“So no goodbye, then?”
I jump at Atlas’s voice, spinning to see him standing at the edge of the porch, leaning against the corner post. I was so focused on what I was doing that I hadn’t even noticed him there.
“You don’t look surprised.”
“I’m not.” He smiles a little, just enough to curl at the corners of his mouth. “They aren’t, either.”
He jerks his head over his shoulder, toward two figures standing on the north edge of town, waiting for me. It’s too dark to make out their faces, but I don’t need to. I know who they are. I should’ve guessed that this was never going to be as easy as I thought. I was prepared to do this alone, but seeing them now, all I can feel is relief.
“Am I that predictable?”
Atlas chuckles dryly. “To me? No. But those two had you figured out before I think you even knew for sure what you were going to do.”
I glance back over my shoulder at the dark, quiet little shack. “I told Kelda I wouldn’t leave her behind. She’s not going to understand.”
“No, she’s not,” he says, and I appreciate that there’s no softness in his reply. It’s a hard answer delivered with the harshness it deserves. “But she won’t be alone. Liren and I will take care of her.”
I nod, swallowing the ache in the back of my throat. “Thank you.”
His eyes shine darker and deeper than the night, and for a moment, I think that might be all that passes between us. He has no reason to give me anything more. Even after all the help he’s offered us and his kindness to me back on that roof, I was still the harbinger of trouble he thought I’d be.
But just as I’m about to walk away, he puts his hands on my shoulders and bends down to touch his forehead to mine.
“Remember there’s divinity in all of us, Valene Bruinn,” he says. “Even you.”
I can’t find the words to respond to that; they all get clogged in my chest. So I just nod again and step off the porch, strapping on my knives and hooking my canteen on to my belt as I go. Dani and Orion are talking to each other in quiet murmurs, but their conversation drops off abruptly as I get close. They both have rucksacks tied tight and strapped to their backs, but not me. I don’t want to be weighed down by anything extra. Whatever happens out there, I’m facing it as is.
No more running from what I am. No more secrets that hang on me like weights. It’s time to settle this, once and for all.
I scan their faces, the dim silvery luminescence from the moons casting deep black shadows into the hollows of their eyes and their cheeks. “Both of you should head back inside. This is not your fight.”
Orion huffs, looking offended. “Now that is a hell of a thing to say to us. After everything we just went through together.”
“Speak for yourself,” says Dani. She studies her nails, sounding bored. “I’m only here because I bet Booker a hundred cash that we’re going to get all the way up there and find nothing.”
“I can’t…” I meet Orion’s gaze, but the rest of the words won’t come out.I can’t let you break yourself trying to save me.
“It’s not just about you, V,” he says gently. Then he straightens, tightening one of the straps on his rucksack. “Now are we gonna waste more time? Or are we gonna start moving?”
He turns and walks off, heading out into the Plains. Dani gives me a wry, half-hearted smile and then starts after him, jogging to catch up with his long strides.
I stare at their backs, knowing I should object harder, that where I’m going is too dangerous. I should be doing this alone, like I always do.
But look where going it alone got me. Maybe that was the problem all along.
In one phase, I catch up to them, and together, Dani, Orion, and I set off for the Gate of Heaven, just as the second moon clears the horizon.
THE SAINT
THEN
I am—
Hearing. Halle’s first laughs. Round little baby, deep belly chuckles at Papa’s silly faces. Contagious chuckles. Until all four of us are laughing.
I am—
Telling my secrets to Orion on our rooftop. Tucked in the shade beneath a borrowed blanket scrap. A fort, a sanctuary made just for the two of us. Skinned knees. Joined hands. Rust under our nails. Promising to always be together.
