Nicole wondered what they’d asked. She resumed her visual exploration. A wooden chair sat next to the opening and close to one of the torches. Books lined a shelf and Nicole almost asked the man if he could read to her before remembering he didn’t speak English.
Dirty dishes were piled around the opening. Nicole wondered first, where they’d come from, and second, how long they’d been there.
Blankets lay in heaps around the chair, and Nicole realized the man had probably been sleeping in the room. Weird. Though, she’d been sick enough that he’d most likely worried she’d die without constant supervision.
A sudden exhaustion rolled over her, and the man noticed. He motioned for her to close her eyes, which she did. If he intended her harm, it would have happened already.
She heard him sit in the chair right before she fell asleep.
This time, her sleep was long and pain free. No dreams plagued her, and when she woke, she felt refreshed and energized.
But not energized enough to sit up, as she soon discovered. She grumbled in frustration, and the man, lying on the floor by her cot, stirred.
Nicole shut her mouth, hoping she hadn’t awakened him. He probably needed sleep as much as she did.
He settled.
She waited until she was sure he was deeply sleeping again, then tried raising her head.
She succeeded! By about an inch. Exhausted, she let it drop, wondering how long she’d been sick and how long it would take to regain her strength. It must have been days since she’d been moved to the cave.
So why hadn’t Jacob Time-Seen to where she was and brought an expedition and rescued her? Why was she still alone? Why were they ignoring her, not trying to get her out?
Nicole felt tears well up and leak out of the corners of her eyes as she stared up at the ceiling. She tried to control the sniffling, not wanting to wake the man who had watched over her so much. But it was hard.
She heard someone approaching in the hall and blinked repeatedly, hoping the tears were sufficiently gone.
A woman wearing a head covering and a long shawl, a rope tied around her waist, entered the cave. She saw that Nicole was awake and smiled, gingerly stepping over the snoring man.
An aroma followed after her. An aroma of chicken broth and warm bread. Nicole’s stomach growled loudly, making her cringe, but the woman only smiled more broadly. She said something Nicole didn’t understand, but her gestures to the basket hanging from her arm helped Nicole understand that she was offering food to her.
Nicole swallowed. “Yes, please, yes.”
She needed the food—needed it to heal.
The woman laid a comforting hand on Nicole’s good arm, her chocolate-brown eyes full of compassion.
Chocolate . . .
Nicole’s stomach growled again. The woman chuckled, then set the basket down, carefully lifting a covered ceramic bowl from it. She set the lid aside and, using a spoon, drained some of the broth into Nicole’s mouth.
Nicole had never tasted anything more wonderful in her entire life.
Her stomach revolted when the broth hit it. Nicole chewed the inside of her cheek, trying to keep herself from throwing up.
The woman understood her trouble and set aside the food, then dipped a cloth into a bucket of water Nicole hadn’t noticed yet. She mopped Nicole’s forehead, speaking soothing, quiet words.
After a few moments, Nicole’s stomach calmed, and she gestured for more broth. The woman quickly obliged, again dripping a spoonful into Nicole’s mouth.
This time, the nausea reaction went away much more quickly, but Nicole still needed a moment of rest. And again, the woman seemed to understand. It made Nicole wonder how many times she had done this for other people.
It took what felt like an hour for Nicole to reach the point where she felt satisfied enough to stop. The woman didn’t even bring out the bread. At first, Nicole had been sad about that, but there was no way she would have been able to handle that sort of thing just yet.
When the woman finished feeding Nicole, she smiled, tucked the bowl, spoon, and lid away, then waved goodbye and left the room.
The man slept through the whole thing.
Nicole’s stomach roiled for a moment, probably trying to decide what to do with the liquid now in it. Once the nausea went away, she settled into her bed, content for the first time in a long while. She needed to stop fretting about her friends—there wasn’t anything she could do for them.
It wasn’t until this moment that she realized her powers were there, waiting. She hadn’t even thought about them until now. She was tempted to use Earth to dig herself out of the cave—get back home—but if she overexerted herself, which was likely, she’d be completely unable to do anything once she got out. It wasn’t worth it.
Instead, she relaxed, forcing her mind to calm and allowing herself to fall asleep.
***
The next time Nicole woke, she had gained a great deal of strength. Enough that with the man’s help, she was able to sit.
And oh, it felt so good to do even that much again!
It tired her out immediately, though, and she collapsed against the wall behind her.
The man stuffed blankets around her to help support her, then sat on the chair, beaming at her with pride in his eyes.
Nicole’s stomach started turning from hunger, and as if on cue, the woman from before came back. She spoke rapidly to the man, and Nicole could tell from her gestures that she was telling what had happened while the man slept. They both seemed pleased with Nicole’s progress, and again, the woman offered broth to Nicole.
This time, Nicole was quickly able to eat her fill. Sitting up had exhausted her, and the woman had to spoon-feed her, but she drained the whole bowl. She was touched by the compassion of these people—how willing they were to serve her. She hoped to be able to repay the favor somehow.
But more than that, she needed information.
