This Isn't About Reya

Chapter Forty-Four

Svetlana sat on the floor for a long time with her knees tucked under her chin, the two bledno-pauka standing silently by the door. She sat in the dampness of the overwhelming silence, listening to nothing but the sounds of Daniil's shallow breathing and her own carefully-regulated breaths. She looked up at the bledno-pauka several times, searching for some sign of response, some indication of a human within their all-encompassing metal armors. But each time, she looked up only to find motionless figurines of steel, statues of titanium. She could not even hear the coursing softlight from within their shells that powered their armor. 

The whole time she sat there, she either tried to think of a way to convince her guards to let her out or searched for a breach in the room through which she could escape. But the room was impenetrable, built to protect the Tsar of War himself - and if there was no way for anyone to get in, then there was no way for her to get out.

The silence of the room was beginning to make her stomach churn. Svetlana stood and began pacing around the room, her footsteps offering some reprieve from the lack of noise. She watched the helmets of the bledno-pauka as she walked, but they did not move in her direction; they persisted in ignoring her existence entirely, protomaterial assault rifles held at the ready in their arms.

She eyed the rifles as she walked, too, reminded of the flamethrowers the detachment outside the woods had armed themselves with. The thought of Azrael burning made her shiver in excitement, and the possibility that Reya had burned with him made her blanch. 

Eventually Svetlana returned to Daniil's side and kneeled next to his body. He'd been asleep for hours. She reached down and felt his pulse along his neck, and found that it seemed weak. She grimaced, stood, and turned to face the bledno-pauk by the door.

"How long have we been in this room?" she asked him.

He did not reply. She sighed heavily and sat down again, her hand resting in Daniil's hair. 

Waiting there on the floor for what could have been hours, she again realized how long she'd been awake and how tired she was. Her eyelids drooped, and she laid down on the floor next to Daniil.

Eventually, she fell asleep, too.

******

When she awoke, Svetlana found that nothing had changed. The bledno-pauka hadn't moved an inch, the red light of the room still shone from nowhere, and the silence remained complete. She groggily rose to a sitting position and tried to fix her mane of blonde hair without a mirror. She blinked up at the bledno-pauka and asked, "How long has it been, now?"

Again, they offered no response.

She looked over at Daniil's sleeping form next to her and realized that he was pale - perhaps paler than when they'd entered the room. A worry gripped her insides, and she reached over and felt his pulse again.

She waited for several seconds before she felt anything. Then, a weak pump. She waited again, unsure of whether or not she had imagined it. Another weak pump, and then another long pause.

Svetlana stood and approached the bledno-pauk by the door, pointing at Daniil. "His pulse is weak and he's pale," she said to him firmly. "We need to get out of this room and get him to a doctor."

The bledno-pauk did not move an inch, but it did reply this time. "We cannot leave until we've received orders from the Tsar of War," his voice said through the electronic filter on his face. 

"He could die here!" Svetlana protested. But the guard offered no further conversation.

"Ugh!" Svetlana ran her hands through her hair again and began pacing the room once more, trying to walk herself awake so that she could think. Her worry was inhibiting her logic; all she could think about was what she'd gotten everybody into.