They could have just grabbed Orion, but in the last three weeks, they pointedly touched me every time we RJE’d.
As if the split second of contact meant something to them.
They were trying to show they chose me.
Like it wasn’t too late.
It was.
Fat droplets streaked drearily across the window, and I said cheerily, “I’ll keep you updated.” I pressed the glowing device.
Dr. Palmer shook her head frantically. “Please, don’t.”
“I will,” I whispered as I blinked and the therapist’s office disappeared.
Crack.
The air stank of wet dirt, regret, and secrets.
Location: the war camp.
Chapter 5
Aran
THE WAR CAMP
Brume （noun）： mist, fog.
I knelt on warm dirt as steam evaporated onto my face.
Pine needles rustled.
The new realm was colored in shades of gray.
It was depressing.
Hundreds of snow-frosted trees swayed as the therapy RJE fell silent in my hand. Condensation from steam froze across my face as I stood up.
The air was chilly, but I was colder.
A shiver racked my frame.
The tension from Dr. Palmer’s office still clung to my skin, and I concentrated on my surroundings.
All was hushed.
I’d assumed the base for a planetwide war would be enormous and filled with thousands of soldiers. That it would be loud and messy. Chaotic.
It was painfully quiet.
Only a hundred soldiers.
We were alone.
Abandoned.
I pressed my pipe between my lips and inhaled deeply, and it clattered against my teeth. Horse cawed as he circled through the snow above my head.
Squinting, I studied my crow’s feathers and tried to remember if they’d always trailed after him in such a long plumage.
He twirled lazily on a breeze and screeched his enjoyment.
I shrugged and blew out a cloud of smoke, my nose burning from the chilled air.
Glaring up at the towering white-peaked mountains that surrounded the valley, I pocketed the RJE device.
Thick snowflakes fell softly in the gray.
Storm clouds drifted through an atmosphere.
I inhaled smoke sharply and tried to forget that Lyla had lied by implication when she’d given our legions separate designations.
We weren’t here to lead an army of thousands; we were here to fight against a planet full of monsters.
We were here to suffer.
I exhaled and pretended the gods weren’t useless beings who’d abandoned us.
Snow drifted through the frigid air, then sizzled as it hit the hot ground and evaporated, and water hissed as it rose from the planet’s surface in a thick layer of fog.
Planet 003FX had an immensely hot core that heated the ground to around eighty degrees Fahrenheit and a freezing atmosphere.
At least, that was what the High Court’s informational packet said.
I said it sucked.
Freezing temperatures, perpetual falling snow, a foggy surface, and gray sky.
A boring place to die.
If I squinted, I could just barely see a tiny shimmer to the air. The High Court speculated that rare bioluminescence in the soil evaporated into the atmosphere and created the effect.
Since it was barely noticeable, I don’t know why they bothered to discuss it.
The kings followed as I walked through the war camp hidden beneath glistening heavens.
Snow-dusted trees camouflaged the camp.
I had yet to see any evidence of animals.
“Aran, you’re back.” John burst out of our legion’s designated bunker and threw his arms around me. “Thank the sun god, Luka’s in a silent mood, and he refused to laugh at any of my jokes.”
I didn’t point out that Luka was always in a silent mood; it was part of his charm. Instead, I inhaled the rich scent of sandalwood and slumped forward.
John held me up.
Snowflakes danced around us as our breath mingled in frosty puffs.
Our chests pressed together, hearts thumping in rhythm, I burrowed into his arms like I could crawl under his skin.
Disappear into his warmth.
“How was mandatory therapy? Are you okay?” John whispered in my ear.
I pressed my face deeper against his warm shoulder and groaned, “Horrible. And no.”
Arms tightened around my shoulders as he squeezed me three times in quick succession.
My heart stuttered.
I squeezed back four times as hard as I could.
His breath caught.
We both knew what it meant.
“Anything I can do to help?” John’s fingers gently tipped my chin up, and he brushed snow off my face.
“Beat me to death with a shovel,” I offered.