Rory

Rory sat on the dirty old sofa, watching out the bay windows in the living room. She hadn’t spoken since the following night. All she’d been able to bring herself to do was get dressed. I’m not waiting for him because there’s nothing to wait for. It’s done. She kept repeating those words in her mind until she decided it was true.

“Billie gabbed there was a fight, so I thought you’d need a cuppa.” Sven offered her a steaming mug. “Might not be worth a shit but it’s the Sven blend.”

“Thank you,” she said and lifted it to her mouth. “It’s not laced with drugs, is it?”

“Might be.”

“Perfect,” she said, downing it with one giant gulp. The hot beverage scalded her throat, and she grimaced.

“Normally we don’t drink our tea like heathens. Burns less that way.” He plopped beside her and she put her head on his shoulder, drawing a long shuddering breath. “There, there,” he said, awkwardly patting at her back. “Can I share something?”

“Is this the part where you gloat about how you never liked him and I was naïve and blah blah blah?”

“Nah. Who am I to say a word about bad decisions?”

She snorted.

“Glad you got a laugh. Even if it was at my expense.” Sven sighed and pulled her chin up with his finger. His eerie pale green eyes bore into hers. “Men, we’re all mental. The whole lot of us. You birds are soft and charming. You clean stuff and… I dunno, you make bobbles out of popsicle sticks. But, men, we break it all down because we can. He should be the one that’s a mess, burnin’ his throat on tea waitin’ for you to walk through the door. You should be out doing whatever it is you ladies do when the lads aren’t around.”

“Building bobbles out of popsicle sticks?” she asked and took a deep cleansing sigh. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem. I’ll get you some more Sven Blend.”

She nodded, and the effects of his drink kicked in with a warm wave over her mind. “Hey, Sven,” she said. “This tea feels amazingly like Xanax. You sure you don’t know where my bottle went?”

“No clue,” he said, handing her a fresh cup.

The unnamed young woman—Mara’s servant—emerged from the cellar door. “My lady is waiting for you, Thurston. Today is your training day.”

Sven’s ears reddened. “No one by that name, love. Sorry, wrong portal, I guess.”

“Mr. Thurston Howard Carter the third. That is your name. Do not keep her waiting any longer than she needs to.”

“You heard her, Thurston. You shouldn’t keep Mara waiting.” Rory winked at him and shooed him away.

“One word, Aurora, to any of em…” He drew a thumb across his throat and laughed. “All right, all right. I’m off to see the wizard.” He held up his hands in surrender and followed the unnamed woman into the cellar and out of sight.

She sat, sipping the floral tea in silence until she heard a crash from the upstairs. Knowing Nadine and Billie were in the garden, there was only one person it could be. “Doc?” she asked, rushing up the steps, taking two at a time. “Doc, are you okay?”

Inside his room, there was a fist-sized hole in the wall and a picture frame lay shattered on the floor. He turned to face her, holding his bloodied hand.

“Well, Sven was right about you men breaking things.” She sighed. “Let me clean that up. What happened?”

“What are we doing?” He winced as she pulled a piece of glass from his wound.

“Hold still. I’ve only practiced on an uninjured patient.” She frowned up at him. “What do you mean by ‘what are we doing?’”

“Just that. What are we doing here? We never freed Lena and Holga, and they’re probably dead by now. The refugees of Alma are still dying outside the walls while they wait for something that will never happen because there simply isn’t enough room for all of them.” He hissed loudly as she cleaned the cut. “And you, you’d barely been here a day before we started dragging you all around this forsaken place.”

“So far, that’s what this place has been all about for me.” Rory shrugged and tied the bandage around his knuckles.

“It doesn’t have to be.” Doc pulled her into a massive bear hug. Their height difference was so great, she was eye level with his sternum. Between the drugged tea, fatigue and the steady beating in his chest, her muscles eased and relaxed. “There’s another camp I plan on going to,” he said. “What if it’s not as crazy as Alma? And what if we can make a difference there?” His heart raced underneath her ear. “I’d really love to go find it together.”

“You’re leaving?” she asked and pulled herself away. Doc can’t leave.

“Thinking about it.” He sat on the bed. The old springs screeched under his weight. “I couldn’t leave without you…” He trailed off. “All of you, I mean.”

“Aren’t things good enough here?”

“For some of you,” he said and smiled at her with a hint of sadness. “I don’t feel right unless I’m making a difference and holing myself up in some house while a crazy old lady tells me I need to get over my past isn’t doing anything.”

“Can I ask you something? And take all the offense you want, but hear me out.”

Doc nodded at her and watched as she sat down next to him.

“Do you want to leave for another camp or are you running away?”

“That’s dumb,” he said but scratched the back of his head.

“What’s so bad about sticking around here for a bit and seeing where this takes us? I know I still have a way to go with the stuff that Mara is teaching me, and as much as I hate to say it—it makes sense. I’m still screwing up.” Tears burned her eyes, and she wiped them away.

“No. Rory, you’re doing great.”

“No. I’m not. I used my power to make Byron go away last night.”

“Wait, what? Why would you do that?”

She gestured with her hands but couldn’t form any words.

“Did he hurt you?” Doc clenched his fists.

“No. He didn’t hurt me. He… I-”

“It’s okay. No one here has any right to pass judgments. Just talk to me.”

“The why doesn’t matter. My point was that I shouldn’t have sent him away like that. It was just another impulsive mistake added to the pile that Mara keeps warning me about, and I can’t help but agree.”

Doc sighed and looked at his hands. “What you’re saying is give the old lady a chance? So, we stick around and then what? We work on getting back to Alma?”

“Why not?” Rory shrugged at him. “Maybe we can make it into something for everyone but we need to start somewhere right? Mara might help you use your powers without the side effects. She might even help Sven be a little less Sven.” They both chuckled, and he put an arm around her, giving her a squeeze so hard she felt the wind leaving her body. “Besides, you can’t leave. I won’t let you.”

“Well, what other choice do I have when you put it like that?”

“Good,” she said and jumped to her feet. She needed to get some air. “I’m going to go see if Nadine needs any help. Do you want to come with?”

“You go ahead. I need to clean up my mess.” Doc pointed to the shattered glass on the floor and the hole in the wall.

Relief washed through her as she left his room. There was something in the way he looked at her that added to her problems. He was big, strong and—most importantly—he was alive. Rory peeked into Byron’s room as she walked by. After a moment of disappointment that it was empty, she moaned to herself, I really need to stop that.