“That second half aside, what do you mean we don’t have time? It’s only the 22nd. As long as we leave by the 27th, or early morning on the 28th, we’ll get back in time. Everyone is focused on trying to fix the climate controls and comms, but if we get them all to just?—”
“Soren, I’m almost positive the dreams have already started…”
Soren’s eyes widened. “Impossible… It’s too soon! When?!”
“Yesterday morning, before we attacked…”
“Are you sure it wasn’t just a normal nightmare?” the Harpy asked, almost hopefully.
“I will admit…I tried to pass it off as that. But you know they’ve always felt different. Leaving me feeling just a little less tethered to reality after each one. It didn’t feel like a normal dream, and it was the start of it… It’s how italwaysstarts. We don’t have time.” Ender sighed. “Was our holding cell damaged?”
“No,” Soren replied softly. “It’s fully intact.”
“Then that’s where I’ll start sleeping in a few days.”
“Ender, they have never started this early before. It’s possible things won’t devolve as rapidly. Maybe this just means it’ll be drawn out?”
Ender wasn’t sure, and he wouldn’t really know until the next nightmare hit.
“I’ll know soon enough…”
“You need to warn them then, about what is about to happen, just in case it can’t hold you.”
“It should, for a little while. It all depends on how quickly it ends.”
“Ender…” Soren sighed.
“Just give me a few days. Let’s see if we are worrying for no fucking reason, and then I’ll decide who needs to know what.”
“You have three days,” the Harpy said stiffly.
“Gee, and here I thought I was in charge.”
“Well, bless your heart. It’s adorable you think so. But Brother, it’s time to face facts. You officially ain’t in charge until you’ve passed the period of the year where you are at risk of literally eating people,” the man said in a southern drawl, as real and as thick as his own.
Ender glared, and flipped the bastard off. “I’m going to expose your accent one of these days. Bet.”
Soren smirked, his accent still out in full as he drawled, “Bring it on, little brother.”
Cyrus entered the room they’d picked to share on Brick Bond. It was nothing more than a bare ass space with a bed, nightstand, and trunk. His luggage, along with the bag he packed for Killian, was against the left wall.
The Siren was already inside, sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for him. Taking a deep breath, Cyrus sat down beside him, but held back his thoughts when Killian raised his hand up for him to stop.
“Before you say anything, let me say what I need to first.”
He just nodded in response.
Killian slowly grabbed one of his hands, the Siren holding it between both of his. “I know how you are, and I know you most likely felt that you couldn’t say anything or risk changing morethings. So, I understand why you did it.” The man sighed. “You are also right in saying that I was hiding something, but I didn’t keep it from you thinking you wouldn’t want to, or didn’t deserve to know. It was becauseIdidn’t think it mattered, andIdidn’t want anyone to know.
“The truth is, I have been receiving emails since around May, from my sperm donor, from my family. Each one more insane than the last, all demanding I return to them and marry some bastard they picked out for me.”
Cyrus winced. “Since May…?”
The Siren let out a soft, tired laugh. “Yeah, I’m going to make an educated guess and say you likely realized I was about to die, and changed my Fate, the same day that first email was sent.”
“It's likely that whoever sent it set in motion your death. They probably had already decided, or at least had thoughts of hiring someone to grab you.”
Killian snorted. “That would be my father, or whichever half-brother of mine he instructed to send the emails. But then, one way or another, what they want from me will lead to my death. So even if I had died by Riker’s hand, it would have been better than the death they had prepared for me.”
