by Jacinta Jade
And standing within that small space … Siraay’s own self peered back at her—the same red hair, blue eyes, and pale scars over the left cheek.
Siraay froze for an instant, the fear that her mind had fragmented searing through her before she finally managed to take in the clothes.
Her replica wore a Resistance uniform. The old Siray.
Her former self.
Siraay lowered her hands, but her body remained tense. ‘Trying to scare me, are you?’
The former Siray raised an eyebrow. ‘Scare you?’
Siraay jerked her head over her shoulder. ‘Running around in the darkness, laughing at me.’
Old Siray looked at her for a moment longer before her expression turned to one of understanding, then contempt. ‘You still don’t get where we are, do you?’
Siraay glared at her other self. ‘Oh, I know. We’re in my mind. And I’m guessing that all I need to do to escape this’—she waved her hands at both the light and the darkness—‘is to get rid of you.’ This had to be like the dreams Siraay still had on occasion, where the old Siray pushed her off cliffs or attempted to kill her in other ways, causing her to wake up in a cold sweat.
The former Siray’s mouth drew to one side in a smirk that the new Siraay could read quite well. She’d used it many times herself—on Pyron, to indicate her amusement at his ignorance.
She took a step towards the old Siray, fully intending on carrying out her threat.
But the other Siray merely laughed at her. A light but derisive laugh. ‘We’re in our mind, you mean. But we’re not alone.’
Siraay blinked. ‘What?’
A long, high cackle sounded from close by in the darkness, and Siraay spun in the direction of the noise in unison with her other self.
It was a long moment before the laughter trailed off completely.
Long enough for Siraay to realise that whomever it was that was laughing was truly mad.
She and the old Siray now stood almost shoulder to shoulder as they scanned the darkness that swirled around the small, lit area.
‘What did you think happens when the mind loses itself during a Change?’ hissed the old Siray fiercely, without turning her head. ‘Sometimes you just stay as an animal—and sometimes the mind automatically locks on to the last form it remembers.’
‘We’re not a yeibon, if you haven’t noticed,’ Siraay whispered back angrily.
Her other self snorted. ‘By the Mother, I almost forgot how arrogant you are. No, you half-grown tree root—the mind can lock on to its last form, or it can try to find the correct personality template.’
Siraay frowned. Her mind hadn’t done that either. ‘And if it does neither of those things?’
The other Siray was quiet for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice trembled. ‘Then it creates something new. And in most cases, it doesn’t put the new version together correctly.’
Siraay felt her stomach getting heavier as she realised what her other self was trying to get at.
‘You mean, that out there, that is …’ She trailed off, not sure she wanted to finish the sentence.
But the other Siray did it for her. ‘Our there, somewhere, is a broken version of us. Not me, not you, something else.’
Siraay felt her skin go cold as another cackle broke through the darkness, behind them. A moment later, she heard it again. From another direction. ‘Not something else,’ she murmured in a horrified tone. ‘A Lost One.’
She and her other self moved back to back, not speaking as they shifted instinctively into the position of greatest defence.
Siraay felt like her eyes might water, so hard was she trying to pierce the darkness that still surrounded them. ‘What does she want?’ Her whisper was just loud enough that she could be sure the other Siray would hear her.
‘What you wanted,’ came the whispered but curt reply. ‘Control over our body. To live.’
Siraay swallowed dryly. ‘Can she do that? Take control, I mean?’ She felt her companion turn her head slightly behind her as she answered.
‘Possibly. There are enough of her kind to show that it’s—’ Old Siray broke off with a gasp, and new Siraay whirled.
To see a third version of herself step out of the blackness.
And smile.
***
The darkness seemed to curl around the lower legs of this newcomer as she slinked towards Siraay and her former self.
She felt old Siray stiffen and knew what memory this new version of them had forced her other self to recall. Could also access that memory.
About twenty paces away, this new version of them stopped and tilted her head.
Siraay had the impression of an animal assessing its prey—a dangerous animal.
Because, while the features and physical traits of the female across from her and her former self were the same, the way the thing positioned its body, the expression that held both interest, madness, and a predatory look, were something completely unknown to her.
‘What’s she doing?’ Siraay whispered.
‘You think I know?’ snapped her former self, the answer just as quiet, while the eyes of the broken one moved continuously between the pair of them.
Siraay felt fear stir in her and quickly quashed it. She was a Lady of Xarcon. And it was she that was to be feared. She stepped forwards, slightly ahead of the old Siray, asserting her dominance. ‘What do you want?’ she demanded of the third, keeping her chin raised.
The broken Siray tilted her head again, her mussed-up hair swinging to one side. She was wearing what appeared to be bits and pieces of various clothes. Some parts, like the green pants, despite being ripped, were clearly from a Resistance uniform, while the open black jacket definitely had a faded gold X on one shoulder. But the dirty white shirt and the band around the broken one’s forehead and bare but dirty feet were seemingly random.
And the scars on her face, the same ones across Siraay’s own cheek, somehow only added to the savage look of the female.
