Stitching Snow by R.C. Lewis

Author:R.C. Lewis
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781423187974
Publisher: Disney-Hyperion
Published: 2014-10-13T16:00:00+00:00

I pulled my hand away, pulled back to myself to catch my breath, and wiped away a threatening tear. It wasn’t the same as it had been with Moray, pushing myself, struggling to Tip him. My left-behind face hadn’t looked as blank, either. But it still took effort, leaving me with a heavy feeling in my limbs. It wasn’t natural like it had been with Mother, and that thought deepened the ache. Silence filled the emptiness inside me until I dared break it.

“And she never said anything about why she was leaving?”

A smile played on her lips at some memory. “No. Like I said, just that it was to make things better. I’d thought perhaps she was coming here to Gakoa to work in the governing complex. When I followed and couldn’t find her, I imagined she’d joined the embassy on Windsong. Was she one of those prisoners taken years ago?”

“She died before that.”

The smile faded, replaced by warm sympathy in her eyes. “I’m very sorry. I’m sure you miss her. I have, too.”

I’d felt that when I Transitioned to her. The ache in Laisa’s gut resonated with my own. Before I could admit it, her gaze shifted to something behind me, and I turned. A commotion at the far end of the footpath sent people stumbling. Someone ran full speed, heedless of anyone else. Nearly half a link away, but I recognized the jacket. Dane.

“Essie!”

I could barely hear his shout, but the tone pierced me—a tone holding all the dread of Dimwit telling me “wrong way.” I looked around and muttered some of Cusser’s favorite words; I’d been too distracted by stories and memories to notice several of the groundskeepers working their way closer to us. Six of them. One a very familiar Garamite.

Tobias had the look of someone wanting to collect a debt with interest.

I grabbed Laisa’s arm and stood, ready to run toward Dane and the safety of the governing complex.

“Not this time, Essie.”

Too late.

The “groundskeepers” dropped their gardening tools, and I spotted guns on their belts, ineffectively hidden by jackets. I knew they didn’t want me dead, so when all six came at me, I didn’t hesitate to lash out. Neither did Laisa, as she struck one of Tobias’s friends in the neck.

Maybe there was some truth to those rumors about Exiles all being fighters after all.

Six on two was still steep. Cusser tried to even the odds, engaging its new defense subroutine. It set two of its saws buzzing, keeping anyone from getting too close, and pulled a tack welder. As I gut-checked a man who swung for Laisa, I couldn’t help thinking I’d done a pretty good job with that little program.

Possibly too good. Cusser caught one of the men with the tack welder, burning a band of flesh along his thigh. The man screamed and swore—Cusser swore back. Then the man pulled his gun, twisted a setting, and fired.

I spun to dodge a right hook, so I heard before I saw. A terrible scratching squeal.

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