But can I betray my own soul to do it?
They are more important to me than Luc or Galilei. They’re more important to me than me, but they’re not more important to me than God. Somehow I know neither Luc’s life nor Galilei’s is mine to take in hand. Maybe He’ll give them to someone else, but it’s not me.
I have to trust.
I take a breath and flip the pancake.
When it’s done I transfer it to a paper towel on top of the counter and get another one cooking. I tear off a bite of the cooked one and stuff it in my mouth.
So what now?
I flip the second pancake as a thud comes from behind me. I whirl so quickly the pan flies off the stove, clattering to the ground. My eyes are fixed on Galilei’s LifeSuPod.
The thud comes again, with a cry this time, and the heavy lid of the second LifeSuPod pops open.
Crixus sits up so suddenly the IV is pulled out of his arm. He growls and grabs his arm to clamp the small spurt of blood. Serves him right for stealing my LifeSuPod.
Apparently he got killed in Tenebra too. Does that mean he turned on Luc?
He looks over at Galilei’s LifeSuPod, then at me. Neither of us says anything for a moment. Actually, I’m not sure what to say.
I pick up the dropped pan and hold it out to Crixus. “Pancake?”
“So you were a Spore this whole time,” he says.
I shrug. “I only just found out.” I wave a hand toward his body. “How did you get here? Well, I guess, how did you die there?”
“Tried to stab Luc in the back when he decimated you.”
I lift my eyebrows. “My great defender.” I pour the last of the batter into the pan.
“It wasn’t about you.” He detangles himself from the cords of his LifeSuPod and steps out. Joints crack as he stretches his arms over his head.
“Not an ideal time to reveal your duplicity.” I tear a pancake in half and wad the entire thing in my mouth. “So you missed, then?” I say in a muffled voice.
“Got his shoulder before he got my heart.”
Stabbed heart versus a thorough gutting. Not fun for either of us. “Why now? Why in the Arena surrounded by other tirones?” Was it possible Crixus attacked Luc solely to stop him from going after the Adelphoi?
He walks over and takes a corner of one of my pancakes, despite the fact that his body has been living off the LifeSuPod. Well, I did offer him one. “I did it for the people.”
“That’s a bit vague.”
“I am the noxior trainer,” Crixus states. “Almost everyone in that Arena is alive because of me. I trained and taught them and got them their citizenship.”
“They trust you.”
“For the most part. At the very least, they see me as a leader they’re used to following. If they saw me turn against the Emperor, perhaps they’d ask themselves why I did it.”
“You really thought that through,” I comment.
“Well, it didn’t work.”
“Maybe it did. You’re gone right now, you don’t know.” I flip the next pancake too early, and batter splatters the counter. This guy-buddies-on-a-camping-trip conversation feels itchy and refreshing at the same time. It’s surreal. Like if there were no virus or apocalypse we’d be friends who actually grilled over an open fire together or something.
“Why have you never joined the other Adel—Spores?” I ask. “They could have been a great support for you and you for them. All this time they’ve seen you as an enemy.”
He huffs. “What can they offer me?”
My reply is instant. “Friendship, for one.”
He turns an annoyed gaze to me. “Do I look like I need friendship?”
“Grinches and Scrooges need friends most of all.” I finish the pancakes and turn off the stove.
He shakes his head and moves to the window. “Look, you found a girl you like and that’s great. You’re new to the whole Spore scene—equally great. But even before the Nightmare Virus, I kept to myself.
“I went to church for almost thirteen years. Volunteered, attended regularly, and got lunch after service with various families. But when my daughter died, the pastor didn’t even know her name. I got one Sunday of ‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ and that was it. They held the funeral, but then they went about their lives. It was like I’d never been a part of them.”
Crixus had a daughter? How different was he before his daughter’s death? Grief changes people—I know that firsthand.
Crixus has been so stuck in his Old World experience of church that he’s missed out on being part of the new one.
“I’m going back to the Spores,” I say. “They need me, and I need them. That’s where life is, Crixus.” I look at him. “Come with me.”
“No thanks.” He tugs at the tube weaving from his LifeSuPod into the wall, checking its connection.
“C’mon. Give them another chance.”
