Seconds: The Shared Soul Chronicles

by Brindi Quinn

  “Ryon. Foster. Rye. Ryon. Fost-”

  When he heard the mad ramblings, his throat closed. It was happening. The secret was forcing its way into the light. Jobe shook his head. It couldn’t happen yet. He needed more time to accept things. He wasn’t ready, so he did the only thing he could. “You’re alive, aren’t you?” whispered the hunter. “You’re alive. You’re ALIVE.”

  After the third time, Tide believed it.

  ~

  Nero Yondo drummed his fingers against the top of his desk and let out a huff. He was waiting for the latest test results to come. If they didn’t come quickly, he’d be late for his meeting. He couldn’t have that. The southern investors would grow anxious.

  The shades in his office were drawn. His associates might’ve enjoyed the skytop view of the mech city, but he hated it. It was a constant reminder of the state of their dying land. A constant reminder that St. Laran was withering.

  “Sir,” said his secretary through the buzzer. “There’s someone here to see you. It’s . . . him. And he’s brought your daughter’s fiancé.”

  Nero let out another huff. He pressed the buzzer’s call button. Twice for yes.

  “I’ll be sending him in then, Sir,” said the secretary.

  Nero leaned back in his chair. A moment later, the door at the far side of the room clicked. In walked a man with shiny shoes. At his side stood a boy with an open book in his hand.

  “Hello, Nero,” said the lawyer. “I’ve brought someone to see you. It seems he’s changed his mind. He wants in.”

  Nero looked to the boy at the lawyer’s side. “Is this true?”

  The boy who was Tide Yondo’s fiancé nodded. “I saw her,” said the boy. “She’s weak. And Rye’s getting stronger. It’s only a matter of time . . .”

  “I understand,” said Nero. “I’ll make preparations.”

  “There is one thing,” said the boy. “One thing that needs to happen before we go through with it.”

  Nero Yondo rose to his feet. He walked over and set a firm hand above the wispy boy’s shoulder. “Anything. Name your price, Foster.”

  Across the city, in the district of Abardo, a Second was rummaging through his closet.

  “There’s got to be something,” muttered Rye. “There’s got to be something around here somewhere.”

  His hands found a box constructed from out-of-commission license plates buried beneath a stack of old newspapers. Rye pulled the box from its resting place and set it on the table. The small lock on it looked weak. Weak enough to break with a hammer for sure.

  “This?” he asked himself. Though he didn’t know the answer, there was someone watching who did.

  “NO,” said a voice in his head. “Not yet.”

  “You realize that just makes me want to open it more, don’t you?” said Rye.

  But Foster wouldn’t have any of that. Letting out a small cry, he pushed himself into full existence, and Rye fell into a limp pile. Across the city, Nero and his lawyer watched as the shadowed version of Foster reached solidification. The gray-toned boy closed the book in his hand.

  “You should’ve done that from the beginning,” said Nero, eyeing the book. “It’s not right for both of you to exist at the same time. All it’s doing is shortening your body’s remaining time.”

  “You should take your own advice,” said Foster.

  Nero knew his daughter’s fiancé was right, but he had a good reason for allowing her to run free. For a being as unique as she, getting used to the ways of the world was a necessity. Especially if he’d soon be leaving her.

  The demon grinned at the thought.

  Nero and Foster took no noticed and proceeded to discuss the terms of their agreement. Once things were set in stone, Foster left Nero’s office to return to St. Laran’s central library. Beyond the ancient texts and studying students, there was a room. A secret room for Mains that wanted to rest. A secret room for Mains that wanted to leave things in the hands of their Seconds and observe. Foster entered the room and joined the hundreds of depressed creatures that had once been whole. The hundreds of St. Larans that had given up on life and spawned Seconds. Foster couldn’t deny that the number was growing by the week.

  The gray boy settled into a too-cushy armchair and picked up a Bororore-bound book of many blank pages. With eyes zoned out, he stared into it, faded away, and allowed Rye to awaken once more.

  The frustrated Second let out a shout. “Darn it, Foster! That was LAME!”

