Some Thing Called Myself (Complete)

XIX: something worse

Ch. 19: Something Worse

Mara realized it was raining when she left the protection of the inner corridors of the HQ. As soon as she stepped down the final flight of stairs, thick droplets of water hit her face and shoulders. Something shone overhead, and when she faced skyward, she saw the remaining flash of a lightning strike illuminating the cavernous tunnel above the open patio. Mixed with the wild crescendo of the rain, the shouting from a small crowd multiplied. It was so loud that she almost expected to see a placard in her hands, asking for democracy—but instead, her hands were empty; what she found was a gathering crowd around the Kerana tree.

"I told you to stay calm!" Elena shouted. It didn't seem like that was the first time either; her pale face was red, and the endings of her words were husky, grating her tired throat. She kept her voice loud as she said, "There's no reason to panic. Solúcia and Mirtes found the bleeding today, and according to the Sentinel's Guide to Tree Caring—" Elena fumbled with the thick book in her hands, and it fell with a loud thud on the wet floor. Rain pattered her muscular body, running in rivulets down her face.

A new lightning strike illuminated her grimace, and she disappeared for a moment as she crouched to get the book. That was enough to shake the Sents out of their short silence.

"We're lost without the tree," an older Sent said.

"What the fuck do we do now, Elena?"

"We're dead. We're all dead!"

"And all the humans with us."

"Relax," another Sent shouted, raising her voice above the rain. "We just need to accept that beyond-fleshers will run over the entire continent, that's all."

"That's—what the heck! Where is that coming from?" Elena tried to calm them again, but her disembodied voice, lost in the crowd, had little to no effect on her people.

The patio had never felt so small and so crowded. Almost all of the few hundred Sents were gathered there, under the rain, gesturing at the tree and talking over one another. Besides them, Mara also spotted Granny and Nastácia, a few staff members Mara didn't recognize, and a small group of senior Sentinels who watched the scene with cold detachment. In the center of it all, hiding behind Elena's wide frame, stood Falchi, the small gardener, who almost lost themself against the brown of the tree trunk.

Mara walked up to Mirtes. Half-hidden under the tree, she had her arms crossed as if she was hugging herself, the tips of her fingers dyed with a glossy, thick layer of red.

"Hey," Mara called in a whisper. Mirtes didn't answer, so Mara touched her arm. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

Mirtes shook her head no. She was lost for a moment, her unblinking eyes fixed on the same point on the floor. Finally, she said,

"The tree is." Mirtes sighed and reached for Mara's hand. She squeezed it, only strong enough to prove she was still in there somewhere. Instead of explaining anything further, she stepped away and whispered, "Elena needs me."

As Mirtes walked away toward the Director, Jano stopped beside Mara to study the scene. He clicked his tongue. In the place Mirtes had touched, Mara's hand started to burn. Jano muttered something, shook his head in disappointment, and rushed down towards the crowd. He cut it like a scalpel and stopped at Elena's side as she got to her feet again.

"Attention, please!" Jano said. "Please. I need you to listen to me for a moment."

As the crowd started to speak louder, Elena gave Jano a salty glance, but he simply pivoted around. Jano disappeared for a moment; a wooden, scraping noise filled the place, and then he reappeared, way taller than before.