Trett had come along in a boat, offering to pull her up and travel together, but she’d been thrashing in the waves for too long, all alone. It was all she knew. She’d panicked at the thought of depending on him, afraid she’d lose herself.
I gave up the person I loved the most so I could save the world. That would’ve made sense if he were trying to stop me . . . but all he wanted to do was help me.
As Ellin was mulling over that terrible truth, the alarm on her flex sounded. Time to get up.
She hadn’t cried since her first morning in the freezer, but with Trett’s face and laugh heavy in her mind, she was having trouble holding back the tears. Meditation would help, but this morning, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She clenched her teeth and blinked repeatedly as she washed up, used the chamber pot, and got dressed. Breakfast was next on her schedule, but none of the food looked appetizing. She crawled onto her mattress, buried her head into her pillow, and gave in to loud sobs.
That was her position when Merak’s fist pounded on the door. Ellin retrieved her eights, still weeping as she put them on. That done, she sat on the edge of the mattress, face buried in both hands.
She heard the squeak of the door opening. Then Merak’s voice reached her ears. “Oh no. . . What happened?”
Ellin tried to laugh at the ridiculousness of the question, but instead, she cried harder.
Then it was just like her dream. Merak came over and knelt in front of her and gathered her in his arms, holding her just tight enough, one hand on her head, the other rubbing her back. She melted into the hug, crying into his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I know this is hard. It’ll be better soon, I promise. I know you can’t see it right now, and I wish you could. It’ll be beautiful, Ellin. You just need to hang on.”
Those words, You just need to hang on, snapped Ellin out of the perfect peace she’d found in his arms. He was hanging onto her, controlling every bit of her life, from what she wore to where she pissed. Now he was hanging onto her physically, taking full advantage of the vulnerable position he had put her in.
No more hanging on.
Ellin gently pushed Merak’s chest with her bound hands. When he pulled back with a questioning expression, she formed her hands into fists and thrust them up, smashing them into his jaw. With a grunt, he fell back, his backside hitting the metal floor hard. He jumped up and turned away before she could see his reaction.
After grabbing her reeking chamber pot, he left the room without a word. When he brought the pot back, she’d stopped crying.
“I thought we were building trust, Ellin.” Merak turned away, but not before she saw the same blaze in his eyes she’d spied the first night they’d met. He strode out of the room without another word.
When she heard the door bar come down, Ellin waited for the eights to loosen from her wrists and ankles. They remained tight.
She spent the rest of the day hopping or scooting on her butt whenever she needed anything. Most of the time, though, she stayed in bed, fantasizing about beating up Merak and having world-class make-out sessions with Trett.
As days in this metal box went, it was a good one.
SATURDAY, CYON 30, 6293
-7 DAYS
Trett took a big bite of a Vegebar, chewed, swallowed, and took a second bite.
He hated Vegebars. They were made of dried elbow leaf, a variety of lettuce native to Anyari. It was as appetizing as it sounded. Fortified with protein, vitamins, and minerals, the bars provided a convenient alternative to real food.
Rona claimed to love them and had stocked the kitchen with them. That was a full week ago, on the day Ellin disappeared. Trett had been too distracted to argue with her choice.
Even now, he didn’t think it mattered what he ate. Nothing would taste good. He just needed calories and nutrition so that if—no, when—Rona had a vision leading them to Ellin, he’d have the strength to go get her.
He glanced at his flex. It wasn’t his normal breakfast time yet, but he’d been awake for hours. The little bit of sleep he’d gotten had been restless, and he’d finally given up all chance of getting comfortable. He’d offered the single bedroom to Rona, and he couldn’t help looking longingly in the room whenever her door opened. Her bed was narrow, but at least it was long enough to stretch out on—unlike the tiny sofa Trett was using.
