"... hear me? ... or else you're going to..."

Aelia was blind.

She was also drowning.

She must have been drowning as her body had been swallowed up by liquid. It oozed around her head and legs and--

She held her breath.

Had to hold it. Or else she would surely drown.

And yet her lungs kept moving.

That was almost worse than if the glutinous soup had flooded down her throat and begun to choke her. That at least would have made sense.

Her lungs should not have been moving by themselves.

Something was... was -- Oh Gods! A great snake had wriggled into her mouth and down into her throat and deep into her belly. Its scales were pressed hard against her lips and she could hear it hissing into her stomach, exhaling its foul breath into her. Get it out, she wanted to say, to scream. But the snake had stolen all her words.

"You need to relax! If you keep panicking they..."

There was a voice.

Somewhere out in the darkness.

Was it talking to her?

Aelia tried to raise an arm, meaning to rip the snake from out of her mouth. But her limbs wouldn't cede any control to her mind. They floated limp and useless in the thick mixture that had enveloped her.

"... two minutes, max and then ... hear me? Force yourself to relax!"

Dad? Coric?

No. She'd hoped one had come to save her, but it was neither. It was unfamiliar.

So who was speaking to her? Telling her to relax.

And how could she relax when she was drowning?! And yet... not drowning. When her body was broken and unresponsive?

The last thing she'd seen, that she remembered, was the holy visage of the Stone God. He'd ripped the limbs asunder from the prisoners and had--

Had that happened to her? Is that why her body was crippled? Perhaps she had no limbs now, and herself would have to crawl like the snake that had wriggled into her.

Had she sinned and been tied to a stake, and the Stone God had carried out his merciful task?

If so, why wasn't she dead? Unless she was dead.

Her left eyelid, sticky as all hells, began to peel open. A bright purple light sliced at her pupil and she forced it closed again.

A male voice said, "That's good Ael. That's real good."

No, he hadn't said Ael. It was more like Elle.

"We've got about one minute left. I'm sorry about this, but I had to wake you this time, as the last..."

Her head thrummed. Waves of deafening reverb blocked out the voice and she wanted to scream as they rattled her head, but the snake had consumed every sound.

"...remember which corporation you're working for or we're both so fucked that..."

Corporation? What was the voice talking about? Gods, why wouldn't it just shut up and leave her to die in peace?

"...the virus is heading for its point of maximum impact, Elle. That's going to be your best chance. They'll figure out a cure before long, so we're-- Ah, shit, that's it we're out of time. Just try to remember the simulations. Casting spells should be the same in your current world."

She opened her eye again. Caught the hard facial features that were staring imploringly at her.

"Elle? Have you even heard me?"

The words danced around her like some haunted music box. Elle Elle Elle it sang, but the meaning of the tune itself was lost, the notes of the melody out of order to her ears.

"Fuck -- for both our sakes you better have been listening. Look, I got to put you back in now, okay? Get you reconnected. But it won't be forever. Once you complete your mission we'll come and collect you. You'll get to go back home."

The paint on the music box was flaking off.

The wood crumbling to dust.

The music dimmed.

Aelia gasped for breath and her hand instinctively shot up, searching for her mouth.

Nothing on it.

No snake clogging up her throat.

"Thank the Stone God!" said Henry. His face hovered above her like a pale vulture come to take whatever meat was left on her bones. "I was pretty worried about you, Aelia."

"What... happened?" she asked.

"You fainted. So I carried you back here and... I was just going to find someone to help, but you woke up." He leaned over her. "Open your mouth." Henry tipped a little water out of a leather flask and it landed on her tongue, dribbling down her dry throat. And all she could imagine were little snakes riggling down into her stomach.

She retched the water back up.

"It's okay," Henry said. "Take as long as you need."

However long she'd been out had been too long already, she thought. Henry held out a hand; she took it and gingerly sat up.

She saw now that had been lying in his cart.

Like one of the dead bodies that they collected every night.

Aelia imagined the death-stained blanket over her corpse and Henry taking her off to the Great Morgue.

The laugh swelled in her stomach then burst out of her lips. Why she was laughing, she had no idea.

"Aelia?" Henry asked.

She shook her head and swallowed back the laughter. "I'm-- I'm sorry. I don't know what's happening to me."

Words, some she understood, some she didn't, swirled around her head: Corporations. Virus. Elle. Simulations.

Why were those strange words inside her? How did they get there?

"It's okay," said Henry. He slid onto the cart next to her and wrapped his arms around her. She let herself be pulled in to his embrace. Warm and firm. Like her father's hugs had been long ago.

When he let go he said, "I'll take you home. Then, tonight, you rest."

"But I need to make sure I--"

"No," he said. "It's not a request. I'm not letting you work with me tonight. You've been burning the candle at both ends. You're completely overworked and overtired and perhaps, when you're better, you should make a new schedule." He paused. "Maybe you could cut down on the hours you spend with Coric so that you can get a little more sleep -- which you desperately need. You need money to live, so your job needs to come first. Okay?"

Aelia was too weak to argue, but she knew already that she wouldn't give a moment of her training time up. She wasn't overworked, anyway. She could handle it. Just... her body had... something had upset it today. All the blood, perhaps. Yes, it had upset her. Everyone faints once in their life, she thought. That was just her turn.

"Take me home," she said, looking into Henry's baleful brown eyes.

For a moment she feared he'd press the subject, complain further over his jealousy of Coric, or her being overworked, or whatever it was that was upsetting him. But he just nodded and instead helped her to the bench at the front of the cart.