Page 92 of The Alien in the Archive

Really? The audacity…when she claimed it was me who didn’t respect her?

I take a step closer to her, angry now. She doesn’t so much as flinch, even when I face her down. I’m tempted to pour my memories into her, show her all the things she claims to understand so well…but I fear it would only give her greater sympathy toward me.

So I grit my teeth and try to breathe.

“Imagine, Page,” I start, “that you are watching the wholesale enslavement of the Skoll. Broken bargains, lies and deceit…your military commanders destroying their willpower through telepathy. And across the galaxy, on Eyela, on the Nyeri’i homeworld…your doctors and scientists are carrying outhideousexperiments. They extract Elixir until it cracks the planet.”

“I know all of this,” she tries to interrupt. “Thorne, come on?—”

“But that isn’t the point I’m trying to make,” I go on. “The point is that my reaction was towrite. Not to go to Eyela and get those victims out. Not to visit Kanin and join with the resistance—because there was, in fact, a resistance, and Boreans were among them…but they died natural deaths.”

That, at least, seems to surprise her. She finally falters, eyes flickering for just a moment.

“That wasn’t in the sources,” she says.

“I’m sure it wasn’t,” I say. “Because I retracted my statements on it so I could continue to receive my share of Elixir. And when I said too much, and the Empire finally came for me, I didn’t stand up for myself. I ran.”

“Fine,” she snaps, her temper reigniting. “Fine, Goddamn it, but you are missing the fucking point.”

I open my mouth to retort, but she cuts me off, stepping closer, her words tumbling out in a rush.

“I have to find a way to convince the university that you arenota monster, Thorne!” she shouts, voice cracking. “Do you understand? I love you, and you are making this so,sohard.”

Her voice breaks on those last words, a wave of energy rolling off her and disturbing the dust in the room.

And it’s only then that I see the tears in her eyes. The shift is so abrupt that I don’t know what to say or how to react—her anger giving way to something deeper, something I wasn’t prepared for. I didn’t think she could pivot this quickly to despair, but she’s crying now, and Icaused that…

“Page…” My voice softens instinctively, hands twitching as I resist the urge to pull her into my arms. I don’t think she wants to be touched right now. “I am trying to protect you. You’re everything to me.”

Her breath hitches, and for a moment, I think she mightlet me closer. But then her shoulders stiffen and she swipes her tears away with the back of her hand, expression hardening like she realized she forgot to be angry.

“If you mean that, the self-flagellation has to stop,” she says. She’s talking through it to try to regain her footing, her composure, and I watch as she calms herself. “I get it. You’re carrying centuries of guilt, and you think you’re doing me a favor by keeping me at arm’s length. But at this point…it’s hot and cold. It’sconfusing. One minute you’re promising me a normal life and babies and…andtrying…and the next you’re back in this fucking spiral. I need you to work with me.”

I look into her eyes, which are shining bright silver. She’s unyielding.

“I don’t deserve you,” I murmur.

She shakes her head and splays out her hands with a shrug. “Too bad. You have me.”

We stand there for a long time, at an impasse. She’s said her piece; I’ve said mine.

And as usual, she’s right.

“Look,” she says. “All I want is for you to read the book, see if it stirs up some memories. I have to start building a case for your redemption, and we havetwo weeksto do it. So…read the book. Contact me if you find something that could help.”

“Contact you?” I frown. “You’re not coming back?”

“Things are too hot right now,” she sighs. “Davina is going to be watching the time I spend in the Obscuary, and I have a lot of work to do.”

I nod, unable—or perhaps unwilling—to find the words to tell her how much I hate that she has to go, how much I need her here. She slides the bookcase open, stepping into the corridor.

“Page,” I call after her, and she pauses, looking back at me.

“I love you,” I say, voice rough.

She smiles. “I love you too, Thorne. Even when you’re being impossible.”

And then she’s gone, the bookcase sliding shut behind her.

---