Tor smiled. There were others out there like him, people he had never known who were a part of him. I never had anyone. The Sualwets feared me, and the Erdlanders were a threat. Would the A’aihea be any different, I wondered? Perhaps Tor’s connection to them would be stronger than his feelings for me.
Today I had discovered so much about the A’aihea and myself. Instead of trying to tell him everything, I pulled out the letter Traz had helped me steal. “This is the report they wrote about the attack. Traz had the facts right, but there’s so much more here, and it doesn’t make any sense.”
Tor took the paper from me. His eyes scanned back and forth, but he handed it back to me with a grunt. “I don’t know what it says.”
I read him the report, and after a moment he asked me to read it again. This was the only proof of a world that might accept him..
“The Nalastran Mountain Ridge. This is where we have to go.” His deep blue eyes peered up at me, and within them shone a terrified expression and more than a little hope.
“Yes. But there’s more.”
“More than this? What more could there be? We should pack and leave before first light.”
“We can’t. I found something else.”
“From the A’aihea?”
I reached to the floor and grabbed my jeans. In the pocket was the rock I had found. “This was in the same box as the A’aihea stuff. It... burned Traz when he touched it.”
“It doesn’t burn you, though?”
“No, it tingles. I can feel it heating up, but it doesn’t hurt.”
“Like when I touch you.”
I turned away, struck by the memory of his hand on me, how the fabric had incinerated to ash, but his warm touch remained soft and gentle against my flesh.
“Yeah, kind of.”
“Here, let me hold it.”
Tor reached out to grab the rock, but I pulled it away from him. “Wait. Think this through. If it didn’t bother me, but it burned Traz, what might happen when you touch it?”
“Nothing.” Tor’s jaw hardened. “Or maybe it’ll burst into flames.”
“Right. So maybe this isn’t something we should do where a lot of people are around. I just don’t want to burn down the entire pod!”
“So when I take Elgon out, I’ll—”
“Thhhhhrrrruup!”
“Yeah, you.” Tor smiled and scratched the animal’s head.
I returned the rock to my pocket. “There’s one more thing, and it’s big, and I need your help. But first, we have to make sure we’re ready to leave tomorrow night.”
“That soon?” Tor’s eyes grew wide and excitement glinted behind the blue. “I thought you needed more time here.”
“Not anymore. I met a Sualwet today.”
“What?”
I told him all about the river, Mintoch, and the cage.
Tor stood up, anger and violence casting off from him. “What are they doing to him? Are they still... still experimenting?” He stopped and shuddered before turning to me. For the first time, I caught that glimmer of disgust I’d always expected to find in his eyes, but it vanished just as soon as it appeared.
I know what I am, where I came from, what I’m a product of. It disgusts me if I think on it too long, but that moment of revulsion in Tor’s eyes struck me just as deeply as if he had punched me in the gut. Tears came to my eyes. He paced the room in a huff, his hands clenched in fists.
“They don’t seem to be experimenting on him,” I said, “but they use him like—I don’t know—like a living barometer. It’s awful.”
“Then we’ll break him out!” Tor turned on me and growled. Fury sparked behind his eyes.
I flinched and scooted back on the bed, drawing my legs up to me. In the short time I’d known Tor, I’d learned how volatile he could be, but never had I been afraid of him until now.
“We’ll go tonight,” he insisted. “Once everyone is asleep, we can free him and run for the mountains.”
“Tor, we’ve barely slept in days. We can’t do it tonight. We have to pack and rest. And what about Traz?”
“What about him? He has nothing to do with this.”
“Yes, he does. I have to tell him about Mintoch.”
“No. The more people who know, the more danger we’re in.”
“Look, if it weren’t for Traz, we’d have never found out about the A’aihea.”
Tor stopped his frantic pacing and faced me. He huffed and stilled, but the tight knots of tension within his body remaining hard. “I guess so.”
“Plus we need to come up with a plan.”
“I already have one: wait ‘til everyone is asleep, grab the kid, and run for the mountains?”
