Chapter 3
Quinn
The bright lights buzzed under the soft sound of “Let it Go” from Disney’s Frozen, playing on a small TV in the corner of my hospital room. My heart rate monitor steadily beeped…
I looked up at the TV, filling my mind with pictures of a powerful, misunderstood woman casting off her bindings, and forced myself to breathe. I wouldn’t panic this time. It helped that my inner Ezra stayed silent. Calmly, I removed my hand from my head and really looked around my hospital room.
Beige, so much beige. There wasn’t a single flower or card. My dad would have left something. If nothing else, my therapist made a fortune off me; she would have sent me flowers. Or maybe I was thinking too highly of myself.
I closed my eyes, feeling Rowan’s arms and leaning into not just his physical strength but his support.
He would tell me I was worth flowers. I’d just had experimental brain surgery—Doctor Oz’s assistant would have at least left me some.
Bah, the flowers were not really the point. It was what they represented.
I’d spent too long questioning what was real to trust soft landings. When you’re dreaming, you wake up before you hit the ground.
The footsteps shuffled against the floor, and I opened my eyes to study Alex. His walk was nothing like Xan’s confident stroll, though his features were still surprisingly close.
I took a deep breath.
‘Yes, good girl. You’re in control,’ Ezra said in my head.
My heart fluttered. Ezra. I didn’t know what was going on, but this wasn’t my old life.
Every tiny detail of the dystopian future my delusional mind had come up with blew me away.
Before I even set foot in the Architect’s castle, colors and smells filled the world.
Bugs had eaten me alive as I wandered through the wilderness.
On that same horrible trek, I’d eaten something that had liquefied my insides.
Shitting my way across Scotland was not my favorite memory, but it was vivid.
I hadn’t left this bed to use the facilities once. And it wasn’t because I had a catheter in. The only thing hooked up to me was the heart rate monitor.
The low hum of voices could be from anything.
No sirens or alarms went off from other patients.
I didn’t hear carts getting wheeled by, nor had I seen or heard a nurse.
My blood chilled, and my heart rate monitor skipped a beat.
Was I still trapped with Cayden’s father?
Had Cayden failed? I swallowed hard, and my heart pinched.
I’d given my best friend everything in me and pushed it through the collar.
I swear I saw the ancient Prophet disintegrate, but my last memory was of cold.
I could barely see the blackness closing in on me.
I jerked. Was I dead?
Was this some waiting room in purgatory?
Wait.
When Horax first collared me, I’d tried to destroy the ring around my neck with my Majekah. It hadn’t worked, but something had happened. My vision had turned the same inky blue as Alex’s eyes, and someone had said something, right?
So much had happened between then and now that I couldn't quite remember.
I reached up to feel my neck, but Alex cleared his throat. “How are you doing?”
Folding my hands together on my lap instead, I gave him what I hoped was a comforting smile. “I’m fine. How are you?”
“’Fine’ has many meanings.” Alex opened a notebook and clicked his pen. He studied me. “I am also fine, thank you for asking.”
My heart raced. At our first meeting, I assumed he worked for the hospital, but now I wasn’t sure if I was really in one. So, who was he, and where was I?
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Where am I?”
Alex raised an eyebrow and wrote in his notebook. “You’re in St. Mary’s in Baltimore, in the inpatient recovery ward. Your surgery was successful, or at least that’s what I’m here to determine.”
I bobbed my head. Same hospital. No new details. “And you work for the hospital. That’s why you’re here instead of Rachel?”
“Assuming Rachel is your usual therapist.” Alex nodded. “Then yes.”
‘I’m in control.’ Ezra had said those exact words. Was he here? Could he see me?
I looked around the room again, but I didn’t see any glass that could be two-way or feel the hum of magic. I rested my hand against my stomach and felt only skin. My belly button ring was missing. I panicked and called on my Majekah, but the blanket stayed a blanket.
I was back in the hospital. My magic was gone. I started rocking back and forth.
‘Stay strong, Quinn,’ Ezra said in my mind. ‘Breathe.’
I did. One slow pull in and back out.
