“Describe the headache,” Blane says.
“Like thunder is blasting off inside my skull.”
“Ever experienced that before?” Radius asks me, breaking his silence.
“Not exactly …” I’ve heard humming, not this, but the pain is too awful to speak.
“Lie on my lap.” Blane eases me down so that my legs are drawn up on the seat.
“That helps,” I moan.
“Good, shhh,” Blane soothes, “get some rest.”
Chapter 26
I wake to the sound of high-pitched yeeps and the sight of literally hundreds of Reds careening every which way around our glider. We’re in the middle of a red-winged tornado, hovering above The Greening landing strip.
“Watch out!” we yell to the pilot. “Don’t hit them.”
Without answering, he slows the vehicle and inches it to a shaky landing.
My headache still rages. Blane and Bea help me out while Radius and the pilot fetch our baggage. The pilot flies off before he even makes sure I’m okay. Which I’m not!
But it’s the Reds that truly have me alarmed. Besides the ones flashing by our faces, many more are skimming over the Fireseed field, whirling around and around, a militia of mythical, mad bees whose queen has abandoned the hive.
“It’s like they’re directionless,” Bea notes.
I cup my hand over my brow as I stare up at them. “Yeah, they normally flock to Thorn as their … well, their king. Wonder why they’re not seeking him out?” Is their connection broken somehow? If so, why?
“Their king?” Radius laughs. “That’s a stretch.” He has no idea, but now is no time for explanations. I need to see Thorn.
Overhead, two Reds collide in an explosion of wings and tufts. In a volley of high-pitched yeeps, they repeatedly dive-bomb and bite each other.
“Stop it!” I yell, as if I have any say over them. Now it’s not only two of them biting and snarling, it’s become an escalating skyborne brawl.
“They’re going insane like they’re ready to attack us.” Radius shouts over his mask. A distinct possibility if this keeps up.
Halfway down the path toward the school, Armonk runs toward us. He’s raised his bow to his shoulder as if he’s prepared to use it—to kill a Red? When he sees us he lowers it, but keeps on racing forward.
“What the hell’s going on?” Blane asks him. “Where’s Nevada?”
“The Reds have become mutinous,” he answers. “They won’t listen to Thorn. They won’t listen to anyone.” Armonk looks up at them with a frown. “It’s as if they’re rebelling. And Nevada? She’s been away for a few days. I thought she was with you.”
It’s unlike Nevada to check out. Something’s really off. “Are Vesper and Jan around?” Blane asks. “Have they been on good behavior?”
Armonk sighs. “As good as they ever are. They took off in one of the gliders.” At this, Blane shakes his head in disgust.
“Where’s Thorn?” I ask, racing closer.
“Sick in bed,” Armonk answers. “Can’t get a word out of him, he’s stopped talking.”
“Did you take him to Dr. Varik?” As I open the front door the Reds continue to swoop and dive, nipping at each other and at us. I bat one away that’s winging inches from my face.
“Not yet, he only came down with an intense headache this morning. No fever.”
“Headache—odd coincidence—that’s what I have.” It’s some relief to hear that Thorn hasn’t been in pain long.
I speed upstairs with Armonk, followed by Blane and Bea. Radius stays on first tier to sort out the luggage and cook up a meal.
Thorn rolls over to face us as we hurry in. His covers are rumpled. His face twists into a pained grimace as I sit by him on the bed.
“Thorn, what’s wrong?”
He doesn’t answer in words, only in movements. He shifts his head into my lap and folds up, arm-to-arm, limb-to-limb, like a Red fetus.
I jiggle his arm. “Talk to me, please. I can’t help if you won’t tell me how you feel.”
“I’ll give you guys space,” Bea whispers. “He might talk if it’s just you.” I nod, which prompts Blane and Armonk to pad out too, though I sense them hovering in the hall.
“What’s going on?” I comb Thorn’s tangled hair with my fingers and rub his back. “I’m so sorry I left without you. Did Armonk take good care of you?” I hear a pointed rustle in the hallway. Clearly Armonk doesn’t appreciate the question.
Thorn shifts his body so he’s gazing up at me. He unsquints his eyes as if it hurts to do so. “Armonk. Took good care.”
“Then wh—?”
“Sucking at my brain.”
“Sucking your brain! What’s sucking at your brain?” My pulse pounds in my neck.