Free Novel Read

Out Of Darkness (The Starborn Saga) Page 9


  “I assure you, her well-being is in good hands,” Krindle motions to Rob. Connor glares as Rob stands just a little bit taller. Krindle looks back at me. “Please be at the front gate in an hour, Mora.”

  “I’ll be there,” I tell him as he turns to the door to leave.

  It’s difficult for me to conceal my excitement. For the past few days, I haven’t really known whether I would be able to get help for Springhill at all. Now it seems that help is falling in my lap.

  Connor doesn’t say much as we finish our meal. I know he wants to go, but the final command has been spoken.

  I can’t help but wonder how Connor truly feels about the Screven guards. Obviously his brother is all-out against them and ready to take them down. Connor seems to think they are necessary, though he doesn’t seem to get along with them.

  We finish our meal in a tense silence and Connor tells me he’ll walk me to the gate. I glance at Evelyn’s shack, suddenly remembering that she wanted to talk to me about something before going to see Jeremiah.

  I have a lot of questions about my powers, but they must wait. It’s time to finish what I have set out to do. Besides, she probably only wants to tell me more about how terrible a leader Jeremiah is. That’s not what I need to hear right now.

  We make our way to the front gate. Even though we’re about thirty minutes early, Aaron is already waiting next to the outer wall and Rob is servicing a truck to make sure it’s ready to go.

  “I didn’t know you’d be coming too,” Aaron says to Connor. He flashes the same devious grin that I’m used to seeing from Connor. Perhaps they really are brothers.

  “I’m not. Just wanted to see Mora off is all.” He walks up next to Aaron and lets out a deep breath. “I don’t know if you know this yet, but Jeremiah is asking you to go to Screven to talk about your powers.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Aaron says. “Why else would he ask to meet with me?”

  “So, what is it, Aaron?” Connor asks. “When did you find out you can shoot lightning out of your hands?”

  “Well, that’s not exactly what happens,” Aaron says. “But it’s been a little while. A few years.”

  Connor turns on him sharply. “A few years? You’ve been able to do this for a few years, and I’m finding out about it along with everyone else?”

  It comes as a surprise to me too. I don’t know how close they are in their relationship, but even if they hate each other, I find it hard to believe that Aaron could have kept it a secret for so long. I can’t help but wonder why.

  By his red cheeks and angry glare, I can tell that Connor is upset. “I didn’t want to take any chances,” Aaron says.

  This just makes Connor angrier. He begins to storm away. Aaron rolls his eyes.

  “Connor wait,” I call out. He stops and looks back at me. “I don’t know if I’ll see you after this. If all goes well, I’m hoping Jeremiah will send me back to Springhill.”

  Connor looks away from me for a moment, then back. “Mora, I truly hope everything works out for you. Good luck with your village.”

  “Thank you for saving my life,” I say.

  He smiles at me, but there is no light in his eyes. He almost has a defeated expression on his face. “Knowing what I know now, it seems you didn’t need me after all. Good luck, Mora.”

  He turns and walks away from us. I can’t help but feel like I’ve betrayed him somehow. To leave here without him seems wrong. I know he truly wants to help, but I’m not so sure there is anything for him to do. His company would be welcome except that it could be awkward having brothers with two opposing views on Jeremiah and his guards from Screven.

  I force the guilt down as I turn and stand next to Aaron. I feel a bit awkward having listened in on one of his secret conversations. I know I’m going to have to keep a close watch on him because he wants me to join up with these other people. What did Evelyn call them? Starborn? I’ve got to keep my guard up because I’m not sure if I can trust anyone here. The only people I can trust are my family. My brother’s face is a constant in my mind. I’m doing all of this for him. For my grandma. For all of Springhill.

  “You could have been nicer to him,” I say to Aaron. “He really does want to help.”

  “That’s the problem,” Aaron says, not looking at me. “He always wants to help, but with Connor comes trouble. He’s like a magnet that attracts it. I don’t need him to screw anything up.”

