“Your machine said so. It couldn’t detect them,” I whisper, and the words pour from me before I’m even sure I’m going to say them, sure that I’m going to go down that line. “I’m empty. I can feel it, Raleigh. I’m no longer a Seer.”
I wait for him to contradict me—to say he can still feel that I am a Seer, because part of me wants to hear it—and a thousand voices start screaming inside me. I want to shake, to cry, to panic. No longer a Seer? Can I feel that I’m still a Seer?
And…and I… I don’t know.
But if I’m not it solves everything… I’ll have no conversion powers.
But it can’t be as easy as this.
“Seer powers cannot be taken away,” Raleigh says. “The Gods and Goddesses can only block our access to the Dream Land. Tell me, Shania. Do you really think that they’d let me have my powers when they do not like the Chosen Ones? They are misguided, like the Untamed. But if they could take them away, they would. No. Your powers are still there. But something has blocked them. That’s why the chair couldn’t detect any. They’re blocked. But only temporarily… But not your doing?” A strange look passes over his face, and then I see his knuckles pale as he clenches his fists. “Weak Untamed,” he mutters, then he points at me. “Come with me.”
I have no choice, because he makes me.
Raleigh takes me back to his office, sits me down in the same plush blue chair. He sits in a matching one that wasn’t there before. He stares at me for a long time. A long, long time. And he doesn’t exert any control over me, because I’m free to turn my head, to take in the furnishings of the room—there are lots of paintings here now. All new ones that have been put up since the last time I was here. With a jolt, I realize they’re all of Jed.
Jed.
And he looks just how he did last night. I shudder.
“I know what’s happened,” Raleigh says slowly.
“What?” I keep my voice as even as I can.
“Grief. Grief is stopping your powers.” He nods at the nearest painting of Jed. “A delayed reaction, possibly brought on by seeing Jed’s body before, but still delayed, perhaps because of the recent sickness. But now this grief must be blocking your Seer powers.” His lips press together for a long moment. “And you are letting it. Shania, grief is a negative emotion. I know if you were able to tolerate our life-juices, you’d be free of it in an instant. But you must work hard to overcome this grief. Grieving is selfish.”
“Selfish?” I stare at him. All around the room, many Jeds watch me. I feel strange. Why’s Raleigh put the paintings up now?
“Yes. It is selfish. You’re letting your grief block your powers. The new augmenters will be ready soon, and if you’re still grieving then, you’ll be letting everyone suffer when they could be saved. So, let’s talk.” He leans back in his chair.
“Talk?”
“Talking is a good therapy. Expressing yourself—how you feel, how much you miss your lover—it’ll help you accept the fact he’s gone. Help you get over your grief.”
“My lover?” I stare at him, shocked. “I’m not grieving for Jed. I never even liked him.”
He tuts. “Well, that’s harsh. He was your betrothed. No, Shania. You must be hurting. Hurting so much that you’ve hidden it away, that you don’t even know yourself. And being in this Untamed state once more has made it build up so much worse. There’s so much pain and negativity inside you. I will have a word with my lab technicians—see if anything can be done to speed up the creation of new augmenters. They must’ve isolated the reactive ingredient by now. So, come on, talk.”
Raleigh stares at me expectantly and grips his chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“Talk about Jed?” I fold my arms.
He nods.
“Talk about your son? The one you murdered?” And I don’t know why I put so much of a load into my voice, why it feels like I’m trying to get a reaction from him. What do I expect to see? A moment of remorse? Genuine emotion? That’s almost laughable.
“Yes,” Raleigh says. “Tell me about him.”
I shudder. “I don’t want to talk about Jed.”
“But you need to. Your soul needs you to cleanse it. Get rid of your grief, Shania. Open up to me.”
