Renegade: A Young Adult Dystopian Read online

  He shook his head. “No.”

  She curled her thin fingers into his collarbone, growling, “It’s time you accept the darkness in you. Stop. Fighting. Us.” And with that, she pushed him back, surprisingly strong. Stumbling back, he fell into the roaring endless fire, the flames crackling hungrily. He couldn’t tell where the fire began and ended within him, as the bronze hues faded into inky black.

  “Adair!” The black flames, turning his heart to ash. “Mate, come on!” The flashes of a world remade. The fear. But also, the greatness. It was all him. “Do not die on me! Stratton!” And him, sitting on a throne of bones. The slap across his face was hard and unrelenting. Dots danced in his vision as Adair took in a huge inhale, his lungs searing. “Oh, thank the Black Sea.” Marquis sat down hard on the ground, shaking his head. His freckles stood out like their own constellations against his death pale skin.

  Blinking, the treetops and the clear afternoon sky came into focus, and Adair realized he was on his back, his limbs splayed around him. His tongue was swollen, dried blood along his lips and underneath his nose. His whole body felt like it had been chewed and patchily put back together. He lay there stunned, unable to piece his reality and what had happened fluently together. A few minutes passed before he could manage to sit up, rasping, “What happened?”

  Marquis choked out a laugh. “Oh, what happened? You mean you saying something was wrong and then freezing, convulsing in a fit the next second, screaming? I tried to help you, but I couldn’t and your eyes...”

  “My eyes, what?” His voice rasped out, sounding unfamiliar and worn.

  Marquis shook his head, and when he looked at Adair, his eyes were wide and full of fear. “They were pitch-black. Any trace of you was gone.”

  Goosebumps rose on his arms, and he couldn’t think of anything to say to the prince. He barely understood it himself. His legs were shaky, but he stood slowly, dusting off his pants. Chills raked through him, and he donned his jacket, popping the collar. He couldn’t meet Marquis’s searching gaze as he started walking.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” In two strides, the prince crossed the empty space between them, grabbing his shoulder, turning him to face him. “You have to tell me what is going on.”

  He pulled back. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

  Hurt flashed across his face, and he threw his hands out to his sides. “Why?”

  Adair snapped. Snarling, he pushed his finger hard against Marquis’s chest. “Because you are no different than them. You’re only here to find out what you need. Not because you want to be.” Adrenaline coursed through him, his anger stifling.

  “Adair, calm down.”

  With shaking hands, he started walking again, a thousand unsaid things hanging between them. Marquis followed him at a distance, his features darkening with every step. He didn’t look back again.

  When they made it back to the Academy, the sun had started to dip into the horizon, the tinges of dusk painting the sky in a brilliant array of colors. He paused for a moment, taking in the Academy, the courtyard, the hive of a school that had been his home. Marquis brushed past him, shooting him a raised eyebrow before making his way back. He sighed, knowing he should have explained more of what had happened, of how he was feeling.

  A tightness constricted through his chest, and he took a step forward the words forming on his tongue, wanting to call the prince back, before that clear voice rang out to him.

  “Adair!” Emory threw herself from the rock ledge that was their spot, flying down the hill toward him. She barely glanced at Marquis as she ran by. Her ebony hair was unbound, and she wore a long black jacket and loose pants. Her tied up boots smacked against the ground hard, and she was breathless as she came to the forest’s edge. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” Tinges of pink blossomed across her cheekbones as she searched his face, her mouth frowning delicately at his wounds and dried blood.

  Closing his mouth, he looked at Emory. Usually his pulse would race being this close, the endless possibilities of them dancing on his imagination. Brushing by her, he started the climb back to his room, and some much needed sleep.

  “Hey, Adair!” She grabbed his hand, pulling him back to face her. Worry crinkled lines at the edge of her eyes as she croaked, “Where have you been?” Shrugging out of her grip, he buried his hands deep in his jacket pockets. His mouth felt dry, and he looked at her, truly looked at her, and he couldn’t muster any words. The silence dragged between them, becoming more uncomfortable with every second. “Adair, say something.”

