She Who Sees Through Darkness

Part Twenty-Three

Two hours later, and it was all arranged. Shawn had brought a laptop with a secured connection. In terse words, he'd explained to Director Fairfax what kind of weapon Synthos was building. Katrina had sat quietly besides him, knowing the director trusted Shawn much more than her. The director swore to reinstate Katrina in return for her prize. A transport plane would meet her the next evening at the base of Mount Orso, a peak of the Brooks Range toward the Canadian border. Satellite images of Wyvernhall had found a loophole in its borders. The plane crew would bring along nets and tranquilizers.

"I'll see you then," Shawn said, his eyes full of worries. She knew he hated the idea, but Indigo needed what she could give them, and Indigo always came first for both of them.

"I'll be there," she said, and hugged him. I'll show you.

A clear glass jug waited outside her suite when she returned. She'd tried to keep down her excitement, since the pressure in the back of her head told her Payaa had returned. Nevertheless, a spike of warm energy ran through her as she reached down to lift the jug. It didn't move. Guess I'll have to drag it.

Aren't you supposed to avoid that stuff? Payaa asked.

Are you my sponsor? Get out. The cravings she used to feel had dimmed, but her rational mind knew very well that this would help her relax. She needed to relax. She could handle herself. A dozen memories of times when she hadn't handled herself bubbled up. She ignored them.

She bent to drag the jar. Her hands froze halfway there.

Payaa made her stand up. Katrina, you almost killed yourself the last time you relapsed!

Her blood ran cold. How the hell had the wyvern discerned that piece of information? It's none of your business how I spend my time! She fought the bonds, trying to slide her thoughts back into her hands. For a moment, she contemplated trying to see if she could pull off the opposite maneuver and control Payaa, but grappling two-ways for control would require a terrifying degree of intimacy.

Tayamlaa! Payaa called into the echoing space between the minds of wyverns. Fear lined her thoughts. Get your pilot up there! He'll know what to do!

Right away! Tayamlaa's mental voice was richer, somehow, and the quick reply carried a hint of subservience. Katrina distinctly remembered Tayamlaa seemed almost two feet shorter in length than Payaa.

You're the boss of them, Katrina realized. But you're still scared for me.

And?

Not good. Leaders shouldn't show fear. People have to believe a leader is in control before they feel comfortable following them.

And you'd know? What do you know about fear? Nothing! And fearlessness isn't a virtue. You don't care about anyone enough to worry about them! You don't even care about your own well-being! Look what you're doing to yourself!

Katrina looked at her hand, frozen a foot from the jar lid. Heat filled her cheeks. That's none of your business.

Of course it is! Don't you think it might affect me, if you start drinking again? We're linked together. Your actions affect both of us, and I will keep you sober.

Kyle shook his head as he walked up the hallway. "Really, Katrina?" He knelt to pick up the jug, failed, and pulled out the stopper and knocked it on its side. The smell tugged at a wave of memories: some happy, some blurry. A weak craving tugged at her. She could resist it. She wasn't sure she wanted to.

"You didn't have to do that," she said.

"Why? Because you can control yourself?" He kicked the empty jug down the hallway. It hit a wall and shattered. "You're such a damn liar, you know? But for fuck's sake, stop lying to yourself! You're an alcoholic. You told me, up on that ledge. That means you can't always control yourself. I was there, that last night in the city! You knew you couldn't control yourself, and you went out anyway—"

"To keep my eyes on you!" she shouted. "Because that was my job. Watching you, because you're a thirty-year-old man who can't be trusted to behave himself in public!"

"You should have told me the truth years ago!" His already-tilted eyebrows sloped higher. "You think you would have been fired if you'd spoken up? Katrina, I might have been a shitty friend, but I wouldn't have let that happen!"

"You drank on the plane." It was almost a whisper. The whole conversation made her want to curl up and vanish. "The day after I almost killed myself because I relapsed. You went to the bar and started drinking in front of me."

His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed, hard. "You're right. I wasn't—no, I should have thought. I should have cared enough about you to control myself. I know, I should have known."

She couldn't remember ever hearing him apologize for anything before. "Kyle, it's okay."

"Not Kyle." He smiled, slightly. "Face it, Kyle Winters was an asshole. I don't want to be that person anymore. I . . . I won't be that person. Call me Quickfingers, like Tayamlaa does."

"It's okay," she said, "Quickfingers." As the name left her mouth, it went from strange to solid. This wasn't the same man she'd known all her life.

He pulled a box of playing cards from his pocket. "Come on. I'm going to keep an eye on you tonight. Round of war will be good for us both."

She found she could stand, and move her hands again. "Thanks," she muttered.

"I'm doing it for Payaa, too. She's got a good heart."

They played cards until midnight. He sat at her kitchen table after she crawled into bed. The words to say 'thank you' never seemed to make it into her mouth before she fell asleep.

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