Lightning Bringer: (Lighting Seeker Book 2)

Bleeding Sky in the Crow's Nest

The sky bled. Vibrancy seeping from it like a leaf that had been stamped to oblivion in fall. The wind nipped at Vale's neck, sending any exposed piece of skin into a numb state. The color of the sky was snuffed out as the darkness consumed it, killing the day in a gentle final breath. The roar of the engines and the howling wind erased all proof of life, all potential for deep thought. In this place between night and day, between silence and roaring thought, Vale, perched in the crow's nest of an ancient beast that flew across the glittering sand far from all life.

The crow's nest was rusted and unmanned, leaving it as the perfect place to retreat. Vale hadn't had a moment alone to process the events of the last three days and needed a moment to collect her sanity before it was snatched like a piece of paper in a windstorm. Removing her earpiece, she tucked it into her pocket and leaned her head on the palms of her hands as she stared at the dying sky, enjoying the darkness that consumed her from sight.

"A speedy death," Vale murmured, feeling the words but losing them in the sound of the wind. The idea that she was walking into a deadly game didn't scare her nearly as much as the idea that she was wrong about Sky. That she may be placing her hands into a boy's hands who had no intention of keeping her from falling into line, from dying by his grandfather's hands. "He's engaged," she said allowed, a bitter smile breaking her stone expression into a painful grimace.

"But I'm alive," she countered. He must have done something to make that so. It wasn't done. Coming away from that house, that castle in the sky, garish and overwhelming with its lavish, blatant disregard of the people in the cities below who needed more from them than they ever cared to give, was a myth. Yet, their Vale sat, living, breathing proof that it was done. She had broken that tradition, and even in her fear, she would choose to trust Sky, or burn the place down, erase the AI's from their place of power and give the power of choice back to the people.

A sudden flash of night cut her view in two, startling her train of thought. Dash landed before her, his night hair glistening in the final embers of the day. He was quiet as he sat down across from her, his hair wild in the wind, the ink-black strands caressing his face like a paintbrush attempting to capture his beauty.

He remained silent as he looked past her and stared out at the sky, sensing her need for silence. Vale pulled the hood of her jacket up over her head, to calm her hair and finally looked at Dash. "I suppose you are here to tell me not to go?"

Dash was quiet, his eyes taking in the first set of blinking stars that pushed through the final sets of light, serving as a beacon, a frontline to welcome the night. His face was impossible to read. Vale wasn't sure if he had heard her over the sound of the wind until he spoke, his answer nearly impossible to hear in its soft low timber. "No. I know better than to assume I can change your mind."

He swallowed, scanning the sky as if searching for an answer. "Mortem has tasked me with walking you through what to expect." He ran his fingers through his hair, stirring up another layer of locks that were snatched up in the wind current. "The entirety of the Devinus household is skilled with verbal mind games. Every look, every gesture, every word is meant to hurt, control and dismiss until you are nothing more than an insect in their eyes."

Vale had seen a small hint of that when she had encountered Kebar and knew she was far out of her depth. She spoke her mind and jumped into action when it was needed. Mind games were just a theory she had encountered in books. Can I learn enough to keep myself alive before I am dropped at their front door?

Dash stretched out his legs, giving Vale a sneak at the mechanical gears that made up everything below his knees. Their faces fell into shadow as the night finally fell over them. "You are going to have to learn to keep your feelings hidden if you want to survive long enough to find Sky or the control room."

Vale nodded. "Never been very good at that have I?" She gave an empty laugh.

Dash made no indication to have heard her joke. "You'll have to watch your back and trust that Sky, no matter what he says, may be trying to send you a message underneath his words. Look for the pattern. He's clever and will try to warn you of the worst, but..." He trailed off.

His green eyes found Vale's, the only point of color in the dark. Two green emeralds full of warning. "He may be the one causing you the most pain. Kebar is a master of emotional torture-."

"In short, Sky is going to be an asshole," Vale interrupted. She could tell the entire conversation was causing Dash physical discomfort. What must it be like to be related to people that you have to warn others about? Vale had never had to prep anyone for Kriss. Perhaps she would have if they had known her mother beat people in the rings for a living, but that was a secret.

Dash stiffened at her words but managed a nod. "I know he won't mean it," Vale replied calmly. She was thankful for the surprising ease of her words. She certainly didn't feel calm.

"There's more," Dash said, his eyes vanishing behind closed lids, sending her view into a blanket of stars, lacking the glinting green color that his eyes accented the tapestry with. "About... the engagement."

"Ah." The world felt empty. But she wasn't sure how else she was supposed to respond.

"I don't know who has been picked and I think that is part of the game. Tye has heard whispers on the dark web of a competition."

"Competition?"

"A game played for the... honor of Sky's hand," Dash finished, his voice hollow.

Vale's stomach turned, and she was suddenly thankful that she couldn't remember the last time she ate. Vale didn't think she would have been able to keep it down. "So... he doesn't get to chose who he marries?" Vale asked. "It's a game and the winner gets Sky as her prize?"

"The winner gets to be apart of the Devinus legacy as their prize. Marriage is just the avenue for it."

An idea wormed its way into Vale's head, sending her heart hammering at a wild speed. "Did your mother..." She couldn't finish the thought.

"That's one of the reasons why she ran away. Sky's mother wasn't so lucky."

Vale felt like she was falling. The world of the Elite felt like it had even less freedom than the rest of humanity. So why do they cling to it? "So where do I come into all of this?"

Dash ran his fingers through his hair again, his hands hovering above his lap for a moment like he was itching to sign instead of talk. Vale had noticed that whenever he did this, he was thinking of Sky. "You'll have to play. You'll have to survive the game long enough to gain access to the control room."

Vale noticed that Dash hadn't mentioned her winning, her gaining Sky's hand in marriage. She didn't dwell on it either. Marriage was not a concept she could wrap her head around when the world around her felt like it was crumbling in a fire she couldn't put out.

"So the plan is to play a game with master manipulators, act like the lady I clearly am not, and do it all under the Elite's noses until I can plant the virus that will destroy the AI's hold on humanity?"

Dash laughed, a hint of his old self ringing through. "Basically. Easy right?"

Vale chuckled, the idea heavy on her chest. "And while I am at it, get Sky out." Dash looked away, a muscle working in his jaw. "I will get him out Dash." Vale insisted.

"I wouldn't make that promise. What if you can't? What if you have to choose between ending this war or keeping Sky?"

Vale blinked, ignoring the memory of Sky's declaration that his loyalties were to the Devenus family. "I won't have to choose."

"But if you do?" Dash asked, pushing for an answer. Forcing her to think through the journey ahead. Forcing her to think of the sacrifices she may have to make.

Vale was silent for a long moment. Pushing the idea of a life without Sky away. Ignoring the part of her mind that demanded that she think rationally. That it may come to a terrible choice that would break her. "It won't come to that."