Chapter Thirty-One
Mal
That woman was magic. Lena Drask was a source unto herself.
Mal was just as convinced of her importance as his commander.
All it had taken was one song. He had vided Ev afterward, and they had talked about things Mal had never talked about with another person.
They had talked for hours every day since then.
They spoke about the little things. The type of food they liked.
What they did when they weren't working.
Those sorts of things. Mal told Ev about the underground, and Evellor told Mal things about life in a flying city.
It all sounded magical to Mal, as magical as Lena Drask.
It was late, but Mal lay in his bunk unable to sleep.
He just stared up at the metal frame above him.
He had just finished his latest vid with Evellor, and he felt .
. . anxious? Eager? He needed action. These new emotions were confusing, but Mal knew one thing with absolute certainty—he was done with the underground. Done living without Evellor.
Thoughts spun through Mal's mind; plans came to him only to be discarded.
Then something real formed. It was simple.
He had to get out of the fortress and into Evellor's arms. To do that, he needed to get the ward down.
Thanks to the commander debriefing them in the room next to the command room, Mal knew where the controls for the ward were.
Now, he just needed to get everyone out of the command room so he could use them.
“Hey, are you having trouble sleeping?” Private Ruus, in the bottom bunk across from him, whispered.
Mal looked over. “Yeah. That song keeps spinning through my head.”
“I know what you mean. Since the first time I heard her sing, I haven't been able to get to sleep without one of these.” He tossed Mal a little container that rattled.
“What is this?” Mal looked at the cylinder and read a strange word printed on it.
“Medean medicine to help you sleep.” Ruus was a healer. He worked in the fortress's med hall.
Mal sat up. “Medicine?”
“Yeah, they're pills. You take one, and you'll be asleep in five minutes.”
Mal opened the cylinder and looked at the pile of little white pills. “Five minutes?”
“Yup. I promise. Keep that bottle. I can get more. If you want it to work faster, crush it up and put it in some juice. You won't even taste it.”
“Thanks, Ruus.” Mal got up to get a glass of water.
“No problem.”
As Mal watched the water pour from the bathroom's faucet into his glass, a plan formed at last. A good one. He grinned into the mirror and swallowed a pill. He had to know how strong they were.