Brooke: An Under the Never Sky Story

Molly rises from the Dweller she’s been helping and comes over. She grunts a little as she kneels at my side. With the added work and the moisture in the cave, her joints are bothering her more than usual.

“They might keep a little down,” she says. “We have to hope for that.” She studies the Dweller before her—a girl my age—and her face softens with sympathy. The girl is delicate as a bird, with short black hair that spikes up like the leaves of an artichoke. Her green skin color only enhances the resemblance. Like that of all the Dwellers around me, her immune system collapsed. She looks ready for a burial at sea.

“Her name is Rune.” Molly runs a hand over the girl’s head, smoothing down her hair. “I spoke with her briefly when she stirred a little while ago. She’s one of Aria’s friends.”

I can’t believe she touches them. “And you’re telling me this why?”

Molly’s amber eyes find mine. She shakes her head slightly, but her expression is kind. “You could make more of an effort, Brooke.”

“I’m making an effort, Molly. Many efforts, in fact. I’m giving them water. I’m holding buckets while they retch. You know the boy? The burly one—Soren? He vomited on me ten minutes ago. Spewed on me. Look at my sleeve.” I hold it out, showing her. How much more am I supposed to do? I left my sister’s side to be here.

Molly watches me like she’s not sure if she wants to say something else. I notice the lines around her eyes. Her face holds a sheen of perspiration, a few heavier drops beading over her thin lips. She’s exhausted. She’s been here since the Dwellers came in. I wish she didn’t care so much about everyone. It’s sucking the life out of her.

Her attention shifts, her eyes twinkling with reflected lamplight as they take in the feverish Dwellers around the cavern. “You’re right.” Molly pushes a strand of hair away from her face and lets out a long sigh. “We need to find another way to handle this. I’d better have a talk with Marron to see what else we might do.” With a muffled groan, she stands. “You’ll need to stay here alone for a few minutes.” She hesitates. “Try to be nice, Brooke?”

“Sure. I’ll try,” I grumble, though I’ll do no such thing. People who try to be nice are false. They’re liars. You should never force your behavior to be a certain way. You should just be. Maybe it’s not going to be nice, but at least it’ll be honest. “When you get back, can I go? I want to see my sister.”

I can’t get enough of Clara. She’s changed so much in a year. Not just in the way she looks—taller, thinner, and older. She talks like the Dwellers now, all sharp-edged. She even moves like them, a little hesitant, a little poised. I need to draw that out of her.

“You’ll see her again soon. We all have to pull our weight around here, and don’t forget that it was the Dwellers who brought Clara back.”

“It was the Dwellers who took her.”

“Her abduction was more than just their doing.”

I can’t disagree with that.

Vale, Perry’s brother, was as responsible for Clara’s abduction as the Dwellers were. Even more so, since he was our Blood Lord. It was his responsibility to protect us, but what did he do? He sold my sister and he sold his own son, Talon.

For food.

Then he tried to frame Perry for it.

I’m not the only one of the Tides who still has a hard time accepting how crooked Vale was. It’s strange how you can know something—know the pointy, sharp truth—but still want to bend and blunt the edges so it fits better in your mind.

Molly gives me a wink and walks away, knowing she’s won our little debate.

When she’s gone, I kneel next to Soren. I found out from Molly earlier that he was helping Aria inside the Pod. I should dislike him for that, but he’s the healthiest one here, so he’s my favorite. Even though he soaked my sleeve.

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