As I pass the rows of spines, I wonder how we stand a chance against someone who knows us better than we know ourselves.
At the other end of the sitting area is a set of swinging double doors. Inside is a medical bay with curtains hanging from the ceiling between hospital beds, but only one set is drawn around the sole patient.
I race past Blaze and shove back the black curtains.
Nishi.
I drape myself over her chest and clutch her to me, my breaths loud and labored. I found her. She’s alive.
We’re together, and it’s real.
“Rho, move back so they can help her,” says Blaze, and I look up to see a pair of Leonine healers coming over. I step aside without letting go of Nishi’s hand, and I watch as they inject something into her system. Nishi suddenly grips my fingers, and I gasp—but the others don’t seem surprised.
“It just means the injection’s kicked in,” explains Blaze. “Now it’s up to Nishi’s mind to wake up.”
“I remember,” I say through gritted teeth. “Leave us.”
“But Aquarius said to offer her the best care—”
“And I will,” I say, glaring at him. “I want you all out of here. Go tell Aquarius if you want, but I’m sure he’ll instruct you to follow my wishes.”
“Okay, then,” says Blaze. “Let’s go.”
I shut the curtains around us and sit next to Nishi, taking her hand again. Since she’s already faced her worst fear, the antidote shouldn’t take long to work. But I watch her for hours, and her eyes never open.
At one point, Blaze comes by and drops off food for me, but I don’t touch it. He offers to escort me to my quarters, but I ignore him until he goes away.
“Please, Nish,” I whisper, late into the night when the lights have been dimmed and the whole place is silent. “Please wake up. I’m so sorry I left you for so long, but you’re safe now, I promise. You have to fight for this. Please fight. I need you.”
I must doze off at some point, because the next thing I know I jerk awake to find Nishi’s eyelids blinking open.
“Nish?” I whisper, my voice thick with hope.
Her amber irises find mine, and her hand twitches, so I squeeze her fingers. “I’m here,” I say, cupping her face with my free hand. “You’re okay. Just follow the sound of my voice,” I go on, repeating everything I remember the Ariean healer saying to me. “Inhale deeply, then exhale, but take your time. Blink once if you can feel my hand squeezing yours.”
She blinks.
“Good. Can you try squeezing back?” I wait to feel something, but nothing happens. “It’s okay,” I say soothingly. “You’re okay.”
Her fingers suddenly clamp down on mine, and my face splits into its first smile since Pisces. My shoulders fall and a pressure eases behind my eyes, and only now do I realize how tightly wound I’ve been this whole time.
Then Nishi’s lips part, and she whispers hoarsely, “I knew you’d find me, Rho.”
22
THE SECOND THING NISHI SAYS is, “You’re not real.” Her expression falls, and what little color she had recovered begins to fade.
“I am, Nish, I promise,” I whisper, squeezing her hand firmly, but her fingers are limp and panic is exploding in her eyes.
“Nish,” I plead as gently as I can. “You’re safe, I swear it.”
Her whole body stiffens, her shoulders peaking up, her hand twitching in mine. She doesn’t trust me. “I know you’re scared,” I say, stroking her dark hair. “So how about we just sit here and wait for a bit?”
Nishi nods her head slightly but doesn’t say a word. After almost an hour of holding hands in silence, she finally seems to relax, and I try talking to her again. “How do you feel?”
“Confused,” she finally answers, sitting up. I grab the glass I left on the counter, and I slowly tip the water into her mouth. When she wraps her own hands around the glass, I let go.
After a few sips she asks, “Where are we?”
“With the Tomorrow Party.”
“Why did they let you come to me?”
“What do you remember from what I told you in the Sumber?” I ask tentatively.
She takes another drink of water. Then she hands the glass back to me and says, “Crompton is the master.”
I nod. “He gave me permission to see you. I don’t know why—but I’m not questioning it. I just want to get you back to the others.”
Her eyes grow alarmed. “Rho, we have to get out of here now, before the Party members come for us. The master will never let us go—”
“Shhh, calm down,” I say. “First you have to recover your strength. We’ll worry about everything else once you’re better. We’re safe for now.”
“How? How are we safe, Rho? These are the same people who shot us with the Sumber in the first place—”
“Just trust me, Nish,” I say, my voice firmer than before. “I’ll protect you—I swear it on my mother’s life.”
The ceiling lights suddenly brighten, and I hear footsteps. I get to my feet and position myself in front of the bed, my Barer at the ready in case I need to defend Nishi.
One of the healers pokes her head in through the curtains. When she sees that Nishi’s awake, she looks pleased. “May I check her vitals?” she asks me.
I nod, and she comes in and reviews the data flashing on the holographic screens. “Everything looks good,” she says at last. “But you’ve been under for so long that your muscles need rehabilitation. We can pop you into a healing pod if you’d like to expedite things—otherwise, you’re looking at a couple more days in here.”
“She’ll take the healing pod,” I say before Nishi can speak. There’s no time for an extended hospital stay.
“Actually, she’ll heal naturally,” says Nishi testily.
I turn to her. “You need to get better faster than that.”
“I’m not going inside the healing pod,” she says, her voice loud but shaky.
“Why not?”
She drops her gaze, and suddenly I realize I know the answer. She doesn’t want to go back to sleep.
How could I not anticipate that fear when it’s tormented me, too?
“We have dreamless sleeping tonics,” says the healer gently, understanding the problem as well.
Nishi perks up a bit at this news, but then she abruptly turns to me, concern resurfacing in her eyes. “I’ll be right here when you wake up,” I assure her. “I promise.”
She nods in agreement, and the nurse and I carry Nishi between us. Once she’s sealed inside, the pod runs a scan, and then the total time it will take to heal Nishi flashes on a screen. While the nurse sets the program to begin, I step through the double doors and leave the medical bay.
In the sitting area, I spot a small stone table with two plushy armchairs on either side, and Aquarius is sitting in one of them, reading the holographic news projecting from his Philosopher’s Stone. His skin is still glowing like a star.
“I brought you breakfast,” he says, gesturing to the tray of food on the table. “How long do you have?”
I frown at his generosity and guardedly say, “The healing pod opens in fifteen hours.”
“Excellent.” He waves the holographic screens aside and takes a sip of his tea. “Then we’ll make the most of our time together before you have to return. Would you like a nap or a shower?”