The Haunted Way (Champions of the Crystal Book 5)

Chapter 10.3

That was the only bright spot in the days to come. Aurora left to attend the summit, and Tirqwin settled down to try to write his report, which he and Khediva quarreled over extensively. Cynthia was informed that she was also required to write a report, without allowing anyone to see it until she submitted it, which meant she could not ask for help with the language or format. When she finally got frustrated enough to appeal to Commander Mukryilla, she was given several declassified reports as a model. One of them, she was both amused and saddened to note, had been written by Sabrina. It was so bland that she was forced to wonder what had really happened, and she wondered if the Commander was trying to tell her something.

She was sitting by Sabrina's bedside wrestling with the sequence of events that had led to her shooting Malvarak, which still seemed fairly surreal to her, when a flurry of activity at the entrance to the critical care ward caught her attention. A moment later the Queen came into view, escorted by half a dozen people who were watching her every step as though they expected her to fall at any moment. Mara's gait was uneven—her right leg dragged a little—but she seemed sure of her footing, Cynthia noticed.

"Wait outside," Mara commanded when she reached Sabrina's bed. The words were slurred but intelligible. There were a few protests, but a glare from Mara silenced them. Cynthia quietly gathered her things and was surprised to hear herself addressed in a much friendlier voice. "You may remain, Dr. Grayson."

"Thank you," Cynthia said. "Your Majesty," she added hastily.

"Sit," Mara said, waving her hand and sinking into a chair. "I hope I am not disturbing you."

"Uh—nothing I don't want to be disturbed at," Cynthia said. "I mean...I'm just writing my report."

Mara gave her a wan smile. "Don't worry. All reports will be suitably edited."

"It's not that. I just...the more I think about things, the less sure I am what really happened."

"Not uncommon. You should have been debriefed immediately. There was some confusion as to your status, though it turns out that Scotty did, for once, strictly follow the rules. I have not seen him for a few days—he's all right?"

"Yes. I saw him yesterday. He is a little anxious about the petition, but otherwise he's fine. And worried about Sabrina, of course."

"Petition?" Mara said, frowning.

"Oh. Uh, I...um. I'd really rather you asked him, Your Majesty."

"Is it going to give me a headache?"

"I hope not, ma'am."

"Good. Well, let's see what I can do for Sabrina." Mara sighed, looking at her comatose friend. "I'm trying not to think that I should just allow her to have her martyrdom. A lifetime of trying to patch her up after she's thrown herself in front of the bullet does not appeal."

Cynthia stared at the Queen in shock. Mara smiled at her. "I beg your pardon. I'm not quite myself."

"Then who are you?"

"A very good question," Mara said. "I shall have to give it some thought." She laid a hand on Sabrina's head and closed her eyes, concentrating. Then she sat back with a frown. "There is nothing wrong with her that I can detect. It is as if she is simply not there. I must go and meditate on it."

She rose and left, without saying anything further. Cynthia shook her head and muttered, "This place gets stranger by the day. Wake up, Rina. I want to go home."

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The following day, Cynthia submitted her report and went to the infirmary, where she found Sabrina's bed empty. A rather loud inquiry revealed that she had been transferred.