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Chapter 11

Has anyone ever measured the energies emitted by the mining rods? I wonder how they might compare to the energies controlled by animators. The two are directly related in my mind.

Mathias' warning kept Sanya from going directly back to her apartment. She might have risked, despite the danger, if she didn't keep seeing Horace's angry red eyes wherever she looked. He leered at her from every face she passed, glared at her from dark doorways, and laughed as he crept up behind her. Her mind refused to let her relax, so she used her credits to buy some new clothes, including a jacket with a hood, and staked out her apartment, watching for anyone she recognized.

She wouldn't have needed to go back to the apartment at all, except the paper was calling to her. She had tried to buy more, but even with her extra credits, paper was too expensive. The warmth of the yellowing pages against her fingers called to her like an itch. Her skin crawled with the need to touch it again, to feel the connection to its energy, to manipulate it. So, she was sitting in a puddle of mud in the middle of a rainstorm, watching the doors to her building. No one had entered or exited in over an hour.

"Now or never, Sanya," she whispered to the rain.

The spot she had been watching from was covered, but her butt was still wet. She stood up and shivered as cold water trickled down her legs. She savored the clean scent left by the rain. It was easy to get used to the smell of trash and sweat. Rain washed all that away, like it was giving the city another chance to smell better the next day. If only rain could change hearts as easily as smells, the Rift would be a completely different place.

Before she could change her mind, she splashed forward through the puddles. The atrium was empty, and Sanya made straight for the lift. Its doors opened with a soft screech of metal. She got in and punched the button for her floor. The doors shut, and the lift ascended. She shivered and looked around the empty lift, feeling decidedly lonely. If she were being honest with herself, she hoped to find Rin waiting in her room. It had been over twenty-four hours since he had kissed her. She promised to talk to him that night, but, after the incident in the mine, she hadn't dared try to find him. The need to see him again was almost as bad as the need to hold the stack of paper, but with it came a clenching of her stomach. Between her stolen memories and scattered thoughts, she was starting to think she might be irrevocably broken.

Sanya didn't immediately get off the lift when the doors opened. There was no one in sight when she peered into the hallway. The lift dinged at her, so she left the car and made her way to her room. Wind and rain raged against the building, muffling her footsteps and making the old structure sway slightly. She paused just outside her door and pressed her ear close to the seam, listening. She couldn't hear anything over the rain, so she put her hand on the knob and turned slowly. For the first time, she wondered why her door didn't have a lock. Still, nothing happened, so she pushed the door open. Rain poured down the window, making the weak light coming in from outside shiver across the walls of the empty room. After checking the bathroom nook, she rushed inside and shut the door behind her.

Her bag lay beside her bed as did her clothes. She took off her wet gloves and began stuffing the clothes and blanket into the bag without folding them. It all fit, even her shoes, but there wasn't much room left. Her gaze landed on the desk. Throwing her bag over her shoulder, she hurried over and opened the top drawer. The stack of white pages was right where she'd left it. She reached for it, but, just as her fingers brushed the top sheets, the door flew open with a deafening crash. Sanya spun around to find three all too familiar figures shambling into her room. They wore long, hooded raincoats, but she would know Jacque's figure and Horace's red eyes anywhere.

"Well, well, well. We meet again, tome." Horace's voice was casual.

Sanya's hand still rested on the paper, and her fingers warmed as the energy from the connection built. She shifted her body as she watched them, trying to keep the drawer out of their view.