Groaning, he stood and walked into the cramped bathroom. He splashed his face with water from the tap and dried off on a cheap towel they’d bought. He turned around, leaned back against the sink, folded his arms, and stared at the wall. Had Ellin willingly gone somewhere with Merak? If so, why hadn’t she told him or Rona what she was planning?
Because she’s stubborn.
He shook his head. He’d had this conversation with himself countless times over the past week. It was true; Ellin was stubborn.
But so am I.
How many times had he avoided telling Ellin he was hurt by her single-minded pursuit of one goal after another? How often over the last couple of years had he covered his resentment with smiles, jokes, and kisses?
He’d waited to tell her how he felt until the world was about to end . . . and he’d expected her to take it well?
Squelching a desire to punch the wall, Trett turned and left the little room. Back at the sofa, he threw his fist into a pillow instead. He wanted to go back to that conversation with her in the café and redo the whole thing. No, I want to go back to a million other conversations and redo those. Maybe if he’d trusted her more, she would’ve told him whatever crazy plan she’d come up with a week ago.
Trett ate the rest of the Vegebar with his eyes closed. It tasted a little better when he didn’t have to look at the blotchy, purply-brown color.
“I had a vision.”
Trett’s head snapped up. He hadn’t even heard Rona’s door open.
She walked in and sat next to him. Judging from the dark skin beneath her bloodshot eyes, he guessed she hadn’t slept much either.
“About Ellin?” he prompted. She’d had several visions confirming Ellin’s safety in that weird, metal room. She’d even seen Merak there. Infuriatingly, the prophecies hadn’t revealed Ellin’s location.
Rona nodded. “You won’t like this, Trett.”
His breathing immediately quickened. “Tell me.”
“Merak was holding her.”
“What the hell does that mean?” His voice had taken on a growling intensity that scared even him.
Rona’s eyes widened. “Trett—it wasn’t anything sexual. He was holding her like a young child. Like she was his child.”
Trett’s breathing had only gotten faster, and he blinked against his lightheadedness. “That doesn’t make me feel much better.”
“I know. I saw something else too. When Merak walked out of the metal room, it looked like he was in a vacant store. I think she’s in a walk-in refrigerator or freezer, Trett.”
“A vacant store? Where?”
“I don’t know; I didn’t see any windows or anything. Maybe I’ll see more next time.”
“You’ve got to contact that friend of yours. Surely she can pull up a list of vacant stores with walk-in coolers.”
“I already did. She said most government databases don’t go into that much detail. She’ll keep looking.”
“There has to be something else we can do!”
Rona looked down for several seconds, then returned her gaze to his. “We can pray.”
Trett let out his breath and looked down. He didn’t know when he’d grabbed the pillow, but he was twisting it so tightly, one of the seams looked ready to break.
26
SATURDAY, CYON 30, 6293
-7 DAYS
The day after she punched Merak, Ellin woke to the sound of the bar on the door lifting. Her jailer was early.
Merak entered and gave her a sad smile before taking her chamber pot out. When he returned, he sat on the edge of her bed, near her head, where neither her bound hands nor fee
t could injure him.
Leaning over, he gently took her hands in his, tsking at the chafing on her wrists. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tube of medicated salve. He placed the tube in her palm and closed her fingers on it.
Without a word, he left. Seconds later, the eights released, and Ellin stretched, squashing down the rush of gratitude she felt toward Merak for bringing her the medication. None of that. She’d use his salve and eat his food, but she wouldn’t allow an ounce of emotional dependence to develop. Not after what happened yesterday.
When she’d finished getting ready (a silly term; what was she getting ready for?), she sat on her bed and picked up her flexscreen. The IDM icon was blinking with a notification. It had to have come from Merak; he was the only one who could connect to this flex. She opened the message.
It was a confidential update on the dig. Ellin read that they were on schedule and expected to reach the isotope in six to ten days. Seven, to be precise.
The IDM described the experts’ plans for working with the isotope. Engineers had retrofitted current machinery to tame and harness the radiation’s power, and medical researchers had already planned their first round of experiments.
