UNBREATHABLE (13 page)

Slate said to trust him, and I do. Somewhat. Gage said trust is earned, and once shattered, it can never be earned again. It was ironic of him to say that. But this is what I'm afraid of. Not of trusting Julian, but of never being able to trust him
again
if something happens.

Dena enters the carriage and Julian sits back. She frowns as she drinks in the lavishness around us and I don't miss the light that touches her eyes when she sees Julian.

“Thanks to you, I'll never come back,” she says to me, dropping into the seat to Julian’s right.

“You might,” I say, remembering the gun in my boot. But I don’t reach for it now. She raises an eyebrow at me. I lean back into my seat and close my eyes as she and Julian share a look.

“There are some things a person knows,” she says softly to him.

“A person also knows to hope,” Julian replies. And I wonder if he only says that because I did, or because he genuinely wants to comfort Dena.

And I wonder if he actually believes in what he says.

Dena snorts.

The drapes swish and Queen Rhea enters, her head held high. She crosses the carriage in slow strides. The air turns frigid the heartbeat she sits. Chancellor Kole slips in quietly, his tall frame louder than words in the enclosed space.

“We will be there soon, daughter,” says my mother. She smirks at Julian and ignores Dena and Chancellor Kole. I glance at them, father and daughter.

I wonder if they both expect to die at White Plains. I wonder if they’ve spoken to one another of their deaths. All Chancellor Kole wants is to protect his daughter. Would he die for her safety?

In that way, he isn’t much different than Slate. I shove the thought away.

The soldiers file in. Their tired, wary eyes are trained on the velvet as they take their seats.

A gray-haired Jute takes his seat by the queen. When she nods, he clucks his tongue and snaps the reins.

And we’re off.

My heart jolts with my body. We're leaving, leaving the home I’ve known forever. I crane my neck around Julian to catch a glimpse of the outside when the Louen fabric flutters.

I expect to see Slate. Instead, there’s a girl, not much older than ten. Her big round eyes stare in awe as the distance increases between us.

Every human will know of this by midday.

I wonder if Slate is watching the carriage, his eyes casting a storm. A soft touch on the back of my hand startles me and I sit back. Julian's forehead crinkles in concern and I want to reach up and smooth away his worry.
You won't be alone
, his expression seems to say, and something inside me catapults at the unspoken words. His fingers slide along the seat and close around mine. My heart explodes at the simple touch.

He looks away then, his face suddenly blank. My heart thuds a cacophony in my chest, thrumming all the way to my fingers.

Slowly, slowly, slowly, I turn my head. The Queen’s moonlight eyes rest on our hands and her lips twist into a sly smile.

Nothing is worse than the chill creeping up my spine.

I don't know what time it is, though it’s still light outside. One of the soldiers sealed the entrance flap shut. On the other end, I see the rears of the mutants. Through the gaps between them, I can see the ground punctuated by towering boulders. Some are double my height, others are smaller.

I shiver when the wind howls. It sounds like it’s crying.

For me.

With every heartbeat that passes, I feel more and more worried. I've never seen a Jute before this week, and now I'm going to the heart of their territory.

To the Queen's palace or wherever, no less.

Chancellor Kole snores softly. Dena watches Julian, her expression distant. And I wonder, despite Julian not loving Dena, if 
she 
loves him. Gage never spoke to me of love. In fact, when it came to being human, he spoke of nothing. It was always science, history, literature.

I know how to describe love, but I don’t know how to feel it. But when I look at Slate, at the life in his eyes and the warmth of his smile, I feel something. Something that must be love. When I think of Julian, his dark looks, intense eyes, and genuine concern, I feel something too. It isn't the same as what I feel for Slate. But it is something. Something that sends exhilaration shivering through me. But I don’t know how
he
feels.

If only I could read him as easily as everyone can read me.

The carriage wheels squeal to a stop, and my heart catapults to my lips. But when no one makes a move to leave, I know we haven’t reached our destination yet.

The white-haired soldier turns and bows his head to the Queen. “Rain is coming, Your Majesty.”

Sure enough, the scent of acid fills the carriage, stinging my nostrils and eyes.

“Have we covered much ground?” The Queen asks immediately.

“Half, more or less,” he says with a pondering twist of his lips. “We’re likely in the middle right now.”

Rain. In the middle of nowhere. Bloody images flicker through my mind.

“We should be fine,” Julian says under his breath. He frowns. “The fabric is pure Louen. It’s the only material on Jutaire resistant to the rain.”

“Then why-” I start.

“The mutants,” Dena whispers.

“Someone needs to shield the horses,” Queen Rhea's voice shatters my thoughts. I would snort at her use of the word
horses
, but my mind is reeling from the reality of her words.

Not all of us will make it to White Plains.

She looks at Dena with a smirk. Her every movement is deliberately slow, so not a single twitch goes unnoticed. Her eyes slide to Julian.