  “That’s why you never told him about your powers?”

  Aaron nods.

  “He seems hurt that you didn’t tell him.”

  “He’ll get over it.”

  There’s a long silence for a minute or so. I don’t really know what to say. I’m not usually the kind of person to feel weird with long silences, but for some reason, this one is very uncomfortable.

  “So, a few years, huh?”

  “Six actually.”

  “That’s a pretty impressive power,” I say.

  “Not a power,” he says. “It’s a gift. You and I are both gifted.”

  “What’s the difference?” I ask. “It’s an ability, a gift, a power. Why does it matter what I call it?”

  “Did you do anything to gain your ability?” he asks.

  “Well, no, but…”

  “That’s right, it’s been given to you,” he says. “It’s a gift. You have been gifted.”

  I guess I see his point, but I still don’t see why it matters. I don’t express this, but instead I walk over to the truck, disappointed that I’ll be taking a long trip with Aaron. The more I’m around him, the less I like him.

  “Rob, are we about ready to go?” I ask.

  He looks up at me with a curious expression and then wipes the sweat from his eyes.

  “A little early,” he says. He looks the truck up and down. “But I suppose we could go ahead and leave.”

  I get in the passenger side of the truck. Rob says nothing as he gets behind the wheel. Aaron sits in the back seat of the extended cab behind Rob.

  Though I don’t look forward to the hours of riding with a group that has no desire to talk to one another, I’m ready to get to Screven.

  The drive is exactly as I predicted. Silent and boring. I try to sleep along the way, but for some reason I can’t. I haven’t had any deep rest in a couple of days, but I think I’m too excited at the idea of finally finishing this journey. If the meeting goes well tomorrow, I’ll be done. I will have accomplished everything that I’ve set out to do. By tomorrow afternoon, I will have no need to worry about Aaron, or even whatever Evelyn had wanted to talk to me about. These people will no longer be in my life and will become a distant memory.

  Though, I’m not sure I’ll forget Connor and how kind he has been to me. Unfortunately, I’m not going to forget a lot of the things that have taken place over the past few days.

  As we drive on and on, I wonder how Salem can be so rich with farm growth when the land around it is so dead. The terrain we drive on turns from dusty, barren land to subtle grassy plains. That subtlety dies and the grass becomes greener, and then there are forests.

  An hour or two after night has overtaken the sky, I can see the outline of the magnificent city of Screven. My heart beats faster as we come nearer to it. I’m glad the darkness hides my amazement. I’m sure it’s even greater during the day.

  “It’s dark so it doesn’t attract the greyskins,” Rob says. It’s the first thing he has said the entire trip.

  About a mile or two out, Rob turns off the headlights and follows the road by moonlight. Because of this, I can see the city even more clearly, or at least the walls surrounding it. The perimeter wall is at least three times taller than Salem’s, and probably twice as thick.

  “How many people live here?” I ask.

  “Over a hundred thousand,” Rob says.

  “Wow,” I mutter quietly. No wonder Screven is able to offer so much protection to so many other places. It’s huge. I can tell that there aren’t very many tall buildings, and I’m g
uessing that’s so the lights will stay below the wall’s edge. As I scan the skyline, I do see a few buildings that reach far above the others, but their lights are out, or at least the windows are blackened.

  As we come closer to the front gate of the city, Rob flashes his headlights a few times in a very specific pattern that I don’t understand. A loud, deep voice sounds out from his wristband.

  “Screven vehicle, you have given the proper lighting signal, please give us your identification number.”

  “0-1-1-8-1-9-8-7,” he says.

  “Good evening, Sir. Please stand by for Scan-Tech and we will open the gate for you promptly.”

  “Acknowledged,” Rob says.

  “Scan-Tech?” I ask.

  Aaron unexpectedly answers from the back seat. “Long-range laser scan,” he says. “Checks the area for greyskins to make sure it’s safe to open the gate.”

