Chapter 12 #2
“Ms. Laurentia, Mr. Wynstann, and Luminary Alpin, you’re on duty for the next twelve.
We’ll switch out at dawn. Be sure to follow protocol when you are entering and exiting the quarantine ward.
We can’t be too careful, especially since we’re all in an enclosed space.
” He gestures to the Chronogram on his wrist. “Handbook is here in case any of you need review. Especially you three.” He points at Amaltheia, Wynstann, and Tullia.
“I’m not sure of the last time you all dealt with a deadly virus, but it would be good for you to refresh your memory on appropriate protocol.
Above all else, please remember to cast a shield or mask and don appropriate protective gear before entering.
You are all precious on this ship, the only medical personnel we have for the next four months. We can’t have you catching the Fever.”
They all nod, and Luminary Oswald claps his hands again. Kit thinks this will be an annoying habit. “That’s all. You may head to your respective postings now.”
Kit wishes she was on duty tonight to keep her mind occupied. With Nevis caring for the ambassador, she’s left wandering aimlessly through the corridors, trying to find the library or the mess hall.
Instead, she runs into Finn, who’s emerging from a door at the end of a hallway on the third floor. He smiles at her and her stomach flutters, though she doesn’t want it to. She wishes it would behave itself and quit remembering what it used to feel like with him.
“Kit,” he says, walking down the corridor towards her. “I was about to grab dinner. Do you want to join?”
Kit shrugs, says, “Sure,” nonchalantly, though of course she wants to join.
She just wants to be near him. Something about him makes her feel safe and warm.
Being so far away from Lumaria now, from her father, from her mother’s final resting place, he’s a lifeline of sorts, something that connects her to her roots.
He falls into step beside her, flicking his wrist to pull up a map of the Polaris on his Chronogram so he can direct them to the mess hall.
She missed this, the way he takes charge, so she doesn’t have to think about everything.
The way they slip back into it is comfortable and familiar, and she almost wants to lean into him like she would have a year ago.
She stops herself, reminding herself this is strictly platonic.
Finn is no longer her boyfriend, or her anything.
Even if it’s comfortable, there isn’t anything there anymore.
“My sister?” Finn asks as they walk.
“In the quarantine ward,” Kit says, “on the lower deck. Nevis is on duty tonight. I’ll take over at dawn.”
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping then?” Finn shoots her a glance, and Kit feels a flash of anger in her chest. She also remembers this part of him, the part that always thought he knew better.
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Kit snaps.
Finn raises both of his hands as if in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Old habits.” He smiles at her sheepishly, as if remembering one of their last fights before they broke up. “This way,” he says, grasping her elbow and steering her to the right.
Kit’s skin tingles at his touch, her heart lodged in her throat. She forgot what touching him felt like, how powerful it was to her. “She’s in good hands,” Kit says, returning to the topic of his sister, trying to breathe as Finn’s hand remains on her elbow.
“I know,” Finn says, softly, keeping his hand there as they enter the mess hall. “But Pru wasn’t doing well to begin with and transporting her from the Center to the ship was…a disruption.”
Kit is well aware. If she’d been a stronger person, she would have recommended that Finn’s sister stay behind at the Center.
But she felt for Finn and wanted to help keep his family together to the extent that she could, since she couldn’t do anything about her own.
And she’s confident in her abilities. Sort of.
There’s a niggling feeling she carries with her, that all these people have misplaced their faith in her.
She’s never faced anything like this, battled against a ticking clock in this way.
She knows if she doesn’t come up with an antidote soon, Pru is as good as dead.
The way the disease is ravaging her, she’ll be lucky if she lasts the week.
Kit feels a pit in her stomach, and resigns herself to spending the evening in the library trying to find anything about the Raxian Flu, a rare outbreak that killed off over one million people on Oraxia over a thousand years earlier.
Maybe there’s some link she can find, or something that will help to identify the magical signature that has thus far remained elusive to them.
“I promise you, Finn, I will do everything in my power to help her,” Kit says as they move through the line, silvery packets and tin mugs on their plates. Kit frowns at the packets, having never seen anything like the food on her tray before.
“Thank you,” he says, guiding them to a table near the viewport. They’re high enough now that she can see the entirety of Lumaria, wisps of clouds encircling the blue planet.
They sit, and almost immediately, Kit’s neck prickles. She glances over her shoulder and sure enough, Task is there, sitting with a golden-haired man dressed in the uniform of the Force. As soon as their eyes meet, he smirks at her, then turns back to his conversation.
She turns back around, hoping that Finn didn’t see it. “Who’s that guy?” Finn’s eyes are narrowed as he rips into the silver packet in front of him, dehydrated vegetables falling on to the tray.
“Nobody,” Kit says quickly. She wants to mean it.
“He looks important,” Finn muses, squinting as if that will help him to better see the rank on Task’s shoulder, the pin on his high-collared tunic.
“If the Hand to the Governor of Nexarium is important.” She shrugs, knowing full well that he is important, but doesn’t want to lend credence to the overinflated sense of self Task already has.
She also thinks it strange that there was no formal introduction of the people commanding this ship, an explanation of the hierarchy on board, the way in which Lumarian and Nexarian citizens are supposed to cohabitate for the next four months.
She already feels a tension on board, a nervousness in the air that she thinks will only become worse the longer they’re all made to exist together in one enclosed space.
Finn shoots her a look, a bit incredulous. “Surely you know that’s one of the most powerful positions on Nexarium.”
Kit scoffs, bringing her tin cup to her lips. “Of course. I was being facetious. His ego is already the size of Syndaris.”
Finn studies her a minute longer. “You know he’s rumored to be the heir to the governorship, don’t you? Which means his power, whatever it is, is something we’ve never seen on Lumaria. None of the things we have would compare.”
Kit raises an eyebrow. “Like what?”
Finn shrugs, frowning. “I couldn’t even imagine. Probably something dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” Kit hadn’t considered this. She also should have considered that Finn would know more about these mysterious people than probably anyone else aboard this ship, being a professor of society and magic.
“All of Governor Dormius’ High Council have manifested one of the Eight Greats,” Finn explains.
He must see Kit’s puzzled look, because he goes on.
“They aren’t powers we have on Lumaria, or any of the other planets in the Consortium.
Mind-reading, life force manipulation, memory warping, time warping, divination, enchanting, pain echoing, and power manipulation. Each one is dangerous, in its own way.”
Kit absorbs this. It means that Task must have one of the Eight Greats, though which one it is, she doesn’t know. She promises herself she’ll pay closer attention, try to find out. She hopes it’s not mind-reading.
“I’d steer clear of him.” Finn’s voice breaks through her thoughts.
Kit wants to roll her eyes and echoes her sentiment from earlier. “I can take care of myself.”
“Not against their powers, you can’t,” Finn says, spearing a dehydrated vegetable with his fork. “None of us can.”