Page 25 of Wings of Ebony
Up ahead, the lengthy corridor opens up. I run until a familiar voice jerks me to a halt.
“Rue?” A deep line is nestled between Bri’s brows, her blond braid dangling. “I was so worried. So I decided to come down here and wait. Are you—”
Apparently my face says more than my words can. She grips my shoulders and pulls me into a hug, squeezing tight. Bri is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. She’d never last a day where I’m from, but she has a heart of gold.
“Where will you go?”
“The Chancellor plans tokillwhoever I touched.” I don’t say my sister’s name because even muttering those words makes my hair stand tall. Bri knows. She knows all of it. She gasps, barring her mouth shut.
“I can’t let him hurt her.”
“Your watch.”
“I have it. Luke.”
She pulls me to her, crashing against my chest. Tears slip betweenher lashes. This isn’t how I imagined saying goodbye either. For just a moment, I rest my chin on her shoulder—the shoulder of the only friend I’ve made in this lonely place. I want to say so many things.See ya laterdoesn’t do it justice.
Other kids were straight up rude when I showed up, talking down to me when they’d explain spells, assuming I’m stupid and shit. Because just like back home, people think different means less. Less capable. Less competent.
“That girl gon’ over-enunciate one more damn time, and I’ma pop her ass in the mouth,” I had said under my breath during a spell-casting class.
Bri had laughed. “I’ll put a sticky spell on her feet so you can get away.” That’s when I knew we’d be inseparable.
“She’s not a native?” one bouje girl had asked the teacher,literallyin front of my face! “How do we know she’s not lying about who she is, where she’s from?”
Because here, like back home, different also means untrustworthy.
Some days it was easier to shrug off, other days I wanted to claw my eyeballs out. When it gets like that, though, Bri’s always there to distract me from wallowing, pull me into studying, or just make me laugh.
And that makes her as good as family.
I want to tell her all she means to me, but the words are jumbled when I try to speak. I squeeze her back and break the hug, hoping she can feel all my love, all my thanks for making this place semi-tolerable.
“Get outside,” she sniffles. “The coordinates are still in there. Don’t waste a second.”
I tap my wrist and the screen glows blue.
Her voice cracks. “When you’re ready, press and hold the button down for—”
“Three seconds, I remember,” I say. “This isn’t goodbye forever. I promise.”
She nods, tears streaked across her lips. “Be careful, Rue.”
After one last firm hand squeeze, I jet off, scanning for a redEXITsign and keep running down the hall. North, just head north. I know the doors to this building face north. I round another corner andfinallyspot them.
Cool air whips around me when I burst through and my stomach plummets at the 400-something-foot drop below. I lift my sleeves, finger hovering over my watch, when a door clicks behind me. Aasim stands in the doorway, wind wrestling his garb.
For a second I want to go to him.Stupid.What am I thinking? The feeling confuses me. Angers me. He says nothing, just stares.
He’s letting me go.
“Not going to say goodbye?” he asks, breaking the silence.
I study my feet, guilt wedging a hole in my resolve. I don’t owe him a goodbye. I don’t owe him or anyone a damned thing. Armed guards burst through the door at his back, weapons raised. Aasim raises a hand and they halt.
“But, sir, the Chancellor said—”
“I don’t care what the Chancellor said, stand down!” His words crack like a whip and the guards retreat inside. That was nice of him. More than nice. Fatherly.