  During Rye’s spell in darkness his body had moved from the living room to the bathroom, and the license plate box was nowhere to be found.

  ~

  “Honestly?!” sang Y. “A whole tartaroise?!” Though she’d never seen one, she was impressed. She sat on the edge of Tide’s bed that was adorned with salmon-colored throw pillows. “Hmmm. But you didn’t bring anything home from the dome again, huh?”

  “Nope,” said Tide.

  “Why? Are you saving up for something?”

  “Not really. I figured I’d let Jobe get whatever he wanted. It’s not like I need anything, after all.”

  “I suppose that’s true. So what’s your next mark?”

  “Well,” said Tide. “That’s the weird thing. They wouldn’t give us one.”

  “Haaa?! Why not?!”

  “Apparently the Judge put a hold on our licenses. The lady at the counter said we weren’t in trouble or anything, though. I guess he just wants to talk to us before we go out again. He won’t be in for a week or so, so in the meantime we’re supposed to rest up.”

  “That’s bizarre,” said Y.

  “Yeah. I’m trying not to worry about it.”

  “Good luck with that. By the way, how’d you get that monster all the way back to the dome?”

  Tide rubbed her wrist. “We dragged it, and I’m already feeling sore. I think a bath’s in order before I head over to . . . oooo . . . Never mind.”

  “No,” said Y. “You aren’t. PLEASE tell me you aren’t!” The orange-haired buried her face in her hands. “You’re going to see IT again?”

  Guilty, Tide scrunched her face. Y punched one of the pillows.

  “Damn it, Tide! Why? I really don’t get it! That thing isn’t a real person! It’s an illusion.”

  “You’re wrong, Y. You’d understand if you met him. Why don’t you come with-”

  “No way.”

  “Just one-”

  “NO!” said Y.

  “Fine.”

  Silence invaded the room until –

  “I gotta go,” said Y, scurrying to her feet and grabbing her backpack. “I’ve got a sculpture to finish.”

  “Y!”

  “Lookie, I’m not going to lecture you. It’s your own decision. I get that. But I just have to go. Otherwise I’ll stick my snout where it doesn’t belong. Just . . . think about it, okay? He could disappear at any time. My phobias aside, you could easily get hurt when dealing with someone like that.”

  That simple statement was something Tide Yondo hadn’t considered, but now that it had been uttered before her, it hit the young girl in the forehead like an arrow. A piercing, unrelenting arrow.

  “Disappear?” she muttered, wide-eyed.

  But Y slammed the door behind her before they could discuss it further.

  “Disappear?” said the princess again. No, she hadn’t given it thought before that day, but if Seconds could appear from nothing, surely they could evaporate just as easily. Frantic, Tide didn’t bother with a shower. She didn’t bother with tidying up. And she certainly didn’t bother with worrying about what she’d do if her father came home. None of those things mattered.

  She scribbled a note:

  I need to see you. NOW. Can you come to my place? I’ll send you the address.

  -Tide

  Ten minutes later, and she had a response.

  Sure! I definitely will! But . . . is that really okay? How am I going to get in? Don’t you have a lift patrolman or anything?

  -Ry
e

  That didn’t matter either.

  We’ll think of something.

  -Tide

  But in the end, they didn’t have to think of any sort of scheme to sneak him in. Tide had been waiting to receive a message from the front desk alerting her that she had a ‘messenger’ – Rye’s cover until they could think of something better – when she was startled by a knock at her apartment door. She opened it to a chipper boy in a green scarf.

  “Rye?! How did you get in?!”

  “It was the weirdest thing!” said Rye, throwing his arms around her. “They mistook me for someone else! Crazy good luck, I know.”

  “Someone else?” Chest thudding, Tide inhaled into his shirt and lightly squeezed him back. “Really?”

  “Yep! The bellhop called me ‘Ryon’. I was pretty surprised, but I obviously didn’t argue with it! Crazy that I might have an evil twin-”

  He stopped because Tide’s face had turned stark.

  “Ry . . . on?” muttered the mouth of the princess.

  Ryon: The name Jobe had mistakenly called Rye just hours earlier. That was the last thought that crossed Tide’s mind before the growling demon grabbed her and pulled her into darkness.

