The Way Back (Champions of the Crystal Book 4)

Chapter 8: Memories

Sabrina lay exhausted, drained, on the floor where Varla had left her. The creature's feeding seemed to have sated the Stanosian queen, and she had decided to retire for the night. Ford had remained withdrawn, blank, almost as if his entire personality had been drained away, leaving only a void. He had followed Varla from the room without a backward glance, for all the world as if he were her page.

Sabrina was too exhausted to fear very much for herself, mostly wishing for the ordeal to be over with so she could sink into merciful oblivion, but Ford's loss made her ache. Mara and Tirqwin would be heartbroken, but even beyond that, Sabrina grieved for Ford and for herself. She had liked him more than she had realized, and now she would never get the chance to know him well, to help him fulfill his undeniable potential, to feel the comfort of the friendship they had begun to build.

I failed Tassan. I failed Ford. I have failed them all, and now I'm going to die. There's so much I didn't finish. I failed at it all.

The misery was numbing, and she washed in and out of unconsciousness as if carried on ocean waves. When she was conscious, she was too exhausted, too far gone in despair, to formulate coherent thoughts. Time seemed something that happened to other people, while she was floating in this dim limbo.

After what seemed a very long time, something began to penetrate the fog around her: a warmth, a gentle comfort, creeping over her and sinking in, pushing away the despair. Am I dying? Is this how it starts? She tried to remember what she'd heard of near-death experiences. One of Aunt Euphrasia's friends had died on the operating table and been pulled back. For the week afterward that she lived, she had talked of the comfort she had felt and how she had not wanted to come back. She looked forward to dying after that, and she had gone peacefully, in her sleep. Will I see my parents? My grandparents? Maybe Haaron...I so wish I could see him again. My faithful friend....

She might have fallen asleep; when she next became aware, she thought she felt someone touch her. It was so light it could have been imaginary, but she didn't know why she should imagine someone stroking her hair. Then she felt a hand on her cheek, the thumb sliding downward in a caress. I am not alone, she thought, and then blinked. But I am!

There was no one. She struggled to focus her eyes on the room, lit by one guttering torch in a corner. There was no one there; she heard no breathing but her own. And yet she could still feel that lingering touch and the comfort it offered.

"What's...what's happening?" she said aloud, in a cracked whisper. Her throat still ached from her earlier ordeal. Painfully, she pulled herself up on her elbows to better look around. "Is someone here?"

No one replied. Sabrina tried to make herself think. It came more easily to her when she pulled herself into a sitting position. Obviously she had felt some kind of mental contact, from someone who cared about her and wanted to help her. Mara, perhaps? No, Mara would have been able to speak directly to her instead of communicating so abstractly. Tirqwin? There was something about the touch that made her think it was male. But Tirqwin didn't have the ability to touch her mind without physical contact, and he wasn't here. Lndor was being absorbed by the creature and might have been able to reach out using its power, but she didn't think he would have touched her like that. They were barely acquaintances. But... Sabrina gasped in horror. Had Tirqwin come back to the surface and somehow been caught by the creature? Was that why it had loosened its grip on her?

"Have to find out," she resolved, staggering to her feet. "Have to help him."

She stumbled toward the door and began trying to open it. It wouldn't budge as she pushed mindlessly at it, and when she realized she was wasting her effort she stepped back and tried to think. It was so hard to make her mind work, as if the creature had disrupted all her accustomed thought patterns in addition to draining her strength.