The Wandering (The Lux Guardians, #2) Read Free

can’t
get the rest of that sentence out. It feels like a giant lump of
emotion is stuck beneath my voice box.
    I take a slow breath
and shut my eyes. If I can’t see Siah’s face I won’t know when the
guilt crosses it. I don’t want to say this, to make him feel worse
about everything, but he has to know. He can’t keep walking away
without telling me. And I can’t keep having a heart attack every
time he’s more than a metre away. “You left—and you didn’t say
anything. And I thought—”
    Heat pushes into my
skin from where his hand has sought my wrist but I roll out of his
reach. I can’t let him touch me. I won’t be able to hold the tears
back if he does.
    “I’m sorry.” His
whisper barely disguises the way his voice cracks.
    “You left me on that
train and I can’t … I can’t forget that.”
    He repeats his apology
and he sounds so wrecked that I open my eyes to look at him. I
needn’t have been so worried about seeing his guilt; I can’t see
his face at all in this darkness. I can only place where he’s laid
because he obliterates a cluster of stars. But the clouds must
shift because moonlight falls through the night, quick and without
warning. It highlights the intense expression that’s taken up
residence on Yosiah’s face.
    For a second I mistake
it for anger, but I know what anger looks like on Yosiah. His jaw
clenches, his eyebrows cut deep black lines of disapproval, and his
eyes—his eyes burn hotter than a solar flare. But now? None of
those signs. Just this steady, fixed stare that has my heart
jumping. I frown at him for what must be half a minute, and then I
realise I’ve seen him look this way before.
    I skitter away from
him, pulling my knees to my chest as a barrier.
    Yosiah chews his lip,
then says, “I’m not leaving you. Ever. Just so you know.”
    I bite down on my
tongue because the words that want to pass my lips are something
neither of us wants to hear.
    “Shut up,” I say
instead. Siah’s exhale sounds like relief. I chance a look at him
and find the intense look gone. My body deflates. My ribs give a
half-hearted ache as I sink back into the grass, facing away from
Siah just in case he gets that look again. He doesn’t touch me or
move any closer but I know he wants to. I see his heated expression
behind my eyelids and have to make an effort to keep my breathing
regular.
    Siah asks, “Are you
still angry?”
    “Very.”
    “Still scared?”
    My face automatically
shifts into a glare even though he can’t see me. He’s overstepped
and he knows it. I am, though—still scared that I’ll lose him.
“Yes,” I surrender.
    “Can I hug you?”
    I snort. “If you want
to lose your arms.”
    He mutters a harmless
curse. The grass whispers as he shuffles closer. My body relaxes,
Siah’s proximity a comfort blanket, even as my mind flares with
alertness. If he puts his arms around me I might give him a black
eye.
    “Do you think the
Officials are looking for us?” I ask to distract him.
    “Yes.”
    “Do you think they’ll
find us?”
    “Yes.”
    My inhale is sharp.
“And then what?”
    “And then we’ll kill
them.” His finger brushes the back of my neck. I’m sure he’s
following the scar I have there. I have to fight simultaneous urges
to shiver and to flee.
    “Miya?” I hate the
tone of his voice.
    “No.”
    “I didn’t say
anything.”
    “Still no.”
    He
huffs, removing his touch. “How are you feeling about your mum?”
Now I really want
to thump him. “She must have been killed by the
collapse.”
    “Thanks genius, I
hadn’t worked that out for myself.”
    He’s silent, probably
thinking his quiet will coax an answer out of me. I make myself
borderline comfortable and focus all my energy on going to
sleep.
    I’m not going to talk
about this now. Or ever.
     
    ***
     
    Honour
     
    07:32. 11.10.2040. The
Free Lands, Southlands.
     
     
    The Free Lands are not
what I expected. All the time I lived in the confines of