‘Want …’ The words came out of broken Siray in a drawn-out sound, with the t strongly pronounced at the end. Almost as if she was testing out the letter … or trying to imitate Siraay’s voice. The head tilted again—to the other side, hair partially obscuring the staring eyes. ‘Want to leave this place. Join others.’
So, the former Siray was correct, Siraay thought. This broken version of them would fight for control. ‘That’s not going to happen,’ she told the mad being before her. ‘I’m in control here, so you can just fade back to wherever it is you came from.’ Siraay saw her former self turn her head to look in her direction, but she ignored her as she continued speaking. ‘I already have this one to deal with,’ she continued confidently, nodding towards old Siray, ‘and I don’t need another personality hanging out in here.’ She straightened her spine, giving the broken Siray an imperious look, one that had caused Xarcon servants to flee before her in recent days.
But this third version of herself merely continued to look back at her, that curious and hysterical smile still on its face. A long giggle escaped the curving lips. ‘You will fade.’
Siraay felt her body go tense, a hot anger rising inside her. It was the same anger, the same driving force, she knew, that had helped her slaughter those Resistance members.
And it would help her destroy this broken female before her.
She began striding purposefully towards the third female. ‘You should disappear before I make you—’
Her words were cut short as broken Siray flicked out her hand lazily to deliver a flat-handed blow to Siraay’s chest, forcing all the air out of Siraay’s lungs and causing her to fly backwards two body lengths before landing painfully on her back on whatever constituted the ground in this place.
Winded, Siraay gasped for breath and, when she finally managed a calm, regulated breath, coughed and groaned at the new aches and pains rising in her body. What had happened? Quick steps in her direction made her roll quickly, lunging to her feet and into
a defensive position.
But it was only old Siray hastening across to her side, looking both concerned and amused. ‘So you’re in control, huh?’ her former self said, looking Siraay up and down.
Siraay only exhaled in response as her chest thumped painfully.
‘Shall we rethink that plan of yours?’ suggested her old self dryly, the female’s eyes flicking nervously towards their third self.
Siraay nodded, her eyes also snapping back to the broken one, who was watching them again with that inquisitive and slightly unbalanced expression. ‘I don’t understand, though—if she’s that strong, why doesn’t she just finish us off?’ Siraay couldn’t fathom an opponent who didn’t act on what their obvious desires were.
Old Siray pivoted to scrutinise their new enemy for a moment. ‘Because we outnumber her?’
Siraay considered the third female positioned across the small space. Regarded the wild face that still held that animal expression. Part her, part old Siray, and part … something else. Instinct? Maybe that was it. Animal instinct.
And animals knew when the odds were against them. And would be cautious until they were sure they had the advantage.
So, time was a factor, then. They had time until this broken, but much stronger, third version of them figured out that it hadn’t just taken Siraay by surprise with the blow to the chest.
‘Move,’ Siraay grunted at her former self and then began a slow walk off to the right.
‘What?’ came the snapped reply.
‘Move—keep circling her,’ Siraay whispered back. ‘The more we keep her thinking that we’re still a threat, the more time we’ll have.’
Old Siray didn’t respond but did indeed begin moving, her steps increasing the distance between them.
The odd smile on broken Siray’s face shrank a little, and her eyes moved at an increased frequency between Siraay and her former self as they slowly stalked around to either side of her.
Siraay thought that the unhinged female might back away, or reposition herself so that she could see both of her enemies.
Instead, she remained standing where she was, turning her head slowly between the two of them.
‘What are they doing, I wonder?’
At first Siraay thought the hissing voice was in her head, so closely did it echo her thoughts about the broken thing that she was slowly circling. But then, when the fierce whisper came again, Siraay realised who was speaking.
‘Trying to get behind … tricky things.’
Siraay felt her body go cold as the broken one continued her strange commentary, the wild looking female still unmoving.
Unsure what to do, Siraay kept circling, her former self doing the same across from her.
The broken one’s voice stopped its hissing and then continued on in such a casual manner that it took Siraay a moment to process its next words.
‘They want to play—so let’s play with them …’
Realising the threat, Siraay spun her body wholly towards the unkempt figure to her left, but it was with stunned amazement that she only managed to catch a glimpse of a back and two bare feet disappearing into the blackness.
‘Mother save us …’ Old Siray’s words could clearly be heard across the empty space that now existed between the two of them.
Siraay twisted her head to look at her former self. ‘Be on your guard. Who knows what—oomph!’
Air was forcefully expelled from Siraay’s lungs as her body was driven forwards into the ground by a violent shove from behind. She fell hard, her chin hitting and bouncing twice, causing her to teeth to bite through her lower lip.
A cackle sounded from behind Siraay as blood welled from her injury, and she somersaulted forwards, coming up onto her feet and spinning around swiftly to face her crazed enemy.
But once more, only darkness swirled there.
Siraay backed rapidly away from the blackness, retreating towards her other self. Just for an instant, she turned her eyes away, to check that old Siray was watching the other direction. ‘That escalated quickly.’
Her former self snorted. ‘You saw this going a different way?’
