All this was going to be over once we rooted the evil out. Once we killed Ta’Zan.
“Yeah, I prefer being who I am now, too,” Araquiel replied, then put his arms out.
That was my cue to basically hug him, so he could fly us over to the next island. “I hate this part,” I grumbled, then wrapped my arms around his torso.
“I’m not a fan of it, either, but Rose was right. We can’t risk anyone seeing us. I’d rather fly low like this than get us in any trouble,” Araquiel said, then held me tight and took off.
My breath got stuck in my throat again—the adrenaline pumping through my veins was impossible to ignore. I loved flying, though I didn’t like hugging Araquiel in order to do it. Riding the dragon’s back… now, that was an experience I would’ve been more than happy to repeat!
We reached another small island, darting through the woods and keeping a low profile as we headed for its western shore. Above us, several groups of Perfects flew north like swift comets. We stilled, listening for any sound that might bring danger closer to us.
“Coast is clear,” Araquiel whispered, looking up, his ears twitching slightly. “They’re gone.”
“I wonder who they’re looking for, this far out from the inhabited archipelagos,” I mumbled, then kept moving, with Araquiel right behind me.
“Probably us. You. Your clique. The Draenir. Anyone else who’s aided Rose and Ben so far,” Araquiel replied.
“Lucky you’re dead, huh?” I asked, stifling a grin.
“As long as it works to our advantage, sure,” he said.
A few hours later, we were two islands farther to the west, swiftly dodging flying Perfects as we headed toward the winter-summer cluster. We didn’t say much to each other, but that didn’t last long.
“What will we do if we win?” Araquiel asked.
“That’s a good question,” I said, settling on the edge of a beach overlooking the tempestuous isles surrounding Merinos. We were close to our target location now. “I don’t know. There will be Perfects. There will be Faulties. And there will be Draenir. Three species who will have to learn how to share this planet, because I’m in no mood for a war over resources.”
Araquiel scoffed. “Besides, after what was done to the Draenir, they should definitely be given a special status.”
“I agree. They’ve been through enough.”
We both went silent at the sound of a distant boom. That wasn’t a Perfect flying, for sure. We followed the source until we saw the bright light and the ripple in the atmosphere, extending outward, as if a pebble had just been tossed into a lake.
“The shuttle,” Araquiel murmured, his eyes wide and twinkling with excitement.
He was definitely looking forward to meeting others like him—pure Perfects, as he chose to call himself. Clean memories, bright enough to understand who they were and what they’d done, and also capable of never willingly doing it again.
Indeed, the shuttle had breached Strava’s atmosphere. It was headed downward at a high speed, cutting through the clear skies like a shooting star. This was our moment, what we’d been mentally preparing for.
“Its trajectory seems arched,” I said, keeping my eyes on it.
“They must be forcibly steering the spell,” Araquiel replied. “Can you approximate a landing spot?”
I took a deep breath, then made several mental calculations, based on the axis and the speed with which the shuttle was moving. “About two, maybe three miles north of Merinos, if they keep it at that angle and speed,” I said.
“Uh-oh,” Araquiel breathed, as we both heard familiar sonic booms.
We looked to our right. A fleet of Perfects had spotted the shuttle coming in, as well. They flashed across the sky with supersonic speed, shooting stars determined to obliterate the shuttle. My heart was already racing. We’d known this could happen, but we’d both been hoping it wouldn’t. The universe, however, wasn’t going to let us have anything the easy way.
Araquiel gripped his pulverizer weapon and spread his wings. He briefly looked at me, frowning, before he set his sights on the incoming Perfects.
“I’ll meet you at the landing spot. I’ll deal with them,” he said.
“I’ll make my way there,” I replied.
There was no way for Araquiel to help me and draw the hostiles away from the shuttle, too. Lucky for me, I did have my native abilities to rely on. Behind my ears were two sets of small gills which only opened when I was underwater—something I shared with the Tritone, it seemed. I was a fast swimmer, and I could make my way through the water and between the islands in order to get to the shuttle. I’d chosen to fly with Araquiel because it was easier if we were together, and because his wings got us around faster than my swimming.
“Good luck!” I shouted after him as he took off.
I jumped in the water, my muscles instantly reacting to the liquid’s density. I shot toward the supposed landing spot, my legs and lower body wiggling as I moved. I could easily rival the pashmiri in speed and mobility while underwater, and I took advantage of this side of my hybrid nature.
Once in a while, I poked my head up just to check on Araquiel. He flew higher and intercepted the group of Perfects. I saw flashes of light as he moved around them and released pulverizer pellets. One by one, the hostiles were turned into clouds of gray ashes.
Closer to Merinos and descending farther, the shuttle was wrapped in its light bubble and headed precisely to where I’d estimated a potential landing site would be. We had to get there fast and leave the area with the four Perfects before more soldiers came in. Araquiel’s foes weren’t going to be the only ones.
I went back under and increased my swimming speed. I dodged the rocky island shores and the mangrove clusters, sneaking between gnarly and swirling roots and coral branches that seemed to reach out, eager to grab me. Banks of fish scattered away, frightened by my presence. Several predators noticed me. One even dared to come after me, but I swam faster and lost it.
By the time I reached the right island, Araquiel was nearly done killing the hostiles. I could only imagine the surprise they must’ve had when they saw him—not only still alive, but also killing them permanently. I felt the corner of my mouth twist into a devilish smirk as I ran across the beach and shot through the deep woods.
Seconds later, the light orb crashed smack in the middle of the jungle, about two hundred yards away. The ground shook beneath me, but I didn’t falter. Too much was hanging in the balance for me to fail in any way. Relentless by nature, I kept running as fast as I could. The hard ground hurt my bare feet, but the sensation was quickly soothed by the bed of leaves that had settled closer to the center of the forest.
By the time I reached the crash site, the light bubble had already faded, revealing a small shuttle at the bottom of a small, smoking crater. They’d made quite the landing, from what I could tell. Trees were leveled and charred, and hundreds of colorful birds croaked as they flew away—swarms of red, yellow, and green that scattered across the outer edges of the jungle.
I heard screams and wails in the distance, but I could no longer see Araquiel because of the tree crowns obscuring my view. I didn’t need to see him, though, to know that he was kicking serious ass and doing his job like we’d discussed. I had to admit, despite my initial loathing of him, I could definitely rely on the guy. It was time to put the past behind us, for sure, and shake his hand for his devotion and determination to do the right thing.
I was no saint, but everything I’d done was for the sake of my rogue Faulties, in my bid to help and protect them. What we were doing now, however, was bigger than all of us.
A pop and a hiss drew my focus back to the crater. I stopped on its jagged edge, the earth slowly crumbling beneath my toes. The shuttle doors opened upward, and out came the four Perfects we’d been expecting. They wore dark blue silken tunics, like their “untamed” brethren, and their backpacks were probably loaded with supplies and ammunition. Swords and short knives were mounted on their belts, and small metallic disks were strapped to their wrists. I’d seen those extendable shields before, on Rose’s team.