  I’m impressed. I didn’t know people had technology like this anymore. My grandma told me that when she was a child, technology was so advanced that many people had a machine to tell them where to go while driving a vehicle; they could hear about news from around the world in a matter of seconds; one could even carry an entire collection of books in a pocket. She always says that with the greyskins came the death of advanced technology. Thinking about the Scan-Tech, I suppose that not all advanced technology is dead.

  “You are clear to drive through,” the voice sounds out. “Welcome to Screven.”

  Rob pulls forward as the gates open slowly and we move into the depths of the city. Rob flips on the headlights and I can see hundreds of buildings. These aren’t shacks like in my village or even Salem. These are houses, long buildings, tall buildings. It looks like there are even stores and shops throughout. It seems so well-off compared to anything I’ve ever seen before.

  We drive through the eastern edge of the city, passing people who are on foot. Some of them are laughing with friends; others are in serious conversation. None of them seem tired or worried. They especially don’t look ill-fed. Almost everyone I see is so much bigger than the people I know. They look as if they must eat five meals a day at least. There are the occasional fit-looking individuals, but for the most part, these people are fat and happy. I can’t help but feel a little jealous as we pass through.

  What would it be like to live in such a place? To know that my next meal will be there for me without a doubt? To know that it would take a thousand years for greyskins to get through the walls of my city?

  I shake my head at the thoughts. These people probably have no idea how lucky they are. My grandma is the only person I know to have ever experienced these joys and pleasures. But they were ripped from her in one cruel second.

  Sometimes I don’t know what would be worse: to live your whole life without ever knowing what it means not to struggle, or to have a life without worries, and then have it taken from you.

  In a few minutes we come to an enormous building. It’s taller than all the others, and the base is wide and the walls are thick.

  “This is the Center,” Rob says as he parks the truck in the street in front of it. “It’s not really the center of the city, but it is the center of everything that goes on in Jeremiah’s city and his empire.”

  “Empire?” Aaron asks from the back.

  Rob looks at him through he rearview mirror, but ignores his question. “It is also where the two of you will be sleeping tonight, and where you will meet Jeremiah in the morning.”

  As we get out of the truck, I instantly feel the need to stretch my limbs as far out as possible, and I reach for the starlit sky. I follow Rob and Aaron up the stairs where we are greeted by more Screven guards. My spine tingles at being here. I can’t decide if I’m nervous or excited.

  There is one guard who steps forward and extends a hand to each of us. His blonde hair is shaped perfectly, and his smile never wavers.

  “Welcome to the Center,” he says, finally getting to me. “My name is Trevor and I’ll be taking care of you while you stay with us.”

  His smile is too flashy. If he tried any harder it would be an obvious act. But as it stands, I’m not sure if Trevor is really genuine or not.

  “I’ll show you to your rooms, Mister Aaron and Miss Mora.”

  I look back at Rob, but he apparently has other plans that don’t include us. That doesn’t bother me in the least bit.

  Trevor takes us through several dimly lit hallways, telling us useless information about the architecture and art throughout. I tune him out as I just take in the beauty of it all.

  “…and there’s even access to a nice balcony at the end of your hallway.”

  Finally, after about ten minutes of a one-sided conversation, Trevor brings us to the hallway with several rooms lining the two sides.

  “There are no guests with you tonight, so you will have the floor to yourselves.” He hands us each a key. The number engraved on mine is 315. “Is there anything else you need before you go to bed for the night?”

  Aaron and I shake our heads. “Thank you,” I say.

  Trevor smiles. “If you need anything at all, please feel free to contact me on your room’s telephone. Just dial zero.”

  I thank him again and he heads to the elevator, leaving Aaron and me standing in the hallway.

  Aaron looks at me and lets out a breath. “A little stuffy in here isn’t it?”

  “I think it’s nice,” I say.

  “Well, of course it’s nice, but it’s not real. This isn’t how anyone in the world really lives. Only in this city.”

