It had been a full day. I’d fallen asleep. And now I searched outward, as I’d done on other nights. Seeking. Wishing.
Jorgen…I tried to find him, but felt like I was screaming into an empty void. I couldn’t feel anything. Like…like I was building a bonfire in a dark place, but with each new log the increased light only reaffirmed that the blackness extended into infinity.
I’d failed at this often enough recently that I nearly faded into unconsciousness. I had important work ahead of me; I would need to get my rest.
And yet…
Something felt off about my experiences lately in this sleeping realm. Yes. This was wrong. I hadn’t been able to see it before. But with a few more test shouts, I thought I picked out what was wrong here. My mental shouts were vanishing too quickly. As if I wasn’t screaming into a void, so much as into pillows.
Was…someone blocking me?
Scud. Was that why I hadn’t been able to find Jorgen?
I growled. Well, I made the mental equivalent of a growl. As one does. My soul sparked in the darkness.
I pressed forward through the void, feeling… Yes. A dampening. Like a cloud all around me, invisible. In the strange ways of the nowhere, it had always been there—literally on top of me—but I hadn’t been able to perceive it. Now I struggled forward, pushing. Fighting with my arms.
No, I thought. I’m not a stone. I’m not even a bonfire. I’m a star.
My essence, my soul, exploded with light—burning away the haze that surrounded me. No longer was I nothing in this place. I was a light, a glowing presence, a sphere of burning whiteness.
I used my ability to connect, to see, and sensed a presence ahead. It was easy, now that I’d escaped. Was that Jorgen? I latched onto it and pulled myself through.
I appeared in the somewhere, as I had before—illusory, ephemeral. But I hadn’t found Jorgen.
I’d found my enemies.
To my human eyes, Winzik looked virtually identical to Nuluba, though his exoskeleton was a deeper green. Varvax didn’t usually wear clothing, but he had on an official-ish sash. He sat in a large marble chair, carved intricately and inlaid with silver. I supposed that if one had an exoskeleton, cushioned seating wouldn’t be relevant.
The room was circular, lavishly paneled in wood, and had the feel of an office. A group of tenasi, with the same predatory air as Peg, was making a presentation to Winzik. They did wear clothing, and I recognized a military uniform instantly. Some things seemed pretty universal across species—and judging by the ranks of medals and badges on their jackets, these were admirals and generals.
A military briefing for the acting leader of the Superiority, I supposed. The screen, fortunately, didn’t show Detritus—but an unfamiliar planet, red and green. I couldn’t read any of the writing around it, and didn’t have my pin to translate, so I couldn’t figure out what it was.
“It’s ReDawn,” a voice said in English from behind me. “Funny you wouldn’t recognize it, considering the face you wore most of the time you were with us.”
I spun. Brade sat in a chair beside me. She wore her dark hair in a sharp buzz cut, and even through the uniform I could see she had muscles—the kind of build you rarely saw outside the more fanatical soldiers at the gym. She was spinning a pen between her fingers, watching me with an almost uninterested stare.
Winzik turned in his seat to glance back at her, barking an order in a language I didn’t know.
“Oh, stuff your complaints, Winzik,” Brade said, still spinning the pencil. “She’s here. Finally broke out of her cage. Took you long enough, Alanik—or Spensa, I guess. I expected you to make more noise inside that barrier. Do you know how much attention it required to keep it up?”
“How?” I demanded. “How did you manage that?”
“Took a little instruction from our new friends,” Brade said. She could see me, I realized. Without a reflective surface. “Unlocked a few abilities I’d been practicing.”
Winzik ordered the generals out and walked over, exoskeleton hands making circular motions as he spoke. Despite the language barrier, I could recognize his mannerisms—in fact, I could practically hear him saying “my, my” and “how aggressive” in his persnickety tone.
“The delvers think they can handle you,” Brade said. “I told them otherwise. You’re blunt, Spensa. I like that about you. No subtlety. You just go crashing through whatever stands between you and your goals.”
“I was subtle enough to fool you,” I snapped, projecting the thoughts at her. And with my growing powers, I caught a flutter of emotions she tried to hide. Shame, anger. She had trained with me and had never figured out what I really was. Until I’d handed her the truth, for her to stomp on.