Chapter 15 #2
I’ve managed to put all thoughts of last night toward the back of my mind, hidden from the light of today. Besides, I’ve been so busy I honestly haven’t been able to think hard about it anyway.
My frown pulls my lips further down as I stare at my clipboard. The little girl lying on the bed in front of me has a clean bill of health, just like Diggory had. Only I’m pretty sure there’s no way she made herself pass out.
I flip the top page up and look through every lab we ran. Her red blood cell count is still on the lower end of normal. Her hemoglobin and hematocrit are both within the lower range of normal, too, although none of these numbers are alarming enough to warrant keeping her here.
But I still feel uneasy.
Nothing about this seems all that normal.
Odette, of course, is all smiles. “Is my mother here to pick me up?”
“Soon,” I say, forcing a smile of my own. “I promise you’re getting discharged today. I just wanted to stop by to make sure you’re still feeling good.”
No matter what I think or say, I can’t defy the order that she be released, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be concerned.
“School tomorrow is going to be so fun,” she exclaims. “Everyone’s going to want to talk to me.”
Morphing my face, I shoot her an overly toothy grin and try to sound optimistic. “You should take it easy too. First day out and all. Maybe take a nap and dream of rainbows.”
“But I want to tell them about all the needles you stuck me with.”
“It was a lot,” I sigh before a forced chuckle comes out. “Wasn’t it?”
Odette shrugs. “It wasn’t so bad.”
A real smile curves up my cheeks this time.
I admire her and her resilience. But that’s children, I guess.
They’re adaptable—pliable. No wonder we put them in schooling while they’re still young enough to be molded into the box our society has shaped for them.
By the time they become adults, they’ll be waving the white flag, too tired to remember why they ever wanted more. Too tired to care anymore.
“Let’s get you out of this bed,” I say.
She scurries to her feet, excitement rapidly controlling her limbs. Her face pales suddenly, and I reach out to grab her waist just as she sways.
The clipboard in my hands goes crashing to the tile floor. The sound echoes around the room like a drum.
“I’m okay,” she insists, laughing. “Just haven’t stood up in a while.”
Her cheeks return to a rosy color, her eyes more alert, but I shake my head and grind my teeth. Every inch of my body wants to hold onto her for dear life. “Promise me you’ll take it easy.”
There’s nothing else for me to say. Nothing else I can do.
No, there is something I can do. Just not at the present moment. I have to let her walk out that door, otherwise, I’ll be taken in by a sentry for more questioning. And I doubt they’d send doe-eyed Rosalyn. It’d be a man, one with physical strength, this time.
“I will,” Odette promises as she skips toward the door. “Thanks, Saskia.”
Lucan flutters to the forefront of my mind. I think harder. Stress harder.
If he’s telling the truth, I can’t help but think about the stakes. If he’s right, then it means we’ve been trapped inside the Wall with twelve real Monsters this entire time.
Only the older citizens of Xantera are eligible for the Choosing, but children like Odette will eventually have to stand in the courtyard of the Blood Moon Palace once they receive their blue badges.
And by that time, they’ll be whittled into shape like the rest of us as the Guardians prowl out to Choose their living sacrifices.
What if something does actually happen to them after they step through those ancient doors? All of my healing will have been for nothing if my patients are being bred just for some of them to be slaughtered, as Lucan claims.
I can’t blindly trust a voice in my head, though. Even when that voice rattles through the most neglected parts of my body and mind, almost like its deep pitch is designed to ignite.
Following Odette out to the lobby, I watch as the sliding glass doors open and she runs into her mother’s arms.
A breeze gets sucked in through the doorway, causing a chill to seep into my bones. The kind where you can’t get warm until you’re standing under a hot shower.
But suddenly, I feel on fire.
Because I might know how to find out the truth for myself.
I don’t come to the Rec Center every Sunday, but when I do, I usually head straight for the cycling equipment on the second floor.
There’s something so hypnotizing about the constant motion, the exertion of energy that seems to wash away the stress of the day.
It’s my go-to whenever I’ve had a long week at the Healing Center.
Now, though, I step through the Rec Center’s rotating doors with Malcolm by my side, my eyes searching for a different target. Nobody talks when they’re cycling, so there’s no way I’ll be able to get the information I need among the exercise equipment.
