Theodosia

c h a p t e r t w e n t y - f i v e

H O M E C O M I N G

Amelia's little red plane was crowded and hot.

It was stuffed to the brim with bodies, all chattering, still buzzing over the excitement of the night; the victory of a battle won.

"The Battle of the Smithsonian," that's what someone had dubbed it, in the clamour of their victory. Theodosia still remembers the elation she felt that night, years ago, when they defeated the old nightguards. They had celebrated just like this. She chased that feeling, desperately, but it evaded her. Why couldn't she feel anything but terrible?

Sitting together in the back, Theodosia and Ahkmenrah barely spoke. The weight of the night sat on both their young shoulders, and they could find nothing to say. Theodosia could feel the warmth Ahkmenrah always radiated at her side, pressing against her bare arm. She could hear his steady breathing, see his hand resting alongside hers, barely brushing her fingers. He was there, right there, so why did he feel so far away?

She peeked at the side of his face, angled away from hers, lost in his own thoughts. Was he angry with her? Did he hate her for what she had done? Was he in pain? Kahmunrah was a piece of his past, he was his brother. Theodosia was made of wax. She had no real mother, no real father, no real brother, or sister. The pain Ahkmenrah had experienced was lost to her.

This whole night she wished she knew how to heal the wounds Kahmunrah had left behind, but she didn't even know where to begin. Trying to block out the celebration closing in on her, she laid her head on Ahkmenrah's shoulder and closed her eyes.

For the briefest moment she worried he would move away, but she should have known better. He felt as far away as she did, just as guilty as she did. He laid his head against hers and they focused on the sway of the plane.

Sitting by Amelia, Larry watched them with relief. No one else seemed to notice the quiet tension. They were still so young, two teenagers frozen in time. He could see it in them both, the effect the night had on them. They were usually so happy and carefree. Theodosia was always boisterous and cheerful, but all night she had been tense and serious. Ahkmenrah, who was always level-headed, had unravelled before his eyes.

"They'll be okay, you know," Amelia told him, matter of fact. He looked up at her, surprised. She smiled, before returning her eyes to the endless sky she had missed so much.

Larry sighed. "They're just kids. I wasn't there to protect them. It's my fault."

"Larry, you did protect them," she whispered. "You protected us all."

"No, I mean, before. I left." He shook his head, grimacing. "I put them in danger because I ran away. If I had stayed, none of this would have happened."

"Nuts!" she exclaimed, frowning. "You can't possibly blame yourself for this."

"It's just – it's hard seeing them like this," Larry explained. "I mean, they're always inseparable. That's the same. They're like magnets, always drawn to each other, ever since they first met. Funny enough, that was when we were trying to save the tablet – the first time."

"This wasn't the first time?"

"Far from it," Larry laughed. "You know, I knew from the moment they saw each other. They've always been easy to read, but it was written all over their faces that night. Theodosia wouldn't even talk to him, and Ahkmenrah wouldn't stop staring at her."

"Well, isn't that sweet," she mused. "Young love. Don't you miss it?"

"True love," Larry corrected, smiling at her. "I'm no expert, but I think that's true love."