He shrugs. “I’ve read most of the books here.”
“Have you ever read anything on time travel?” I ask.
Kane blinks a few times. “Only works of fiction and folklore.”
I take a deep breath. “Good. Now for the really important question.”
“I’m listening…”
“You have dissociative identity disorder, and since you’re young—is it safe to assume you often suffer from memory gaps and amnesia?”
There’s a flash of dissociation and a sounding alarm that has Kane changing his stance. I worry he’s close to changing alters before I’ve had the chance to get to my point.
“Whoareyou? No one knows anything about my disorder.”
I grab the arms of the chair and sit up straighter.
“Please, just answer the question. I’m going to tell you more than I can usually tell anyone if you’ll just answer honestly.”
Looking off to the left, he listens to the voices in his head. It must be a serious debate because he just listens for over a minute.
“Yes. I don’t usually remember much while I’m in here.”
I nod. I could really fuck everything up if I’m not careful. I could erase my own existence. But as of this moment, I just need to get back to Niklaus. I’d sell my own soul to save him right now.
“I know a lot about your disorder because I have time-traveled here. I left the man I love in the Vexamen Prison over fifty years in the past. I know this place experiments on you to reach more advanced abilities with your brain. I know your sweetheart’s name is Skylenna—”
My father’s hands are around my throat before I can blink or take another breath.
“Don’t you ever say her name in this place again. I swear to God, I will kill you for breathing that name here…”
“And I know you would never hurt her. You’ve—looked out for her—your entire life! Please! Look into my eyes and see I am not a threat to you or her. I need your help!” I sputter and gag as he lets me go. That grip was far stronger and more deadly than I would have imagined from him this young.
“I know you—are a genius. I need that mind of yours—to help me get back to the man I love. Please, I am begging you!” I pant and clutch my pulsing esophagus.
Kane stares with a building curiosity behind his expression. His eyebrows pull together as he sees something in me. The caution and hesitation loosen their grip on his rigid posture.
My eyes prickle.Please, you’re my only hope, Dad.
“If you’re playing a game, there’s an alter in my head who will play it better than you. And he has a temper. Understand?”
The word “yes” is mouthed by no sound comes out. And Kane takes a seat in front of me, rubbing his hands together in preparation.
“Tell me everything.”
63. The Bastille of Quiet Rot
63. The Bastille of Quiet Rot
Niklaus
Grief swells so wide insideme, I swear I hear it hum. If I say her name out loud, the sound might annihilate me.
Four weeks.
Four.
It’s as if my fingers haven’t healed at all.
