Suppliant

by Laura Tree

  Chapter 20

  The next morning goes pretty much the same as the day before. My classes are easier now that my professors know my dirty little secret. After class each one asks me to stay and gives me an extra assignment to get me up to speed.

  At lunch time, Trish sits down with me. “Let’s meet up for the assembly tonight. We can sit together.” A picture of Damien’s face flashes into my mind. I hate lying all of the time, but she can’t know that I already have plans, so I nod in agreement.

  “What’s on your mind? You have been really quiet and distant today. Is it Damien?” Trish asks.

  I really wish I could confide in her, I need to tell someone. But, Damien is right. The less I tell, the safer it will be. I can tell her all about it tomorrow. Hopefully she won’t be too upset at me for it. I decide it will be best to play along with her suggestion for the moment.

  “Yeah” I figure it would be best to let the half--truth slide.

  “Tell me all about it.” Her eyes light up. Trish is sitting across from me at our typical table. I wonder where Zeke is. He has been keeping his distance from me today.

  Just then, he comes into view and walks straight for our table.

  Zeke slides in beside Trish. “What’s up, ladies?”

  “You’re speaking to us?” Trish asks. I guess she’s noticed Zeke’s absence too.

  “Of course, I can’t stay mad at a couple of beautiful ladies for long.” He shoots us a handsome smile, causing Trish to shift in her seat.

  “Layla was just telling me about her trouble in paradise.” Trish picks up her apple.

  “Interesting, after finding out that you two just started dating, I didn’t think there would be a problem yet. What did the hero do?”

  I feel the blush creep up my cheeks. I am backed into a corner. I hate to lie to my only friends at The Isle, but I can’t tell them that there really is no problem, that I’m just distracted.

  “We just had a disagreement,” I lie. “Really, it was my fault,” I hope that will tide them over. Besides, it’s just stretching the truth. We did disagree about me going with Damien last night.

  “Said no girl, ever! Most girls would blame the guy, Layla.” Zeke speaks the truth. Feeling defeated I lower my head and begin to focus on my salad.

  After a few seconds of watching me pushing the lettuce around with my fork, Zeke and Trish start their own conversation.

  I have a feeling that I have just opened up a can of worms. I need to tell him that we had a “disagreement” so it doesn’t raise suspicion for Trish and Zeke who, along with everyone else, seem to be watching our every move.

  I’m thinking about how I’m going to get all of the extra assignments done tonight with the ceremony when the bell rings to signify the end of lunch.

  I haven’t seen Jessice around today. I wonder what happened to her last night. Maybe she is too ashamed that Damien stood her up to work here anymore, but that doesn’t make sense. I wouldn’t let a boy get in the way of my job. There has to be more here than what I am seeing.

  I stand to take my lunch to the trash can, Zeke and Trish following closely, when my foot catches on something and I tumble to the ground. I land hard on my knees and catch myself with my hands. My tray flies, and the remnants of my food scatter, some landing in my hair.

  Embarrassment takes over and I begin to frantically gather my tray’s contents from the ground.

  “Are you all right?” Trish asks.

  “You must have tripped on that tree root. You’ll have to watch your step.” Zeke offers a hand to help me up.

  The second our hands came into contact, I feel the tingling. Zeke’s eyes grow wide. I can feel the disbelief pulsing off him. My heart starts pounding faster.

  I realize that I’m still standing there staring, with Zeke clutching my hand, when Trish picks up my tray and heads to throw it away.

  I try to take a step away and collapse; pain is radiating up my right thigh.

  “Layla?” The question is in his eyes; he knows I am a Suppliant, but the more pressing issue at hand should be my bum knee.

  “I should get to class.” I’m trying to pull away, which only tightens his grip on my palm. “Or the clinic,” I mumble, trying to pull his attention from the proverbial elephant in the room.

  “You’re a Suppliant? Why didn’t you tell me? I am a Protector, so is Damien. It all makes sense now,” he mutters, the last part mostly to himself. I guess there’s no changing the subject now.

  “You’re bleeding,” Trish says, after throwing our trash away. “You should get that checked out. You can’t go to Combat with a bleeding palm.” I’ve never been so thankful to see Trish. I send up a silent thank--you to the powers that be for the change in subject.

  After running a hand down my arm to make sure his accusations are correct, Zeke lets go of my hand, and Trish steers me off to the clinic. I can feel Zeke’s eyes on me until I hobble around the corner.

  ...

  Trish leaves me at the check--in counter and heads off to class. I’m grateful for her help; my knee is really throbbing now.

  Once seated in the examination room, I have a moment to look around.

  It’s a well--lit, clinically sterile room, the same kind of room that you would find in a regular doctor’s office. The walls are painted bright white at the top and blue at the bottom. There is crown molding separating the two colors.