The sheer quantity of information was overwhelming. Ellin spent much of the day reading it. She dug into the complex material, sticking with it until she understood it. Her anxiety stayed more in the background than it had since she’d entered her metal cell. Lost in the thrill of learning, she had to repeatedly remind herself of the truth. We have a week to stop this. She went to sleep that night with the apocalypse on her mind, and the next morning, she woke with new motivation to beat Merak at his own game.
When he arrived, he was carrying a knitted hat. He’d guessed, quite rightly, that Ellin’s ears were cold. She swallowed her pride and put the hat on. Then she met his gaze and asked, “What safety precautions will the archeologists take when they remove the isotope?”
At first, Merak looked startled. After her brief attack two days before, he must’ve expected more hostility. Then his entire face relaxed into a smile, and he sat next to her on the bed, pulling out his own flex and showing her the equipment and personal protection they’d prepared for the few men and women who might come in contact with the isotope. His voice was loud and warm, his gestures flamboyant. Alvun Merak loved this project.
“If it were me,” Ellin said, when Merak finally paused, “and I know it’s not—but if it were, I’d suggest additional eye protection. Just in case.”
Merak’s eyes left the flex and met Ellin’s. “That’s a good idea.” He shook his head slightly, chuckling.
“So good it’s funny?” Ellin challenged.
“No—I’m not laughing at the idea, Ellin. It’s excellent. However, I thought you’d never come around. I’m glad to realize I was wrong.”
She continued to ask questions and give suggestions. Merak seemed to enjoy the conversation immensely, staying for over an hour.
When he left, Ellin grasped the top of her new hat, intending to pull it off. It was soft and warm, but it was one more reminder of her dependence on Merak.
She stopped. It’s not a symbol of my dependence on him; It’s a symbol of his misplaced trust in me. Her mouth curved into a small smile, and she pulled the hat lower on her ears.
SUNDAY, CYON 31, 6293
-6 DAYS
Rona sat straight up in bed. She’d had a dream. Nothing prophetic, just an old-fashioned, why-didn’t-I-think-of-that-before dream. She sent Kizha an urgent message and waited for a response.
Fifteen minutes and five unanswered messages later, she had to accept the fact that even Kizha slept sometimes. After trying unsuccessfully to go back to sleep, she crept through the living room, where Trett was snoring on the couch. She made herself coffee in the kitchen and returned to her room.
At last, when the sky was just starting to lighten, her flex buzzed. Kizha’s message read,
I’m so sorry. I fell asleep on the couch, and my flex was in my room.
Rona replied,
Can you video chat?
A few seconds later, Kizha’s face filled the screen. She was in her small living room, and her sleepy, green eyes lit up when she saw Rona.
Rona got right to the point. “Is there a way to send tracking software to someone’s flex without them knowing it?”
Kizha bit her bottom lip and looked thoughtfully off to the side before turning back to Rona. “I can’t embed software into an em or IDM; security scans would prevent delivery.”
“Oh.” Rona’s shoulders slumped.
“But there’s another way. If someone clicks a link in your message, the site they visit can download software onto their device. Still, it would take some sophisticated programming to avoid detection.”
Rona gave Kizha a small smile. “You up for some sophisticated programming?
“I’d love the challenge.”
“That leaves us with one more problem,” she said. “We’ll need contact information for the person I want to send the message to.”
“Who is it?”
Rona took a deep breath. “Arisa Merak.”
“Why don’t we contact Alvun Merak directly?” Trett’s eyes bored into Rona’s, his half-eaten Vegebar forgotten on the couch armrest.
Rona swallowed a bite of her own bar. “We can send a message to him too. His IDM contact is public. However, he probably gets hundreds of messages a day. He’s not likely to read an IDM if he doesn’t know the sender. We probably won’t even get past his filters. It should be much easier to contact his wife.”