“No. I tell you what would help. A better room, with a window. A proper bed. Lack of sleep makes grief worse. Lack of sleep makes everything worse.” And as soon as I’ve said the words, I think of Jed. How he was sleep-deprived because he was sending kavalah spirits to me as I slept, making them block my Seeing dreams. I continue quickly. “And I want to have fresh air when I can sleep. A window that opens.”
“Not this again, Shania.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Have you sorted one out? A nice new room?”
“I am in the process of doing it.”
He is? I lean forward. “I’ll tell you what else would help me cope with my grief. Going outside.”
“You’re not going outside.”
“I want to run. I’m a runner. I need to run.”
He smiles softly. “I’m not falling for that.”
“Exercise helps. It produces endorphins. It’ll make me feel better. Make my powers come back.” I smile slightly. “And that’s what you want, isn’t it?”
Raleigh leans back in his chair, and the way he sits—the angle—shows off the powerful nature of his body. For a moment, I feel intimidated, weak.
“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” A smile graces his lips.
“How about you let me see my friends?” I continue, but my voice is getting higher now. “That will cheer me up.”
“I can’t allow that,” Raleigh says. “Not while you’re Untamed. I am sorry. No. We’ll have to stick to talking, talk the grief out of you, try to loosen the hold the Untamed parasite has on you. But I will find you a new room. I promise. And perhaps you should see Dr. Andy. He specializes in old-fashioned medicine, pre-augmenters. He did the facial surgery on your brother. But he also has knowledge on anti-depressants.”
I sit up straight. “I’m not depressed.”
“I want him to assess you—now, in fact. Perhaps traditional medicine will help. You need your Seer powers back as soon as possible.”
Dr. Andy is a strange-looking man. Ironically, he obviously uses augmenters to change his appearance; no one’s nose is that small when their ears are so big. He even looks like he’s having trouble breathing through his pinprick nostrils.
He sits me down on a hard, wooden stool, then walks around me, slowly. Each step is deliberate and planned—as if he’s worked out his movements prior to our meeting.
Suddenly, he turns. “You are staying, aren’t you?” he barks out—in a very low-pitched voice—to the two Enhanced who brought me here, under Raleigh’s directions. “I don’t want to be alone with one so inclined to violence as…as…” He looks at me. “As Shania in her wild Seven mindset.”
I snort. Of course the other Enhanced are staying. Raleigh gave them strict instructions.
I watch Dr. Andy as he circles me twice more. Each step sounds like a slow countdown.
“How are you feeling?” The tip of his nose goes ever so slightly pink.
“Fine.”
He takes a step back and tilts his face up. “You’re not feeling at all violent?”
“Should I be?” My tone is sardonic.
“Untamed creatures are writhing with negative emotions. Their biggest desire is to injure and kill one another.”
“Not one another,” I say. And I can’t help myself. “Just you.”
He sucks in his breath, but, just when he’s about to look worried, his face relaxes and he smiles. A sudden transformation. Eerie.
“Raleigh has informed me you are deep in the stages of grief. Would you like to tell me about it in your own words?”
“No.” I swing my legs back and forth, look toward the door. It’s open—apparently it stays like that as doctors’ rooms need to look inviting. One of the Enhanced, on the way here, told
the other that he was thinking of dropping into Dr. Mara’s surgery to request stronger augmenters. Thinks he needs grade three in Calmness, rather than grade two.
I wonder how fast Dr. Andy and the other Enhanced in here are at running.
“Talking about grief—expressing yourself, your true feelings…even if they are bad and Untamed, is the first way to overcome it. To make you feel better. And you don’t want to be feeling all this negativity, do you?”
“I’m not feeling any negativity.” My eye is still on the door. I try to remember the way we came, but there were lots of twists and turns. There was also a security door, and I tried to see the number the Enhanced typed in, but he deliberately blocked it from my view. If I ran, I’d probably only get as far as that door. And then Raleigh would punish me.
“Denial won’t help you,” Dr. Andy says. “It’ll just make you feel worse in the long-term.”
