A Fractured Light Read online

  “Right . . .”

  She absentmindedly put the mug in the sink, even though she’d just washed it, and left the room. A few seconds later, I heard the front door slam and her car start. If it was possible to feel like an outsider in your own home, that’s how I felt. Like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough. Like she didn’t want to talk to me or touch me or even be in the same room.

  I finished my cereal and left a few minutes later. On the way to school, I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel in time to the music, giddy at the thought of being back on the ski team. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it.

  Even though it was only March, everything felt like it was coming alive—including me. It had been a long, cold winter, a dark winter, full of fear and an aching I’d never known before. But now the spring was coming and I could feel it at the tips of my fingers and on my cheeks. I could choose what I wanted to be.

  The student lot was deserted, and I pulled into a spot close to the front doors. I had gotten to school especially early today. I had a feeling I would run into someone here. And I wanted to be alone with him when I did.

  The halls were mostly empty. As I walked, the heavy soles of my boots echoing against the shiny floor, I caught sight of a dark figure retreating at the other end of the hallway. His solid frame was silhouetted against the window.

  For a second I thought I’d fallen into one of my dreams, the ones that kept repeating until I could barely remember what the truth was anymore. But this wasn’t a dream.

  I stopped short.

  “Hey,” I called. “Hey! Devin!” My voice echoed down the empty corridor. The figure stopped walking and stayed still. His head was lowered as if he was looking at the ground.

  I sucked in my breath. Suddenly I wasn’t so sure I wanted to do this.

  Slowly he turned around and lifted his eyes from the ground in front of him. They were cold, blue as a frozen lake. Memories of Devin came rushing back to me. I remembered the night I first saw him at Love the Bean; the day we met, outside of homeroom; our snowball fight; and the morning after when I woke up lying next to him. How could those eyes, that had looked so sleepy and innocent and surprised to find me in his bed that morning—how could those eyes be capable of such coldness? How could they look at me as if I meant nothing to him? As if emotion wasn’t something that you felt but that you chose—cold and calculated just like the Order had taught him?

  Hadn’t he cared about me at all?

  Hadn’t he loved me?

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  “Did you want to talk to me? I thought . . .” I wasn’t sure what I thought. “Didn’t you leave me . . . a flower?”

  He looked at me questioningly.

  “Look, I have a lot of questions,” I said. “And I think I deserve some answers.”

  He looked away. “What makes you think I have the answers?”

  “Because you’re the one who tried to kill me.”

  His attention snapped back to me. His eyes were hard.

  “Go ahead, then.”

  But suddenly confronted with the idea of finding out the truth, my heart shrank. If he didn’t love me, it would hurt. Even though I was devoted to Asher, had chosen him completely, there was something about the Guardian that I felt so sad about giving up. If he didn’t love me—or if he did love me and had agreed to kill me anyway—well, then, the pain would be like the sword he’d stabbed me with, twisting sharply in my gut.

  Suddenly I didn’t want to be hurt again by him. By anyone, really. The Skye who had waffled back and forth for so long between the Order and the Rebellion—between Devin and Asher—seemed like a person in a book who I had read about once. Someone remote and fictional. She wasn’t me. She never would be again.

  “Never mind,” I said. “I don’t want to know.” I started to turn, to walk away back down the empty hall.

  “I dreamed about you,” he blurted out. His voice broke into the silent hallway, catching me off-guard. “Every night . . . after it happened. I still do.”

  I turned around in shock. “What?”

  He looked just as shocked as I did at the words that had flown out of his mouth. But he kept talking. “I thought you were dead. When I drew the sword out and you fell, and . . . he . . . pulled you away, I thought you were dead. But then when none of the Gifted would tell me the status of the mission, I knew they didn’t know. And I had to hope that if they didn’t know, it meant you were still alive, blurring out your own destiny and that of the people whose lives you touch. Hiding from the Order. I had to hope that I had failed. And you were still alive.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” I felt shaky, my resolve cracking.

