“You know what? You and Scout can deal with this. I have to get to the bridge.” Her face softened. “Are you free tonight for dinner? I missed you last night. I was kind of hoping you’d share my box … er, my room.”

Viera shifted her gaze to Scout when Thorn said ‘box,’ but the boy had taken off down the hall after the missing ven.

Thorn stepped up to her and lifted Viera’s chin for a kiss. “Is that a yes? Tonight? I’d like to be around you when we go through the GPS so you’re not alone, and then, you know, watch over you until we both wake up.” Her grin was devious.

Heat made Viera feel alive and excited way too early. Despite the baby ven using her as their play structure, she placed her hands on Thorn’s hips and smiled. “That all sounds great, though not soon enough.”

Thorn leaned down for one more kiss before turning on her heel to head for the lift. “Oh! And no ven!”

Viera laughed as Scout ran up. “Okay, let's get them all back in the room. Have you eaten?”

“Nope. I was about to head off to find food.”

He slumped. “Thank goodness. I’m starving.” He darted into his room and the sound of hard ven food hitting bowls echoed out. As quickly as they attacked her, the baby ven were gone.

She laughed. “Traitors. You only want food!”

Scout darted out, shutting his door. “Do you blame them? That’s all I want, too.”

***

They found Tiffany sitting alone at a table. They both sat and, after deciding what they wanted, Scout headed to the kitchen to pick up their order.

Viera considered the girl. “Why are you here alone?”

Tiffany shrugged. “My parents said they’re on …” Her forehead wrinkled as she thought. “They said a thing where they don’t eat because they’re mad at Scout’s mom.”

“A hunger strike?”

The girl’s face scrunched up even more. “Maybe? I’m not sure.”

Viera huffed in frustration. “Does anyone know that they’re not eating because they’re upset?”

“They said their absence would speak volumes. And, well, I guess it did since you noticed.”

With a shake of her head, Viera thought about what she’d do with the information, if anything. Three days won’t kill the parents, and their passive-aggressive strike is a bit obnoxious. It isn’t like anything can be changed mid-flight. Save me from adults acting less mature than my students. “I guess I did notice, but mostly because I care for you.” She reached over to squeeze Tiffany’s hand. “I don’t think I’m the person they wanted to notice.”

Before Scout got back, Betsy arrived. She sat at their table next to Tiffany and across from Viera. She already had a plate with bacon, eggs, and toast. “Morning, everyone. I hope you all slept well.”

Tiffany shrugged. “I did, but I miss the water. We don’t even get water to shower with. It’s so weird. I hope it’s different at the space station.”

Betsy gazed at the two of them then took a sip of coffee. “I didn’t see you yesterday, Viera. I thought maybe you missed the ship.”

Juniper took the seat on the other side of Betsy as Viera said, “I found the kids and started playing games with them. I learned some of the chanziian colors.” One of Betsy’s eyebrows rose. Viera sighed. “Like my top, it is su-nor, one of my favorite colors.”

As she finished her example, Scout put down their plates with a loud snort. Her coffee splashed out a bit, and she sighed. Picking up the mug, she took a sip. She really needed liquid ambrosia this morning. Betsy’s eyes danced and Juniper giggled softly. “Okay, what did I say wrong?”

Juniper’s warm eyes crinkled at the side. “Su-nor is coffee; tsu-nor is purple. We can go over all of this more slowly if you’d like, later on. I’ve set up a tablet for you, so you can practice with seeing the words. I think it’ll help. Though, you’ll need to learn the alphabet first, which isn’t easy either.”

Scout sat sideways in his chair, facing her. After Viera took another drink of her coffee, she placed the mug well away from the edge of the table, or the boy, who still seemed animated from playing with the ven.

Viera turned to Betsy. “So, we didn’t see each other, but a certain stick is in my closet. I don’t know how or why, but it appeared when I checked yesterday and again this morning.”

Betsy ran her fingers through her hair, front to back. “Well, hell. That thing must be attracted to your magic, and when you moved too far away, it followed, like a good pup. I guess we’ll have to give in to inevitability. Maybe if you start carrying it around it will calm your magic down and help you to focus.”

Viera’s eyebrows shot up. “You think so?”

“Maybe.”

Scout asked, “What stick?”

Viera shot Betsy a look, but she nodded. “If you’re going to be carrying it around, people will find out anyway.”

“Gandalf’s old walking stick.”

Scout’s jaw dropped before he swung his hands out in disbelief. His left hand flew over the table and knocked over her coffee—her salvation, her ambrosia. It flew at Tiffany, scalding hot coffee hitting her in the chin and arm.

Her eyes widened, just as Viera yelped, “No!” Both hands up in a double stop sign position, as if that would stop anything.

Oh my God, I have to fix this. The poor girl is going to get a burn, maybe even blister. She’s had a hard enough life; she doesn’t need that. Viera faced Betsy, “What do we do?”

It suddenly sunk in, all the sounds from the room had stopped. No one moved, nothing shifted, it didn’t look like anyone breathed. The coffee had just reached its target, the red of the burn barely beginning.

What the hell? Did I stop time? Looking around the room, everything … everyone looked like statues. How long can I hold this?

Viera stood, slowly circling the table. She wanted to move Tiffany away from the coffee, but the damage was done. God above, if I can stop time, why can’t I do more? She closed her eyes and thought as hard as she could—undo undo undo undo!

When she opened her eyes, everything in the room looked exactly the same. What the fuck is the point of stopping time if I can’t fix this? Is there a way to undo this damage?

Her path around the table ended at Betsy. “Why can’t you help me? Why are you frozen in time, too? You’re my helper, you need to help me!” She knew she sounded frantic, eyes moist with unshed tears, but she didn’t know what she was doing.

Viera swung her hands out in desperation. “I need help!”

Gandalf’s walking stick appeared in her right hand. Her jaw dropped open. “What the fuck are you doing here? Are you going to help me? Do you have some sort of solution?”

The stick pulsated in her hand.

She snarled. “That isn’t an answer.”

Knowing she was being unreasonable, she clutched the walking stick and shut her eyes. She had to figure this out. Why can’t I reverse time if I can stop it?

Her mind slowly stopped spiraling, the pounding in her chest slowed, and it almost felt like a cool breeze ruffled her short hair. Viera finally took a slow, deep, breath. Like walking a path in the woods, her mind found a rhythm, and slowly, the patterns appeared. The walking stick warmed.

When she was young, her grandmother taught her to knit. She wasn’t good, and she only had the patience for small things, like hats or scarves. Sometimes, in the middle of a row, something wouldn’t look right; her grandmother told her to pull the yarn, undo the stitches, and respool the yarn in the skein.

Viera imagined doing that with the conversation and coffee. She only needed to pull a few stitches—moments—until the coffee was all back in the mug. Her mind replayed the coffee mug being hit, and Scout’s dramatic reaction. Once she knew what she wanted, Viera released her magic and nearly fell to the floor.

The cacophony of sound hit her, then arms grabbed her, leading her to the table. “You need to eat. After that, we need to visit Flower Prancer to discuss what just happened.” Betsy sounded concerned.