Alex in Wunderstrande: The Clairvoyance Clock [BOOK ONE]

Chapter XXXV: Picking Up the Broken Pieces

When my consciousness returned, it took several painstaking moments to summon the will to open my eyes.

Halfway between afternoon and evening, the dimming Industrian sunlight illuminated the unfamiliar room in a soft, orange glow. A velvet chair had been propped to the right of the four-poster bed, littered by an extensive amount of notebooks and fountain pens that spanned from the chair to the mahogany side table. One particular book had been folded open so many times that it bared a spread of an elaborate dirigible design with inked arrows and various notes cluttering the margins. My eyes traced the paper trail across the wooden floor to a man who looked much like Brody. He stood with his back facing me and hands folded behind him, casting what I could only imagine was a pensive stare out the window.

Suddenly, everything came flooding back to me, drowning me in grey-tinged misery. I had failed. Brody was dead. Perhaps I was as well, seeing as the man by the window bore such a stark resemblance to him.

The Brody-lookalike shifted his focus downward to an antique globe display on top of a chiffonier. He spun the sphere on its metallic axis, allowing a finger to trace its circumference.

"Am I dead?" I finally asked, my voice feeble and cracking from the lack of use.

Startled, the man nearly knocked the globe from its resting place. But when he turned to face me, I gasped.

It was Brody!

He hurried across the room and smiled broadly when his eyes met my mine.

"He lives!" Brody exclaimed, joy bubbling beneath the surface. He sat down and shook my shoulder, which awakened the soreness in my middle. He undoubtedly caught on, ceasing immediately when he noted my pained reaction.

"But how—you died—shot," I stammered, trying to comprehend what had happened.

"Your friend Jayce is quite the clever one," Brody said with a smile. "Together, we enacted a plan that would not only help me disappear from the public eye for a while, but also convince Lucian that I was dead."

I stared at him questioningly.

"She switched out Lucian's blaster cartridges for blanks," he explained. "Well, one of those theatrical ones that discharge fake blood."

"Ah."

"Alex," he said, lightly placing his hand on my arm. "I'm so glad you're safe."

I smiled feebly. "I'm so glad you're alive."

Brody adjusted his spectacles, as if that alone would put an end to the tears flooding his eyes. He managed a smile, but it was considerably weighed down by contrite brokenness. I noticed his facial wounds looked a bit better than before, but the bruises remained. Still, something lay on the tip of his tongue, a statement, perhaps a musing. Maybe he was thinking of how to scold me for running away. Or, maybe he was attempting to put into words everything he'd been wanting to tell me since I disappeared.