Madlands

17. The Other Room

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Grey kicked off her boots and padded quietly over to his door. She listened for a moment but could hear nothing. Hoping he wasn't already asleep, she knocked.

It's me.

Surely that was obvious. Oh well. She heard some rustling.

Give me a minute.

Take your time.

The door swung open after only a few seconds. He'd probably had his helmet off. Grey brushed the thought away; this was not the time for her "Mando's other face" reveries. He was holding the open door in place with his boot while he leaned against the edge of it, weight on one hip and hand slung over the top.

What is it?

She held the closed book flat before her and looked down at it, and then back up at him as if to explain her visit.

You found this.

I did.

The entry... do you know a Paz?

Mando straightened but remained relaxed.

I do. Paz Vizla.

Mando! This is big! ...Can we ...talk about it?

He retreated into the oddly glowing room, a passive invitation. Grey followed, and the source of the ethereal lighting became clear; he'd kept the lights off, instead letting Pallis illuminate the room. It looked immense, taking up far more than half of the sky as framed by the room's window.

Grey couldn't help herself. She stepped over to the window, and forgot, for a moment, why she was there at all.

Wow.

Grey.

She spun back to face him.

I'm sorry, you're probably tired and I interrupted you, but this... this is a big deal.

It's a good sign.

And I wasn't here to share it with, or there to help you find it.

He did not respond. What did she expect him to say? Grey was struck by the look of him, sculpted out of the shadows by the celestial glow of the planet overhead. His armour looked supernaturally smooth and contoured, and all of Pallis's subtle colours were somehow melting into the grey of the Beskar. She focused and forged ahead.

Is Paz a member of your Tribe?

He is.

And what is the Deep Fountain?

Mando looked disappointed by her question, and he moved to sit on the daybed against the wall.

I was hoping you would know.

Oh. Well, maybe I do and we just don't know it yet.

Grey crossed the small room and sat beside him, handing him the journal.

Maybe it's not stored in my brain, but somewhere in my files. Maybe it's in my archives, back on the Crest. Maybe it won't have been a risky waste of time to go get them after all. I can go check the records I have with me now.

Grey stood quickly to leave for the main room, but before she took more than one step away, she felt Mando's gloved hand on her wrist. He grasped it firmly. The unexpected contact made her gasp. She turned back to him and looked down at his visor, but he was still seated and his gaze was fixed dead ahead. Just as Grey was getting more than a bit confused, she felt him start pulling her back towards him.