“Dawn, listen to me. Your mind has been tampered with by an outside force. We were working together, remember?”
“I would never work with you.” Her tone was vicious, her face flushed, the drill in her hand shaking. “The Hills conglomerate is pure evil.”
“I’m not with the Hills, remember?” He tried to creep closer, but she jerked violently, gripping the drill with two hands to steady herself, the intent to use the weapon clear in her eyes.
This isn’t working. There has to be something I can do, some way to reach her. He had to think quickly because he knew she was at her breaking point.
“Just calm down,” he said, taking a step back. “Let’s think about this.”
Dawn shook her head. “Get out. Now.”
There was only one avenue open that he could see. He’d honed his powers of persuasion as every other Vartik had. They were their main method of self-defense, beyond their physical strength and even their superior attractiveness. He could try his powers on her, try to force her mind to remember him.
He balked at the idea immediately. He hated being forced to use his powers, especially on Dawn. It seemed a breach of trust, one that he could ill afford. She’d had doubts about his use of those powers before, doubts that had bred distrust. To use them again after she’d demanded he not would be a further crack in their fragile relationship.
What relationship?At the moment, the only relationship you have is as enemies. She’s cast you in the role of her arch nemesis, and changing that will be nearly impossible. Dawn’s always been stubborn. She’s rebelled against every major institution and conglomerate in the system. Without a significant intervention, your chances of recovering her memories without the use of your powers are between zero and negative one.
He hated to admit it, but there it was. Zelup promised to himself that he would only use his powers to bring back her memories and nothing further. He swore he would find a way to make it up to her once he did bring her out of it.
Wondering if this was the right decision, hating to use his powers on her, and lamenting that he would only bring her back just to leave her again, Zelup drew a deep, uneasy breath. Focusing all of his thoughts on one purpose, he drew on his powers.
“Drop the drill,” he said, his voice heavy with persuasion.
Dawn stared at him, her face screwed up with resistance. Her hand opened against her own desire, and the drill tumbled to the floor.
Zelup rushed forward and she backed away until she hit the workbench. He took her face between his hands and moved it until her gaze was locked on his. “Obey me.”
“Don’t,” she moaned, tears falling from her eyes. “Please.”
His heart breaking into pieces within his chest, he pushed on. “Do not fight me.”
She went slack in his grip. Her eyes were trained on him, but he could see by her face that she was still resisting. The fact that she would fight to the end against any obstacle was both frustrating and fascinating. She would make an excellent wife.
Not for you.Your wife will be of Vartik stock.
With a frown, he refocused. Concentrating all his will, he demanded, “Remember me.”
A shock went through her body and Zelup held her tight. He repeated the order, and again, she shook, this time more violently. He moved his grip to her shoulders to hold her more securely.
“Dawn, do you remember me?”
Her head lolled on her shoulder. She took a moment to gather herself, her eyes refocusing on his face. “I remember… I remember you’re a giant piece of shit.”
Zelup groaned. Could his powers not be used to reverse whatever had been done to her?No, they have to work. They’re the only chance I have.
It felt so hopeless. He’d never once felt as impotent as he did right then. Zelup had always met every challenge head on and had never once failed. The thought that he might let down the woman he loved tore him to shreds.
I won’t give up. I can’t. Closing his eyes, he whispered a prayer. “Goddess of Light, hear my plea. Help me bring back Dawn’s memory. She worked to free your Guardian from an endless sleep to take her part in the Battle of the End. Please reward her service and my loyalty. Help me. Please!”
Zelup couldn’t remember the last time he’d prayed in earnest, and he wasn’t sure if his request would be honored. Gods could be fickle creatures, even the ones whose children you had sworn to protect.
He refocused on the woman in front of him. She was staring up at him, stark hatred burning from her eyes. “Let me go,” she managed to say.
Never.
“Dawn, listen to me. You will remember me. Remember me. Remember!” He pushed all of his power into the last command, knowing this was it and that he’d be too weak to muster enough power to persuade her if he failed now. “Remember!”
A burst of light suddenly illuminated her, and her body went rigid as if the light were invading every fiber of her being. Just as suddenly, it disappeared and she collapsed into his arms, unconscious.
“No!” he screamed, holding her tightly while he dropped to his knees. Her eyes were closed, her body limp. He didn’t understand what had happened but he knew his powers hadn’t been responsible for that burst of light.
“Dawn,” he whispered, lightly brushing the hair from her face, his heart like a stone in his throat. “Please, wake up.”
The sight of her lifeless body broke something inside him. Tears spilled down his face, his breath hitching in his chest. He realized then that he could never let her go. His future on Vartik didn’t matter. His own ambition was bullshit. Although he didn’t want to admit it, he might even sacrifice the entirety of the population on his planet, all just to be with her.
If only she would wake up.
