Page 164 of Blue Arrow Island
I reach for him with the same mental pathway I have with vines, calling out to him for help. He’s getting smaller as the birds fly higher. I thrash, smacking at the birds.
My vines are on the ground, writhing and winding into towers in an effort to reach me. There’s a loud humming in my head that I somehow know is them, frantic to reach me.
The tallest vine tower reaches almost twenty feet into the air before it collapses, unable to get any higher. I feel the terror of the plants, their raw fear for me pouring through my body.
Marcus’s wolf pack races across the clearing, their bodies low to the ground and streamlined. They’re practically flying, their shoulders and back muscles rippling with each stride they take.
We’re so high in the air now that I’ve stopped fighting back, because if the birds drop me, the impact with the ground will kill me instantly. Pure terror races through my veins as the people and wolves on the ground get smaller and smaller.
When the wolves reach the spot beneath me, they snarl and jump, trying to reach the birds even though they can’t.
Blood drips from my ankle, the red drops descending from the sky like rain. Marcus calls for me again, my name a primal cry that tears from his chest.
The branches on the palm trees below start quaking. The wolves tear off toward the woods. The ground is shaking now, trees and bushes vibrating. The air is charged with something warm and still.
Something bright and orange in the air steals my attention. A new fear races through me when I realize what it is. Giant globs of molten rock and ash are shooting out of the top of the volcano. It’s the start of an eruption. Lava could quickly destroy this entire island, eradicating everything aromium has touched here, along with everything else.
Niran is standing in front of Marcus, his hands on Marcus’s shoulders. He’s saying something to him. Marcus’s broad shoulders heave with exertion, his face turned to the ground.
As quickly as it started, the ash and magma stop erupting into the sky. Nothing but steam is there now, the palm trees on the ground still.
I stop breathing. It was Marcus. He made the volcano do that. Niran calmed him into stopping it. Realization washesthrough me. I remember what he said about not deserving me, about being a terrible person. What has he done with the powers aromium has given him that I don’t know about? Whatever it is, he wears the guilt of it like a lead vest.
Virginia and Pax are gone. They seem to have escaped when Marcus, Niran and Amira were distracted.
My canvas bag of flowers isn’t more than a dot on the ground now. It fell from my shoulder when the ravens grabbed me. At least Virginia won’t know we found the flowers and were bringing them back.
Hopefully. What if they’ve been following us this whole time and we led them right to the flowers? They could destroy all of the remaining ones.
The raven with my leg in its talons clamps down and I yelp, pain searing all the way to my bones. It’s my only distraction from the terror of what’s happening to me. My life depends on these two birds, who may be carrying me out to sea and dropping me. Or dropping me a quarter of a mile to the ground to the Rising Tide camp, where my body could be dinner tonight.
I close my eyes, fighting a powerful wave of nausea. At least my aromium is on. It’s not much, but it’s an advantage.
Virginia might put me back in that deep hole, where I was helpless. She could let me die there slowly. Or she could kill me in front of everyone.
When the Rising Tide camp comes into view below, I swallow against the bile in my throat. I see the skulls and bones outlining the circle, and the roofs of the camp’s buildings. The birds start to descend, the camp getting closer.
Nothing good is waiting for me down there. I steel myself, knowing I may have to start fighting for my life as soon as I reach the ground.
47
President Whitman,
I’m pleased to report the birth of the first baby born to aromium-enhanced parents. The girl weighs nine pounds, three ounces and is healthy in all measurable aspects. At just three days old, she already shows neck control and motor skills that measure in the nine-month range for human infants.
Peace, Order and Prosperity,
Dr. Randall McClain
“No one’s here to save you this time.”
Virginia’s icy tone sends a tremor from the tip of my spine to the base, my breathing the only thing I’m completely in control of right now.
Emaciated Tiders in numbered bracelets are gathered on both sides of the main pathway through the camp. Rona is there, her expression calculating as she watches us.
“You’ve been lied to!” I look from one side of the path to the other. “Look at me. I’m not starving. We have?—”
“Shut up.” Virginia walks closer to me, her fingers wrapped around a spear with a tip that looks razor sharp.