She watched Trett run his hand through his short, brown hair and shake his head hard. Poor guy; he’d been a wreck since Ellin’s disappearance.
“So we’re counting on Arisa to open our message and then send it to her husband?” Trett asked. “And we’re counting on him to open it and click the link?”
Rona nodded.
Trett pursed his lips tightly and folded his arms. His voice was low and furious when he finally spoke. “We need a better plan, Rona.”
“I know,” she murmured. “I wish my visions would tell me how to find Ellin. This is the best I’ve got.”
He drew in a deep, loud breath through his nose, then exhaled the same way. “Okay. What are we going to send her? What’s she most likely to open and forward to her husband?”
“I was hoping you could help me think of an idea.”
They were silent for a few minutes, and then Trett’s back snapped upright. “Didn’t you say she’s religious?”
“Yes.”
A grin filled Trett’s face. “I hope your friend can help us digitally impersonate a Rimorian emissary.”
When he explained his idea to Rona, she nodded sharply, gritting her teeth against the stab of guilt in her chest. She didn’t want to use religion to manipulate someone, but she didn’t see any better options.
She and Trett drafted two messages, one to Merak and one to Arisa. Rona sent them to Kizha, who confirmed she’d found Arisa’s private contact information. Once Kizha finished setting up the tracking virus, she’d send the messages.
Rona grabbed two more Vegebars and tossed one to Trett. As she ate, waiting on Kizha’s response, she mulled over her recent shrouded prophecies. She’d seen Ellin and Trett fighting Merak. Ellin had to break free to make those visions come true . . . right?
Doubts besieged Rona. Ellin has been doing whatever she can to thwart my original prophecy. If she succeeded, she could have altered other aspects of the future too. In getting captured, had Ellin altered an immutable prophecy? Was that how she’d saved the world? The thought sickened Rona. I want her to succeed. But please, God, not at that cost.
After six excruciating hours, Kizha at last confirmed she’d sent the IDMs with the tracking link. She agreed that Alvun Merak was unlikely to see the message. They were depending on Arisa to pass her IDM on to her husband.
In Vallinger, where Arisa lived, it was the middle of the night. Despite that, R
ona and Trett both gathered around Rona’s flex, hoping against hope that Kizha would tell them their message had been opened. They watched one news video after another, and after a couple of hours, they started a classic film marathon.
Hours passed. They ate Vegebars for dinner and hardly spoke to one another. Trett took to pacing through the tiny space. Eventually, they both sat in the living room, staring at their flexes.
At two-thirty the next morning, Rona jolted awake from a short, unplanned nap. “This is ridiculous,” she told Trett. “If we find Ellin, we’ll need to be rested to rescue her. I’ll change my settings so that if Kizha contacts me, my flex will sound an alarm so loud, it’ll wake the whole building.”
Trett grunted in response and lay on the little couch.
Rona woke after several hours of sleep. Her flex was stubbornly silent. Somehow, she and Trett made it through that day. And the next. Kizha sent Alvun and Arisa more IDMs. According to her, the messages all remained unopened.
Three days before the prophesied apocalypse, Rona entered the living room. When Trett woke and she shook her head at him, he started sobbing. Rona was pretty sure he was crying too hard to notice she was weeping too.
WEDNESDAY, CYGNI 3, 6293
-3 DAYS
As soon as Merak entered her cell three days before the end of the world, Ellin burst into tears. It was easy to do; she’d hardly slept for two nights.
“Ellin,” he said, coming close, but not too close, “what’s wrong, sweetheart?”
She forced the words out, despite sobs and bone-deep reservations. “Please hold me.”
She was standing in the middle of the room. Merak glanced at her bound hands and feet, then scooped her up and sat on her bed, holding her like a baby. He rocked back and forth and whispered assurances, his own voice cracking with emotion.
The Seer’s Sister: Prequel to The Magic Eaters Trilogy Page 21