“For one, Mintoch is trapped in a cage in an underground river.”
“I can break the wall. I’ll burn right through it if I have to.”
“I don’t doubt that. But what are you going to do when an entire river comes streaming into the Hub?”
“I can swim.”
“That’s not the point. Once we break through that wall, there won’t be any way to get above water. So, unless you can somehow learn how to breathe underwater....”
“Right....” Tor’s face fell, realization draining the adrenaline from his body and deflating his gusto. After sitting next to me, Tor slumped in on himself, thoughts playing across his features in slow motion.
Silence swelled as the sun set beyond the camp. I tried to fight sleep, but the fatigue was too much. I couldn’t think straight anymore, so I crawled under the blankets and slid over to my side of the bed. Only one night together, and already I had a side.
After settling my head on the pillow, I submitted to my body’s plea and closed my eyes. “We’ll come up with something. We have to,” I whispered into the darkness.
Warmth snuggled against me as Tor lay atop the blankets. His arm wrapped around my middle.
“We will.” He kissed my shoulder, and I allowed his presence to lull me deeper into darkness.
31
A sharp intake of breath woke me. I hadn’t really heard it, not even with my strange Sualwet senses. I’d felt it. Like the world had been inhaled by the mouth of a destructive god.
The exhale shook my body. Its ragged release allowed no sound to escape, only the pressure of a slow, agonizing breath.
Tor’s heavy arm lay across me, his steady breath undisturbed. It took me a moment to orient myself, separating my body from the erratic breathing pounding in my mind. When I was sure the noise wasn’t me and Tor was safe, I stretched my mind’s eye out into the pod. Room by room, I eavesdropped on slumbering forms. Deep steady breaths, snores, and mumbled dreams greeted me in each chamber.
I hesitated before breaching the confines of the bathroom. Privacy should be given, but if this sound came from in there, I had to find out why.
Within, I sensed the shape of Elle, her energy pale, her breathing coming in suffocating bursts as she clenched her teeth. I could feel her agonizing screams despite the silence. Pain radiating from her whipped me, punishing me for breaching the security of the small bathroom.
I slipped from beneath Tor’s arm, climbed over him, and crept past the sleeping mountain hound on the floor. The blue door creaked as I inched it open, but neither of my wild men roused. After tiptoeing across the pod, I approached the bathroom door. Waves of heaviness passed through it, trying to block me from entering.
I had no idea what was going on, but whatever was happening, Elle shouldn’t be alone. She’d been nothing but kind to me. Her smiling face had welcomed me and helped me navigate this strange place without question. She was happy to accept me for the person I pretended to be. What could bring such purity so completely to its knees?
After bracing myself, I placed my hand on the door and pushed. Inside, the room was black, and Elle’s hitched breathing continued. I sensed her tension, felt the invisible walls around her push out, trying to keep me at bay.
“Go away,” she pleaded, as if the darkne
ss had drained away her strength.
“Elle, what’s wrong?” My eyes adjusted to the dim moonlight streaming through the windows. The night was cloudy, but I could see fine.
My curly-haired friend had hunkered into a ball on the floor, hiding from sight in the small space behind the sink. A thick smell wafted in the room, an unwelcome reminder of death.
“Elle, please, it’s me, Sera. What’s wrong?”
After entering farther, I allowed the door to swing closed behind me. It clicked back into place as I stood over her. “Elle?”
Her sweat-dampened hair was down, the curls limp around her shoulders. With knees pulled up against her chest, Elle had tugged her sleeping shirt down over her legs so I could only see her toes peeking out beneath the fabric. I slid to the floor, and the scent from earlier sharpened. It permeated the room.
Blood.
“Are you... are you bleeding?” I asked, reaching a hand toward her knee.
Instead of answering, Elle pulled tighter into herself, and her breathing hiccupped into a sob. I spotted blood on the floor next to her—a dark thickness that had settled into cracks between the tiles. With eyes closed, Elle turned her head away from me and held her breath, a useless battle against the incoming tide of pain.