“Where am I?” she asked the man and woman. They stared at her blankly, not understanding.
Nicole tried raising her hands to gesture her question, but got distracted by the huge bandage on her left forearm. How had she not noticed that before?
“What happened? Why is it still bandaged?” She tried pointing at it with her right hand, but couldn’t move that arm well enough. Instead, she stared at the bandage with what she hoped was the appropriate questioning expression.
The man didn’t understand her words, but he did understand her body language. He spoke rapidly, telling a story with his hands and the woman’s help.
A bird had flown down to her. Bit her. They fought the bird off. Once it was dead, they pulled Nicole here.
“Where is ‘here’?” she asked. “Am I under Edana? Has anyone come to find me?”
Nicole groaned in frustration when she realized that yet again, they weren’t understanding her. She gave up, knowing she needed to save her strength.
The man continued his narration. Apparently, Nicole had been badly injured. Well, she knew that. She just didn’t know to what extent. And when the man pulled the bandage off her arm to show her, she yelped in surprise.
A huge, gaping wound greeted her. The edges were ugly, some of the skin blackened.
“Are you sure this still isn’t infected?” she asked frantically. They didn’t understand. How to make them understand?
She pointed to her arm. “Will this . . .” She dropped her head, pretending to die, making the “I’m dead” sound, then looked at them. “Will this kill me?” she asked, pointing to the sore.
The man seemed to understand because he shook his head repeatedly.
“How did you get rid of the infection?”
When they didn’t answer, Nicole examined the sore again, then gasped when she realized it had been burned extensively. What on earth had they done to save her? Would she ever find out?
“This is going to be the ugliest scar ever,” she whispered, trying to control her emotions. It was just an arm, for crying ou
t loud. She wouldn’t cry—she wouldn’t.
Exhaustion rolled over her, but she was too wound up now to sleep. At the woman’s insistence, though, the man helped Nicole back down to the cot. The man cleansed Nicole’s sore as Nicole gripped the blankets with her good hand. Then the woman applied something calming and wrapped the wound in clean cloths.
Nicole couldn’t help but wonder about these two. Were they married? The first time she’d seen this man, he’d acted like a leader of some sort. Did the natives have a form of government? Would she ever get out of this hole? Would she ever hold a normal conversation again?
Feeling like her brain was about to shut down from questions and exhaustion, Nicole closed her eyes and eventually fell asleep.
***
Over what Nicole assumed were several days, she gradually grew in strength and appetite until she was eating full meals and able to sponge bathe herself. She was grateful for the diet these people maintained—it was surprisingly similar to her own, with meats, breads, broths, and even dairy—and she was so glad her energy was returning.
But the first day she tried walking, she failed.
Nicole flopped to the ground, her legs unable to hold her. Had she been paralyzed? No—she could move her legs. Why, then, could they not support her? Had she lost that much muscle? Had she forgotten how to walk?
Realizing the answer to the last two questions was yes, Nicole sank her head to her hands and sobbed for a good five minutes. Despair threatened to throw her into complete and overwhelming depression.
The man and woman helped her to her feet, sitting her on the cot again.
“How long until I can walk?” she asked. “Will I walk again? Or was I permanently damaged by the bird’s sludge?”
The woman, who Nicole learned was called Tochko, gave her a sympathetic expression.
Maybe they could communicate by drawing pictures to each other. Nicole mimed writing, but Tochko gestured and said something in her rapid-fire language that led Nicole to believe that they didn’t have anything for writing. Maybe they did, but not there. Maybe Nicole would need to walk to wherever the stuff was. Or maybe they only used it for rare occasions because it was hard to come by. She hated not being able to converse with them!
Tochko helped Nicole settle into her bed and commanded her to rest. Nicole was getting used to the woman’s mannerisms, and at least they could communicate with gestures. She sighed in frustration, rolling to her side, grateful for the strength that was slowly coming to her body.
It was time for sleep.
The next day, Tochko again helped Nicole sit up. Then she and the man, who was called Suntkou, helped Nicole stand. This time, with one of them on either side, supporting most of her weight, Nicole was able to take her first faltering step.
It was hard. Really hard.
She couldn’t believe how many of her basic abilities she’d lost because of that stupid bird sucking her blood.
Suntkou and Tochko walked her around the room several times until she was so tired, she couldn’t lift her legs anymore.
And that was the end of her exercise for the day. But her mind was far from sleepy, now that she was on the mend, and boredom quickly set in.
For entertainment, she began practicing her Arete powers. She focused on gathering her magic as quickly as she could, then forced it out of her just as fast, having it crush little rocks and rebuild them. It definitely wasn’t exciting, but she was getting much faster at commanding her powers.
The man and woman loved watching her exercises. And she loved their attention. It felt like she was entertaining small kids.
Soon, she was able to crush the rocks and re-create them instantly and flawlessly so that she couldn’t tell that they’d gone through any change at all. Once she’d mastered a “quick draw,” she began focusing on water.
It was hard. The dumb liquid didn’t want to obey.
