Continuum

by Susan Wu

  “I’ll do anything,” I reply immediately.

  Izic leans back in his chair and rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger, contemplating his next words. “This is going to be a task unlike any you have undertaken. You will be placing yourself in great danger.”

  I make an exasperated noise, my father could be so frustrating. “Enough with the wordplay, Izic. Just tell it to me straight. What do you need me to do?”

  “I need you to help me enter Epir's dream.”

  A beat of silence stretches on between us. “How do I do that? I don’t even know how I entered Zefa’s or Ethan’s dreams. Or how I even got here.”

  “Sleep is probably the time when he is most vulnerable. His personal guard and his army are very loyal. We are lucky to get what little intelligence we receive. Psychometrists are master manipulators because they know exactly what you hold near and dear. Pair that with his sociopathic tendencies and we have someone who has garnered very loyal followers. His wife Umira is a very powerful shield, no one can get inside that head of hers. She protects his mind as well and I cannot get to him when he sleeps. But as practiced as I am, your natural ability outshines mine. Your mind is incredibly strong. You were able to travel hundreds of light years away to where Ethan was. You have to try. There is no other way I can get close enough to kill him.”

  I try to grasp the gravity of the situation but doubt is spreading in my mind, taking over my thoughts. “What if I can't do it?” I think of Zefa, lying crumpled on the grass. I think of Ethan, his chest pooling with blood. I think of Fyro, the sound of blood gurgling from his gaping throat. Failure would mean death for everyone I cared about.

  “It was easy for you to go to Ethan because you care about him. Sentient creatures automatically seek comfort during difficult situations. When you found Zefa, you were scared and you sought out the one whom you thought could help.”

  “You're missing a key element here--I was in those dreams by myself. How will I bring you into Epir's dream?”

  “I speculate that once our minds are connected in the dream state, we can stay together since our abilities lie in the dreamworld. The difficult part will be entering Epir's dream. Umira will have set up traps inside his mind, it will be incredibly dangerous.”

  “What do you plan on doing then? If we actually get in?”

  “You and I know all this is not real because you are a weifarere and I am a conduktr. Our minds know this is not real but our bodies do not. When you die in your sleep, you die in real life as well. It is the our only chance.”

  I allow myself a flicker of hope. I could help Izic kill Epir and end this war, “Can it really be done? Have you tried?”

  “This is an unusual circumstance, I’m not sure--”

  Abruptly, the room and Izic are barreling away and I have the oddest sensation of falling away from the room like I’m being plucked away. I open my eyes with a gasp, light flooding in from the high windows. I cringe and place my hand in front of my eyes to block the streaming light.

  It takes me a moment to realize I am back in my dollhouse prison. Umira is standing over me, her eyes are narrowed violet slits and her bright red lips are pursed as she peers down at me. She taps her heel impatiently.

  “Get up. Epir wants to see you. Now.” She keeps her tone even, but starts to pace back and forth along the short length of the room, her heels clicking loudly on the floor.

  Obediently, I push myself into a sitting position and swing my legs over the side of my bed. As I pull on my boots, her body is positively shaking as she twists a lock of her long hair nervously. She is frightened. Something is happening.

  Umira and the usual group of guards escort me out of my room. They are dragging me so quickly through the now familiar staircase that my boots barely touch the ground. My brain is on high alert, recognizing the hallways as we make our way to Epir's office. I can't help but notice Umira's growing agitation as we get closer. Before the guards shove me through the door of the office, I watch Umira disappear behind a door further down the hall.

  Epir is sitting at his desk, his elbows resting on the surface and his fingertips pressed together in front of him. Contemplative, like the first time we met. His gray eyes assess me in a calculating manner and I force myself to stare impassively back at him even though every fiber of my body is screaming for me to run. The last time I was in this office, he ripped out his half brother’s throat.

  Epir seems perfectly at ease, a complete contrast to Umira’s frazzled behavior. A sly smile forms on his lips as I enter the room. “Please, sit down Fallon. There is much we need to discuss.”