  “If you’re still able to do that—blur destiny—then soon there will be no such thing as destiny at all. And the Order will be pointless. They know that, Skye. It’s not safe for you here.” He paused, his voice level and even, as if he wasn’t affected by what he was saying, as if he had no fear at all. How could someone seem to be so full of so many different emotions and yet be incapable of feeling any of them? “You’re going to destroy us all,” he said. The calm in his voice was maddening.

  “Now you’re warning me?”

  “No,” he said softly. “I’m just telling you the facts.”

  “Skye, Skye, Skye,” a voice chimed like a crystal bell behind me.

  Devin’s head snapped up and his eyes focused over my shoulder. I didn’t have to turn around to know that Raven was standing there, preventing me from asking what I had been about to.

  “Raven,” Devin said warningly under his breath.

  “I’m so glad you’re both here.”

  “What do you want?” My voice was cold, hard.

  “Who, me? I was just looking for my fated one.” She sauntered over and offered Devin a hand. He glanced at me before reaching out—and taking it. “We’re bonded now, Skye, didn’t he tell you?”

  What? I looked at him, my eyes wide, but he stared at the ground.

  “We underwent the ceremony just a couple of days ago,” Raven continued, her fingers tightening around his bicep possessively. As if I might still want him. As if I might still trust that the angel in front of me wanted me to succeed. The idea was so horrible, it made my blood seethe. I could never want Devin. I hated him. Hated him. I heard the locker doors that lined the hallway begin to rattle as the floor beneath us shook. Raven raised an eyebrow. “Don’t be mad, Skye. He thought he’d killed you, after all.”

  Chapter 14

  Involuntarily I found myself backing away.

  Raven was soulless, dangerous, the perfect, obedient Guardian. I knew what she was capable of, and if she and Devin were now bonded, it meant the Gifted had another way to make sure Devin stayed in line.

  It also meant that even though it had been crazy to think it, even for a second, there was no way I could ever trust him.

  I was so upset that I had to jam my hands into the pockets of my jeans to keep from shaking. What was wrong with me? How could I be disappointed that an angel whose job had been to kill me was celestially bonded to another?

  Maybe it was because my gut was telling me something else.

  Deep down I knew that, while the Order had control over Devin’s mind and body, they couldn’t control his heart. They could force a sword into his hand and force Raven into his life, but they couldn’t force him to be happy. And when I looked at him, I knew he wasn’t. There were so many things he was holding back. His eyes told me all I needed to know.

  There was someone good in there, someone who wanted desperately to escape. I knew it even if he didn’t.

  “Oh, Skye, don’t go so soon,” Raven said sweetly.

  “I hope you two are happy together,” I said. “But you both better stay far, far away from me.”

  “Skye, wait,” Devin blurted.

  “Devin,” Raven said sharply, and he fell back.

  I turned and walked away down the hall.

  Asher was waiti
ng for me at my locker, wearing his familiar beat-up army jacket and jeans. There was something so comforting about seeing him there waiting for me. He was my rock, my reality, and the weird encounter with Devin and Raven was just another bad dream. Asher was the one I woke up to. He broke into the slightly wicked grin that used to make me fight back a smile. But now I let myself get lost in it.

  “I missed you last night,” I said, inserting myself under his arm and snuggling in. He kissed the top of my head.

  “Gideon told me what happened on the road. Are you okay?”

  Was I? I thought about all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours: focusing more of my powers, asking Gideon to help me, my decision to rejoin the ski team. Even my confrontation with Devin. All of it felt like it was leading me toward some kind of moment of clarity.

  “I’ve never been better,” I said, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him. His lips were soft and warm and sent tiny pinpricks of light through my nerve endings. He wove a hand up my neck and through my hair.

  “Mmm,” he murmured. “So I don’t need to kick anyone’s ass?”

  “Not unless you want to.” I grinned, pulling away.