Nicole started with a cup of water held between her thighs. She practiced moving the water around and around. She tried lifting it, but couldn’t. It made her wish she had Professor Coolidge’s book with her—the one that taught which sub-ability an Arete should start working on first. She did the best she could, trying to keep thoughts of Coolidge and Austin—oh, Austin—from her mind.
Why weren’t the natives helping her get back to him? One of them was always with her, and when she asked about leaving, they couldn’t understand her. Either they were pretending not to understand, or they really didn’t. She suspected that at this point, they knew she wanted to go home.
And what was going on with Keitus? Had her friends figured out where the talismans were without her help? She hoped so. She hoped they were staying well ahead of the evil man.
It was hard not to stress about her situation and the situation of her friends, so she practiced calming exercises. That helped, especially since she couldn’t control what was going on outside of her little cave.
After several days of practicing with water when her physical abilities were exhausted, Nicole finally started making headway with the element. It began moving and lifting itself at her command.
She was surprised when this simple action made Suntkou and Tochko extremely excited. The woman clapped and dashed away, and the man grinned at Nicole.
Nicole set the cup aside, mildly confused. Her confusion grew when several natives returned with Tochko, jabbering excitedly, motioning to Nicole while talking to each other. A few of them carried buckets.
Tochko approached Nicole with a grin. She pointed to the water in Nicole’s cup, then to the walls of the cave. Then back to the cup. Next, she pointed to a section of stone farthest from Nicole’s bed that was moister than the others. With big motions, she indicated pulling water from the wall and putting it in the cup.
“You want me to gather water?”
The people stared at her expectantly.
“And . . . if I do this, can I leave?”
No one responded, but she got a few extra smiles, and was that a nod from the man in the back?
Nicole decided to be a bit more forward. “I’ll only do this,” she mimed herself gathering water, putting it in one of the buckets, “if you help me leave.” She then used her fingers to show someone walking away.
The natives looked at each other for a moment. Nicole held her breath, hoping she’d finally gotten through. Suntkou put his hand on Nicole’s shoulder and nodded.
Relieved, Nicole sank back against the wall of the cave, closing her eyes. She couldn’t believe they’d finally communicated! When she opened her eyes, the people were still there, eagerly waiting.
Nicole sighed. “Okay, I’ll start now.”
She picked up the cup. With halting steps, she left her bed and approached the moist section of wall. Her magic was ready, waiting—she didn’t need to gather it anymore. She instructed it to pull water from the wall, to fill the cup she held.
She got out a drop.
Before she could even direct the drop to the cup, her magic ran out and she slumped against the wall, exhausted. The droplet splatted on the ground below.
Nicole shook her head. “I can’t do so much—it’s too much. I need to practice more.” She felt tears leaking from her eyes and couldn’t stop her shoulders from shaking. Would she ever see Austin again? Would she ever leave this place?
Nicole was aware of Tochko shooing the other people away. She approached Nicole, putting her arms around her and helping her back to the bed. She wiped tears from Nicole’s cheeks, clucking sympathetically.
“If you feel so bad, why am I still here? Why haven’t you helped me escape?”
Tochko only shook her head in response.
After she’d finished tucking Nicole in, she took one of the torches with her, waved a goodbye to Suntkou, who had settled onto his blankets on the floor, then left.
Nicole knew by now that once it was “bedtime,” Suntkou didn’t speak. He fell asleep quickly and deeply.
Knowing the task that was required of her in order to
leave, Nicole realized just how long it would be before she got out of the place. And for the first time, she also recognized that yes—she was absolutely exhausted, magically and physically. But she needed to figure out a way out.
Otherwise, she might end up living there forever.
***
Nicole was getting good enough at walking now that Tochko began helping her go up and down the tunnel outside her room. After successfully walking alone, rather than the triumph she expected from the man and woman, she was met with worried glances.
Nicole’s stomach turned—they were thinking about her escaping. She wouldn’t be surprised if they increased her guard.
After exercising one day, Nicole was shocked when Suntkou and Tochko argued. Suntkou shoved something into Tochko’s hands. Tochko shook her head emphatically, the blood drained from her face, and she began shivering—but not from the cold. The woman was seriously freaked out.
What was going on?
From then on, only Tochko was with Nicole, and she watched Nicole incredibly closely. Any time Nicole acted faint or tired, the woman was very attentive. It started getting annoying.
“I’m fine, I really am,” Nicole would say over and over again, but it didn’t matter—Tochko still insisted on Nicole sitting down when she showed signs of exhaustion.
So, Nicole stopped showing it, as much as she could.
She set out one morning, determined to begin memorizing the tunnels. But from that day on, Tochko stopped taking her beyond the tunnel just outside her hole. And Nicole noticed something else—she almost never saw anyone else now. In fact, since the argument between Tochko and Suntkou, she hadn’t even seen Suntkou again.
She started feeling lonely. Even though Tochko chattered up a storm and did her best to keep her company, Nicole craved a real conversation with someone who truly knew her. She fought anxiety in the evenings and depression in the mornings. The only time she felt mostly okay was when she was walking.
Obscure, Mosaic Chronicles Book Seven Page 8
