Crixus.
Crixus is in my LifeSuPod. He’s been here this whole time, knowing I was working my tail off to get this. He never said anything while in Tenebra. Instead, he let me risk my neck and any semblance of a decent citizen life serving Luc.
With a yell I slam my fist on top of the LifeSuPod lid. It doesn’t crack. It hardly even shudders.
Outburst expelled, I stand there. Numb. Staring.
Crixus’s connections are much cruder than Galilei’s—like he administered them himself. Half the wires and hoses aren’t connected, and those that are seem crooked. There’s a pool of blood near his arm where it looks like he inserted his own IV. I wouldn’t have been able to do that in four minutes.
What do I do now? I have nothing. My stomach is mostly empty, the LifeSuPod filled, and I’ve taken myself too far from the Adelphoi house for saving. I sacrificed my life for Galilei, sacrificed my chance to be with the Adelphoi, and got nothing in return.
I have a sudden urge to unplug Crixus’s LifeSuPod—show him what it’s like to watch life fade and be helpless to do anything about it. Instead, I turn away.
Anger pulses through my muscles and if I don’t get out of here I’m going to smash something. Or someone. I stalk outside and use my dwindling minutes bringing Galilei’s LifeSuPod into the cabin. I hardly pay attention to my actions as my thoughts swirl, but I maneuver it next to Crixus and get the thing plugged in. The battery is charging. That will have to be enough.
With whatever minutes or seconds that remain, I go to the small kitchenette and rummage quickly through the cupboards. One glass jar of coffee grounds, a few cans of baked beans, and an unopened bag of pancake mix.
Two minutes left.
Too late for pancakes. No can opener for beans. What can I do to maximize my last seconds awake? Panic? Eat?
Pray?
I try the tap. Brown water comes out first, but after a few spurts there’s clear water. I chug as much as I can until my stomach feels about ready to burst.
One minute.
I sense the nightmist before I see it and keep drinking until I sense the fog enter my mind. Then I stop. I don’t want to fall asleep with a mouth full of water and choke.
I don’t want to fall asleep at all.
Final Sleep.
I don’t want this life in Tenebra. A life of darkness with people who cheer at bloody gladiator games and create nightbeasts with unbridled emotions. When Luc first gave me the offer of eternal life in Tenebra, it had been enticing. I was afraid to die.
I still don’t want to die, but I’ve learned to value life differently, not living merely for the sake of breathing. I want to live for the sake of making a difference. To not waste the little time I have.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
It looks like that time is far less than I originally expected.
The nightmist billows in. I stumble to the small bed in the far corner of the room. Then I let the nightmist take me . . . for the last time.
I rise to a circle of mistblade gladii pointed at my heart. I’m back in Tenebra—forever, this time—and still in the white room where Galilei was kept. The bed is now empty.
The room, however, is not.
Tirones surround me—I recognize some faces from the attack on the catacombs. But one face stands out like a beacon. The one with the steadiest sword. Their leader.
“Crixus.” The name comes out in a growl.
“Welcome back, Cain.” He smiles like he knows. He knows I found his body in my LifeSuPod. He knows he’s denied me life.
My emotions surge, but something splashes my face and startles me out of them. Icy water. A tiro lowers an empty wooden bucket and lifts his sword again. It trembles a little, as it should. There’s no telling what I’ll create, and I’m not about to stop it.
“When are you going to start controlling those emotions, Cain?”
“You mean silence them?” Bottle them up until they fester and drive me mad. He’d like that, wouldn’t he?
“I mean dismiss the destructive impulses and nurture the proper responses.”
What was he, a therapist in real life? “Maybe I would have done that if my time wasn’t cut short.”
He nods to a tiro nearest the door. “Fetch the Emperor.”
I’ve done the math. In a worst-case scenario, a body can survive three days without water. Three days in the Real World is about two weeks in Tenebra. But since my body will be deteriorating, I probably have five days of good energy.
Five days until I lose what strength I have. At first thought, five days seems like a lot, but when I think about it as the end of my life . . . it’s only a single workweek. A fading workweek. A workweek with no recovery weekend.
I’m not about to waste them.
“Why am I being treated like this, Crixus?” I ask in a sarcastic tone while the tiro scuttles from the room. “I completed the Emperor’s greatest wish. I should be crowned and honored.”
“You’re no less of a threat than when you fell asleep the last time you were here.”
“I’m no threat.” At least not in this moment surrounded by swords. “But maybe I should tell Luc about his right-hand man? Reveal some secrets you’ve been keeping from him. I can’t help thinking Luc doesn’t know you’re in my LifeSuPod.”
