A Radiant Sky

7

The sun hung low in the sky, and the hazy orange light cast a sepia feel over the flat, cracked streets and run-down houses. Somewhere, I thought I heard the sound of a truck backfiring—at least I hoped that’s what it was—and a chorus of dogs began to bark, followed by a siren. We weren’t in River Springs anymore.

We touched down outside of 144 Sycamore Street.

“Nice,” Raven said, raising her eyebrows.

It looked exactly like it did in my vision: a gray house, shabby, showing neglect, with a dilapidated porch, and a metal chain-link fence around the front yard. A russet colored pit bull was tied to a tether in the ground. And standing next to him, scratching his ears, was the girl from my vision.

She had the same straight-but-messy light brown hair, tied up in the same lopsided pigtails. When Raven and I pushed open the gate, she looked up quickly.

Her eyes darted between the two of us in confusion.

“Hi,” I said. “We’re friends of your dad.” I cringed as I realized that’s what creepy stalkers and kidnappers might have said. “I’m Skye.” The little girl squinted at me appraisingly, then nodded her chin at Raven.

“Who’s she?”

Raven stiffened. “I’m Raven,” she said.

“I don’t understand.” The girl had backed herself up onto the porch, one hand behind her on the doorknob. “Why would one of you”—she pointed at me—“be with one of them?” And she pointed at Raven. “Why would you be together?”

Raven and I glanced at each other.

“What do you mean?” I asked slowly. “One of who?”

“A light-haired one and a dark-haired one.”

“You know about that?” I said in surprise.

She nodded.

“You don’t have to worry,” I said. “She and I are on the same side.” The girl withdrew even farther, panic flashing across her face. “A different side!” I added quickly. “Not dark or light. Something new.”

“New?”

I nodded. “We want to stop both sides. Keep them from hurting each other, or anyone else.”

“Oh.” She looked confused.

“I’ll explain more, if you want.”

The girl twisted one of her ponytails around her finger. “Your name’s Skye?” she asked.

“Yep. What’s your name?”

She looked at me quizzically.

“Earth,” she said at last.

“What?” said Raven, just a tad too aggressively, perhaps forgetting we were talking to a small child and taking a step forward. “Are you trying to be cute or something?”

“I’ve heard of you,” Earth said quietly. Raven stopped in her tracks, and I stared.

“You’ve heard of me?” I asked hoarsely.

At the sound of a pickup truck rumbling into the driveway, Earth’s eyes grew wide. The door opened and slammed closed, and Aaron Ward came hurtling forward.

“Hey!” he shouted, bounding past us and taking the rickety porch steps three at a time—which, judging from the state of them, maybe he shouldn’t have done. “Hey! Get away from my daughter. What the hell are you thinking, coming here, out in the open where anyone can see you? Are you crazy?”

There was no mistaking Aaron Ward. He looked the same as in the picture—but older, like in my vision. His dark hair was wavy and shot through with gray, and there were lines on his face from too much time weathering the sun. The only difference was his eyes. All trace of mischief, of conspiratorial smile, was gone. It had been replaced by something gruff and surly. “Get off my porch and leave us alone,” he spat. “And you can take your spies . . .” he said, motioning toward the trees and bushes along the side of the property, “with you.”

“Dad!” Earth said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “It’s Skye.”

Aaron shut his mouth and stared at me, hard. He squinted, as if trying to place me, to determine if what his daughter said was true.

“What’s she doing here?” He nodded toward Raven, his voice so low it was practically a growl.

“Please.” Raven put a hand on her hip. “Nobody mask their disdain on my account.”

“She’s with me. Don’t worry, she’s cool. She’s not a . . . Guardian.”

“Can they stay for dinner?” Earth asked, looking up at her dad with big, brown eyes. “Please?” Aaron stared at us a little longer, then seemed to come to some kind of decision.

“I hope you like takeout,” he grumbled, opening the door.

Earth made a face at me as we walked inside.