One of the Enhanced by the door clears his throat. “There isn’t going to be a long-term though. The lab’ll have suitable augmenters done soon. Dr. Treena said they’ve almost got a new prototype done. They just need to test it.”
Test it? The muscles in my face slacken.
Dr. Andy smiles. “And our job, my…my dear, is to make sure you are as comfortable as possible—as happy as possible—until we can truly save you. Letting you suffer as you are, without us even trying our non-conventional methods would simply not be fair. Not fair at all. So, please, do tell me how you’re feeling. Be honest. Even if you are falling into the dark river of tears, talking will help. I will pull you out of the water, drag you to the side, dry you in the sun myself, if I have to.”
My lips twitch, and I bite on my bottom one, try to keep a straight face.
“Inadvertent and inappropriate reactions—such as laughing—are perfectly common when you are grieving, when there are so many negative emotions inside you. Now, my dear, I’m going to set up regular counseling sessions for you. If there is no improvement, I can prescribe tablets to help with your mood—until the augmenters can kiss you better.”
I clench my fists. “My mood is fine.”
“No, it’s not. Look at the anger—that detestable emotion—in your voice.”
I grit my teeth for a second. “Maybe I’m angry because I’m being kept here, a prisoner.”
“You are misguided because of the Untamed darkness spreading its web in you, creating new tentacles, and infecting you deeper and deeper, until the very core of your soul is blackened and wizened from so much evil.”
I don’t say anything more. Just watch him as he walks to the side of the room and speaks into a phone.
“Yes. I want to run some tests. Check Shania’s blood levels. And a few scans. Ensure that her dopamine and serotonin levels are as they should be.” He turns back to me. “Don’t worry, my dear. We will save you fully, very soon.”
Raleigh collects me after Dr. Andy has finished.
“Did he give you anti-depressants?” It’s the first question Raleigh asks.
“No.”
Raleigh glares at me. “But you are depressed because of your grief. It is blocking your Seer powers.”
I can’t help but smile.
“This way.” Raleigh steers me to the left. We’re not going back to my cell.
We walk quietly, quickly. Going to my new room?
Then I look at Raleigh. “How far along are your men with developing the new augmenters…for us?” My fingers twitch.
“Close.”
“How close? How long?” I start to slow as I look at him.
Raleigh shrugs. “A few days. Possibly less.”
A few days? My chest tightens. It could all be over. In a few days, I could be Enhanced again—and this time I wouldn’t be able to resist the augmenters as well, would I? I only could before as I was being conditioned against them.
But next time….
“It’ll be very soon.” Raleigh smiles. “And then we can catch up on this unfortunate delay.”
He stops in front of a doorway, a few minutes later.
“I have a surprise for you, Shania.” Raleigh beams at me as he takes out a golden key, unlocks the door. My excitement builds. Raleigh’s beam gets brighter. “Something to help you feel better. A new room and a new companion. He’s in there waiting for you. This will cheer you up.”
He?
Every muscle in my body tenses.
Corin.
I push the door open.
Something hits me in the chest. I stumble back, fall against Raleigh, end up on the floor and—
The dog jumps on me, licking my face, my arms, my neck, wagging his tail.
And I—
I don’t know what to do.
It’s—it’s my terrier.
I stare up at my dog—his nose inches from mine—and hug him tightly.
It’s him.
It’s really him. His tail wags so fast, slapping me, but I don’t care.
The terrier lifts his head, looks over my shoulder. A warning growl emanates as he looks at Raleigh.
“He’s not very friendly to any of us,” Raleigh says.
“He wouldn’t be. You’re all Enhanced.” I look up. “How’d you find him? Where?”
“Do you remember Rosemary Webber at New Kimearo?”
I hold my dog tighter. “I think so.” She was one of the Enhanced who was present during my conversion—my first conversion. She gave me cake, I think. And she named me Shania.