  “I have to go.” The words escaped him clipped and dry, and turning his back he could practically feel her bouncing after him.

  “Adair, talk to me.”

  Spinning around, he snarled, “About what, Emory? What do you want to talk to the traitor’s son about? How your future is brimming with promise and mine... mine is... ” he sputtered, feeling heat rush up through him.

  Hurt flashed across her face as she spat, “I can’t choose my family any more than you can! I have been worried about you! You haven’t stopped for a second to think that I have possibly come to explain myself? To apologize? That I haven’t been waiting for hours?”

  He ran a bloodied hand through his hair, his heart pounding viciously against his chest. “No. You were perfectly clear before.”

  With narrowed eyes, she jabbed a finger at his chest. “You listen to me, Adair Stratton. I am sorry for what my dad told me, but I can’t control what is happening in this world! We are surrounded by things that don’t make sense, surrounded by secrets and lies and darkness and now a potential war! But after you left, I talked to my dad, and I will not go through this without you beside me. He is reconsidering.” She beamed.

  His nails bit into his palms, hidden from her view, and he snarled. “No.”

  “What do you mean, no?”

  He stepped closer. “I mean, stay away from me. I want nothing to do with you or your family. I don’t need your charity. I don’t need your friendship. I. Don’t. Need. You.” He had contorted, losing himself in the churning anger inside him.

  She paled with every word, her eyes brimming as she fiercely snarled. “You don’t mean that! You’re my best friend.”

  He cut the last strand of himself lose as he smiled coldly. “Yes, you will find that I do mean it. Leave me alone. You’re better friends with those two mixed halfwits.”

  Her mouth hung open and Adair gnashed his teeth before turning away. What had he done? The insult cut deep. Mixed was a term from Roque’s father’s reign. People who were not of a superior birthright and had “tainted” abilities. People like Memphis, whose parents were desolates. People like Brokk, who had no idea about his past. Even people like Emory, whose ability was an anomaly considering her parents. Trudging back up toward the Academy, in the dying sunlight, he knew there was no taking what he had said back. He glanced back once, Emory still frozen at the bottom of the hill, tears streaming down her cheeks. Coldness swept through him as he wrenched his gaze forward, his bitterness filling him. She had chosen her life. It was time he chose his own. What scared him most was that he believed she should have chosen him. All those years of shared secrets, of stifled laughter, of whispers of their dreams, of their fears. Whisked away with the promise of a crown. He swallowed hard, the tightness in his throat searing. It was time. The Academy was no longer his home, and he intended to show the world its secrets.

  The edges of his vision were tinged red. Adair was frozen, staring at his door with wide eyes. Time seemed to collapse on itself, his hands shaking violently at the deep red slash across his bedroom door and the insults cut into the wood. Traitor. He stepped closer; the red paint looked like blood in the dimness of the quiet hallway. Follow your father to his death. His bruised hands brushed the knife marks, his tears quietly trickling down his face. Monster. A strangled noise slipped from him, and he looked around wondering which classmates had done this. How long they had thought this. Just waiting for the opportu
nity where no one would do anything about it. When hate would override humanity. Get out.

  It was amazing the power that words held. Wielded within yourself, by other people, it didn’t matter—when you started to believe them, the poison spread. Grabbing the door knob, he took a deep breath, twisting it a little too hard. Then everything was chaos. Sharp sirens rang through the intercom, and dull flashing light coursed down the hallway. Doors slammed open, like a beating drum, as students poured out, their confusion clear. Over a decade of familiar faces, staring at him cruelly as they passed, their snide smirks and cutting judgments making his ability course through him like a shield, tempting to crash through every single mind. Just for a second, they could feel how he felt.