  . . .

  Rye stared at the vacant girl. He was silent for several minutes and then,

  “How?” he said, voice hushed.

  He wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger.

  “How?” he said again. “Tide, you’re a . . . Second?”

  The vacant girl said nothing, for the unseen demon was devouring her from the inside out.

  Chapter 11: The Empty Book

  The sepia thing seemed like a ploy plotted by the demon. The Second hated it. And at the same time, he loved it. Just as he loved and hated his Main with the same vivacity, so did he love and hate the sepia thing. There was nothing to be done but to burn it.

  “Yeah, eh-heh,” – Rye rubbed the back of his head – “you just kind of fainted.”

  “Sorry,” said Tide, embarrassed. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  Rye wouldn’t tell the princess the truth. He wouldn’t tell her about the absentness that had overtaken her. Instead he’d make light of it. Until he could figure it out, he’d keep it hidden. “Did you skip supper, Miss Huntress?” he teased.

  “Uh. Yeah. I did. I thought we could eat together.” Tide looked at her faithful cuckoo. “Was I seriously out for a whole hour? It felt like seconds.”

  “That’s what happens when you faint! Or so I’ve heard. Don’t let it bother you. I’m sure you’ll be fine once we get some food in you! Eh, tiger?”

  “Food. Right.” Tide smiled. “Let me see what I’ve got. Just to warn you, we miiiight have to order something.”

  “I’m fine with whatever!” Rye saluted her and settled onto her couch, but when she wasn’t looking, he studied her. It was worrisome. Her behavior during that hour had been like someone of his kind, but she clearly thought she was a regular person! Could a Second be unaware of what they were? Rye had never heard of such a thing. Plus, she didn’t have a tattoo! He’d checked her neck repeatedly, and there was definitely no mark there.

  “Yo, Tide! You got any tats?” he said.

  “Huh?” Tide was digging through her kitchen cupboards. “Tats?” She laughed. “No. Why?”

  “Nothing. Just wondering. So . . . before you passed out, was there a particular reason you spastically ordered me over?” He grinned. “Not that I mind. I could get used to being in high demand.”

  “Oh . . . that. Let’s talk about it after dinner, which, by the way, will have to be carryout – unless you’re in the mood for protein bars and cereal crumbs.” She shook the empty cereal box. “I’m sick of sushi. Do you like sukiyaki?”

  “Suki-yooki?” Rye wrinkled his nose. “Never heard of it.”

  “It’s good,” said Tide. “There’s a place a few floors down.” Rye was smirking, so she continued, “What?”

  “I knew you’d live on the top.”

  “This isn’t the top!”

  “Pretty dang close!”

  “No, there’s like,” – Tide gestured to the ceiling – “a few offices or something above me. Probably for the building manager and staff.”

  “Whatever, . . . spoiled.” Rye covered the ‘spoiled’ with a cough, but Tide caught it. She chucked a box of cereal at him – which he punched midair – then put her hand on her hip.

  “Let’s go, dork,” she said.

  Stronger than ever before, Rye felt that familiarity. He’d grown to love it, though, so he said nothing and – also choosing to ignore the mystery of Tide’s physical makeup – followed the pretty girl into the hallway.

  Later that night, after they returned from dinner, Tide still hadn’t brought up the ‘disappearing’ thing. She didn’t want to either. She sought distraction.

  “Want to see my treasures?” she asked a full-bellied Rye.

  “Treasure? Like, your jewelry?”

  “No. Stuff from my climbs. I even just added a piece of tartaroise shell.”

  “Oh! Sure. I’m glad it isn’t jewelry. I’d pretend to be interested, sure, but climbing souvenirs sound much more exciting.” He winked.

  Tide’s pulse, which had kept its cool for most of the night, started up. “Now, now,” she scolded under her breath.

  “Hm?”

  “Nothing!”

  She led him to her bedroom where her pillows were still disheveled from Y’s mini-tantrum. It was just another reminder of the topic being evaded. Rye leaned against the wall and folded his arms. “Cute room,” he said. But he wasn’t very sure of himself. It was his first time entering a lady’s chamber.

