Awakening - The Last Science #1

Chapter 15 - The Heart of a Leader - III

  The cabin was a small, two-room affair—or more accurately, it might be described as a single room split down the middle by a woven curtain. The entire place made Rachel feel as though she needed to duck. It had been built with Cinza in mind, with accommodations for her taller followers, but Rachel was still easily one of the tallest people in Rallsburg.

  Several of Cinza's silver-grey robes hung on hooks near the front door. A few ragged armchairs, apparently recovered from a thrift shop or charity drive, sat near a stone fireplace sharing the wall with the generator. Wires trailed off into the corner where a laptop and a small television sat along with a pile of books. A bookcase laden with various small gemstones and bowls of chalk took up the far wall. Through the curtain, Rachel could barely make out a wide, comfortable bed with thick rumpled covers and another desk, both rather unremarkable, and a smaller bookcase full of unmarked books. The curtain was the only notable thing about the room, but it more than made up for the rest of the underwhelming interior.

  It was a massive, gorgeous design depicting many interconnected stars of varying colors and beams of light, like a breathtaking night sky dotted with intricate designs. Rachel could have spent hours digesting its detail. She noticed that many of the stars held the design of the same one from the book, and that Cinza still wore around her neck. It had to have been made just for them.

  "Ruby's," Cinza commented, noticing Rachel's interest. "She's quite talented at her artwork."

  "This is incredible," Rachel said.

  "She'll be pleased to hear it. She gave that to me for my twenty-third," Cinza said with a warm smile. "It was the best birthday gift I've ever gotten."

  "When was that?" Rachel asked, reaching out a hand to feel it. The fibers were thick and felt strong and durable.

  "December twenty fifth, actually."

  "Christmas day?"

  "Quite. Made for a disappointing childhood, trust me," Cinza said, without bitterness. Rachel turned around to see her stripping off her sweat-laden shirt—with nothing on underneath. "Sorry, I just had to get rid of that before it stunk up the whole room." The scars on her chest were plain as day just below the star necklace, and Rachel knew she was showing them off deliberately. She wanted Rachel to ask.

  Rachel didn't feel like rising to the bait. "I came out here to ask you to—"

  "Rachel, please." Cinza took a seat in one of the armchairs. The shirt floated out of the rear window, presumably to a laundry. "Sit and let's talk a while."

  "We don't really have time for this."

  "Are you afraid your absence will be noted?" Cinza shrugged. "Given your hectic activities since the Emergence, I doubt it will surprise anyone that you can't be reached for a while. In any event, your cell phone will work in our home. We have a repeater set up along with the satellite connection."

  Rachel shook her head. "I should be getting back as soon as I can."

  "You need me, and I need you. We barely know each other," Cinza said, pulling her legs up onto the chair and leaning back comfortably. Her voice slipped out of the floaty echo she had been keeping up until that moment. She still had that vaguely eastern-European accent which Rachel couldn't place, but her voice was no longer magically altered. "Do you know how long it's been since I've actually gotten to talk to someone for real?"

  Rachel had no response for that. She finally reluctantly sat down across from Cinza.

  A flick of the girl's fingers and the fire lit up, as it was still relatively cool out for a morning in May. The burst of heat sent her recoiling for a moment, but it felt good, and she soon felt much more relaxed. The chair was a bit low for her, but it put them at a relatively equal height compared to Cinza's wide, tall armchair. She still felt a bit odd sitting across from the topless Cinza, but the girl seemed totally comfortable and with no intent to dress herself, so Rachel did her best to ignore it.