“Elle?”
“No, nothing. Just... just go away.” A hiccup cut her off.
“I’m getting Sal.” I moved to stand, but she reached out and grabbed my hand.
“No, no, he can’t know.” Her eyes blazed behind unshed tears.
“Elle, there’s something wrong with you. We have to get help!”
“There’s nothing anyone can do.” Her voice was flat, the sound of a dead dream. “I’ll be sent to Life Services and I’ll never see Sal again. Sera, this is the third time.”
“No one’s going to take Sal away from you, Elle. You’re Matched.”
“It’s doesn’t matter. You can’t tell anyone. Anyone. Promise!” Her grip on my hand tightened, desperation evident in her strength.
“You can’t just sit here. We have to get you help, figure out why you’re bleeding. Come on, Elle, let me go get Sal. He’ll take care of you.”
“Don’t you get it? I lost the baby, Sera. I lost another baby. Oh, gods....”
After dropping my hand, Elle curled up tighter and slumped against the tile wall. Her shoulders shook as silent sobs broke free. Trails of salt streamed down her cheeks.
I didn’t know what to do. There was more to this than just an injury. How did someone lose a baby? Sualwets sometimes had unfertilized eggs, but that rarely mattered: there would always be more the next month. Wouldn’t Elle produce more? My mother had never talked about Erdlander bodies, and my books only briefly covered sex and childbirth, but this made no sense. Why would something so small make her so sad?
“I’m getting Sal.” I stood up and strode to the door, determined that someone who knew more about whatever was going on than me should be here with her.
“No!” Her scream was almost silent but stopped me nonetheless.
“You need someone, Elle. I’m sorry, but I don’t know what to do and you need someone who does.”
She closed her eyes and fell back against the wall. “Get Lace, then.” With tears dripping along her cheeks, she turned away from me.
I watched her shoulders as they shook. Despite my personal dislike of Lace, I hurried to find her.
Overhead lights dimly lit the pod’s main room. The chamber had no windows, although a small amount of moonlight spilled in from the kitchen. The soft blue illumination felt artificial and cold instead of natural and alive.
Lace’s orange door glowed a dirty brown, the perfect color for her personality. With a steadying breath, I opened her door. I didn’t care what she thought of me. Elle needed help.
Lace’s room was covered in fabric. The walls, the furniture—even the window had fabric draped across it. Small objects hung from the ceiling, making the room feel smaller still. The result was a warm, welcoming space—nothing like I’d expected. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find whips and chains mounted on the walls.
“Lace,” I whispered, stealing over to her sleeping figure.
She was sprawled on top of the blankets, facedown. Heat swam around her sleeping form, and the empty space on her bed called out to the exhaustion that lingered just beneath my awareness. But with Elle bleeding in the other room, I instead knelt next to Lace’s head and placed my hand on her shoulder.
“Lace. Come on, wake up.”
She mumbled in protest and rolled away from me. I climbed on the bed and grabbed her arm, pulling her over to face me. “Lace!” I hissed. “Get up, I need you.”
After sitting straight up, she pushed me, knocking me off her bed and onto my back with a thump.
“What are you doing in my room?” she demanded.
“It’s Elle. She needs you.” Once in a sitting position, I stretched my back. “And that hurt.”
Rather than answering me, Lace locked her eyes on my bare feet. My webbed feet.
I had forgotten shoes.
“What the jikmae—” Her voice rose as she glared down at me and stood, anger and hatred sharp in her trill.
Instead of retreating, lying, or panicking, I stood and met her eyes. “That’s not important right now. Elle is bleeding in the bathroom and won’t let me get Sal. She said she’d only talk to you.”
“She lost the baby?” Lace’s voice softened, and I nodded.
I had expected some kind of reaction to her seeing the truth of who I was, but instead all I saw were the beginnings of tears.
“Come on.” She strode out of the room without looking back.
