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Reclamation(182)

By:Sarah Zettel


“You will.” Arla dug her hands under his shoulder blades and with all the strength she had left, she forced him into a sitting position. “My Lord Teacher will not let this despised one down, not now that she knows who he is.”

He looked toward her namestone where it lay. “I am a slave,” he said. “I want to go back. I want to go back now so badly I’m only sitting here because I’m too weak to move. Garismit’s Eyes, they did a good job on us, didn’t they?”

“Not good enough.” Arla looked toward the bank of stones and remembered the Mind begging them not to make it work against the masters, not again. “Come on, get up.” She hoisted herself to her feet and was pleased to find she had the strength to stay there.

Eric looked up at her. “How can you be so calm?”

“Because I’m less afraid of trying to climb those ladders than I am of staying here,” she told him. “Can you get up?”

“Does nothing touch you?” he whispered. “We are … we were … this world is …”

“We are as we were born. We are the Nameless Powers.” Her shoulders sagged. “You were right about what we’d find down here. Now, please, Eric.” Her knees began to tremble. “Help me get out of here.”

Eric shook badly, but he stood. They leaned against each other, gripping each other’s arms for support and stumbled toward the archway. A blur of scarlet markings caught Arla’s eye and she stopped in her tracks. Someone had painted a pattern across the tabletop.

“What’s that?” she asked.

Eric looked at her incredulously. “You can’t read?”

Arla giggled. “Only Skyman’s languages. There’s a fine irony for you.”

Eric gave a dry chuckle. “It’s a message from Heart. He’s gone for help.”

“Good.” Arla managed to straighten up an extra inch. “Let’s make sure he can find us, then.”

They staggered out into the corridor. Weaving and tottering as if they were a pair of drunkards, they made it to the first shaft.

Arla looked up the ladder. “Do you think you can climb that?” she asked.

“I don’t think we have to.” Eric laid his hand against the wall. Overhead, the frozen platform began to sink toward them until it was level with Arla’s waist. She crawled onto it and sat hunched in the center. Eric collapsed beside her and pressed his hands flat against the platform.

Some vague echo of her connection to the Mind let her feel his power gift reach inside the platform and set it into motion. It rose steadily to the top of the shaft and then glided sideways down the corridor to the second shaft. Even then it didn’t stop. The walls held on to it as it rose again. Arla lifted her hands to shelter her head as they reached the hatchway. The momentum of the platform pushed it away.

When the platform was level with the top of the shaft, it stopped. Eric didn’t move.

“Come on, Teacher,” Arla said. The dome was a shambles. Everything had been overturned. Great rents in the fabric walls let in the fresh, warm wind. It was daylight again. Arla inhaled a lungful of air and felt her head begin to clear.

Eric still hadn’t moved.

Arla left him on the platform and staggered through the room, searching the stew of debris. After a little bit, she found a packet of ration squares and a can of some kind of beverage. She tore the packet open and gobbled one of the squares. Then she took the other and the can over to the platform. She sat in Eric’s line of vision.

“Eat.” She held up the square.

Eric crawled to her and clutched the square with both hands. He ate it in four bites. Arla pulled the top of the can open and took a swig of the juice. It was too sweet and there wasn’t enough, but it was better than nothing. She passed the can to Eric and he drank deeply.

When he lowered the can from his lips, his eyes were less wild.

“Thank you,” he said. After a moment, he added, “Do you think you will ever get tired of rescuing me?”

“I hope not.” She felt herself smile. “You need to be rescued so often.”

“Yes, I do, don’t I?” he swirled the dregs of the juice around. “Why do you suppose that is?”

“I would say it’s because my Lord Teacher spends too much time thinking about what he’s supposed to be and not enough time dealing with what he is.”

He looked out through one of the rents in the dome. “I thought we could leave when this was done,” he said. “I thought we could get the Unifiers to get us all out of here.”

Arla had no answer for him, so she let them both sit in silence and tried to just enjoy the feeling of some of her strength returning to her.