Horizon by Jenn Reese

Aluna’s shoulder, then jumped easily over to the next bed.
    Dash took the hammock farthest away. He always did this, always distanced himself from them when he was upset. Or — her chest tightened — was he angry with her for making them sleep? She couldn’t blame him if he was. She’d been so furious when she’d found out that Fathom had her sister, Daphine. Hoku and Dash had argued for reason and strategy, and she’d ignored them. She’d rushed off to fight her battles by herself and almost gotten them all killed.
    She’d made the right decision tonight; she just hoped Dash would be able to forgive her for it.
    When Aluna awoke, she found darkness still clinging to the trees and Dash sitting a meter away, cleaning the blade of his sword. Calli and Hoku were still asleep, and at least one of them was snoring.
    “I did not mean to wake you,” Dash said quietly. He was wearing his Upgrader leathers, the fake metal splint around his mechanical arm still in place.
    “You didn’t,” Aluna said. She could hear her pulse echoing in her ears. She sat up and dangled her tail over the edge of her bed. “Are you going somewhere?”
    “Yes,” he said. He finished wiping down his sword and hit the button that retracted the slender blade into the hilt. “I’m going back to the kludge.”
    “We talked about this last night,” Aluna said. “We can’t go back. They’ll never believe you and Hoku could extract us from so many Silvae.”
    Dash stowed his weapon in his satchel and secured the latch. He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, so he plucked a leaf from a nearby branch and began to shred it.
    “They will not believe all of us could escape, but they might believe that I could,” he said. “Just me. Alone.”
    Aluna swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “You . . . want to leave us?”
    He looked up at her, his dark eyes barely visible in the faint light. “No, of course I do not
want
to leave . . . all of you. But think about it —”
    “Your fathers,” she said.
    “The location of Karl Strand.”
    “And Vachir.”
    “And Vachir,” Dash agreed. “I could save people we both care about and perhaps finish our mission. Your plan was a good one, Aluna. I would see it to its end.”
    She looked away, pretended to study the dirt and grime stuck in her fingernails. “It wasn’t a good plan if it leads to this. To us not being together. We’re stronger as a team.”
    “We are an infinitely impressive team,” Dash said. “But my fathers left the desert to save me. I must do no less for them.”
    Aluna put one of her dirty hands up to her forehead and closed her eyes. Everything was unraveling so fast. Their plan was ruined. Vachir separated from the group, and now Dash. Losing him felt worse than losing her legs.
    “Please tell Vachir that I would have come back for her myself,” Aluna said quietly. She felt tears form in her eyes and kept her hand in place to hide them.
Weak. Useless.
This was not how she wanted Dash to remember her.
    “I will tell her, but she already knows this,” Dash said. “She trusts you with her life.” Aluna looked up in time to see a small smile form on Dash’s face. “I know how she feels.”
    “I won’t ask you not to go,” Aluna said, her voice gruff.
    “I know,” Dash said. “You have honor even when you wish you did not.”
    He leaned over and for one endless moment, Aluna thought he might kiss her. Tides’ teeth, she wanted to kiss him. To kiss him and hold him and never let him leave her side.
    She leaned toward him and pressed her forehead against his, felt his warmth soak into her skin, let wisps of his cool hair brush against her cheeks.
    “Be safe,” she whispered.
    “I will if you will,” he said.
    She stared into his eyes and felt the rest of the world wash away. If they saw each other again, she would kiss him. When their friends were safe, when Karl Strand was gone, when there was time for such a selfish thing.
    They pulled apart