  The floor looks the same as the floor you would find in the hospital back home. And the smell is the clean scent of a medical practice that some people hate, but is comforting to me.

  I really miss my parents. Every time I get sick or hurt, my mom is there to bandage me up. When I was a kid, I used to get really bad ear infections and my mom would tickle my face until I fell asleep. I wish I could go back home.

  The doctor knocks politely before entering. She’s younger than I expected. She looks to be in her early thirties, but I know that people age differently here.

  She’s wearing a white lab coat and a pair of black slacks. She has on practical penny loafers, and a blond bun. The only thing she’s missing is a pair of bulky black glasses. I like her instantly.

  “Layla Sanders,” she says, looking at the chart. “I am Doctor Hester. So what brings you in today?” She looks up with a smile.

  “I had an accident in the courtyard,” I say. “I fell and scraped my knees and hands. It was nothing really. I’m sure I just need a bandage.” Out of embarrassment, I rub my hands on my jeans. I don’t want to let on how much my knee is killing me at the moment.

  “I wouldn’t dismiss it just yet. Let me have a look.” She pulls up my pant legs to find my knees are red and scratched. One of my knees is starting to swell.

  “It looks like it was a hard fall.” She squirts some saline on my knees to remove the debris and then hands me an ice pack.

  “You will need to keep off of this knee for the rest of the week; I’ll write you an excuse for your Combat class. Now let me see that hand,” she says, pulling my pant legs back down.

  What? Skipping Combat is not going to work for me. Getting trained to complete my mission is the only reason that I am here in the first place.

  That means that I’m going to fall further behind, and I’m not in the best physical condition as it is. I wonder if Professor Kale will let me participate anyway.

  Not to mention that I’m running out of time. Queen Nema knows that I’m here and will attack soon.

  I’m too distracted about not being able to go to class that I don’t hear what she’s saying. I flinch as she moves something in my hand. I didn’t realize that it was cut that badly.

  “It looks like there is a wood chip lodged in this hand. The other one is just scratched, but this one will need stitches after I get the wood chip out,” she says.

  “I will be fine. I don’t need stitches.” I tug my hand back.

  “You are getting stitches. Now hold still.” With a pair of tweezers, she gentl
y removes the wood chip. I try not to pass out when I catch a glimpse of the one--inch gash. It’s not that bad; it will heal, I tell myself.

  “I have a confession to make. I don’t do well with needles,” I say.

  “Honey, not many people do. Just think about something else and look away. It will be over soon.” My thoughts drift to what Damien would think about my predicament.

  I hope Trish doesn’t make it sound too bad. I’m sure that he’s going to ask about me. I wish I could have told him about our disagreement before he talks to Trish.

  How am I going to make it to the beach tonight with a swollen knee? It’s already throbbing; I can’t imagine putting pressure on it for any significant amount of time.

  ...

  “All done. That wasn’t so bad was it?” She wraps my hand with a bandage.

  “Surprisingly, no.” I’m grateful for the bandage at the moment. I don’t need to pass out at the sight of the stitches.

  “I will be back with a wheelchair and some medicine for you. Wait right here.” She hurries out, and a few minutes later an aide comes in with a wheelchair.

  “The doctor said that you are supposed to stay off your knee for at least three days. We have notified your professors that you will not be attending classes, and you are not allowed back in Combat for the rest of the week. Here are some pain meds. Take them every four hours for the first day. Take these antibiotics to prevent infection for the next ten days. Make sure that you take one in the morning and one at night, and no alcohol. Come back next Friday to have the stitches removed.” She helps me into the chair as I tried to argue.

  I can’t fall behind; not after the Dean said that I needed extra work to get caught up as it is.

  The nurse pushes my wheelchair to my room and helps me transition into the bed for a quick nap. I have so much to think about that I don’t want to take a nap, but after taking the pain medicine, I am feeling drowsy. Once cuddled in my bed, I close my eyes. I tell myself it’s just for a second.

  ...

  Damien is the first thing I see. He’s sitting by my bed reading a book. The pain hits me when I sit up to rub the sleep out of my eyes. I’m glad that the doctor prescribed me the meds.

  “Layla, are you okay? Trish told me what happened, and Professor Kale told me that you weren’t allowed back until next week.” He’s trying to help me sit up without hurting me further.

  “Doctor’s orders. I tried to tell her I am fine, but she said I needed to rest. Really it was a small fall. My knee was swollen, and I got a wood chip lodged in my palm. That needed stitches,” I say, looking at my hand. Damien must have taken the bandage off while I was sleeping.

  “I checked it out as soon as I got here. You were asleep so I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  I’m not sure how I feel about his admission. I’m glad that he is concerned, but I should have woken up when he was taking the bandage off my hand. Normally, a conversation in the gathering area will wake me up.

