Midnight Sky (Dark Sky Book 2) Read Free

Hellions. I never saw her again.
    You’re a strong, smart, brave girl, Claire. You have mine and your father’s talents. One day you’ll use that key, and you’ll save us all.
    The last words she ever said to me. Words that to this day, I had no hope of understanding. I sighed and placed the key back under my shirt. Snowflakes melted on my face. I raised my head and looked at the clouds slowly drifting through the sky. There was nothing ominous about them. If anything, they looked almost casual as they floated by, leaving powdery white debris behind.
    As beautiful as the snow was, I only felt the cold. It sank through my skin and chilled me to the marrow of my bones. Somewhere beyond those clouds was a tear in the sky. An entrance to another dimension where monsters lurked in the dark. Monsters that wanted something from me.  
    Despite what I said to Sawyer, I didn’t think we’d seen the last of the Hellions. And when they returned, I wasn’t sure we would be able to withstand their fury.

Chapter 2

    The gentle snowfall became a full-fledged storm after we left the tavern. It became too dangerous for us to make our rendezvous with Davy, our local food supplier. We had to hope that he would be willing to find another day to restock us. Sawyer, Gemma, and Nash fought off other marauders and thieves attacking Davy in exchange for food, water, and fabrics. But with winter coming, Davy insisted he would hunker down for the snowy months. We would be lucky if we got half of what Sawyer originally bargained for.
    Using our stolen Hellion skiff, we careened through the whipping snow toward the ports of Westraven. Before The Storm, Westraven was the pinnacle of trade, ships coming from all edges of Aon to barter and exchange good and services. That all stopped when the Hellions invaded and set up blockades around Westraven, making it impossible for survivors to escape. Those walls were currently being demolished by engineers and angry survivors determined to leave the city while they had a chance, a few brave souls adapting our idea and stealing any fallen Hellion skiffs they came across. No one really knew where they would go, or if there was still anywhere to go.  
    A few of the new explorers left for days, coming back with grim faces and saying they found nothing. Rumors started to form about the other cities being obliterated after The Storm hit Westraven. Ten years of destruction would leave none alive, and the Behemoth had remained over Westraven as a warning. No one knew for sure, and our crew wouldn’t leave. I didn’t know who was taking the greater risk–those who wanted to carve out a new life for themselves past the barricade, or us for staying behind in a dead city.  
    My indecision and curiosity dissipated when I spotted the rounded air hangar sitting in the middle of a hundred yard tarmac.  
    Despite being the only reliable station in the city, few survivors ventured by the remnants of the ports. Demolished from countless Hellion attacks and considered cursed, the Wanderers decided to make their home and berth there. Inside the air hangar behind the port’s lonely tower, sat the Dauntless Wanderer, the ship that had been at the heart of so many nightmares over a decade ago.
    It always amused me to think that the ship I used to fear was now my home, and the safest place I could be.  
    Sawyer lowered the skiff to the ground about fifteen feet from the door, right where the concrete turned into sheets of metal plating. Sawyer let the engine idle and I stood up. I grabbed a pair of thick gloves from a compartment near the mast, pushing aside the billow of the pitch black sails tied to the metal post. Once I slipped the gloves on, I hopped out of the small, roughly constructed ship. I was always glad to be off the stolen, scorched vessel, even though I knew the dried blood had been cleaned away and the horrible spear figurehead was removed. Every time I looked at the bolted patches of metal, all I could think