Siraay’s voice was ice as she glanced back at the darkness before her, then over her shoulder once more. ‘I know you don’t like me, but we’re going to have to work together on this.’
Old Siray spun towards her, eyes like fire. ‘So that you can take over my body again? I don’t think so,’ she hissed.
The other female began to turn away again, but a sudden gasp from her made Siraay whirl around. And even then, Siraay was only fast enough to watch a blur of motion strike out like lightning at her other self, before the fast-moving shape wheeled away once more into the blackness.
Siraay didn’t attempt to catch her former self as the female fell to the ground, her hands clutching at the right side of her face. Siraay stood still, hands on hips, looking down on the other as she remarked, ‘Still think you’ll survive this long enough to fight me for control?’
‘Mother crush you,’ snapped old Siray from behind her hands.
Siraay just smirked and watched as her former self lowered her hands. The skin on the female’s right cheek had been split open slightly from the hit, and blood was running down in a thin line over an already forming bruise.
Old Siray groaned as she tried to push herself to her feet, and when Siraay smugly decided to offer a hand, the other pushed it away violently.
‘None of this would have happened, if it weren’t for you!’ Old Siray’s voice was rising in volume as she stood up, swaying a little.
‘Really?’ Siraay just raised one eyebrow imperiously as she stared coldly at the other. ‘Are you forgetting that you would be just a soldier now, one of many enslaved in the Xarcon army, if it weren’t for me?’
‘I would rather be there than have my body used by you,’ spat her former self. ‘Would rather be with my friends—die beside them, as part of that filthy army—than be the plaything of a Xarcon lord.’ Old Siray was almost trembling in her anger. Anger based on a fear of what the female stood to lose.
Siraay felt her smile curl wider. ‘Oh, I’m not playing with Chezran. Not yet, anyway.’
The lips of her other self curled upwards in a sneer. ‘You disgust me.’
‘Please—what would you be willing to do to survive?’ She let that comment float in the space before them for a moment. ‘And remember—I am part of you. I just happen to be the stronger part. The only part willing to do what is needed for us to become what we deserve to be.’
Old Siray just shook her head, but she didn’t seem to have any more words.
A long, wild cackle sounded from another direction, and both of them snapped their heads that way.
‘We’ll sort this out later,’ promised the old Siray in a glacial tone. ‘But for now, let’s deal with her.’
Siraay’s eyes focused on a lean, red-haired figure strolling out of the darkness. ‘Agreed.’
The third figure broke into a sprint, and both Siraay and her former self threw themselves sideways to avoid being rammed by the strong body that dived at them.
Tumbling over the ground, Siraay spun as she came up on one knee, eyes quickly finding the manic smile of the broken one as the female slowly straightened up and began chanting nonsense in a singsong voice.
‘One, two, three, play with me. Three, two, one, both undone …’
If Siraay thought that the third version of herself had moved fast before, it was nothing compared to the speed with which the female employed now, the discrete actions of the broken one’s limbs indistinguishable as she leapt across the space between them in an instant. A hand of incredible strength snapped up to grip Siraay’s throat and lifted her off the ground, choking Siraay as her airway was squeezed.
But then another shape barrelled into the broken one from the side, causing the viselike grip on Siraay’s throat to be released.
Siraay dropped to the ground wheezing, her legs collapsing beneath her, but then her wat
ery eyes turned towards the scuffling pair. Staggering to her feet, Siraay made to take a step forwards to help her former self but then stopped mid-stride as a thought occurred to her.
They were both fighting. Both occupied. And if they were focused elsewhere …
Siraay closed her eyes, forcing herself to concentrate. Grunts and yells of pain intruded into her mind, so she squeezed her eyes tighter together, balling her hands into fists as she attempted to block out the sounds.
Out. She needed to get out. She was in control. She was the true owner of their body.
She felt her mind begin to drift and then felt a touch of something else … some other sense. Siraay grabbed on to it, and the sounds of fighting around her faded away as her mind rose up from the darkness …
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
SIRAAY’S MIND CONTINUED to rise, light growing around her, until, suddenly, she was standing in her room, looking out through her balcony doors at a view of a city in the middle of its afternoon routine. She sighed in relief, her shoulders sagging with fatigue and the realisation of how close she had come to losing everything. But she was okay. She had made it. She was the strongest. Or the smartest.
What did it matter, really?
Thinking that a relaxing bath was in order, Siraay shifted her head to call for Trelar, but instead gasped and spun on her heel, her body almost rocking backwards at the sight that met her eyes.
There seemed to be a crowd of people occupying her room.
‘What do you want?’ she demanded, rattled.
No one responded.
Siraay took a couple of steps towards them, drawing herself up and raising her chin imperiously in an effort to hide her unease. ‘I asked you all a question?’ she tried again, in a ringing voice.
Still no one looked at her. It was as if they hadn’t even heard her.
Then Siraay noticed that, while no one was looking in her direction, they were all looking at something off to her right. At something on her bed.
She frowned and moved towards the steps, annoyed and angered that no one had deigned to acknowledge her. As she strode across the room, her steps quickening with her irritation, Siraay realised that she recognised a few of the faces closest to the bed.