  Warning bells go off in my head. Epir’s eyes don’t leave me and his smile doesn’t waver. His smile makes me feel queasy. Taking a tentative step forward to the white chair, I take a quick scan of the office. It is once again spotless and pristine, not a drop of blood marring the perfect whiteness of the room. The other white chair has either been cleaned or replaced since I was last in here. My heartbeat picks up as I sit down in the same chair as last time.

  He rolls his chair forward, perching his body at the edge of his seat closing the distance between us. Leaning his elbows on the floating desk, he closes in even closer until our faces are inches apart. My natural instinct is to flinch away, but I force my body to stay perfectly still. I can feel his breath blow across my face as he speaks. “Do you know what I am, Fallon?”

  “A coldblooded killer,” I deadpan.

  Smirking, he continues to regard me evenly, “You know what your problem is?”

  “I’m being held captive by a manic who intends to kill me?”

  His gray eyes darken and his lips twist, “You have your father’s high bred morals. I am so much more than just a killer.”

  I stare ahead silently as he leans back in his chair and continues, “Do you know what I am capable of? What you have witnessed is not even a fraction of what I can do. Your father has disrespected and disappointed me. I invite him to come to my first state dinner as King of the Eku but I do not get as much as a response!”

  The facade of careful control falls apart as his anger boils over. His rage is palpable, a vein popping out of his forehead as his face slowly turns puce. Epir is clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles turn white. “Your father and I grew up together as brothers would. When we were young, I thought he might have even looked up to me. But now he treats me like this. Are we not equals?” He pounds his fist on the desk to punctuate his point and its contents rattle loudly in response.

  Pushing back from the desk, he gets up from his chair and starts pacing around the room. I never take my eyes off him having witnessed his unpredictable behavior firsthand. He perches himself on the desk and leans forward, our bodies inches apart. My instinct is to flinch back but I lock down my muscles and stay motionless in my chair. Slowly, Epir reaches inside his suit jacket and my heart starts to beat wildly against my ribcage, my breathing coming out too fast and shallow.

  “Do you recognize this?” Dangling from his fingers is a delicate silver chain with an intricately carved wing. My heart stops as my necklace swaying back and forth between his fingers. Instinctively, my hand reaches for my bare throat. “Fallon, I really need your help. Do I have your attention?”

  “What do you want from me?” Now my brave facade cracks and I can’t keep my voice from shaking. My mind is filled with visions of Ethan, the life fading from his eyes as I hold him in my arms. Izic was right about Epir. He would hurt everyone I ever cared about to get what he wanted.

  Epir holds the necklace up to the sunlight and swings the wing back on forth on the chain, inspecting the charm. “I grow weary of this game with your father. I need to bring him here. We need to put an end to this.”

  “How can I make him come? He already knows I’m here. Izic won’t negotiate with terrorists.”

  “Izic knows me too well. He will not come because he knows I will kill you upon his arrival.” At the casual mention of my imminent death, Epir slides off t
he edge of the desk. He starts pacing around the room again, sliding the necklace from hand to hand. “I think the only fair thing to do is an exchange. Your life for his. After all, this is not your war. I need you to convince Izic that I will not kill you, instead I will honor this exchange.”

  “Do you expect me to believe that as well?”

  Abruptly, Epir slaps me across the face sending my head snapping back. His eyes are wide and his nostrils flared and I bite back my scream. Sticking his open palm under my eye line, he reveals the little silver wing nestled in his hand. His jaw tense, he spits out through clenched teeth, “Did you forget that it is not only your fate that hangs in the balance?”

  Jumping out of my chair, my own anger rolling off me in waves, I am practically nose to nose with him, “You might as well kill me now.”

  “Do not cross me, Fallon. I know what you hold dear. I can and will take everything you treasure away from you. And when you have nothing left... only then will I take your life.” He straightens his suit jacket and smooths a strand of hair that has fallen out of place from his show of rage. “The guards will take you to Umira. She will help you dictate the message to my liking. Then we are going to record Izic a little message. Do we have an understanding?”

