Golden Read Free

Farouk, see if you can get that engine running.”
    The boys exchanged uneasy glances as they swiftly carried out Shakes’s orders.
    Liannan caught Shakes’s pleading look and moved quickly toward Nat. “Hey,” she said softly. “There’s nothing you can do for him anymore. And we need your help if we’re going to get out of here alive.”
    Nat said nothing. Ashes in her mouth. Numb. Spent.
    â€œWes would want that, Nat. Don’t make his sacrifice meaningless. He needs you to be strong. He wants you to live.”
    Nat ignored her. She ignored them all. They’d all given up on Wes, but she wasn’t going to. He couldn’t be dead; he couldn’t leave her, not now. Not so soon after they’d found each other again.
    She pressed harder against his chest, willing his heart to beat. Willing him to make his way back to her side.
    She could live without drakonsight, without drakonlimb, without drakonwing. But she could not live if Wes did not.
    The deck vibrated underneath her as the boat’s engines sputtered to life—and then died just as quickly. Shakes cursed. “What the ice is going on back there?”
    â€œPipes are frozen solid,” yelled Farouk from below. “And we can’t get a fire started in the coal bin!” The ship had been retrofitted with a steam engine when its owners hadn’t been able to fix its electric one.
    â€œNat, come on,” cried Liannan, running toward the stern of the ferry. “Help me conjure a flame!”
    Nat was made of drakonfire, but she remained still. She was sure that without her drakon, there was no fire left in her. She was unable to move, unable to breathe, as Wes’s heart remained silent underneath her palm.
    His heart had stopped and now hers was shattered.
    She was no use to anyone. She couldn’t keep him alive—she had no drakon, no fire, no power of her own. She was nothing; she was nobody.
    Dimly, she heard the RSA forces swarming around the burning city, recapturing the marked who were once prisoners in the White Temple, the very people Wes and his crew had just set free. Rounding them up one by one.
    It was all for nothing.
    A gunshot cracked in the distance, and Nat jumped. She turned to see—and from afar, she saw a body fall to the ground with a hard thump.
    No. They weren’t rounding up the prisoners.
    They were executing them.

2
    A M I DEAD?
    Why can’t I move? What’s happening? What’s wrong with me?
    It took a while for Wes to figure out he had collapsed. Part of him was confused, because for a moment he was still standing, and he wondered if it was because kissing Nat was too much like a dream.
    A beautiful, perfect dream.
    To Wes, it wasn’t quite real, as if he were unable to accept that they were together now, after everything they’d endured to get here.
    They’d been kissing on the deck of the ferryboat. Nat’s lips were open and soft against his. As he held her in his arms he marveled at her many improbabilities—so small and fierce, so much fury and strength in one person. He was looking forward to their life together, thinking about what they would do when they returned to New Vegas.
    I don’t deserve this. Her.
Wes was so happy his head hurt.
    Maybe that was the reason why everything looked pixelated and he felt as if he couldn’t breathe.
    Which he couldn’t.
    And all of a sudden, his knees gave way and he was falling.
    Pull it together, man, it’s just a kiss,
he scolded himself.
And look what you’ve done, you’ve scared Nat.
    The last thing he remembered seeing was Nat’s face, her eyes wide with shock, the ghostly pallor on her cheeks, her mouth open in surprise. He knew something had happened, and that it had something to do with him, even if he wasn’t sure what.
    â€œWes,” she called out. “Wes, no—”
    I’m here,
he tried to tell her.
    She looked like she