“Malcolm!”
We’re hardly three steps inside when both of our heads jerk up at the voice of a man who approaches from the direction of the indoor game lawn.
He’s rather reedy and long-limbed, with thick-rimmed glasses, and a silver badge on his chest that means he’s only a year or two younger than us.
His inquisitive smile washes over Malcolm for a few moments before sweeping to me.
“And this must be your partner.”
“This is Saskia,” Malcolm says, and I notice that his cheeks have gained an unusual hue to them. “Saskia, this is my coworker, Walter. He teaches mathematics across the hall from me.”
I dip my head. “Pleased to meet you.”
“The pleasure’s all mine.” Walter’s gaze flutters back to Malcolm as if involuntarily. “Would you two like to join me for a game of croquet?” He gestures at the indoor lawn behind him.
Malcolm looks to me for approval. We’ve never actually gone to the Rec Center together before, but that incident with the sentry seems to have forged some type of real friendship between us, so he decided to accompany me today.
I give him what I hope is an encouraging smile.
“You go ahead. I think I’m going to try my hand at backgammon.
” I nod over at the alcove on the far left of the building, where several clusters of people huddle around tables set up with various card and board games.
I’ve never been remotely interested in such things, but what better way to get people to talk than to let it be known I’m clueless about how to play?
Men, especially, seem to love to teach women about the way of things.
“If you’re sure?” Malcolm arches an eyebrow, and when I nod, his gaze flicks back to Walter with that same hue rising on his cheeks again. “Okay, I’ll see you a bit later then.”
“Have fun!”
I watch the two of them head off side by side, Walter already saying something that makes Malcolm tip back his head in a laugh.
For a moment, I’m stuck in a trance, watching them retreat as the barest tinge of understanding settles in the back of my mind.
If Lucan were in my head right now, he’d probably bring it to the forefront so that I’d have to analyze it, but he’s not—I told him on Monday night that I needed to sort out my thoughts, and to my surprise, his howling has died down since then.
As if he’s trying to give me space to do exactly that.
Or maybe his throat is just sore. Centuries of howling in a murderous rage would probably do that to you.
A peal of youthful laughter echoes from the indoor play area nestled in the right-hand corner of the building, knocking me out of my haze. Immediately, I start for the alcove on the left, nodding politely at anyone who makes eye contact with me like I’m supposed to do.
The Rec Center is one of the largest buildings in Xantera, so even though it’s several stories high, the ceiling looms high overhead, and the air feels as cool and spacious as outside.
A few sentries stand guard against the walls, observing each activity with rather bored expressions.
Nobody has ever made a ruckus here as far as I know, and I don’t plan to change that today.
Still, I swear I feel the nearest sentry’s eyes on me, sticky like glue, as I weave around billiard tables to get to the other side of the floor.
Finally, I’m beneath the dimmer lights of the alcove, among all the people who love to play their games of strategy. I wander among the tables, my attention roving from face to face until I land on one I vaguely recognize. A past patient who was the chatty type, if I remember correctly. Perfect.
I’m willing to bet he’ll be the chatty type now, too.
Wafting over to him, I gesture at the empty chair across from him. “Excuse me, is this spot taken?”
“No, no, I was just looking for someone to play w—” His eyes flash up to focus on me. “Hey, I know you! You helped me with my eye infection a few years ago, didn’t you?”
I pretend to really study his features, then pop my mouth into a look of surprise. “Oh! Yes! Looks like it’s all healed now, huh? No more problems with it?”
Now that he’s mentioned it, I do remember all the hours I spent helping him flush out the pus that had been leaking from a particularly swollen stye. Not my favorite moments as a healer, that’s for sure.
The man waves a hand, his purple badge jostling with the movement.
“No more problems. You did a great job, I must say, a great job. Some of those other healers were squeamish about it, but you?” He belly-laughs, fiddling with a pair of dice on the table.
“You didn’t so much as wrinkle your nose, did you?
Well, I appreciate it, I appreciate it. Say, you know how to play backgammon? ”
“No.” I slide into the seat across from him smoothly, feeling the first signs of nerves ticking in my neck. “But I’ve been looking to learn. Do you think you could teach me?”