  “Out of my way! Now!” Roque barreled down the hallway, pure panic etched across his face. Practically pushing students out of the way, Emory chased at his heels, shooting him a glance as she passed him. He didn’t think, his feet carried him after them, fear making everything vivid, and growling, he ran, dreading the worst. At the end of the hallway, the doors exploded open. Nei stood in the last of the daylight with dried blood stains over her fighting gear, Memphis, Brokk, and Alby supporting themselves beside her. In the distance, a bloodthirsty howl echoed. Roque ran to his wife, not caring there was an audience as he grasped her face in between his hands. “What happened? Nei!”

  “Sarthaven has fallen.” It was a choked whisper, but it sent ripples throughout the students and remaining teachers.

  He stopped, making himself flush against the hallway as he watched Emory collide into Memphis, hugging him tightly, and then Brokk.

  Roque paled. “Cesan?”

  Nei nodded, her voice growing stronger. “And Bresslin. Our company was lead into a trap. I was the only one to survive. The city itself, Roque... is overrun by dark creatures that he is controlling. They are killing desolates and anyone who defies them.” Silence rang out. Her hands shook as her voice cracked. “We were followed.” Roque snapped his attention past her, to the towering forest bathed in golden light. Another howl sliced through the air.

  “Where’s my dad?” Marquis pushed through the throng, his emerald hair standing on end as he stared at Nei, his voice cracking. “Where’s Tadeas?” Their heads bowed, not meeting the prince’s gaze, and he shook his head growling. “No. no.” There was a clambering of hooves in the distance, and Marquis snapped his head up, pushing past them. He followed him, as if in a trance, coming to the entranceway. On the horizon, a horse galloped toward them, frothing at the bit. Tadeas clung onto the reins, his pale green hair unbound. Behind them, a creature born from darkness followed them. Hunting them. Its long black body twisting and moved at such a pace, Adair couldn’t fathom. It roared, catching up to the King of the Shattered Isles.

  Nei was shouting commands, the remaining teachers of the Academy filing up beside her, the senior students jumping in line, abilities cracking to life. Marquis was saying something to him, but he was entranced by the monster and he couldn’t look away. It was like a siren call. You. He started walking slowly down the steps, the voices of the Academy fading away. I see you. His ability snapped to attention, flowing into his heart, into his mind. The creature twisted to the left, forcing Tadeas to turn sharply. Herding him toward the forest.

  He was running now, sweat running down the back of his neck. Throwing his body weight, he hurled himself over the rock ledge as his ability exploded through him, rippling out from him. Right into the monster’s mind’s eye. The creature stopped, twisting violently toward him. It bared its teeth almost in a sickening smile at the new challenge. He dove deeper, into the sinew on the creature’s bones, breaking and shattering every iron it had in its consciousness. It charged toward him, the ground shaking from the force. Gritting his teeth, he ripped against the resistance so that he could attain control, but he slipped and was slammed back. You cannot win against me.

  With furrowed brows, Adair threw everything he had, barreling down, latching on, and tearing. The creature roared; he was almost to him. He could see his gleaming orange eyes, saliva dripping from its teeth. Tadeas galloped past him as Adair held his ground. It snapped. He plunged, transporting as he was suddenly in control of the monster’s body, looking at himself, pale and bloodied in front of him. From this perspective, the world was a bleak place, no color, no light, only the bloodthirsty yearning for destruction. He willed the monster to stop, his sides heaving, as he took in the charging lines of the Academy. Nei lead the assault, the ground churning from her anger, Brokk shifting back into his wolf form, Memphis and Emory running down the hill. And Marquis holding back, staring at the creature, knowing that he had beaten them all to it. Students spilled out—fire and ice, lightening and gas cracking to life as abilities readied. You will not kill me, we are of the same—Adair slashed down, shutting down every major organ, every nerve, every vein, obliterating it until he was slammed into his own body once more.

  The monster dropped dead at his feet. Loosening a breath, the world tilted, as he slowly spun, taking in the crowd. Everyone had stopped, staring at him with wide eyes, as the world tilted, and he collapsed, losing himself into nothingness, whispers chasing him away from the light. Purring and coaxing him into the darkness.