In the bathroom, Lace waited for me to enter before closing the door behind us. There was no lock, but she took the small table used for supplies and wedged it under the doorknob. Her face was pulled tight, making her cheekbones stand out sharper than before. With her hair down, I expected her to be softer, but she just appeared feral.
“Start the shower,” she commanded without looking at me.
Two small steps brought me to the glass door, which held the water inside when the rain stream fell. I turned the knobs within, bringing water from above.
“Make it hot.” Lace’s voice was even, without inflection. She crouched on the floor next to Elle, whispering wordlessly. After removing Elle’s shirt and pulling her limp body against her own, Lace hauled the devastated woman upright.
“Come on, Elly. I’ve got you.” Lace struggled to move her, so I wrapped my arms around Elle’s waist and let her weight rest against me. “I’m going to take off your shorts now, Elle,” Lace said calmly.
As she peeled soiled clothing from Elle’s hips, her eyes grew wide and she blanched.
“It’s bad?” I asked, unable to understand what was happening. Losing a child must be hard, but it wasn’t born yet, and there were always more. Sualwet mothers often had litters ranging from eight to twelve, so losing just one couldn’t possibly be so devastating. And yet, as I stood with Elle silently weeping in my arms and watched Lace wipe bloody ooze from her thighs, I knew this was indeed a death.
“Can you clean her up?” Lace gazed up at me, the tears in her eyes spilling over and running down her cheeks. Even sorrow didn’t soften her, though. In place of pity or kindness, I saw anger and pain behind those tears. This must have happened to her.
I nodded and opened the shower door. Steam filled the room, saturating the air with thick heat. Elle didn’t resist as I ushered her naked body into the stream of water. Her shoulders sagged, bones no longer strong enough to bear her pain. Under the spray, I held her against me for fear she might melt and spiral down the drain like the pink water running off her body. My sleeping shirt drenched in her tears, clung to my body.
The closed shower door encased us in the stall. Elle’s head rested on my breast, her height noticeable with her so close to me. Without her usual buoyancy, her small stature seemed so weak. My arms circled around her back, and I
swayed, dancing with her under the waterfall. We rocked together, and her silence boiled over until her sobs choked me too. Her pain entwined with my body.
After a few moments, I pulled away and examined the damage. Her figure was unblemished, no marks or injuries I could see other than the telltale flow of reddish pink from her inner thighs. It was the things I couldn’t see that told me her heart had broken. Her eyes were locked away beneath downcast lids, her breathing erratic and hitched, as if weights were attached to her limbs, pulling her to the ground.
As she rested against the tile wall, I opened the door and grabbed a washcloth. Lace knelt on the floor, sodden white towels stained crimson on the floor next to her. She scrubbed the ground where Elle had been sitting, the cloth in her hand wet from blood and tears.
Elle waited for me where I left her, head turned to the side. I didn’t know this woman or understand her pain, and being this close, this exposed, frightened me. The emptiness pulled me forward, crumbling the walls between myself and others.
I wet the cloth and placed it on her cheek. Her face wasn’t dirty, but I hoped the contact felt safe and comforting. Would she let me wash her? She clearly couldn’t do it herself. With soft pressure, I smoothed her cheeks and ran my fingers across her closed eyes.
As we stood in the water, I hummed the songs of my childhood. The vastness of the sea flowed through me, an exploration of silence in hymn. The notes passed across my lips like whispered promises until her body was clean, all evidence of her trauma washed down the drain and surging away from the camp. Perhaps this small death would join my mother, wherever she may be.
I turned off the water and opened the door, Lace handed me a towel and kept another in her hands to wrap Elle in. I pulled off my shirt and dried myself as best I could before wrapping my hair in the towel.
“Put on that shirt.” Lace nodded to the sink, where a black shirt sat neatly folded. “And those are for you.”
On the floor before me was a pair of slippers.
“Thank you.” I stepped into the soft shoes and tugged the shirt over my head.
“Can you go get Sal and tell him to meet us in my room?” Lace refused to meet my eyes as she spoke, her focus completely on Elle.
Two Moons of Sera Page 20
