The Other Side of the Sky - Amie Kaufman Page 0,126
spring up from its grave. The old must make way for the young—it is the way of life itself.” She pauses, then adds with a hint of frustrated venom, “Or has your ‘technology’ conquered death itself?”
“Of course not,” I say quietly. “One day my grandfather will die to make way for my mother, and she will die to make way for me. But there’s a difference between that natural cycle of death and rebirth, and simply killing everyone in both our worlds.”
“Life is precious to me, North, more precious than you can possibly …” Her voice cracks, and she passes a hand over her face, regathering herself. “Why do you think we call our destroyer the Lightbringer? It is because he—because I—am light, for a people living in darkness. I am hope.”
“But it’s not just you, is it?” I ask quietly. “I’m the Last Star. And I’m supposed to play some role in this. Well, I won’t do it.”
I push to my feet, my muscles aching.
“North,” she says, voice aching with appeal.
I shake my head and take a step back. A shiver runs through me in the early light, and … and wait.
The shiver continues down at my wrist.
It’s my chrono. My chrono is vibrating.
I yank my wrist up with a gasp, and Nimh scrambles to her feet to try to see what I see. The same display I’ve been seeing since I touched down is still there:
But beneath it, there’s a new icon. One I’ve seen thousands of times, but never with a leap of my heart like I’m feeling now.
NEW MESSAGE
I fumble as I try to bring it up, my finger suddenly huge and unwieldy, my lungs tightening as if someone has their arms too tight around me. Please, I beg it silently. Please don’t be a glitch. Please, please be real.
Even if it’s just some momentary, miraculous millisecond of reception, a chance for just one message to download, it’ll be a glimpse of my old life that I suddenly, desperately need. It’ll be just a fraction of a second of normalcy. It’ll be a link to a place I miss with all my heart and soul.
My eyes are hot with tears as I pull the thing up, the message projecting above my chrono in the luminous green letters I’m so accustomed to.
There’s a map sketched out beneath the two lines of text, and it’s easy enough to make out the main features—the canyon and river we’ve been following, the forest, the temple back in the city, and the road in between. Farther east, there’s a flashing X that indicates my rendezvous point. All I have to do is follow the river to get there.
My head’s spinning, questions elbowing each other aside in a wrestling match. How did my people get down here safely? How are they going to get back up? How do they know this place well enough to draw this map? How did they know that I’m even still alive?
“North?” Nimh’s voice is taut with urgency—she’s watching my face, and I realize I haven’t spoken.
“It’s a message from a rescue party,” I blurt, keeping my eyes on the map instead of her face. “They’re ready to meet me, to take me back.”
There’s pain at the thought of leaving Nimh behind. After everything we’ve been through, parting like this feels wrong in every way.
But this Nimh, wreathed in deadly mist—I don’t know who she is. If I can stop her from harming Alciel, then I have no choice—maybe leaving will be enough, taking away part of her prophecy. If not, then my people will need to defend themselves, and only I can warn them.
“Back?” Her face is stricken, desperate. “No, we have work to do. We must do this together, North.”
“We aren’t doing anything,” I tell her, taking a step back. “I won’t help you destroy either of our worlds.” I’m sorry, I want to say, but I’m not—I can’t be. Not now.
“But …” She takes a step forward, lifting one hand, the mist rising and stretching toward me as if in echo. “Our destiny—”
“I don’t believe in destiny!” I snap. “None of this is real, Nimh! Whatever messages our ancestors left you, they’ve been twisted, changed over the centuries. No sane person wants to kill everything in existence. It’s not right. It’s not real.”
The words hang between us, her face as wounded as if I’d slapped her.