Flying Away (The Flykeeper Chronicles Book 1) by Caroline Gill

Author:Caroline Gill [Gill, Caroline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Runaway teenagers—Fiction. | Fantasy fiction. | Dystopian fiction. | BISAC: YOUNG ADULT FICTION/Dystopian | YOUNG ADULT FICTION/ Fantasy/Contemporary.
Publisher: St Helena Press
Published: 2016-01-11T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

The Price We Paid

Right into the St. Johns’ backyard, we fell. Holding each other's hands like Mal and I were pieces of that old game Monkeys-in-a-Box, we tumbled. My bandages tangled between us so we literally came through the flies' star like two unrolled mummies. A sweet silence fell across our ears as the intense heat of the summer desert faded slightly. The night was crystal clear. I could see the Milky Way cross the whole of the sky, its canopy sheltering me.

Mango nickered just beyond my sight. And then I heard people talking. Not someone I knew, either. It was a stranger's voice, low and gravelly. Mal shivered as his body hit the soft green grass. Then he lay there, staring up at the familiar stars.

I felt older. I felt broken and ripped apart. Traveling through the flies' pattern drained me. In my hand, I clutched a Soul Stealer's lantern. Now, I had the power to fix Eleanor. And then, save my father. That made everything worth it.

Mango wandered over to us, over to where we were spread in grass angels on the backyard lawn. Touching my horse's muzzle pulled me to my heart's true north. Her warm breath was the first bit of real home I felt in a long while. The pinto snuffled my hair and injured cheek. It seemed to really concern her, my injuries and my incredible appearance. Both of her ears focused on the sounds of my breath for a few solemn, glorious moments. Then, that unknown voice came again from inside the St. Johns’ house, inside the kitchen.

Of course, I would not know a friend of the St. Johns, having been gone so long. It was probably Mal's dad. I would have to meet him. I badly wanted to put off staggering back into Mal's house, injured. I really didn't want to see the look on his mother's face when she caught sight of the damage from the bomb. I could barely look at the damage done to Malcolm. But it was that very injury that caused me to gather what was left of my strength and push my body up from the ground, using Mango's bridle to steady myself. Mal wasn't well. That was the priority.

I patted Mango on the neck. “Good girl, good girl,” I muttered. She nickered in agreement. I chuckled, even in the midst of the emergency. Pulling the lantern after me, I stuck it behind two overgrown antler ferns on the side fence. And then I put a potted plant on top of it, for good measure. It looked benign enough for now.

Looking up at the stars, I turned around and walked to the back porch. I knocked.

The deep voice paused at my intrusion. My ears caught something about “Amber Alert” and “ongoing search.” Opening part way, a sliver of Mal's mother's face became visible. The relief on her face was so real it hurt. Her eyes widened at my appearance as she yanked the door

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