Page 24 of Under the Iron Sky

“He’s a good pilot,” Soraya replied coldly, watching Jinx work her way through the weapons. The limp in her right hind leg was back. Soraya made a mental note to get her back in the workshop when they returned. “Top of his class. He’s the right fit for the mission.”

“I know—but I appreciate it all the same.” Theron closed the distance between them and placed a hand on her shoulder. It took every ounce of self-control Soraya had not to shift closer and lean into his touch.

“Theron.” Soraya couldn’t suppress her groan. “Don’t.” Standing this close, it was nearly impossible not to be swept away in the oil and musk-soaked smell of his jacket. Probably not the most appealing scents to most, but it reminded Soraya of this base. Of home.

“Why?” He traced his thumb back and forth across the base of her throat in that way that used to make her knees wobble. In a way that would have done now, had she not strangled those feelings and pushed them far away. “We were good together, Raya. You know we were. Why can’t we give this another go?”

Really? He was doing this, now?

Searching for an out, Soraya jerked her chin over his shoulder, toward the brunette watching them with narrowed eyes from the cockpit of her craft. “I don’t think Lyra would like that very much.”

“I already told you that I don’t want Lyra.”

“And I already told you that I don’t want anyone.” It hurt to see the flash of pain in his eyes, but Soraya pushed on. She didn’t care how many times they needed to have this conversation, she would make him understand. “You know better than I do how quickly things change around here. You’re here one day and gone the next. It’s better not to get too attached.”

Takeoff went as smoothly as could be expected: a little bumpy, and one of the Sunrunner crafts did need a little extra help getting off the ground, but fine, all things considered.

Once out of the hangar, they quickly melted into an arrow formation with Soraya at the head, flanked by Lyra and another fighter jet, then four Sunrunners on either side, ending with Theron and his brother bringing up the rear, and set a path north to get as far away from their base as possible.

No one said a word as what was left of the Lumirel skyline appeared far to the east. They’d made sure to fly a good distance away from it to avoid being detected by anyone standing guard at the Tower there, but Soraya couldn’t help but take one look at what’d once been the heart of their planet. Death, rubble, and broken glass were all that remained of the Garden now.

They’d just reached the edge of the Fresurn Mountains when the clock on Soraya’s dash struck twelve and they began their climb.

Soraya’s craft shook terribly as they slipped through the first ring of temporarily weakened clouds, metal ringing in her ears.

“Is this normal?” one of the Sunrunners asked. Soraya wasn’t sure if it was her jet’s speakers making his voice wobble like that or his own fear.

“Yes,” came Theron’s clipped reply. “It takes a lot of power to keep the Iron Sky as strong as it is, so when the Towers are being restrung, the residual magic still takes some getting through. It’ll calm in a minute.”

It didn’t. The higher they climbed, the more the clouds resisted, shaking and pushing back until the belts crisscrossed over Soraya’s chest were the only thing keeping her from being tossed around the cockpit like a rag doll.

The turbulence was never this bad, and a particularly violent jolt had her grinding her teeth. The clouds felt more aggressive today. Angrier, somehow. Lashing out like a pack of vipers against the metal like they recognized the foreign material and were trying to force them out.

Each new wave hollowed out the pit in Soraya’s stomach just that little bit more, until she was struggling to quiet the voice in her head that questioned if the Towers really were being restrung today, or if every one of them was going to be squished into bloody pulps when they smashed against the summit.

Only one hundred feet remained until they broke the surface.

“Hold steady,” she told the others, pulling up on her gear stick. “We’re almost there.”

Seventy-five feet.

“We’re not gonna make it.”

Fifty.

“Yes, we are.”

A prayer began, one of the Sunrunners apologizing to the Sun Gods for forsaking them followed by a promise to help restore them to their mighty power if they let him live.

Thirty feet left.

Soraya closed her eyes.

Twenty.

Ten—

Complete and utter stillness. Then—