  12

  Brokk

  “Now who can tell me the practical uses for these plants? Mr. Foster?” He snapped to attention to see Nei looking at him with soft eyes, the rest of the classroom seemingly half asleep. Two days had passed since they had come back to the Academy. Everything and nothing had changed.

  Clearing his throat, he rasped, “If they are boiled, the gases are airborne poison.”

  Wyatt chuckled from the back far corner. “Maybe we should gather up the lot and use it against Stratton’s dad.”

  Laughter rippled and Nei snapped, “That is quite enough. You know the rules everyone. Let’s stay on task. Yes, Brokk, you are correct.” She continued to drone on about how to counteract and heal yourself against this gas, but he lost interest. Shifting in his seat, he angled his body slightly and looked out of the corner of his eye.

  Adair stared out the window, looking gaunt, bruised dark circles imprinted underneath his eyes. He was a world away from them and this classroom.

  Ripping his gaze back, staring blankly at the notes in front of him. Brokk was still in shock when Roque ordered classes to be resumed until the funeral tomorrow. And after that Stratton had a bloody reception scheduled to award his bravery against the dabarne that he had killed. He gripped the desk’s edge, trying not to break it in half. The school was in a lockdown, no one allowed to go anywhere without supervision, and absolutely no one could go outside. Emory assured him it was the best thing to do in a time of crisis, but he wasn’t so sure. Going through empty actions while the Faes and Tadeas were locked away scrambling on how to deal with the situation at hand felt pointless. A low hum of excitement spread around him as the minutes slipped away, tolling toward the end of class. A lot of people thought Nei’s instruction was pointless, but to him, learning about what the earth could provide as weapons and as aides was the most important lesson anyone could learn. And Nei, being a healer from the Isles, was the best of her trade, her mind an endless supply of knowledge.

  The bell tolled, and everyone jumped to life around him, practically running out of the classroom. Quietly collecting his things, he groaned as he stood, his joints popping and cracking viciously. A gentle tug across his mind made his eyes snap up. Again, there it was small at first, but then Memphis’s voice rattled against the walls of his consciousness. “I need you here. Quick.”

  Trying to act normal, Brokk gave Nei a weak smile before following his classmates out, a lot of them in pairs, their discussions low and intense. A lot of friends had been lost. A lot of people he had grown up with, in an instant, they had become a memory.

  “Where are you?” He made the thought concrete, knowing his friend would hear him. Images flew through his mind instantly and without hesitation, and he quickly complie
d, his feet carrying him to the small library he had visited countless times. He slipped in the room, shutting the door behind him. Memphis was bouncing on his heels, looking at him with wild eyes.

  He paused. “Memph, are you okay?”

  Shaking his head, his smooth voice filled his mind once more. “No. Quick, just trust me.”

  Brokk froze, unsure of what his friend wanted him to do.

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, exhaling hard he started to pace. “Memphis, what’s happening?”

  He stopped, looking at him but not quite seeing him. He was listening in on another conversation. Quickly, Memphis grabbed his arm and closed his eyes.

  He felt a strong ringing fill his senses, and then he succumbed, Memphis projecting what he was hearing like their own private intercom.

  “Are you threatening us?” Roque’s voice was low and dangerous.

  A man laughed, cold and unyielding. “On the contrary. I have come today to warn you that your efforts will be pointless. What is left of the capital to accept your new title? My clan has seen Sarthaven, and it wormed full with creatures from your worst nightmares, breeding in the shadows and ripping every soul apart. Except Cesan and his company. We barely made it here safely. So, I have come today on our way back to the Risco Desert to tell the one thing I do know. He is preparing to march on you, Roque, with an army not seen before by men.”

  Silence fell heavy and Tadeas whispered, “I have to go back to the Isles. I didn’t come here to die.”

  “You will leave us in our time of need?”