Phoebe North - Starbreak

“I guess you were wrong about the carnivorous plants,” he said, looking pointedly at me. But instead of climbing his palm, the vine shrank back. By the time he’d turned back to Ettie, it was already gone—retreating rapidly into the darkness of the forest.

“That’s strange,” he said. Laurel leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“It’s because you smell bad.”

“Hey!”

Laughing, the pair made their way back toward our supplies. After a moment Ettie and Rebbe Davison followed. Not Jachin, though. He hung back, standing beside me, his hands on his hips.

“It could be instinctual,” I offered. “Responses to stimuli.”

But Jachin gave his head a shake. “A different response to the child’s touch than to Deklan’s? That implies a degree of judgment not typically seen in plants.”

I stared at him. “And what would it mean in an animal?”

“That it’s afraid,” he said. “HaShem help us, afraid of what ?”

We walked, and walked. As the afternoon wore on, clouds began to crowd the sky. They seemed to skate across the golden expanse above, tinting everything gray. It was so different from the way that dark descended on our ship—evenly and predictably—that at first I didn’t even notice the wisps of smoke in the distance.

“What’s that, Terra?” Ettie asked, tugging on the sleeve of my flight suit. I stopped, cupping my hands over my eyes. The smoke was dark and thick, a column that stretched into the clear sky.

“Fire, it looks like.”

“Does fire just happen like that?” Deklan asked.

I pursed my lips uncertainly. “Wildfires. Mara told me about them. But it’s too cold here. And the fire’s just in one spot. It hasn’t spread.”

“Like our campfire,” Rebbe Davison said. We all squinted into the distance.

“Should we walk out toward it?” Laurel asked. I was surprised to find that she’d turned toward me. I lifted my shoulders. I wasn’t sure what to say—wasn’t used to even being asked anything . But Deklan cut in before I could answer.

“We’re trying to find civilization, right?” he asked. I had to admit, it sounded good when he spoke. Like he was strong and sure, like he could keep us safe. “A campfire means people.”

“But it means leaving the path,” I protested. And not only that—we’d have to head east into the forest, rather than south, away from Eps Eridani as it sank behind the mountains. Away from the city, too. I felt panic rise in my throat. “I don’t think we should. My dream—”

“Aw,” Deklan said. He pawed at the back of his neck, looking sympathetically down at me. He was so tall and broad-shouldered. He must have felt invincible, even out here in the elements. I wondered what it was like to feel so strong and certain. “I know you had a dream, Terra. But if we’re trying to get out of the wilderness, it seems to me like finding someone is our best bet. Dream or no dream.”

His smile was wide and charming. I wanted to believe him, but I couldn’t. It flew in the face of everything that I knew was true. My boy. His words.

“I suspect there are animals in the forest,” Jachin finally declared. At that, they all started. Even Ettie. She snatched up my hand, and then pressed her face against my upper arm, hiding.

“Animals?” she said. “Alien animals?”

Jachin watched the girl as she peered out from behind me. His knitted eyebrows and thin mouth offered no comfort.

“Alien animals,” he agreed.

Her moon eyes were huge. “What if they’re not nice ? What if they’re monsters ?”

Jachin gazed at me, pressing his mouth into a line. When neither of us spoke, Laurel did instead.

“We have weapons. We’ll be okay.” She clutched her rifle to her chest. When no one answered her, she looked to Deklan. “Right, Deck?”

Her intended hefted his gun high onto his shoulder. He’d entertain no more protests, not from us. “That’s right. Come on. We can’t just keep wandering around the wilderness forever. Our rations won’t last half that long.”

Jachin and Rebbe Davison shared a look. At last, reluctantly, Rebbe Davison nodded.

“Maybe he’s right—”

“Of course I am,” Deklan said. “Let’s go.”

With that, he turned and walked into the forest, Laurel hot on his heels. After a moment Rebbe Davison followed. And Jachin, too, after giving his head a slow, fearful shake.

“I hope this isn’t a mistake,” he said as he disappeared between the shifting black-bodied trees.

I hesitated, Ettie’s clammy hand still tucked into mine.

“Terra, I’m scared,” she said in a whisper. Her eyes were tightly closed, as if she could ward off any dangers she couldn’t see.

The truth was, I was afraid too. Halfway to terrified, in fact. The boy had given us a path, and here we were straying from it—heading deeper and deeper into the undergrowth. I knew I had to follow; I’d never make it to the city alone. I wasn’t strong enough or knowledgeable enough. I needed the others, as much as I hated to admit it. And that only frightened me more.

Still, I didn’t want to scare Ettie.

“We’ll be okay,” I said, giving her hand a gentle tug. “I promise.”

But as we headed into the forest, I wasn’t sure it was a promise I could keep.

But we didn’t find beasts in the forest. Not at all. Nor aliens like the boy, their bodies bending in the wind like reeds. What we found was even stranger: human voices, speaking Asheran, our native tongue. The low murmurs rose up from the forest behind a patch of shifting, snow-dotted trees.

“Her shuttle crashed northwest of here.”

“We’ll break camp after dinner and head that way.”

“People!” Ettie cried. She began to run ahead, her dark hair tossing against her shoulders. Calling her name, Rebbe Davison took off after her. The others followed. But I just stood there, frozen on the path, the gun clutched in one fist and my pack a saggy lump low on my back. My hands were slick with sweat against the metal barrel of the rifle. My heart beat hard. One of the voices was strange, new. But one spoke with familiar clarity. It was a woman’s voice, strong, commanding, without a hint of doubt. It was a voice that hadn’t cracked even when she’d struck her mother down.

Aleksandra Wolff. Aleksandra Wolff was here on Zehava. I cast my head back, as if the golden evening sky could offer me escape. It couldn’t, of course, though the trees reached their naked branches out like arms to embrace me. It was like they wanted to bolster me, keep me safe. Maybe I could have fled deeper into the forest. But the boy had said that there were animals there, animals that could harm me. Would they bring me greater harm than the people who sat in the grove ahead? My mind was spinning wildly; I couldn’t pin it down. I was still gaping up at the sky when Laurel appeared at the mouth of the clearing. The grin across her mouth was wide and toothy, like all her worries had been washed away.

“Terra!” she called. “Aleksandra Wolff is here! She’s going to save us!”

I stared at Laurel, at the gleeful smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. Of course. Laurel was a rebel—Aleksandra, the leader of the rebels. It was only natural that she’d be glad to see her. Not terrified that Aleksandra’s long, narrow blade would soon find itself buried in her belly.

“Terra?”

There was nothing else to do, nowhere else to go. I took staggered steps toward Laurel. As I walked, I held my gun against my chest, hoping that it would hide the way that my hands shook, and the way that I was unable to keep them still.