Page 14
At times, Ryneth was awake, but mostly he slept. Or drifted under whatever they gave him.
Later, shouting jolted him awake.
“Soldiers!” someone screamed. “Helion soldiers are coming!”
Panic erupted around them. Their captors sprinted between cages, unlocking some and dragging people out.
Lysa’s cage opened. She twisted, reaching back as a guard yanked her out. “Ryneth!”
He lunged against the bars. A rifle butt smashed near his face. Pain tore across his cheek. Another guard hauled him out. Ryneth fought, kicking blindly, until a boot pressed into his spine, knocking the air out of him.
“Sedate him!”
A syringe punched into Ryneth’s shoulder. Cold spread too fast, making his muscles clench.
“No,” he gasped. “Lysa—”
She screamed his name as they hauled her toward the door.
“No—” Ryneth tried to lunge after her, but his limbs went heavy.
The sedative burned through his veins and he sagged against the bars, breath tearing out of him.
Static hissed from his hands in sharp, broken bursts. The cage bars lit in brief white veins. A crack snapped across the concrete beneath him, bright enough to make one of the guards curse and jump back.
“Shit—”
The lights overhead flickered again. Another guard flinched back with a hiss.
“The sedatives aren’t holding,” one of them barked. “He’ll fry us in the transport.”
Another impact shook the walls. Dust rained from the beams overhead. Somewhere beyond the loading bay, men were shouting.
“Everyone get out now,” the leader snapped. Then he looked at Ryneth. “Not him. He’ll fry us all to fucking death.”
“We can’t leave him here.” The masked blond was already moving. Shoving one of the guards aside, he dropped to a crouch and glared at Ryneth. “Get him up. Now.”
Ryneth tried to push himself back, but his limbs barely obeyed. The static inside him surged harder, wild and wrong, racing up his arms in a violent rush. Light snapped from his bound wrists to the bars of his cage.
“We have no time. We go now.”
“Come on!” the leader shouted. “Leave him or we’ll lose everyone!”
The blond man looked at Ryneth one last time, fury burning through the slits of his mask. “This is not over,” he muttered, and stepped back as the others ran. “You fucking freak.”
A boot struck Ryneth’s ribs as they pulled back. Another stamped on his hand, forcing it still.
Lysa’s voice vanished down the corridor.
Ryneth thought of Mara’s voice telling him to be careful. He thought of the boys curled against him that morning. He hoped someone would tell them he tried.
The warehouse doors slammed as boots thundered away.
Ryneth lay on the concrete, cheek against stone. The static inside him thinned to nothing as he listened to the fading noises.
Lights blurred. Helion’s bright world dimmed.
Then finally, he let go.
