Page 127 of Cage of Starlight
Tory’s face flits through several expressions—something open and painful: hope, maybe; confusion; determined stillness. It settles on a sharp-edged thing. Not anger, but nothing Sena can put a name to. “I can’t—” Tory shakes his head, walks straight at Sena. He’s trembling, and an apology sits on Sena’s lips, unspoken.
Sena tears himself from his paralysis and snags Tory’s arm, holding as tight as his hands will allow. “Please.”
Tory flinches and scrubs his free hand over his face. “You’realive. I—shit, are you—Sena.I . . . I don’t have time for this now.”
Sena doesn’t have time for anything except this. “I need you to listen. I’m not sure how long I have before they—” he peers through the open door into the sterile, too-bright hallway. No clamor of running footsteps yet, but it’s only a matter of time. He steps forward to let the door slip closed behind him. “Someone saw me coming in.”
Tory pins him with that angry-adjacent look, terrible up close. “Why did you come back? I thought . . .”
Sena shifts his gaze over to the tree, serene in diffuse gray daylight. He blurts, “Riese lied to you.” Probably not the best place to start, but his limbs are too heavy, and he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to stand. He explains the rest haltingly. Riese’s power, Iri’s survival. Riese’s plan. If he talks long enough, he won’t have to get to the hardest part.
“Why’d you leave?” Tory asks.
Again, he skims the ugliest truth: he won’t be able to stay this time, either. “I didn’t want to. My energies made you immune to Riese’s influence. Travin came into my tent after Riese took you away. He tried to kill me. Would have succeeded, but—I managed to get a hold of his arm and—” Sickness churns in his stomach. Tory may not even believe him. “I—”
Tory doesn’t need him to finish, apparently. “Hishand. Shit, I should’ve known those weren’t bruises. Thatbastard!I hope it rots off slow.”
Relief spreads through Sena, warm like the cloak Tory let him borrow.
Tory continues his tirade. “He was all buddy-buddy with me when he brought me here, too, after—after . . . What about Dr. Helner?”
“I met her on my way out.” Which reminds him— “She stabbed me a little. I got blood on your cloak. I’ll fix it.”
“Whoa, back up. Shestabbed you?Alittle?”
“Just a scalpel. I doubt it was her choice. My best guess is Riese put both her and Travin up to it.”
Tory curses and stomps in a circle, and Sena can’t help the smile that tips his lips up, the warmth of having someone on his side.
“Sorry,” he volunteers. Surely there are better, more precise words for conversations like these, but he’s never had a chance to practice them.
It is, Sena discovers, the worst thing he could have said. Color flees Tory’s face. “No,” he says, and Sena scrambles to understand how he messed up.
“No,” Tory says again, rough and low. “I’msorry. When I found you gone, I—”
The worry clears, and Sena breathes. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not! Damn it, Sena, it’s okay to be pissed at me.”
“I know. But I’m not, and we are—again—on a timeline.”
Tory frowns. “Fine, okay. Later, then.”
Did Tory just schedule a time for Sena to be angry with him? Happiness is a fragile flutter in Sena’s chest. “Later,” he lies.
“Wait, you gotstabbed. We need to fix it.” Tory looks around, like maybe a medical kit will be lying on the ground.
“No need. Someone wrapped it for me. We should get to work.”
As if he’s just remembering, Tory says, “The Monitor Room! Was that part true? If it’s destroyed—”
Sena’s stomach sinks. “That part’s true.”
“I meant to—Sena! If we destroy the compasses, they won’t be able to disable your Core! It’s not—It’s not the perfect solution, but it could work, right?” Thatsmile,like an epiphany or a promise, childlike in its uncomplicated joy. “Everyone here, free. Your dad’s war effort derailed. And both of us . . .”
Sena wants Tory’s words to be true with a fierceness that brings physical pain. He can havethis, anyway, for a little longer. He dredges up a smile. “We should get to it, then, huh?”
“Yeah. Let’s mess some shit up.”
