Gently, Elena brushed his hair from his forehead as the hovertrain began to descend.
“Yassen,” she said softly. She touched his shoulder. “We’re here.”
With a screech, the hovertrain docked, and Elena glanced up to see another empty platform. When she looked back down, Yassen was awake, his pale eyes staring up at her.
The doors swished open. She felt a cold blast of air, smelled the fresh tang of pine and the acidity of metal, but she did not turn away.
Slowly, Yassen reached up. His fingers brushed her cheek, and she stilled. He ran his thumb along her cheekbone and then gently withdrew, holding up his thumb to reveal a thin eyelash, her eyelash.
“Make a wish,” he whispered.
She looked down at him, her breath caught in her chest. A wish? She almost laughed. What would a wish do in a place like this? But he did not break her gaze, and she could not tear herself away.
“I wish for us to survive,” she said and blew. The eyelash fluttered and disappeared.
He reached up, and for a moment she thought he meant to touch her cheek again, but he only pointed out of the curved windows.
“There,” he said, and she turned to see the vivid shades of the thick, lush forest. No rigs had infiltrated this part of the mountain. At least not yet. “The safe house.”
She nodded, and he sat up with a soft groan. He cradled his arm to his chest, and she saw a flash of bruised skin.
“Are you in pain?”
“Always,” he said.
“Your hand,” she started, but he waved her off.
“Let’s go before the train leaves.”
They deboarded and walked down the empty platform. An old merchant wrapped in fyrra fur sat behind a rickety stall. His coat made Elena envious as she shivered against the mountain chill.
“Looking to escape the city, eh?” the merchant called out as they neared. His visor bobbed as he spoke.
“Mountain air is good for any man,” Yassen said, “but I admit we’re poorly packed.” He pointed at the musty shelves behind the merchant. “Got any furs back there?”
“Oh, just two,” he said. “Though I do have one large overcoat perfect for you lovebirds to cozy up in.”
Elena blinked, her cheeks reddening as Yassen hastily pulled out his holopod.
“We’ll take the two,” he said.
The man scanned the pod and handed them two heavy coats. Elena pulled hers on; it was too big, but she hugged it close to her body to trap whatever warmth she had left.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“Watch out for the autumn snaps, mera,” the merchant said. “There’s been talk of brushfire. There was one on the other side of the mountain last week that got the soldiers jumping.”
“Brush fire? This late in summer?” she said.
The merchant shrugged. “They’ve been drilling more than usual. Accidents are bound to happen.”
“We’ll keep an eye out,” Yassen said. “Is there a place nearby where we can find a hot meal? Or brenni?”
“Follow the road,” the merchant said. “You’ll find the handler along it. Oh, and cinch them visors. The mines have been flashing lately, and they blinded a poor girl just last week.”
Elena’s stomach tightened as she recalled the lumbering tanks in the desert. The soldiers with their zeemirs. Light bounced harshly off the dunes; Jantari’s cursed metal would only worsen the effects.
“Have they found more deposits?” she asked nonchalantly as Yassen shot her a look.