  “Oh, you have no idea.” Asher’s eyes clouded over.

  “Get a room, you two,” Cassie said, her locker door slamming shut next to us.

  “You’re one to talk!” I yelled, swatting her. “Babes.”

  “Babes?” said Asher. He turned to me. “Really?”

  “Shut up.” Cassie laughed. “Dan said it first.”

  The bell rang, and we headed for homeroom.

  Devin was standing at the opposite end of the hall, watching us. Alone. When our eyes met, he turned and walked through the doorway.

  Cassie and I were the first ones at lunch. She sat across the table, sipping her Odwalla juice and eyeing me.

  She glanced around to make sure the boys were out of earshot. “That was cute this morning,” she said.

  “What was cute?” I asked, playing absently with the crust of a slice of bread.

  “Almost as cute as me and Dan. Are you trying to compete with us? Because it won’t work. We’ve already won.”

  “Are you talking about Asher?”

  “The very same.” She grinned.

  “Well,” I said, “I hate to break it to you, but you guys don’t stand a chance.”

  “No, but seriously, though,” Cassie said, spearing a sprig of broccoli. “You seem really happy.” She paused. “I’ve never seen you like this. So are you? Happy? Tell me for real. Because it’s about time you were.”

  “I am,” I said, unable to stop myself from smiling stupidly. Everything in my life was converging toward what I wanted. I was on a path, and the trees were bowing to reveal the way to me. “I really think I am.”

  “So . . . have you guys done it yet?”

  “Cassie!”

  “Well, you were staying with the guy in a cabin! In the woods! Cut off from the rest of humanity! Seems like plenty of opportunities might have arisen.”

  “We’re not—” I started to say. “We haven’t—” but stopped. Why hadn’t we come closer? It’s not like I hadn’t wanted to. There were a few times at the cabin when we’d been alone, but I’d still been recovering. And now that Aunt Jo was home every night, we ran the risk of being interrupted—like the other night. “It just hasn’t . . . felt right yet.” I paused.

  But that wasn’t exactly it. The real reason was much more complicated. I was afraid. And not for the obvious reasons. When I was alone with Asher, our lips sparking in the night when they touched, I had so much trouble controlling my powers. He had that effect on me, the singular ability to turn my blood hot and make the room sweltering and cause the hems of my jeans to go up in flames. What if things got really intense and something way worse happened? In the cabin, we put the fire out in time. What if next time I hurt him?

  No, I definitely wasn’t ready yet.

  “Why?” I said suddenly. “Have you and Dan?” Cassie gave me a smug look. “Really?” I gasped.

  “Not yet,” she said, grinning and raising her eyebrows. “Because of, you know, cement leg.” She gestured to the blue cast. “But we’ve come very close. If you know what I mean.”

  “Wow, thank you for painting that mental picture.”

  “Oh, don’t mention it. You’d be surprised, actually—”

  “Okay, Cassie, I have to keep being friends with Dan. I’m drawing a line.”

  “Wuss,” she said. She took a sip of juice and clapped her hands together. “I’m so glad you’re home,” she sang. “I didn’t have anyone to talk to about boys! I can’t exactly talk about Dan to, well, Dan. You know?”

  “Ian said no way, huh?”

  “Before I could even finish the question.” She laughed. “So . . . Devin. That is definitely over, right?”

  “So over,” I said. You have no idea. I glanced up, and she was eyeing me. “Why? What did you hear?”

  “Nothing,” she said, going back to her lunch. “Not a thing.” She crunched a carrot and muttered, just loud enough for me to hear, “Except for that way defensive answer . . .”

  A group of the new transfers from River Springs High walked by our table, and I was pulled out of my thoughts as the air around us seemed to grow colder.

  “Those new kids are so creepy,” Cassie said, shivering dramatically. “I feel like they’re going to kill us in our sleep or something.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Me too.”

  You have no idea, I thought for the second time in that conversation.

