through his messy hair, and shook his head. “I just don’t trust her,” he said. “I can’t.”

  Nat turned to look back at Nineveh. The Queen of Vallonis, who stood in front of the only escape plan available to them, Nineveh, the lady in white, who had appeared at their darkest hour, a savior, a beacon, who offered refuge.

  To Wes, Nineveh was an enemy, a stranger. He was right to question her motives because of what happened in the past, but Nineveh was Faix’s Queen, and Faix had been her friend and mentor. The one who had taught her how to control her power, the one who had taught her the mysteries of magic. Nat would put her trust in Faix, and in her faith in Vallonis.

  So she turned once more to the boy she loved, the one from whom she drew her strength, the one with doubt in his eyes. “I can handle her. You don�
��t have to trust her. Trust me.”

  Wes took a deep breath.

  She knew he trusted her with his crew, with his heart, with his life. She had to make him understand this was their only way out. It was time to go, no time to hesitate. They would handle whatever came after, if she was wrong about this. But she wasn’t wrong.

  “Trust me,” she repeated.

  Wes rubbed his eyes with his fists. When he put his hands away, she saw that they were still red. “I do trust you. Always.” He kissed her forehead. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  Nat inhaled sharply, relieved that it would soon be over. Soon, they would be back in Vallonis, away from this carnage.

  Wes took her hand and together they walked to the portal. Through the smoke they went, hurrying as best they could. The doorway to Vallonis looked bigger than it had from a distance. It made a sound like a hurricane that made it hard to speak, hard to think. The Queen waited at the base of the portal, silent, unmoving. Wes came closer.

  He turned toward Nineveh and gave her the slightest nod.

  The Queen gestured to the entrance with one delicate, white-sleeved arm, and moved aside. It was all so strange, almost like a dream. She was just standing there, silent as marble, gesturing to the doorway.

  With a flash of light and a great roar, the first of the marked prisoners walked through the portal, and disappeared into Vallonis. Liannan stood at the door, frantically calling for them to hurry through it. There had been hundreds in the White Temple, but there were only a handful of survivors now. They gawked at Nineveh and hurried past. The Queen kept her chin raised high. When they were all safe, Liannan followed, Shakes at her side. The smallmen were next.

  Nat stood at the portal’s edge. Warm air kissed her face, the scent of orange and jasmine heady and sweet. She couldn’t wait to go home. She couldn’t wait for this bleak chapter in their life to be over.

  Wes tugged her coat. “Come on,” he said, anxiously looking over his shoulder at the tanks that were headed their way.

  “You first,” she said. She was the drakonrydder of Vallonis; she would be last to leave.