Allice in Mysterious Land (ON HOLD)

25: Alike

"They'll be fine." Roy's voice snaps me back to the stark blue sky and its floating clouds. "Transparent tickets mean private flights."

"I'm not worried about them."

We're lying on the same spot where Sandra and I did last week. Xin-Yo uses a branch as a swing and its arms as the rope. Roy scoots away from the river by resting his back against Xin-Yo's swing-tree. As Xin-Yo chatters in a machinery language, Roy's nails clash against his phone screen, tapping around without a care.

It has been two days.

The trip to Lizare only takes an hour. Our time zones are only apart by an hour too. But they haven't sent anything. Is it that hard to let us know they're still alive and well?

"Allice Worke and Lin-Roy should calm down. Maybe Sandra Hua is still busy."

"Busy?" Roy's tone rises, contradicting his previous attempt to soothe me. "Is that what I should tell her parents?" Palming his face, he says, "Sandra's mom accused us of brainwashing her with some deer-craps about Dogson's politics." He pauses as if rifling through his next words carefully. "Her dad is also enraged after Sandra stole his journal; he doesn't have a copy."

"That must keep him busy for a while."

A guttural chuckle riles up his throat. "Man, how much do Steven Hua and Dad hate me now?"

"Your dad was only after those Onyx Agents we just stole, not you. After Doctor Lionel visited us at the treehouse, Beatrix and her guards came to search for the package. They saw the treehouse, but they left. Beatrix said that neither your dad nor Argus said anything—"

"Does that woman seem innocent?" Roy turns around, facing me with a deep frown. It's my turn to stutter and he takes that bait. "My dad isn't either. Didn't Xin-Yo remind you to stop trusting people so easily? Besides"—his lips curl with distaste as if keeping a sour fruit—"what took you so long to tell me that?"

Not again. This guy... what's with his emotions? Maybe things are being unkind to him lately, but still, it isn't an excuse to randomly lash out. "With everything going on, honestly, I can't remember simple things like this."

Xin-Yo unhooks its fingers from the branch and wobbles back on the ground. Its gaze bridges mine and Roy's. "This isn't the time to be emotional, Lin-Roy."

Roy's temples heat with fury. Biting his tongue, he casts another searching glare at me before slumping down the roots, refocusing on his phone.

I slouch back to the riverside, welcoming the blissful wind that carries a wooden scent. Xin-Yo's footsteps stop next to me. "Allice Worke, please don't bring subjects about Lin-Roy's family..."

A playful and jovial tune wafts from Roy's phone. His fingers convulse briefly before his pointer slips across the screen.

Mr. Orion says with his deep and earthly voice, "Tell me all you know."

The screen blinks with an image—a room with black-and-cream wallpapers, containing a circular table with eight occupied chairs; each person—six lavishly-clothed and two modestly ones—with a frown of their own.

The camera focuses on Mr. Orion's platinum hair and the nasty cuts along his sullen face, which are no doubt the outcome of our last encounter.

"What do I know about what?" Roy strikes back. Xin-Yo and I crawl to his sides. Apparently, instead of attending the video conference, Roy uses an image of the sickly ground as a representative.

I stick my knuckles to the tree's roots at the sight of Jorge Zaragoza, whose hands are supporting his chin while an unenthusiastic vibe swirls in his demonic eyes.