Kira’s eyes widened slightly, but to her credit, she didn’t dismiss the idea outright. She’d seen too much of the System’s cruelty to rule out any possibility, no matter how dark.
"You think they’re planning to... what? Abandon so of us outside the barrier?" she whispered.
"I don’t know." I admitted, keeping my voice low. "But they’ve been selective from the start. They know sothing we don’t." I nodded subtly toward the second canteen on Darien’s hip. "Whatever waits for us at the edge of Argent... I don’t think it’s a warm welco."
Before she could answer, Mira approached, her expression neutral but her eyes alert. "Everything ready?" she asked, gesturing toward our glider.
Kira shot a final look and nodded to Mira. "As ready as we can be."
We followed her to where Petra was adding the finishing touches on our new aerial friend. The glider looked fragile, a wooden X fra with fabric stretched across its expanse, creating a wing like surface that seed far too insubstantial to carry two human lives.
"This will hold us?" I asked, unable to keep the skepticism from my voice.
"It will if you don’t panic and flail around." Mira replied coldly. "The structure isn’t the concern, it’s the pilot." She demonstrated how we should position ourselves, hanging from the central bar, bodies straight, movents minimal. "Any unnecessary shifting could send you into a spin."
As she walked away to check on the next team, Kira leaned close to . She whispered. "When we land, don’t let them separate us."
I nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude for her presence. In the orphanage, I’d kept my distance from everyone, convinced that connections were liabilities. Out here, I was beginning to understand they might be our only real chance at survival.
The final preparations moved quickly. Silas grew additional wooden planks for the gliders that needed reinforcent. Petra sealed every joint with her touch. Phinyx moved from team to team, offering what he called "balancing vibes" for our ntal state. Rolen stood at the edge of the rooftop probably thinking how he never got to say goodbye to the Bloops.
Darien’s voice cut through the silence. "Positions! Grab your gliders and start climbing the staircase. Move!"
We scrambled to our assigned fras, each glider an unwieldy burden of wood and patchwork fabric. The tower rose before us, a skeletal finger of silver tal reaching forty feet into the sickly green sky. A narrow, open staircase wound its way around the exterior, the grated steps groaning under our combined weight as we began to climb.
The ascent was slow and risky. The gliders caught every gust of wind, threatening to pull us off balance. We hugged the inner rail, shuffling upward step by step. Below, the ground receded, and the vast, broken expanse of the wasteland opened up around us. In the far distance, a sliver of green hue could be seen. It was Argent’s barrier.
"Final check." Darien called, moving down the line. He inspected each glider with thodical precision, testing Petra’s bonds, checking the balance of the fras. When he reached our position, his eyes t mine briefly, and I saw sothing there I couldn’t quite na, not quite hostility, not quite concern, but sothing in between.
"Rember." he said, his voice carrying to all of us, "The mont we land, run for the barrier. Don’t stop for anything or anyone."
"We’re strapped to flying sticks about to jump off a tower." I replied, unable to resist the urge to puncture his authority. "I don’t think any of us were planning scenic detours."
A flicker of irritation crossed his face before he moved on. Kira gave my arm a gentle squeeze that conveyed both agreent and caution.
One by one, we secured ourselves to our gliders. The harnesses were crudely made with the vine we had used to reach the ceiling. They were designed to distribute our weight evenly across the fra. Kira and I would hang side by side, our bodies forming the counterweight to the wing above us.
As Petra helped us into our harness, I leaned close to Kira. I made sure no one was watching. Then my hand brushed against the canteen strapped to her hip. And again, I felt hissing inside my head.
Switch.
The familiar, battered canteen at Kira’s hip and the slightly fuller, sturdier one I’d seen clipped to Darien’s pack a mont ago traded places in a silent, instantaneous snap.
Kira’s hand flew to her hip, her fingers tracing the different texture of the new found canteen. She shot a questioning look.
"Preventive asure." I muttered, avoiding her eyes as I checked my own straps. "Just in case."
Her gaze lingered on for a mont, but she only nodded, her grip tightening on the wooden bar. "Hope he doesn’t find out." she whispered, her voice barely audible over the wind.
Across the line, I watched Darien strap himself and Finn into their glider. The Navigator looked pale but determined, his eyes fixed on the distant shimr of Argent as if he could make us appear there through sheer concentration.
Gale took his position at the front of the line, alone on his glider, the least encumbered and most maneuverable of us all. He would lead, creating the air currents we would ride like invisible rails toward safety.
"On my count." Darien called. "Three... two..."
I tightened my grip on the wooden bar above , feeling Kira do the sa beside . The ground below seed impossibly far away, the wasteland stretched out in all its broken, hostile glory. And beyond it, Argent, gleaming like a silver promise.
"...one!"
Gale inhaled deeply, his chest expanding as he took in more air than what seed humanly possible. Then we were moving, running toward the edge of the tower, our legs pumping in unison as we built speed. The first team launched, then the second, wooden fras catching the wind as they dropped from sight.
Then it was our turn. One step. Two. Three. The edge rushed toward us, and then...
Nothing beneath our feet but air and possibility.
Reviews
All reviews (0)