The Nightwalker

Chapter 4

The first time Lena woke up, she remembered lying in a hard bed and being fed with coconut water. Her ears grasped the hint of hushed whispers, the sound of machine whirring on her bedside, and something suspiciously sounded like a hum. Her eyes felt heavy, but she managed to get a glimpse of her surroundings.

Once she opened her eyes, everything was out of focus. The myriad of colors burst and danced on her eyelids as though she was in a psychedelic induced fever. She craned her head and her eyes landed on a robed figure sitting at her side.

Lena immediately croaked, "Thane?"

"I'm not Thane." The voice sounded like it belonged to a woman.

She looked around, her shoulders tensed as though she was afraid someone might be eavesdropping. "She's fine, dotmîr‎. Just rest."

Lena's head felt as though it was cleaved into two. Pain throbbed on the back of her head so viciously she was surprised that it didn't crack her skull open. Lena choked her impending vomit and slurred, "Where is sh—did you just called me dotmîr‎?"

Something whirred on the background, a machine of some sort, and the woman jumped in alarm. The sound of heavy footsteps thundered down the hallway.

"I can't say anything right now," the woman whispered, her eyes sparkled with purple light. "Once you're awake, find Kat. She's the only one who can free Thane."

"...Who?"

Lena tried to discern her features, anything that would help her remember. The woman adjusted her cloak and stepped back in the dimmest part of the room.

She waved her hand. The shadows had twisted around her, momentarily, and the air unraveled into a chasm. She began to melt into the darkness until she blended and disappeared into oblivion.

Lena felt her eyes closing on their own will and darkness took her once more.

***

By the time Lena had woken up for good, she was alone. She was in the sick bay, surrounded by a limp curtain that separated her bed from the rest. Lena noticed that she was still wearing her clothes. They were badly burned, soiled with dirt and soot, but nonetheless modestly covered her body. The Redfern insignia was gone, replaced by a charred indistinguishable clump at the top of her chest.

Lena became aware of the dryness of her throat. She craned her neck and surveyed the table on her side, looking for a possible sign of water in its jumbled mess of decanters. Everything was made of silver. Lena shuddered; she could already taste the metallic tang at the tip of her tongue.

Defeated, Lena thought of other ways to scourge for water. Maybe she could sniff the decanters? Lena wrinkled her nose at the thought. Thane would be livid if she found out that Lena was sniffing unknown substances right in the middle of a human, probably dangerous, territory.

Her eyes raked the table once more, this time with abandoned longing, and her eyes caught the sight of the black leather box hidden amongst the containers. It was the size of her palm, seared on the edges like it had been salvaged in a fire.

Lena jolted awake as though she was doused by a bucket of iced water. The box was Samara's gift. Lena extended her hand, eagerly anticipated to see what her friend gave her for her birthday until the hairs on the back of her neck sat upright. Someone was staring at her. How did she not notice it before?

Lena croaked, "Who's there?" Her voice was vigilant yet sounded rough. Her throat felt calloused, damaged, and in desperate need of a glass of water.