“You, unfortunately, passed out and had to be woken back up to complete the surgery,” Alex continued. I watched his mouth form the same question as last time. “...Why is that, Quinn?”
I didn’t know. Nothing made sense. I wasn’t in the hospital, but I wasn’t in the future either. Maybe I really had died. The concept that this was some waiting station, testing me to see whether I was going up or down, grew on me.
“Am I dead?” I asked.
Alex made a note in his notebook. “What makes you think you’ve died, Quinn?”
I turned my attention to the TV, but Alex must have turned it off. “I’m in a loop.”
Alex nodded. “Tell me all about it. I am here to help you.”
He wasn’t. If he were, he would have already answered my questions. But one of us had to give, and if he put me here, he already knew. I opened my mouth and started talking.
The bright lights buzzed under the soft sound of “Let it Go” from Disney’s Frozen, playing on a small TV in the corner of my hospital room. My heart rate monitor steadily beeped…
The loop vanished before it ended and always began with the words “Let it Go.” I’d woken up maybe twenty times now, and I spent all of them talking to Alex, who gave the appearance of being another piece of my loop but wasn’t. He knew I knew, but for some reason, he kept up the game.
I’d torn through the five stages of grief like a feral toddler in a toy aisle, and all that remained was an emotional husk holding onto two facts: I didn’t have magic… but I didn’t believe I was back in my time either.
I took a deep breath.
It could be worse. I could be in pain. The voices trying to break me could be back.
Or, if whoever pulled the strings controlled my senses, then this could all be a hellscape.
But I wasn’t getting any of that. Alex asked me why over and over, like a child desperate to understand something their brain couldn’t comprehend. It was mentally exhausting.
“What if I’m in a different dimension?” I asked Alex.
Alex raised an eyebrow and wrote in his notebook. “What makes you believe in multiple realities?”
I put my hands in the air. “Um, because magic is real, so why not?”
“So, your premise is: because magic exists, it justifies every possible existence. Do you not find that belief disturbingly close to religion?”
I hadn’t thought that deeply about my answer. I’d been trying to make a point. I hadn’t believed in magic, yet I found myself stuck in some weird loop after being questionably orgasmed by an actual mage who used magic to fight his dad, who was also his grandfather.
Anything was possible at this point.
However, Alex had gone deep, like off the deep end deep, and I wanted to know why. “What else would magic be other than a religion?” I asked as if that had been exactly what I was saying.
For the first time, Alex scowled. “Magic’s not a religion. It’s not a god steering our lives, and it doesn’t justify anything. It’s a limited tool.”
Right. So, we were done pretending this was the past. Alex had magic but felt it was a limited tool, although it seemed pretty unlimited to me.
I cocked my head to the side and twirled my hair. “Where does the stuff I put in my pocket-void go?”
Alex clicked his pen three times. “Your magic creates a vacuum between what is and what could be. Your ‘stuff’ exists inside your potential. It’s not another dimension. Magic has limitations, a lot of them.”
The last of my concerns about being trapped back in my time vanished.
When I tried to break my collar, pain had split my head right before my vision turned the same color as Alex’s eyes. He was a mentalist, one who unleashed his power inside my head and stole my memories. It was the only explanation that fit.
“I am, but I didn’t steal anything; just looked.” Alex smiled softly. “Your memories are so different and so sad.”
A chill ran down my back. Despite my hospital gown and blankets, I suddenly felt bare. I wrapped my arms around myself and rocked.
“I just wanted to understand you. I’ve never connected with an item I made before.” He reached out and placed his fingers on my neck, but they didn’t touch my skin.
I was suddenly very aware of the collar, even though I still hadn’t reached up to feel it.
“I’ve never really connected with anyone except your friend.” He smiled. “But that was so short, and when he left, they changed everything.” He pulled his fingers back and cupped his cheek. “I’ve been so lonely.”
‘Breathe, Quinn. I’m here. We’re doing everything we can.’ Ezra’s voice was so faint, but it was real. I wasn’t imagining it.
I sat up straighter. Fear crawled across my skin, making my hair rise.
“I like seeing your reactions because they're so genuine. So real.” He cupped his other cheek with his other hand and pouted. “Keep me company, please?”