  I glare at him for a beat longer and then step back and sink into my chair, my fingers gingerly touching my tender cheek. After a moment, I pull my hand back, examining the bright droplets of red staining my fingertips. I meet Epir's tense stare and slowly I nod my head in agreement. What choice did I have really? Epir's shoulders seems to relax as he presses the button for the guards to enter. The guards silently yank me out of my chair and escort me to the room I saw Umira entering earlier.

  The size and layout of the room are similar to Epir's office, but the décor is very different. Whereas Epir's office is clean and efficient, every square inch of this room is elaborately decorated. An ornately carved wooden desk sits on an animal skin rug. Umira is sitting at the desk, looking at me expectantly, in a delicate high back wooden chair with the same carvings as the desk. She nods to the chair across from her, “Please sit. We are going to record a little message to send your father.”

  Without glancing down, I sit down on the chair she offers. I cannot tear my eyes from the walls of the room. The main focus of the room lines the white, shellacked shelves built into the walls. Each shelf is each lined with porcelain dolls wearing elaborate little dresses of various styles. Hundreds of staring, unblinking eyes.

  After recording the message I hope Izic will ignore, I am back in my gilded cell. What the hell would I do if the exchange actually took place? Epir would certainly kill Izic and I would ascend. I know nothing of leadership but I guess that is the point. Epir expects me to abjure my title. That or he would just kill me later.

  I oscillate between panicking, pacing, and plotting. I only have a vague idea of how much time passes as the sun travels across the windows of my room. The restlessness and anxiety gnawing at my mind like a rat clawing to escape. My unease makes me manic. I’m alternating between laying on the bed and staring comatosely at the ceiling and wanting to pound on the steel door and scream at the top of my lungs.

  I am off the bed and pacing again, ending up in front of the dressing table. Settling in front of the mirror, I study the tender, yellowish-blue bruise that has bloomed across my face where Epir struck me. In the center of the bruise is a small cut on my cheekbone where my necklace cut my face. The colors are livid against my too pale skin.

  That burst of anger was only a fraction of what he is capable of. I am not worried about myself. For now, I would be safe. The image of my silver necklace swinging from his fingertips plays over and over again in my mind. I jump back up from the chair and start pacing the room again.

  It feels like an eternity before night finally falls. I know what I have to do now. I have to seek out my father. Settling into the bed, I try to relax. I close my eyes and for once, I pray for the dreams that come with sleep.

  There is only one way for this to end.

  Blood for blood.

  I stand in the darkness. Well, that is not quite what this is. My eyes see nothing, my lungs draw in nothing, my feet touch nothing. In this strange place, I am suspended between between dream and reality. Waiting and waiting. There is only the sense of time slipping away as I wait for my father. The awareness makes me feel in control for once. In control on this side, anyway.

  My waking hours could not be any more out of my control. The darkness suddenly recedes and I am standing in my living room back in Everest Heights. Izic is standing across from me, his arms crossed over his chest and his expression solemn.

  “I received the latest message they forced you to record.” His eyes study the bruise on my face and then his expression softens. “I am sorry that I cannot stop them from hurting you.”

  “Don’t worry about my face, Izic,” I reply dismissively. “This is only the beginning of how they will hurt me if you don’t stop them. Epir knows about Ethan.” I try to sound calm but the panic leaks through.

  Izic closes his eyes and starts rubbing the bridge of his nose, “I knew it would not be long before he found out. This certainly changes things.”

  I nod in agreement, “I think the time to act is now.”

  He sighs, stroking his chin with his thumb, “I agree, Fallon. I am afraid time is running out. Epir will not be satisfied with mere threats, he is going to lash out.”

  “Since Epir can’t get to Ethan, he might try to go after his family next. I don’t want anyone to get hurt or worse because of what I am. We have to act now.”

