Page 30 of The Surviving Sky
Something snatched her from midair. Her vision jerked horribly, then steadied. She was rising again, vines encircling her. Far away, Oam was rising too.
Ahilya craned her neck. High above, Iravan had stopped moving toward Nakshar. He shone like a miniature blue-green sun, but his own vortex was barely a raggedy vine. Furious beams shot out of his armor. She could see his face now, and she knew. The trajection was too much; he couldn’t keep it all up. His armor split, cracking. He was directing all his ropes to Ahilya and Oam. He was sacrificing his safety for theirs.No, she thought in horror.What are you doing? Save yourself. Save Oam.
More bark peeled off him, shefelthis desperation, his exhaustion, even as she arose. Debris punched at him, slapping his face, and he spun for a moment, losing balance. The straggly vine connecting him to the jungle tore.
Iravan flung an arm, a frantic gesture, and something surrounded Ahilya like a tentacle. In a whirlpool of wind, she was sucked toward the city at a dizzying speed. The last vine connecting her to Iravan snapped.
Then shocking pain smashed into her, vibrating through her feet, her knees, jarring her teeth. Air squeezed out of her. She was being chewed up, the magnaroot armor peeling off her, taking rips of clothing and skin with it.
Ahilya broke through Nakshar and slammed into something hard.
For a moment, she lay there, her ears roaring, spots in her vision. Her breath came out in heavy gasps. She rolled on her side and emptied her stomach. Her body was a mass of blood, a million cuts and scrapes, but there was no sign of the magnaroot. The city’s bark had scraped it all off. Nakshar had let her in but not the jungle.
She staggered to her knees. Already the solid ground was growing soft grass. The walls became a tapestry of curling leaves.
A moment later, Iravan slammed through the foliage, sliding on the grass next to her. Ahilya sobbed in relief, scrambling over to clutch at him. He didn’t move. His skin was dark again, no longer trajecting. Bruises and bloody scrapes covered his face and body. His breathing was shallow. She waited, one, two, three seconds but the wall didn’t move anymore.
Ahilya released Iravan and staggered to her feet, her heart beating frantically. They were in a corridor, and it was empty save the two of them.
There was no sign of Oam.
10
AHILYA
She surged to the leafy wall, pounding it with her fists. “Open, rage you!” she screamed.
In response, thorns emerged out of the leaves. The thorns were too soft; they didn’t hurt her, but they were a warning. The wall would not open.
She banged at it again in frustration. Why wouldn’t it respond? She was in Nakshar; the plants ought to obey her now without the need for trajection. Was the city still on flight protocol?
“Open, rage you to death,” she screamed, tearing at the leaves with bloody fingers. But the wall just grew back, denser than before. Why didn’tit—
She was trying to go outside Nakshar. She wouldn’t be able to, not without a maze key like the one Naila had, or aSenior—
Ahilya spun on her feet to where Iravan lay slumped on the floor. Grass had grown around him, cushioning him. Healbranch vines circled his chest, reacting to his deepest desire: rest. The pale white vines grew all around the city, boosting immunity and elevating strength. Ahilya hastened to him and dropped to her knees.
The scent of eucalyptus and firemint came to her. Iravan’sscents—plantsthat healed him, specific to his body. Nakshar had already begun curing him, but he didn’t move. Ahilya choked, clutching his hand. “Please be all right,” she wept. “Please, Iravan, please be all right.”
His eyelids fluttered open, “A-lya,” he breathed.“You…safe.”
“I’m safe,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face.
He exhaled and collapsed deeper into his cushion of grass.
“But Oam,” she said, her voice trembling. “Oam is still outside.”
He moaned, a soft sound.
“Please,” she whispered, sobbing. “He’s just a child, Iravan. A foolish boy.”
Iravan’s eyes flickered underneath closed lids. His veins pulsed under her fingers, a brief spasm of blue-green, in and out, blue-green then dark, over and over again like he was malfunctioning.
Ahilya’s vision blurred. “I’m so sorry, Iravan,” she wept. “I’m so sorry. Please, I had a duty of care.”
“No,” he mumbled, his voice soft. “Idid.”
He tried to straighten, and she put her arms around his shoulders, but he felt like deadweight. Iravan gritted his teeth, eyes still closed, his breath coming out in shudders. His tattoos sputtered again. Sweaty hair lay limp on his forehead. Ahilya gazed at the wall outside, hoping.
