“Em!”
“I swear if you take another step...” Her voice was low and commanding. She didn’t get to finish her thought because fear flashed in her eyes, and her face drained of all color. Her body crumpled; Brokk rushed forward, catching her before she hit the floor. The strange device skittered on the floor, a voice ringing out from it as Memphis came up beside Brokk.
He stepped on it, destroying it beneath his boot as he said, “I just placed her former memories back in. Her mind couldn’t handle it; she will come around in a couple of days or so. We have to get back to Kiero. Now.” A smug expression crossed Memphis’s features when he took Emory in like a prize.
Lifting Emory in his arms, Brokk tried to compose his racing pulse as he also gripped Memphis’s arm. Each time, it was easier to fall into the pull of the current of energy. The world cracked and dissolved into a million pieces but, at the same time, into nothingness. Freefalling, he held onto his friends, wishing he could just freeze this moment a second longer to feel her body against his.
It was a reminder that she was real, and that they had succeeded.
They were bringing her home.
***
Blood poured from his nostrils. Pressing his sleeve to his face, Brokk sat down, pinching his nose. Emory was still unconscious and sprawled across the forest floor. They were back on the outskirts of the Academy.
Memphis paced back and forth; his brow furrowed. “We are too exposed; we have to get back to the Academy, Brokk. You can rest there,” Memphis snapped at him, his agitation obvious.
Stemming his bloodied nose, Brokk asked roughly, “Memphis, what’s your problem? We have succeeded, Emory is home. No matter what we are walking back into with the rebels, I have dreamt of this day for the last six years.”
“Oh, I can imagine you have, Brokk. Now let’s go before a dabarne or a raider attacks us. We are letting our emotions cloud our judgment,” Memphis stated, darkly.
Pressing his lips into a thin line, Brokk gave a brusque nod.
Traveling by the channel left him irritable and drained. Anger curled around his heart. He risked just as much as Memphis had. Without him, Emory wouldn’t even be here. Brokk’s emotions were on a tight leash, feeling as if any moment he would lash out. Using his ability had its limits, and he needed to rest. He saw it as an exchange of energy and strength to be able to accomplish something others have only dreamed of.
Standing, he made a move to lift Emory, but Memphis protectively moved in front of her.
“I have to be the one to bring her in. We both know that.” His voice was just a whisper as Brokk squinted at him. Shaking his head, Brokk left him, making his way back to the Academy. Tension swelled inside him, but he was too tired to start a fight. Memphis following suit, cradling Emory in his arms.
Time was a mysterious thing. What only felt like a couple of hours on Earth, an entire day had passed back at the Academy. Brokk spotted Nyx stalking back and forth like a predator about to pounce.
Giving her a slight nod, her gaze grew distant when she took in the sight behind Brokk. In Memphis’s arms, Emory hung limply, pale as her hair swayed with the rhythm of his steps.
“Is she dead?” Nyx asked.
“Just knocked out. Memph restored her previous memories. It will take a couple of days before she will be awake, he thinks.”
For once, she didn’t snap back at him with a snarky reply. “I have reached an agreement with the others. We stand with you both, moving forward with the new plan and her. Everyone is still having trouble with the logic behind saving her life but letting ours fall into this mess. Luckily, you were both young, and you have done enough to redeem yourselves since then. People will forgive you, in time. But never forget, Brokk, that now she has to pay the price.”
Patting her shoulder, Brokk maneuvered to the door and on toward his beckoning bed. With one last look, he reminded himself Emory would be there when he awoke, no longer a long-lost memory. Opening the iron door, he wondered how long Byrd had left the Academy uncovered, not hidden by her ability.
Stepping into the hallway, he was met by its emptiness, and he made a mental note to ask her if any of the raiders or Adair’s men had seen them.
Shit.
His head was pounding, the metallic taste of blood running down the back of his throat as he tried to stem the flow. His feet carried him as he stumbled toward his room. Down the hallway, he turned left and then right; he was greeted by his all too familiar grey washed door. Pushing it open, he saw a small bunker, a desk with books, and scattered papers floating around.
Pinned up above his bed was a small illustration. Its edges were burnt, smudges of dried blood spattering it, but it was drawn by Emory, one of the first things Brokk had found when they returned all those years ago. It was a piece of her that had turned into his most prized possession. The portrait was rough, but him, Memphis, and Emory were clearly depicted, laughing and carefree.
Brokk walked to the picture, running his thumb over the worn paper, before he collapsed on his bed and sleep overtook him.
***
Running through the woods, Brokk heard the ambush behind him following closely. The volley of arrows thudded into the tree trunks, and he ducked, clutching the weapons in his grip. He just had to make it to the Academy border line, where Alby and Wyatt were waiting for him. His raid had gone smoothly—the burnt down village providing weapons and charred clothing the rebels could salvage.
Sprinting, Brokk ducked as the next wave of arrows came far too close.