  After school I marched to the gym, and into the office of the director of athletics.

  “Skye,” she said, surprised, looking up from some paperwork. “Looking for Coach Samuelson?”

  “I am,” I said. “Is he around?”

  “You’re in luck.” She smiled. “They haven’t left for the slopes yet. He should be in his office.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, turning before she could ask me anything else. I walked into his office as he was stuffing some equipment into a duffel bag.

  “Skye,” he said. “Coming to watch the match?”

  “Actually, I want to rejoin the team,” I announced.

  He paused and eyed me up and down.

  “You miss it?”

  “So much.”

  “You more committed this time?”

  “You bet.” I put my hands on my hips like I knew what I was talking about.

  He puckered his face in thought.

  “Can you come today?” he asked. “Race against Brighton Academy?”

  “Yes!” I cried, jumping up and down. “Thank you!”

  “I’ll just bump Ellie down to third.”

  “What?”

  “Ellie,” he said. “To third.” He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me square in the eye. “You know,” he said. “A little competition is healthy. Fuels the proverbial fire. You could be the team captain next year after Maggie graduates, you know.”

  “I could?” I asked, perplexed.

  “Parker, you’re my star skier! Of course you could. But you were gone, and you have some catching up to do. Ellie’s really proven herself to have the grit I need in a team captain.” He looked at me like he was looking straight into my soul. “Do you have that grit, Skye? Can I count on you?”

  I swallowed. “Yes,” I said, much more confidently than I suddenly felt.

  He patted me on the shoulder. “Good,” he said. “Then prove it. Beat Ellie’s time today. Then we’ll talk.”

  Great, I thought, as he slung the duffel bag over his shoulder and walked out of the office. Like Ellie needs another reason to hate me.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I followed.

  The top of the mountain was cold and white. The clouds moved slowly, changing shapes, as if winking at me knowingly. We know what you can do, Skye.

  Good, I thought. Let me show you.

  I was racing against Claire Fincher, arguably the best skier on the Brighton te
am. I’d faced her before, last year. She was famous for being competitive and fierce, and the last time we’d raced against each other, she’d knocked into me, drawing blood. She was terrifying.

  Coach Samuelson came up behind me and put his hand on my back. “You can do this, Parker,” he said.

  I let his words sink into my gut as I pulled my goggles down over my eyes. I could do this. Claire was fierce, but I had power. And I wasn’t just trying to beat her—or even Ellie’s time two spots after me. I had a purpose. The thought of finally controlling my powers sent a rush through me so heady that for a moment I saw stars.

  At the signal, we both pushed off. The wind wrapped itself around me, and soon I was flying down the mountain. I could feel every bump, every slight turn in the course. I was moving so fast that I saw nothing but whiteness. I felt nothing but joy.

  I crouched lower as I took a sharp bend, the wind smacking me hard in the face. I spat back at it—and then, as if by magic, it seemed to retreat. Not magic, I thought. I’m doing this. The clouds swooped in, surrounding me and then whipping away behind me—covering my trail. I could hear the swish of Claire’s skis, keeping pace, and I glanced back to see if she was okay.

  “Skye!” her voice rang out. “The weather changed! Can you see?”

  “I’m fine!” I called. “Are you?”

  “I think so!”

  I trained my eyes on the clouds and dispersed them, letting the feel of the ground beneath my skis guide me the rest of the way down the mountain. I wanted control, but I didn’t want to win by blocking her way. My goal was to beat her, fair and square.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Claire pull up alongside me. I crouched lower, leaning into the wind.

  Focus your energy.

  Find the switch.

  Flip it.

  I pulled ahead, pummeling toward the finish line.

  Everything was within my grasp. The power rushed through me, and I no longer felt like I was skiing down the mountain. I felt like I was a part of it. I pushed myself forward, slicing across the finish line and swishing to a hard stop. I stared back up at the mountain, breathing hard, alive. I knew that I was right—this was what I needed.