  “Are you ready to do what I have asked of you?”

  “Yes, I'm ready.”

  Sadness seeps into Izic's expression and he once again looks like the weight of the universe is on his shoulders. “What I am asking of you... it is a great responsibility to bear. Greater than any warrior, any army that I command. If we fail tonight, you will not survive to see another dawn. If we succeed tonight, I fear you might still meet your end.”

  “Nothing will stop Epir from his quest for vengeance. I understand the consequences of what we're attempting.” I close my eyes briefly, sending a silent goodbye to Ethan.

  “You are a child of two worlds, belonging to neither. I had hoped there would be more time for you to find your place.”

  I smile weakly at my father, “I have found my place, Izic. Promise me, you’ll take care of him. Tell Ethan I love him... that he helped me find my wings. And that his love set me free.”

  Izic places his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently. “I swear on my honor, I will keep Ethan safe when you are gone.”

  This is really going to happen. Blood for blood. This will devastate Ethan. I just hope that one day he will be able to forgive himself and move on. The knowledge that this will keep Ethan safe gives me enough strength to do what is needed instead of falling apart.

  My father’s voice is gruff when he speaks again, “Let us end this now, Fallon. Our time is limited. Another dawn is on the horizon.” As Izic turns away, the light catches the glimmer of a teardrop on his face.

  I look away as the room shimmers and suddenly we are standing in the forest beyond the Eku palace wall. Izic grabs my hand and starts leading me through the thick grove of trees. His direction out of the forest is a straight, unwaveringly line. He releases me once, we reach the high walls surrounding the palace. My eyes travel up and up and up-- the wall must be at least 25 feet high and made of a flat, smooth metal. The hum of electricity surging through the walls is palpable.

  I turn to Izic to look for instruction but his eyes are squeezed shut. He drops to his knees and places both his hands on the wall. I expect him to be promptly fried to a crisp, but instead his jaw is strained and sweat is rolling down his brow from exertion. As I watch, a hole begins to form in the wall like acid is eating away the metal. He stops when the hole gets large enough for us to crawl through. I make sure to stay very flat on my stomach so that no part of m
y body touches the still humming wall.

  Izic brings his finger to his lips to keep me quiet as I'm about to ask him if he knows where to go next. Soundlessly, we cover the ground until we're pressed up against the stone wall of the palace. Once again, Izic presses his hands against the wall. The stone simply crumbles away from his hands.

  In the dim glow of lights inside the palace, Izic looks tired, his pallid skin covered in a sheen of sweat. All the mental maneuvering has taken a physical toll on him. He traces a small square on the wall and a black panel appears on the blank space. Izic presses his left wrist to it and a door appears on the seamless wall. It slides open silently, revealing a long staircase. He leads the way into the darkness.

  The stairs spiral upward and I realize we must be in a narrow staircase built inside the thick walls of the palace. The thundering of my heartbeat floods the tiny space. With each step, I can sense Epir's presence and the creeping fear that comes with it flooding my veins. The atmosphere seems to be thinning the higher up we go and by the time we reach the top step, my breath is shaky and my head is spinning. Izic reaches out and wordlessly places his hand against my face. I place my hand over his and squeeze it, my goodbye stuck in my throat.

  Izic stands on the top step, examining my face doubt in his golden stare. I look at him a moment before whispering, “I'm ready.” He nods once and turns away. The outline of a door forms on the smooth surface of the wall and Izic pushes it open. He enters the room but closes the door before I can enter, leaving a sliver for me to see through.

  “I have been waiting for you, Izic. I wondered when you would finally show up. I was beginning to question whether you loved your daughter at all. There is much we need to discuss,” Epir is sitting in an oversized black armchair, his fingertip tracing the gold rim of the glass in his other hand. He calmly takes a sip of the amber liquid in the glass before setting it down on a wooden end table.

  Izic spreads his hands in front of him and tilts his head to the side in a bow of sorts, “I apologize I could not make it sooner, Epir.”