It was a steep
drop. A long, long way down. Further than she had ever dared to try.
But she had
nothing to lose by falling. All she would end up with were a few shattered
bones and torn skin, and these didn’t even last. She healed, sooner than she would have liked. She wanted something that
would leave its mark, just so she wouldn’t have to feel the constant ache from
the ugly, jagged stumps on her back where her wings used to be.
The brackish waters
crashed and foamed beneath her, unnecessarily dramatic. She lifted a foot. They
were ungainly things, nothing like wings that bore her aloft in an intimate
dance with the wind. She hardly ever shifted if she could help it. But now,
with her wings ripped off, legs were all she had.
She tipped her
head to the sky and raised her arms, ready to leap off the rocky edge of the
cliff –
“Suicide,
Megonea? How very melodramatic of you.”
She froze. The
voice had the power to do that to her every time. She had weathered every
element there was, but Finnesias continued to flay her to the bone.
“This is none of
your business, Finne,” she called over her shoulder, but her arms fell back to
her sides in defeat.
“On the
contrary, I have a vested interest in your welfare. A soldier who deserts rank in
the name of love might prove our most valuable asset.”
She whirled
around and spat. “I am an asset to no one.”
“Oh, come now.
Have some faith in yourself.”
He took a step
closer. Megonea forced herself to remain where she was. She would retain what
was left of her dignity in front of the pompous leader of the Rebellion. To
think they used to train together when they were recruits; they could not be
more different now. Finne with his lazy smile and cunning in his eyes (though
he would rather use the word shrewdness),
he never had and never would belong to the Empire Army.
“Why are you
here, Finne.”
“Rescuing you
from a terrible, terrible decision.”
“You are hardly
qualified to save me.”
“Yet, here I am,
succeeding in stalling for time.”
She turned back
to face the sea. Part of her wanted to hide her ruined wings from his sight,
but then she reminded herself that she no longer cared. This fate she had
chosen for herself was far kinder than what lay in wait for her in the sky
palace.
Suddenly, he was right behind her, his breath dangerously
warm against her skin. His fingers brushed the left stump on her back. She
flinched, felt the muscles in her neck tighten but also a tingle in her skin where
his breath landed.
“Let’s make a deal,” he murmured. “If the Rebellion fails,
I’ll jump with you. For now, we’re sticking together. Just like old times, eh?”
Megonea wasn’t sure what Finne meant by old times, because
not once in their shared history had they ever stuck together. Before she
could recall a time where they weren’t on opposite sides, Finne had given her a
hard shove in the back.
He would, Megonea thought. Of course he would. She was a
fool to have thought otherwise. With her dead, he had one less Empirion to deal
with.
She was footloose, tumbling down with none of the grace she
held when she was sparring. Air rushed past her with the ferocity of a Black
Kite’s wings and a shriek ripped its way out of her.
It was a much further drop than she anticipated.