“Rosemary was out with a surveying team, and she found the dog wandering alone. She told your mother. Your mother seemed to think it was your terrier, and a quick visit confirmed it. She requested that the dog was brought to you, and arrangements were made yesterday, as it happens. The animal arrived not long ago.”
“My mother?” I sit up straighter. The terrier moves in my arms, curls his head around, so he’s nestled into my chest. “Is she here too? Did she come with my dog?”
Raleigh shakes my head. “Your mother is still at New Kimearo. But she will be here shortly, as soon as she’s finished her work. And then we shall all go back to my domain.”
She’s coming here?
“Work? What work?”
Raleigh smiles, shows off those perfect teeth of his. “Don’t worry yourself over things that don’t concern you. Concentrate on yourself, on getting over your grief. And—” He gestures at my terrier. “Teach him to be nice. I haven’t forgotten how his teeth sunk into my flesh before. Should he do that again, there will be consequences.”
The terrier barks—short and sharp—and I hug him closer as I sit up more, lean against the doorway.
“Come on, Shania. You have to go into your room now. I have to make sure you are safe.”
I get up, my overalls rustling, still holding the dog, and step into my new room, look around.
A simple bed in one corner, with a bookcase next to it. Books. Entertainment.
I’ve got an en suite. The door is on the far side of the room, and it’s open. Through the doorway, I can see a bath. I run in there, the dog at my legs, and turn the hot tap on and off several times, feel the jets of hot water.
But there’s no window in either room.
Raleigh snorts. “It always amazes me when you Untamed are so surprised by modern conveniences.”
“I’m not surprised,” I say, turning the tap off.
“I’ll leave you in your excitement—and with your new companion. Hopefully this will pull you out of your grief and make your Seer powers accessible to you. And to me.”
I watch him leave. He shuts the door firmly, and then I hear a key in the lock. I wait until his footsteps have died away, then I check the handle. It doesn’t move. I evaluate the door. Thick, sturdy. Made of a solid sheet of oak. Not one I can kick down.
The terrier yips.
I look down, see his large eyes. His tail’s still wagging, from side to side, so fast, creating a draught. I bend down and hug him again, bury my face in his fur. His coat smells strangely sweet. Som
eone’s washed him.
“Bet you didn’t like that, eh?”
The terrier nuzzles into me more, then he reaches up, licks my face and my neck again.
And, for the first time since arriving here, I feel better.
I’ve got my dog back.
The rest of the day, I try to body-share, on and off. My dog watches me. He’s lying on the bed, and I’m sitting on the floor.
But nothing happens, no matter how hard I try. I start to get jittery. Have my Seer powers really gone? It can’t be grief…can’t be. Not over Jed anyway. But I don’t understand. They can’t just disappear.
So it has to be Jed. He has to have taken my powers.
The terrier whines.
I look at him. He needs a name. Really needs a name. Back at Nbutai—and before—we never named our dogs because we used the packs for hunting small game. And the dogs we used frequently changed, as they got older, as some had puppies, as some died. And even though the dogs had favorite people, and we all had favorite dogs, they weren’t pets, not really. Even our dog, who lived with my family for years, wasn’t supposed to be a pet, even though he wasn’t as good at hunting as the others and we all hugged him whenever we could.
But the moment he was in the truck that I drove away, he became a pet. A proper one. He became my pet, my dog. And I tried to name him before, but I never succeeded. Dog suits him. But it sounds uncivilized.
He wags his tail, then scratches behind his right ear.
I try to body-share again, then give up. I’m tired. And hungry. Before I go to bed, I have a quick meal of dried biscuits and fruit. Earlier, I found several items of food in the cupboard in the corner of my room, including some pouches of dog food. The terrier wolfs down his food, from a small plate that was under one of the pouches.
I finish my meal, go to the en suite and clean my teeth—something I relish—then take a shower from the unit over the bath. The hot water feels amazing, but, as I stare at the pale blue tiled walls, I can’t help but wonder whether it’s really happened—whether my Seer powers have really gone. They can’t have, can they?
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