  “Thanks,” said Tide. She reached around the back of her armoire and retrieved the box of treasures. She gave it a shake. “Fancy, right? A secret hiding place and everything.” But Rye was distracted.

  “What’s that?” He pointed to the armoire.

  “What?” said Tide. “My armoi- . . . I mean, my dresser?”

  “No.” He dropped to his knees. “There was something shiny. When your arm bumped the back of it, I saw something underneath there. Is that where you store your cash? Are you like a dastardly little pirate?”

  “Huh? There shouldn’t be.” Tide set the box down and copied his crouch. “I don’t see anything.”

  Rye crawled forward and felt beneath the piece of furniture. After a moment he said, “Hm? Must’ve been a halluc- Oh-ho! What’s this?” He raised his brows cunningly. “A secret diary?”

  “Eh?!” Tide definitely didn’t have anything like a ‘secret diary’, but when Rye retracted his hand, he pulled along a thin book bound by a shiny Bororore sleeve.

  “So you aren’t a pirate,” said Rye. “You’re just a girly-” But he stopped when he saw the look on Tide’s shocked face. “Whoops!” he said. “I’m being way intrusive right now, huh? Here.” He handed her the book.

  “No,” said the princess, taking it. “That’s not it. I’ve just never seen this book before. It’s not mine.”

  Rye studied her to make sure she wasn’t kidding. Then he said, “For real? Then why’s it here? And all hidden too?”

  “No clue.” Tide flipped the thin book open. “And another thing:” She held it up for him to see. “Why is it blank?”

  “Blank?” Rye scratched his head. “Um, you bought it with the intent to journal, but never got around to writing in it?”

  That wasn’t it. Tide was sure she’d never seen it before. “Maybe it’s my dad’s . . . or something. But why would it be hidden in my room? I guess . . . I guess I’ll have to ask him?” She fanned through the pages. Blank. All of them. “Weird.” She tossed the book on the bed. Something fell out of it.

  “Ohp!” said Rye. “Looks like a clue!”

  “A clue, Rye? Are you feeling like a detective now, just because you discovered an oh-so-mysterious book?”

  But it was a clue of sorts. When Rye held up his hand, there was a tiny scrap of multi-color
ed old-metal pinched between his fingers.

  “Oh. What is it?” said Tide.

  “A part of a license plate,” said Rye.

  “Or-?” Tide squinted at it. “No! That’s a piece of the odd key! Wonder how it got inside of a creepy blank journal beneath my armoire?”

  “Creepy?” Rye snorted, and then, “Odd key?”

  “Yeah. I’ll show you.” Tide opened the box on her bed, moved aside the corroded thing that might’ve been a coin, and held up a little key on a chain. She dangled it in front of the Second’s face.

  Rye studied it. Tide was right. The top part of the key had been fused with a chunk of license plate, and there was a small piece missing.

  It was odd, yes, but more than odd, it was familiar. The moment Rye realized so – “Where did you get this?!” – he placed an eager finger behind the key and pulled it close to his nose.

  Tide was taken aback by his shift in excitement. “From a hunt,” she said, releasing the key so that its dainty chain fell silkily over Rye’s fingers. “Why?”

  “A hunt? For real? Which one?!”

  Tide frowned at the anxious boy before her. Why was he getting so excited about such a tiny trinket?

  “Which hunt?” said Rye again, eyes transfixed on the key.

  “That’s-” But when Tide tried to grasp it, the elusive memory ran away from her. “Uh, I’m not sure. I can’t remember exactly. Probably one from back when I first started climbing. Why?”

  “Because! Because, you know what, Tide?” Rye’s eyes, which had remained stuck, darted to hers, shiny with enthusiasm. “I have a hidden box at home too, and I know this sounds crazy, but I think this is the key that opens it!”

  From a few floors above them, Nero put a hand to his chest and wheezed. “Just checking in,” he said to himself. “I’ll leave them alone now.” He closed the blank-paged book before him. The shiny-shoed demon who was Nero’s lawyer nodded and patted the wincing man’s shoulder.