  “Did Trish tell you about our disagreement?” I ask, looking at Damien, hoping for understanding.

  “What disagreement?”

  I can feel anger rolling from him.

  “At lunch she confronted me about why I was being so distant today. I didn’t want to lie to her, but I knew that I couldn’t tell her what we were planning, which has been on my mind all day. When she suggested that it had something to do with you, I reluctantly agreed. I led her to believe that we got into a fight. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to say, and she had me cornered,” I say.

  I flip my hand over to analyze the stitches again to avoid looking at him. My stomach pitches.

  “She didn’t mention it, but it doesn’t matter. You made the right choice,” he says, his shoulders relaxing.

  “Zeke helped me up. He knows about me. He was just being friendly and grabbed my hand to help me to my feet. He felt the connection and figured it out. I didn’t get the chance to talk to him about it,” I say.

  “That would explain his attitude toward me during Combat. Since you weren’t there, he partnered up with me and was making everything a pissing match.”

  I want nothing more than to change the subject. I don’t know how to handle Zeke right now. I am not sure what he wants or what I should tell him.

  My thoughts drifted off to Jessice. “What happened with Jessice?” I ask.

  “That’s taken care of,” he says. “I asked around this morning and apparently she left late last night. The Dean said she requested leave due to a family emergency. He said she will be gone for a few months.”

  “Do you think it has something to do with you not showing up last night?” I ask.

  “It could, but there is no need in worrying about her for the moment,” he says.

  My throbbing knee reminds me that I need to take my meds. The second they are in my hand, Damien snatches them away.

  “You need to eat first, or you’re going to get sick. I brought you some soup and a sandwich. I figured you would be hungry,” he says. I’m not sure how long I was asleep, but my stomach is talking.

  After eating and taking my pills, I’m ready to tackle the next topic, the ceremony.

  “When are we leaving for the beach?” I push the covers aside and motion to sit up.

  “Layla, we can’t go out there. You’re injured, and the doctor said that you can’t put pressure on your leg for at least three days.” Damien helps me move the covers off and get another ice pack for my knee. “We can head out Friday to do the ceremony,” he says, making it clear that it’s not up for debate.

  “Please, Damien, I just want to get it over with; it would make me feel much better. I don’t want something else to happen, and I’m falling behind in my work thanks to my knee. I really wouldn’t like to worry about the ceremony too.” I place a hand on his arm. It feels like cheating, but I want to use every advantage that I have.

  “How are you going to get out there, Layla? I can’t carry you during the ceremony,” he says as I try to swing my leg over the bed to stand, wincing at the pain.

  “Isn’t there some way that I can heal sooner? I need to get back out there. I’m gonna go crazy in here.” I reach for my water and use it to swallow the tears that are beginning to well up.

  “There is one way, but we have to be joined. After the ceremony, I can heal you using your power. I won’t have access to that power until we are joined. I am sorry, Layla, you’re going to have to wait,” Damien says, scooting the chair back forcefully.

  I can’t help but think how cute it is that he paces when he gets upset, not to mention the way he runs his hand through his hair.

  “Can’t we do the ceremony here? I really can’t afford to wait. I’m on the fast track to a stealthy death. Every minute counts, and I have already wasted enough time. When they come back, I need to be ready,” I plead.

  After a few moments of thought, he replies, “It’s really risky. I would need someone to come and cleanse the air in here. It needs to be swept for outside energy. There can’t be anyone on the ground floor. We need fifty feet of uninterrupted space. No one can be in the circle but us,” he says.

  Well crap. There’s no way we can just walk up to the lobby and demand that everyone leave. I guess I will have to postpone the ceremony.

  I’m thinking about what I’m going to do tonight instead when it dawns on me. There is an assembly tonight. It will clear out the whole building; there will be no one around.

  “What about the assembly tonight? It will be the perfect timing. Can you find someone to cleanse the air that fast?” I’m silently pleading that he says yes and goes along with it. Once we are joined, he could heal my wounds, and I would be back in the game, only missing one Combat class.

  “It would be the perfect time; everyone on campus will be attending. I have a friend that can come cleanse the room. If we are going to do this, Layla, you need to start preparing. Are you still sure about this?” This is my last chance to
change my mind about being joined with Damien for life, eternity, forever. It’s a big commitment, I know, but as I see it right now, I have no other choice.

  If I don’t join Damien and accept him as my Protector, I will surely die. Besides, I already had a peek inside his head and know that his intentions are pure. I have to do what I can to find the Pendant so I can find my parents. I can’t see a way to move on with my life until I find out who I really am.

  “I’m sure; I’ve been practically begging you for this to happen tonight. Let’s do it,” I whisper.

  Damien helps me into the bathroom to bathe in the special herbs he has gathered. As soon as I’m soaking, he sets off to find his friend.