The Earth Dwellers

“And then, unbeknownst to me, you convinced the vast majority of the Riders that this was the wisest course of action,” Gard says. The twinkle in his eye doesn’t match his words. Is he angry or does he find it fu

“In the end you agreed, Father,” says Remy.

“You could have talked to me first. I would have listened,” Gard says.

“What difference does it make?” Sadie says. “We’re here now, aren’t we?”

I want to laugh at the almost identical look of embarrassment that flashes across Remy’s and Gard’s faces. But I don’t ’cause I’m trying to be all serious the way Wilde and Skye are.

“We’re glad you’re here,” Wilde says. She tells ’em about the Icers.

“Mother Earth,” Sadie says. “This is real, isn’t it?”

“Why are they doing this?” Gard says.

Wilde shrugs. “They fear what they don’t understand.”

“And their leader’s a searin’ baggard,” I add helpfully.

“There’s that, too,” Wilde says, smiling grimly. “And what of the Soakers? Did they have an opinion?”

I lean in, curious for Jade’s sake. After all, the last thing she did in storm country was kiss that Soaker boy, Huck Jones. If he’s hiding in them trees, it’ll be another person I’ll have to protect. And the person I’ll be protecting him from is Skye, who’s leaning in too, her eyes gleaming.

“Admiral Jones agreed with us,” Gard says. “He tried to convince the other captains but couldn’t get a majority. After the way his father led, he refuses to force them to do anything they don’t want to.”

“I don’t blame him,” Wilde says. Skye and I lean back at the same time. I guess we’ll be saving that fight for another time.

I glance at the sky above. Time’s a-wastin’; the sun’s already over its peak. Who knows where Tristan is, whether he’ll come through for us, but we’ve gotta hold up our end of the bargain. “Uh, Wilde,” I say.

“I know,” she says. “We can’t delay any further. It’s time to move on the Glass City.” We stand as one. “We’d be honored to fight with you by our sides,” Wilde says to Gard, extending a slender hand.

Gard grabs it, his hand looking like that of a giant next to Wilde’s. “We shall be victorious,” he says.

“And go with honor and strength,” Sadie says.

The way they say these words, I can tell they’re more’n just words to ’em. They’re important. Maybe they’ll help us in some way we can’t fully understand yet.

I think there’s a lot I don’t fully understand, that I haven’t come to terms with. It’s like I can’t get my pebble-sized brain ’round the magnitude of what we’re ’bout to do, like this is just another day and tomorrow I’ll wake up and hug Circ and curse Perry and crack jokes with my sisters…

But it ain’t just another day. This is THE DAY. More’n likely the last one. There’s so much I need to do.

While the Stormer leaders go to organize the Riders, and Wilde and Feve begin preparing our people for the final leg of the journey, I grab Skye’s arm. She looks at my hand and then at me. “Siena, don’t,” she says.

“I hafta,” I say.

“You don’t hafta do nothin’.”

“Don’t make me hurt you,” I say, pulling her into a hug.

At first she struggles against me, all hard and sharp angles, but then she softens, squeezes back. “You ain’t dyin’,” she says.

“Then neither are you,” I say.

Still locked in an embrace we pull back, looking at each other. “Siena, I—I might hafta put myself in more danger to do what I gotta do.”

I glare at her. “I’ll chase on after you wherever you go.”

“Promise me you won’t,” she says.

“I can’t,” I say. “I ain’t go

“Oh sun goddess,” she says, trying to look angry but failing at it. “You can be so burnin’ stubborn sometimes.”

“I get it from you,” I say. We hug once more and then she just walks away, toward the front, where Wilde and Feve are waiting.

Circ’s standing nearby, the sun browning his skin and showing off the muscles of his bare chest. “Looking smoky,” I say, whistling. “Just hanging out there looking pretty?” He should laugh. He’d usually laugh. He walks over. Serious Circ. “Don’t,” I say, realizing I sound just like Skye even as I say it.

“Don’t what?” he says, putting an arm ’round me.

“Don’t make a big thing outta this.”

“Like you just did with Skye?” he says. “Siena, I’ll make a big thing out of this, because it is a big thing. You are a big thing. You’re everything.”

“I’m just me,” I say.

“You’re all I want,” Circ says. “All I ever wanted. And now…”

“Now you’ve got me and there ain’t no fire-stick-wielding Glassy go

Finally, Circ laughs, ’cause he can’t help it ’round me. “Okay,” he says, pulling me into a big ol’ hug.

A rumble of thunder and a cloud of dust fill the air as hundreds of Riders gallop past us, toward the front of the column. And still we go on holding each other, just a moment longer, then another. If this is the last time I’ll ever hold him, I’d better make it good.

Finally, when my people have already started marching, and the Riders are leading the way, and the whole world is dangling from the edge of a cliff, we pull away.

The world can end now. I’m ready.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Tristan

The transporters will make five trips to the surface, carrying fifty soldiers with each go. They’ll be a mixture of sun, moon, and star dweller men and women, hand selected by the leaders in each subchapter. Although I’ve warned the leaders about the toxicity of the air, we’ve all agreed that masks won’t be necessary for such a short amount of exposure. Soon we’ll all either be dead or inside the filtered atmosphere of the Dome. In five hours we’ll have nearly ten thousand troops positioned throughout the desert, all around the New City, surrounding it.

All the soldiers and their leaders have been briefed about what to expect up there, how hot it is, how big everything looks, but they won’t fully appreciate it until they see it for themselves.

I don’t know if it will be enough, but we can’t risk delaying the attack any longer. If the people of the Tri-Tribes get there first…

I don’t even want to think about the bodies in the sand. Seeing the Icers like that was enough tragedy for a lifetime.

I’m about to leave the palace when she walks in through the front door, like she owns the place. Her posture is upright, her face stern, her uniform unwrinkled. She’s a leader and a soldier, through and through.

“I was wondering when I’d see you,” I say.

“I was busy keeping my soldiers’ emotions in check,” General Rose says, “and I figured you were even busier.” Then she smiles, and she’s not a general, just a person, the mother of the girl I love. “Tristan, thank God you’re alive.”

To my surprise, she steps closer and hugs me, her embrace far warmer than I expected it to be. “Uh, thanks. You too.”

“We’ll find Adele, even if we have to smash every last pane of glass in the New City,” she says. How does she know that behind my façade of leadership, my every waking, aching thought is of her daughter?

“I know,” I say, even though I don’t.

Pulling away, she says, “The first Capitol transporter just left for the surface. The other subchapters have sent theirs too.” I’m amazed at how quickly she switches roles, from general to mother to friend, and back again, like they’re cloaks she can swap in the blink of an eye.

“Good,” I say. “We’ll be on the last one.”

She nods. “I want my daughter to be there,” she says.

I don’t understand. Where does she want Adele to be?

“Elsey,” she clarifies. “She refuses to be left behind and I won’t have it any other way. She marched to the Capitol with my soldiers, stayed at the very back with the medics and cooks.”