Read Online The Defiance (Brilliant Darkness) by A.G. Henley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: A.G. Henley
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sinks into my stomach. Why didn't I think of this before? Even if our mysterious Lofty girl-guide can get us out of the trees, how will Eland reach the caves safely?
He pushes me back against some kind of structure, interrupting my thoughts. He doesn't have to tell me to be quiet.
"You shouldn't be out here," our guide says. "Your sister will worry."
"I was tired of being inside." The other voice belongs to a boy. He sounds younger than Eland, but maybe only by a few years. My stomach churns when I hear his next words. "Who're they?"
My brother steps forward. "It's me, Thrush. Eland. I met you yesterday."
"What're you doing, Eland?" Thrush asks.
"We're on our way home."
"What are you doing up here, I mean?"
"Visiting."
"Did you start the fire?"
I cringe.
"Of course not," Eland says, sounding admirably relaxed. "We would never do something like that. But if anyone knows we were up here, they may think we did. Hey, remember I didn't tell Petrel about how you accidentally dropped your quiver off the platform? Do me a favor and don't tell anyone about seeing us in the trees. Deal?"
"I got it back," Thrush says. "I snuck out last night and climbed down to the branch it was hanging on."
"Nice work," Eland says, which makes me smile. He picked up that expression from Peree. "How about if I make some new arrows for it?"
"Groundling arrows don't fly straight. Everyone says so."
"Peree's been helping me make mine. His arrows are good, right?"
"Yeah . . . his are."
"So what do you say? I kept your secret. Keep mine? That's what friends do."
"Okay," the boy says reluctantly.
"You better get home before Moon makes you scrape the bird poop off your shelter again," Eland says. And I thought Aloe was hard on Eland sometimes.
"Don't forget about my arrows," Thrush says. We listen to him run off down the walkway.
"He won't keep his mouth shut," the Lofty girl says darkly. "Not that one. It isn't possible."
"It was all I could think of," Eland whispers defensively.
"You did great," I say. "And if he tells anyone, hopefully it will be Moon or Petrel. They won't give us away." I think .
"Let's keep moving," the girl says. "We're almost there."
We start walking again.
"What about you?" I ask her. "What if he says he saw you with us?"
"Let's hope he doesn't." Her words are clipped. It makes me worry a little about Thrush's safety.
"What will you do?" I ask warily.
"I'm not going to hurt an eight-year-old boy, if that's what you're thinking." She scoffs. "If I was capable of that, I would've let them get rid of you and your brother here."
"Why did you help us? What's the message you want us to give to Moray?"
She doesn't answer for a minute. She must have stopped walking, because Eland tugs me to a halt, too.
"It's okay," he says, his voice gentle. "Whatever it is. You can tell us."
I don't know what he's seeing that made him say that, but his words seem to have an impact.
She draws a shaky breath. "Tell Moray . . . that he's going to be a father."
My mouth drops open. "A father? You . . . you're expecting his—? How? When?"
"It's none of your business," the girl says, her voice abruptly turning fierce. "I'm only telling you because I have no other way to reach him. Especially now, after the fires. And I think he'll want to know."
"You sure about that?" Eland mutters.
"What do you mean?" the girl says.
I elbow him in the ribs. "It's only that Moray and his family . . . they aren't fond of Lofties."
"Well he seemed fond of me."
I'll bet. As obnoxious as Moray is, he can also be charming when he wants to be. That is, when he wants something.
"What would you like us to tell him?" I ask.
Whatever it is, I'm sure he won't respond the way she wants him to. I'm not sure anything matters much to Moray—except for Moray, of course.
"That I need to see him. We need to talk. Tell him I'll try to collect the water again as soon as the fleshies leave. Tell him to come to the water hole at the usual time."
Wow,
He pushes me back against some kind of structure, interrupting my thoughts. He doesn't have to tell me to be quiet.
"You shouldn't be out here," our guide says. "Your sister will worry."
"I was tired of being inside." The other voice belongs to a boy. He sounds younger than Eland, but maybe only by a few years. My stomach churns when I hear his next words. "Who're they?"
My brother steps forward. "It's me, Thrush. Eland. I met you yesterday."
"What're you doing, Eland?" Thrush asks.
"We're on our way home."
"What are you doing up here, I mean?"
"Visiting."
"Did you start the fire?"
I cringe.
"Of course not," Eland says, sounding admirably relaxed. "We would never do something like that. But if anyone knows we were up here, they may think we did. Hey, remember I didn't tell Petrel about how you accidentally dropped your quiver off the platform? Do me a favor and don't tell anyone about seeing us in the trees. Deal?"
"I got it back," Thrush says. "I snuck out last night and climbed down to the branch it was hanging on."
"Nice work," Eland says, which makes me smile. He picked up that expression from Peree. "How about if I make some new arrows for it?"
"Groundling arrows don't fly straight. Everyone says so."
"Peree's been helping me make mine. His arrows are good, right?"
"Yeah . . . his are."
"So what do you say? I kept your secret. Keep mine? That's what friends do."
"Okay," the boy says reluctantly.
"You better get home before Moon makes you scrape the bird poop off your shelter again," Eland says. And I thought Aloe was hard on Eland sometimes.
"Don't forget about my arrows," Thrush says. We listen to him run off down the walkway.
"He won't keep his mouth shut," the Lofty girl says darkly. "Not that one. It isn't possible."
"It was all I could think of," Eland whispers defensively.
"You did great," I say. "And if he tells anyone, hopefully it will be Moon or Petrel. They won't give us away." I think .
"Let's keep moving," the girl says. "We're almost there."
We start walking again.
"What about you?" I ask her. "What if he says he saw you with us?"
"Let's hope he doesn't." Her words are clipped. It makes me worry a little about Thrush's safety.
"What will you do?" I ask warily.
"I'm not going to hurt an eight-year-old boy, if that's what you're thinking." She scoffs. "If I was capable of that, I would've let them get rid of you and your brother here."
"Why did you help us? What's the message you want us to give to Moray?"
She doesn't answer for a minute. She must have stopped walking, because Eland tugs me to a halt, too.
"It's okay," he says, his voice gentle. "Whatever it is. You can tell us."
I don't know what he's seeing that made him say that, but his words seem to have an impact.
She draws a shaky breath. "Tell Moray . . . that he's going to be a father."
My mouth drops open. "A father? You . . . you're expecting his—? How? When?"
"It's none of your business," the girl says, her voice abruptly turning fierce. "I'm only telling you because I have no other way to reach him. Especially now, after the fires. And I think he'll want to know."
"You sure about that?" Eland mutters.
"What do you mean?" the girl says.
I elbow him in the ribs. "It's only that Moray and his family . . . they aren't fond of Lofties."
"Well he seemed fond of me."
I'll bet. As obnoxious as Moray is, he can also be charming when he wants to be. That is, when he wants something.
"What would you like us to tell him?" I ask.
Whatever it is, I'm sure he won't respond the way she wants him to. I'm not sure anything matters much to Moray—except for Moray, of course.
"That I need to see him. We need to talk. Tell him I'll try to collect the water again as soon as the fleshies leave. Tell him to come to the water hole at the usual time."
Wow,
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