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I hope he’ll be in the mess hall and when I first walk in there are four Zmaj. They tend to dominate any space they are in due to their large size and one of them looks about right but as I get closer he turns and my hopes are dashed. It’s not Provyd.
I change my path and try to make it look like I never intended to go closer to that group. I keep one eye on them as I go through the food line and it looks like they’re watching me. That makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
Did Provyd tell them about me? That would be a typical guy thing to do wouldn’t it? Go tell your buddies about the crazy bitch who blew up at you when you did something. Do Zmaj do that?
Every time I glance over in their direction at least one of them is looking in mine. I set my plate aside, grab a hunk of bread and a piece of the weird fruit stuff the Zmaj introduced us to then head out of the hall.
I tear off a piece of bread and chew on it angrily. He’s talking about me. Probably bad too. Of course he is. Why wouldn’t he? I’m the mad girl. The one with the temper. The poor little scarred girl that no one wants and when one person is nice to me I yell at him.
I get my day’s assignments, my cleaning supplies, and go to where I’m supposed to work. It’s nothing special, just a set of rooms I’m to clean. When I arrive the room is empty of people. Steel tables, all fastened in place, are arranged around the room, individual work stations. I set my supplies down and then survey the work.
Walking up to the first table there is a piece of paper. I pick the paper up and a leaf falls off. Frowning, I see my name is written in a scrawling script on the paper and a single word, sorry. I pick up the leaf. It has that fading soft glow just like the epis that Provyd gave me before. I stare at the leaf and then at the paper.
Great. Now I feel worse than ever. I’m the meanest, nastiest person of all time to him and he gives me more magic plant? Is he trying to get me high? Is that his game?
“Stop it,” I mutter aloud. “Can I please not be a bitch for a little while? He’s being nice. That’s it.”
I frown, shake my head, then take the leaf in my mouth. The sensations and taste are very similar to the first time. And, I do feel better. The ache in my scars eases and there is a sense of calm that is nice. Unusual for me of late.
I set to work while chewing on the leaf.
9
KAI
My shoulders ache something fierce as I put away my supplies. The day’s work done again. My routine now is to go to the mess hall, find portable food, take it to my room, eat, then stare at the ceiling until I fall asleep, rinse and repeat and another day will happen.
The flavor of the epis lingers on my tongue though. Or maybe that’s only my imagination. It’s hard to be sure, but one way or another I want to find Provyd. I want to apologize for the way I acted. It was uncalled for and he did nothing wrong. I close the closet door, turn, and bump into someone.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, taking a step back and only then realizing it’s a Zmaj I bumped into.
“You are Kai?” he asks.
I stare through the curtain of my hair unsure who this alien is. It’s not Provyd. I’m sure I’ve seen him around but I’ve not paid any attention to the individual Zmaj before now. Yet he knows my name.
“Yes,” I say, taking another step back from him and darting a glance around.
We’re alone in this room and he’s between me and the one exit. Cold pimples form on my arms. This could be bad. Is he here to punish me for the way I acted?
Do I deserve any less?
“Good,” he says, nodding. His tail twitches with that raspy sound they make across the floor. Fear makes my belly clench tight around a hard ball that is cold as ice. “Would you come with me?”
“Do I have a choice?”
He frowns, tilting his head to one side.
“Of course,” he says, shrugging.
“Then I choose no,” I say, stepping to the side but half expecting him to grab me as I do. I’m surprised when he doesn’t move to intercept.
“Oh,” he says, his shoulders drop in what I can only interpret as disappointment. “Okay.”
I sidle towards the door, uncertain of what I’m doing, still acting out of fear.
“Where did you want me to go?” I ask.
Why? Why did I ask that? I don’t care. I need to get away.