“We always get takeout,” she whispered.

The four of us sat around a white metal table in the kitchen.

“Water?” Aaron said gruffly, holding out a glass pitcher.

I nodded politely. “Thank you.”

He took a bite of apple pie, chewing thoughtfully. He’d gotten two slices, and we’d cut them into four. Earth insisted.

“We don’t have guests a lot,” she said earnestly. Aaron glanced at her, almost amused. I could tell that this kid was a handful. I already liked her.

I studied her. If she was Aaron’s daughter, then she had traces of Rebel blood in her. And possibly some of the special Rogue powers her father had. She clearly knew about the Order and the Rebellion. Maybe even knew about her own heritage.

“Who was that out in the yard?” I asked. “He’s cute. I always wanted a dog, but Aunt Jo said if we got one I had to feed it and walk it, and I was always too busy skiing.”

“I get to walk him,” she said proudly. “That’s Milo. He’s our attack dog.”

“Scary,” Raven said, sounding like she meant the opposite.

“We got him to scare away the light-haireds.”

I glanced at Aaron. He was watching me.

“We saw you race once,” Earth said.

“Okay, Trouble, that’s enough sugar for you,” Aaron said brusquely, whisking her plate to the sink.

“He calls me Trouble,” Earth stage-whispered to me and Raven. “Because I talk a lot.”

“Not a lot,” Aaron corrected, sitting back down and mussing her hair. “Too much.”

“Right, too much. Dad says one day I’m going to say the wrong thing to the wrong person and get in BIG trouble. Do you know what that’s called?”

“No.” I smiled. “Tell me.”

“It’s called eating your shoe.” She crossed her arms and beamed, impressed with this knowledge.

“I think you might want to check again,” Raven said, and I elbowed her in the rib.

“Ow!”

“Raven knows all about eating your shoe,” I said to Earth.

“It’s not a good habit.” She shook her head, as if to confirm this fact.

“No,” I said. “It’s not.” I looked up at Aaron to find him watching me again. “Your attack dog,” I said. “The Order. They’re watching you.”

“Every damn day,” he said.

“They come to my school, too,” Earth piped up. “Every damn day.” Aaron glanced at her sideways. “I can see them out the window during class. And sometimes if you sit in the kitchen at night with the lights off, you can see their wings moving outside the window. Like pale butterflies.”

“When do you do that?” Aaron asked, surprised.

“When you get home late,” she said. “Don’t worry. Milo sits with me.”

Suddenly, all the windows in the kitchen slammed closed—on their own—and the curtains drew themselves in tightly. I flinched.

“Just in case,” Aaron said through gritted teeth. “They could be watching us right now.”

I wondered what kind of powers he had, as a Rogue. Some kind of control over wind or energy, to be able to pull off a trick like that?

I forced myself back to the conversation, and the little girl sitting next to me.

“Do you spend a lot of time alone?” I asked her. Earth nodded vigorously. “So do I,” I said. “You should come to River Springs sometime. Hang out with me.”

She perked up. “Dad used to live in River Springs! I saw pictures in his album. And then we visited to watch you ski. It’s so pretty.”

“When did you come watch me ski?” I asked. “I don’t remember—”

“Okay, Trouble. I think it’s bedtime, wouldn’t you say?”

“Do I have to?” Earth puffed out her bottom lip.

“Yes, you do, missy,” he said, giving her a nudge to get her moving. “Go brush those teeth while I talk to Skye and Raven.”

Earth got up. Suddenly, I felt a tiny pair of arms wrap around my waist, and looked down to find her hugging me good-bye.

“Hi there,” I said, and patted her head awkwardly.

“Will you come back and visit us again?” She looked up at me with big brown eyes.

I glanced at Aaron, who stiffened.

“Well, that’s up to your dad,” I said.

“I’ll talk to him later,” she whispered behind her hand.

“Okay, it’s a deal.”

“Bye, Raven!” she called over her shoulder on her way out the door.