My throat tightens.
No
. I beg silently. Please no.

Her eyes flicker to mine and she holds my gaze. When she looks away from me, Julian whispers. “She's lying. No one needs to shield the mutants, rain doesn’t affect them.”

“It’s a setup,” Dena says as it dawns.

When the Queen turns her face to one of her soldiers, everything falls into place. This is my mother’s way of showing me her power.

“Wren,” she says sweetly. “Do you volunteer?”

He shoots to his feet, gripping the curving rod of the carriage for support. His knuckles are white, and his face is bloodless in fear.

He is the one who committed the harmless blunder earlier, who gave me time to speak with Slate and say my good-byes.

And because of that, he will die. Not a simple death. Nothing close to a hanging or even a slit to his throat. He will bleed beneath the open skies, his skin will tear under the pelting rain. He will suffer.

And no one will mourn him.

“Well?” Queen Rhea asks.

“I- my Queen, I have children,” he begs. His voice breaks under the weight of his need to live. But his show of weakness in front of strangers is what undoes me. “Please spare me.”

My legs twitch. My hands tremble. I don't know what's wrong with me. But any moment I will spring. My hands will wrap around her throat and I will strangle her. This woman who gave birth to me.

Julian's fingers tighten around my wrist.

“Don't,” he whispers by my ear. “Just stay still. She 
wants 
you to act.”

“Will your children die without you?” Queen Rhea raises one eyebrow. I certainly didn't die without her. “With the provisions they receive from me, they have enough to feed an entire neighborhood.”

“That's not what I meant, Your Majesty,” he stammers. “I can’t leave them fatherless. Their mother is dead.”

How can a mother be so cruel?

“You are of no benefit to them. As you are of no benefit to me.”

Her words are final. She turns away as if she can't stand to see him any longer. A thin soldier rifles through a chest beneath his seat and brings out a sheet of the same light brown Louen lining the carriage.

Wren takes it with trembling hands. If Julian knows the mutants can survive, then surely he knows too. And if he knows that, he knows there’s no point in fighting back.

We're in the middle of nowhere.

One shove and he'll be stranded. The rain will consume him.

But the rain hasn't begun yet.

A sudden spark of hope catches within me. If the mutants don't need the Louen, they don't need Wren. He can protect himself, save himself. And if he steps out now, he has enough time to shield himself before the rain begins.

But will he?

He stands hopelessly in the center of the carriage. His face is puckered, holding back tears. He draws in a shaky breath and turns.

“Wait.” One word is all she says. It’s like a clap of thunder in my ears.

“Not yet.”

The carriage starts moving again. The rumble of its wheels along the rocky ground fills in the silence.

The acidic stench strengthens. It will pour any moment now. Why isn’t the Queen letting him go? Why isn't he outside, protecting the mutants as she says we need to? My confusion must be evident on my face for Queen Rhea laughs.

“All in good time, daughter.”

I hear the first drop. Like a blinding revelation in stark darkness. I hear the second drop. And suddenly, the rain is pouring. Thundering over my head in a cacophony of torrents.

“Ilen.” My mother's sweet voice breaks through the rain.

The thin soldier stands, his face crumpled. He turns to Wren, who stands in front of the entrance, his eyes widening in realization when I realize it too.

Ilen shoves him. There isn’t time to unfold the Louen. No time for protection. A heartbeat is all you need beneath Jutaire’s murderous rain.

I hear his cry. I feel my heart wrench.

And Julian leaps after him.

Not even my mother has a word to say.

Julian leaped. Julian is gone. Gone.

I jump to my feet, staring at the flap as if he’ll materialize before me. Dena stands too, slowly, one hand against her stomach, her face pale.

I act before I can think. I rush to the flap.

“Seize her,” the Queen hisses.

Three soldiers stand and two hands wrap around my arms.

I yank free and turn back. I throw a punch at the Jute. He yelps and covers his nose. The soldier named Ilen makes a move to grab me, but by the way he moves, I can tell he isn’t even trying. But I throw a kick at his stomach and he takes it, falling back against the other soldier, pulling them both to the ground. I only have a moment to realize he is helping me, that I may have an ally.

But will it matter?

I pull the hood over my head and the mask over my face. A vain attempt to save myself from the rain that will kill me. I’m about to pull back the flap when someone attacks me from behind. Pain shoots down along my spine.

The soldier towers over me. As his fingers tighten around my forearms, I raise my leg without turning and kick his head.

And before anyone can stop me, I leap.

I land in a crouch, one gloved hand on the red ground. For the first time in my life, I stand beneath Jutaire’s tears. I breathe in the acidic, humid stench of the bleeding world around me. And I live.

That’s when I realize. My tunic, gloves, hood and mask—it was no wonder they shimmered like the carriage.

They’re Louen. Slate was protecting me.