Dawn of Fog and Glass

Chapter Thirty (Part One): Dawn of Fog and Glass

We pass several more days in the bunker. The second and third come and go uneventfully, as do the fourth and fifth. We have one more grocery run, which luckily goes without mishap.

Ariadna teaches Draco and I how to play cards—and how to shuffle the deck. By the fifth day, we're masters.

Meanwhile, Dom spends much of his time curled up on his bunk, reading peacefully.

Draco starts thinking about Chantelle more and more as the days pass. Or maybe he's just getting more vocal about it.

I don't blame him, though. Many of my thoughts are occupied by Orion and Hera. Wherever they are, I hope they're happy. I hope they're safely finding a new home in the Alliance, patiently waiting for us to arrive.

I reassure myself with the thought that I'll see them any day now.

I hope.

One day, while we're playing cards, Ariadna pauses. "Tell me something embarrassing about yourself that you've never told anyone before."

I snort. "No."

"Okay." She laughs and flicks my arm. "I'll go. When I was six, I kicked my gymnastics teacher in the balls because I was tired of him correcting my roundoff."

"You were in gymnastics?" Draco asks, impressed.

"Oh, yeah," she muses. "Spent four years competing for Team Canada when I was a teenager. It's what got me started on my combat kick."

Draco goes next, blushing as he speaks. "Once when I was little, I accidentally called Chantelle 'Mom'. After that, sometimes I would close my eyes and call her 'Mom' on purpose and pretend she was my real mom taking care of me."

Dom looks up from his book, narrowing his eyes in concern.

Ariadna blinks sharply. "That is the saddest thing I've heard all day. I said 'embarrassing', not 'heartbreaking'." Her voice climbs an octave in concern.

He smiles, but then his eyes fall to the ground, shadowed by his long eyelashes. "I really miss her. Chantelle, I mean—well, both." He straightens his posture a little thinking about her.

I grab his hand and squeeze it. "I know, buddy."

"I hope she's okay."

I laugh softly. "I'm sure she's doing fine, Draco. They like Chantelle over there. She's mature. You don't have to worry about her."

He gives me a wary side-eye. "That's like telling me not to worry about drowning when I don't know how to swim."

I scrunch up my nose. "Not really. But I'm sure she'd appreciate you saying that."

Ariadna stares awkwardly at the ground. She must know who Chantelle is—after all, Draco's been rambling about her more and more these past few days—but still, she stays out of it.

Draco is about to play his turn when something buzzes loudly from inside Ariadna's bag. It quickly fills and quenches the young silence.

Draco and I jump in surprise. Dom nearly falls off his bunk.

"Sorry, sorry." Ariadna unzips her bag furiously and pulls out a thin, long screen with a black backing. The devilish thing continues to buzz at her as she fumbles to tap on it.

"Woah, woah, what is that?" Dom says, furrowing his eyebrows.

She bites her lip in thought and tells us it's a phone.

"What happened to the walkie-talkie?" I ask.

She frowns. "I don't know. Usually phones are just for emergencies; the IP addresses are easier to track."