“Hey! Don’t I get a hug?” Raven yelled after her. But the little girl was already gone.

“I bet you get a lot of sleep,” I said.

“You don’t even know the half of it.” Aaron paused, as if trying to figure out what to say next. “I’ve thought about this day.” He looked down at the water glass in his hand. “Seeing you all grown up. What I would say to you. The last time I saw you, you were her age.” He glanced at the stairs. “Earth!” he shouted. “Let’s hear that water running!”

“I’m going!” she called back. We heard a skitter of small feet climb the rest of the staircase.

Raven rolled her eyes. “I think somebody could use some help,” she said, and stood up. “I’ll let the two of you talk.”

We sat in silence, the only sound the hum of the refrigerator.

“Why don’t I remember?” I asked softly. “You, the cabin, the Uprising. If I was six when all this took place, how come I remember none of it?”

Something flickered in his eyes, but I could sense him beating the flicker back.

“Look,” he said awkwardly. “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you all this. Shouldn’t Josephine do it?”

“She’s told me things. She told me about you. What you meant to each other. What my parents were trying to do. But I know she hasn’t told me everything, and I don’t know if she will. Please,” I said to him. “There’s still so much about myself and my family that I don’t know.”

He took a thoughtful sip of water. “Your mom was very powerful, Skye. She could . . . see things. Visions of events that would happen. And she could do this thing . . . mess with your mind a little. One of her powers of the light.”

“She used mental manipulation?” I said quietly. “My mom?”

“She was pretty good at it,” he said. “Even on earth, even as a regular person. I guess the stronger you were as an angel, the longer those powers stay with you, a part of you. She lost her wings, but her powers never really left her.”

I stared at him, trying to process what he was saying.

“She messed with my mind,” I said. “She made me forget.”

Aaron looked away. “I know that’s probably hard to hear,” he said. “Look, I’m really sorry. Maybe I’m not the best person to talk to about all this.”

“No,” I said sternly, looking up. “You’re the person I need to talk to.”

“I wanted to keep trying,” he said. “After your mom and dad died. But Josephine insisted against it. She had you to look after. She promised your mother she would protect you from all this. That you would grow up like a normal kid.” He smiled ruefully. “I guess you know now. Looks like the Order got their way after all.”

“Aaron,” I said. “You know why my parents were trying to protect me, right? About my powers—the mix of dark and light?”

He nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

“I have powers that I inherited from my father—dark ones. And I also have powers that I inherited from my mother. Gifted powers. I can see things too, just like she could.”

“Oh,” he said, his eyes softening into awe. “Is that so?”

“Yes, and no matter how much they want me to, I can’t join either side, the Rebellion or the Order. I’m starting my own group. I’m going to finish what my parents started.”

“Skye,” he said seriously. “We failed. Your mom saw a fourth Rogue in those visions of hers, but she couldn’t tell us who it was.”

“I can use my own visions. I can find out who it is. But we need you, Aaron. And,” I added, trying not to smile, “so does Aunt Jo.” I hoped I sounded subtle.

He looked up. “She does?”

“Please come back to River Springs with us. We’ll figure this out. We’ll find a way to keep the Order and the Rebellion in balance, prevent any more lives from being destroyed. We can only do it with your help.”

He stood up and stretched, leaned against the kitchen counter with his back to me. I saw his back rise and fall in a sigh.

“It’s not that easy. That was my old life. It’s taken a lot for me to put it behind me.”

“But wouldn’t it be worth it?”

“You don’t understand,” he said, turning around. He had that same fierce look in his eyes as Asher and Aunt Jo. “That life, it follows you. My wife—”

I flinched. What was I thinking? Of course Earth had to have a mother.

“My late wife,” he corrected. “She was followed by Guardians, every day. She didn’t know it, of course. Didn’t know what they were. They tracked her as a threat to me—to keep me in line, to prevent me from ever going back to Josephine and James, finishing what we began. Or from starting some kind of uprising on my own.” He looked pained. “I couldn’t live like that, with the constant fear anymore. I went back to River Springs, to beg your aunt to think about joining forces again. She said no, and by the time I got back, my wife—” He broke off, his voice going for a moment. “They killed her.”

