he won’t look in my eyes.
“I…” he trails off.
“Yes?” I ask.
He looks up and meets my eyes.
“Where were we taking this?” he asks, pointing at the crate.
My heart leaps into my throat and tears fall. I can’t stop them. I step around the crate and wrap my arms around his waist. I’m losing him. Faster and faster he’s forgetting, and I don’t know what to do. The fear is paralyzing but I can’t just do nothing. There must be a cure.
“The City,” I say, pushing words past the lump in my throat. He frowns and nods. “Come on, we need to move.”
I help him shoulder the straps and get the crate up on his back. Climbing back out of the ship proves to be a challenge, but we overcome it together, and at last we’re working our way across the desert.
“Hang on a minute,” I say, stopping and wiping sweat from my brow with the sleeve of my blouse.
I take the waterskin off my side. The water is warm but wonderful, washing the grit from my mouth and throat. I hand the skin to Shidan. He takes it and stares.
“Drink,” I encourage him. He stares at the skin, me, then the skin again. “Here.”
I lift his hands so that the opening of the skin moves to his lips. He takes a drink himself then hands the skin back. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and let it out slow. Stay calm. It’s all going to work out.
All this started because of the Invaders. I shield my eyes and stare up into the reddish sky, trying to see past the glare of the suns. Somewhere, probably in orbit, is a ship. A ship full of alien invaders who want… something.
The something is the problem. They showed up after the meteor showers repeatedly rained glass-like material down on the planet. We thought they wanted the glass as they seemed to be gathering it, but the meteor showers have stopped, and they haven’t gone away.
Ladon had a plan of some kind that he and Rosalind secretly cooked up. I know that much, and I’ve put together enough pieces to know that he went into the desert, and that’s where he got sick. There was a new guy from the Order there at the time too.
So either Ladon’s plan went wrong, and that made him sick, or the Order aren’t friendly like we’ve thought, and they infected him. If it’s the latter, we’re well and truly screwed. If it’s the first, well, we’re still screwed but maybe less?
Shidan moves next to me and places a hand on my lower back. I stop staring into space, turning to look at him. He’s staring off across the empty desert seeing… what?
“What are you looking at?” I ask. He looks at me but doesn’t answer. “Shidan?”
His jaw tenses, and he softly pushes me into motion, still silent. I walk at his urging. He moves his hand to my bicep, keeping me moving with him. He angles off to one side, the wrong direction for the City and keeps moving.
“Shidan, stop!” I say, jerking my arm free.
His face contorts as he turns to face me. His jaw is tense and fire burns in his eyes. He points at me, then moves his arm so its pointing in the direction he was taking us.
“No,” I say. “Shidan, talk to me. What is happening?”
He frowns deeper, opens his mouth, then it snaps shut. His tail goes deathly still, and his wings fold in tight. There’s a struggle happening in his eyes. He’s at war with himself.
“Home,” he says at last.
“Shidan,” I say, moving closer to him and putting hands on his chest. “Home is this way.”
I point indicating the direction to the City. He shakes his head and points back the other way.
“Home,” he insists.
Pressure builds in my head, unshed tears, sinuses blocking up as I struggle to keep it together. None of that is going to get us through this. He needs me.
“Shidan,” I touch his face, accenting my words. “Trust me. This way.”
He frowns and a soft growl escapes his lips, but then his face softens as I run my fingers over it.
“A-ma-ra,” he says, sounding my name out as if it’s new to him.
“Amara,” I say softly, one tear escaping. “Home. This way. Our son.”
His eyes widen. “Son?” he shakes his head, frowning deeper and then his eyes clear. “Malcolm!”
He exclaims it, a declaration against the encroaching darkness that is claiming his mind.
“Yes!” I yell