  “But we can live like this for the night,” I come back, feeling myself starting to get irritated.

  “I almost don’t feel right about it,” he says. “Salem is one of the many colonies that pays for things like this. It’s because of colonies like mine that we’re sleeping in some fancy building.”

  “Well, it won’t last forever,” I say. “No use trying to feel bad about it. You’re forced to be here. Make the best of it.”

  “You don’t understand,” he says. “You can’t understand.”

  My breathing becomes quicker as I get annoyed at him for the condescension. Of course I understand where he’s coming from.

  “My village is far worse off than your colony,” I tell him. “Don’t tell me I don’t understand. I understand that you can sleep at night without worrying about a greyskin herd attacking you. I understand that my village can barely grow food in the wasteland of the plains. Don’t tell me that I don’t understand, or that I can’t understand!”

  My hands are shaking as I stomp away from him and try to open my room door with my key. I drop it on the ground and have to bend down to pick it up. My vision blurs with the tears that I’m not expecting.

  I can’t let him see me cry. Please don’t see me cry.

  The key finds its way into the hole and I swing the door open and slam it shut as I storm into my room. Then I spin around and lock the deadbolt in place. I rest my back against the door and slide down until my rear touches the carpeted floor. The tears are free flowing and there’s nothing I can do to stop them.

  I don’t even really know why I’m crying. This whole thing was supposed to be so simple.

  Minutes go by.

  I rest my head on the door as my body begins to calm a little. For the first time, I actually look at the room. It’s as nice as every other part of the building. There is a large four-poster bed near the middle, and enormous windows on the other side, providing a view of the entire city. I barely take notice of the paintings and decorations throughout because my eye has caught something else.

  At the end of the bed is a large wicker basket, overflowing with food and treats. I hadn’t felt hungry before, but my stomach growls loudly at the sight.

  I pull myself off the ground and walk to the basket. The red bow at the top easily unties. There’s bread, cheese, condiments, and sweets that I’ve never seen before. There are even various sandwich meats that are still cold to the touch. A little
note on the inside of the basket instructs me to put the meat in the cold box below the mirror when I’m finished.

  I look around the room until I spot the mirror. I walk to the box below it and open the door. The cold blast of air hits me, and I let my fingers press against the inside. I’ve seen these plenty of times, but never one that actually worked.

  On the bottom shelf are several bottles of dark liquid with the word Cola on the side. I almost gasp at seeing them. My grandma gave me one of these when I was a little girl. It tasted so sweet and I wanted another one, but she told me that was the only one she had.

  I grab one and twist the cap from the top, ready to taste the beloved drink. I’ve never had a cold one before.

  I bring the bottle to my mouth and take a large gulp.

  What I don’t swallow lands on the floor as I cough out in surprise. The liquid is burning my throat. What is this? The pain only lasts a few seconds, but the taste is wonderful. I decide to drink more, only this time I sip it instead of gulp. The result is much more satisfying. It’s not exactly the same drink I remember from my childhood, but I think it’s actually better. I take the bottle with me as I spend the next hour looking through the basket of food, trying just about everything until I start to feel sick. I look at the clock on the wall and can’t help but feel that I should be going to sleep, but I know I won’t be able to. The anticipation of tomorrow’s meeting makes my heart sink every time I think about it. I don’t know what I will tell everyone back home if Jeremiah rejects my plea. Of course, I don’t really know what I will tell them if he agrees either.

  About halfway through my second ham and cheese sandwich, I remember Trevor saying something about access to a balcony. Perhaps a good long stare at the sky will help me get sleepy.

  I set the sandwich on a tray and wash it down with the rest of my Cola. My stomach has never felt so full, but I like it. I slip the room key into my pocket and walk out into the hallway. I stand for a moment, trying to hear if Aaron is in one of the rooms, eating away. Knowing him, he’s probably shunned the food and refuses to eat until he’s back home.