I sucked in a breath. “No,” I whispered.

He nodded.

“Earth found her, in the car with the windows up. Those bastards made it look like she did it herself, but I knew it was them. The kid’s learned to grow around the pain, push it down. But she’s a special one. Strange, but special.” He looked at me. “I think you two have quite a bit in common.”

“I could teach her,” I said. “I know she has powers. She must. I can show her how to use them.”

“I told her about the angels at a young age. Didn’t want to lie to her about how her mom died, you know?”

“Please come,” I said. “It’s safe with us. We’re protected.”

“Are you?” He looked skeptical. “How protected are you, really?”

I felt a chill spread across my skin, prickling it with goose bumps.

“You don’t know what they’re capable of,” he whispered.

I stood up quickly, suddenly scared to be away for too long. “I have to get back,” I said. “You’ll come, right? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

He sighed deeply. “Just give me some time to think,” he said. “For my daughter.”

When I got to the door, I paused. “They killed my parents, too,” I said without looking at him. “I don’t know about you, but I have to fight.”

Raven and I stood on the sidewalk in front of the house. A light still glowed in the kitchen window, but otherwise it was dark. We could see Aaron’s silhouette behind the curtains, sitting with his head in his hands.

What are you doing, Skye? I asked myself. Is this worth it?

But I knew that it was—that any small pain I caused now would save us all from the greater pain that would be caused when the Order and the Rebellion clashed.

“Well, that was productive,” Raven said. “You caught up with Aaron Ward, and I got to read a bedtime story.”

I pressed my fingers into my eyes and breathed deep.

“Skye,” she said. “Are you okay? I swear I’m not being bitchy when I say this, but you look awful.”

“It’s been a long day,” I said. “Let’s just go home.”

But even as I said it, the edges of my world began to blur out of focus, into something darker, hotter.

Tiny, dark stars bloomed into life in the air around us. They smoldered like the glowing embers of a fire, igniting the air, causing smoke to unfurl in plumes.

“Skye?” Raven’s voice faded into the snap and crackle of flames.

My heart beat faster.

My vision began to swim, to fill with thick, black smoke, as the rest of the street faded away.

Please make her be all right, I found myself thinking.

Who?

Flames exploded around me, shattering glass, filling the air with acrid, heavy smoke so thick it felt solid. Sirens shrieked somewhere off in the distance, and someone was yelling. Wooden beams above me glowed bright with fire, raining sparks and ashes down around me, and glossy papers burned and fluttered to the ground. Panic and smoke filled my throat and lungs. All I could think—the one thought that rang through my every fiber—was I have to save her.

“Skye!” Raven’s voice pierced my thoughts, and the vision dissolved into wisps of smoke. Sycamore Street was quiet and dark. A dog barked in the distance. “Are you okay? Was it a vision?”

I blinked. “There was a fire. I had to save someone.”

“Did you see who?”

I shook my head.

“Well.” She paused. “There’s no use standing around here, is there? Can you fly?”

“Yeah,” I said, suddenly itching to get back home. Aaron’s words burned like those flames in my mind.

You don’t know what they’re capable of.

“Let’s go.”

We took to the sky. It was dark now, but clear and scattered with stars. The moon shone a path for us toward the mountains, toward home.

And then, all of a sudden, it was less clear.

“Is that smoke?” Raven asked, coughing.

Smoke.

“Can we get closer?” I urged. The smoke was gathering in the sky in billows of soot. We descended. “It’s coming from downtown,” I said. “See?”

Through the rising smoke, I could make out the buildings along Main Street, a crowd gathering. And then my heart lurched as I pinpointed exactly where the fire was coming from.

“It’s Into the Woods,” I said, my voice going hoarse. “It’s Aunt Jo’s store.”