Page 101 of The Divide that Binds Us

Chapter 21

Prayers

The Superiors

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Prayers.

The Superiors can hear them all.It’s their job to filter and focus on the ones they deem important.

Goosebumps skitter across Evelyn’s arms from prayers for Evangeline’s recovery but there’s nothing the Earth Superior can do.

Prayers, in the end, are meaningless.But Zeala will never know.

“Two dragons left.Shall we consider stepping in sooner?”Frank has paced around the Circle for nearly two days in a trance.Hot light blasts through the stained-glass windows, illuminating his umber skin wrapped regally in his maroon tunic and black pants.His brows indicate his moods since his mouth is lost in his hefty, ivory beard.He occasionally looks at the floating bubble, while the others do in their own versions: Evelyn with disdain, Wyatt with pity, and Amelia with exhaustion.The biggest question they’ve faced now is how have some Spirit Users maintained their strength—if not more—while others have withered into sickness?

Evelyn gingerly twirls a dark lock with her finger and crosses her ankles.Her gray, silk dress hugs loosely around her waist, exposing her whole back while leaving no room for her chest to be seen, just as she likes it.

“Why?We agreed to see it through to the end.That’s two dragons left,” she notes.She grabs another strand and twines her hair together absently.

“You’ve lost your spirit and love for Zeala,” Frank sighs.

Evelyn looks down at the strands she tangled.“Maybe.”

“I didn’t think it’d look this bad already,” Amelia whispers.She stares at Evelyn, but she doesn’t return the gaze and keeps her eyes low on her hair.Her mouth is tight across her face, suppressing the bitterness pooling on her tongue.

With the constant murders toward humans and dragons, they’ve exhausted their efforts to remain positive.

More prayers have flooded the Superiors’ veins since Alice’s outburst, especially from Garnet citizens—many injured and afraid.Anxiety layers itself on the land, disguised as comfort.People breathe shaky sighs of relief, but agitation is dripping at the tips of their fingers.

Too many deaths and no births yet to undo the despair Zeala now weeps amongst its civilians.Worry has bled from island to island as travelers by train exchange and infect each other with whispers of the future.

Wyatt’s gaze zones into the sphere, watching people struggle with the changes Zeala is experiencing.A young individual attempts to surf as part of their routine, but the waves never come forth.The ocean bubbles menacingly.A family’s garden is ravaged by flies and rodents who have come out of hiding.Vultures no longer inspect dead creatures on lonely roads but instead stalk citizens in busy cities.A coffee shop temporarily shuts down its business until they’re able to successfully produce coffee beans and grounds that don’t turn into soggy clumps.

Amelia frowns.“We receive many prayers now.More than ever.People don’t understand why this is happening.”

“I understand not wanting to cause a panic with our presence, but maybe that’s what everyone needs right now,” Frank says.

“What?Panic?”Wyatt chortles.

Frank grimaces.“No.PRESENCE.”

“Right.”Wyatt clears his throat and straightens up in his seat.

A family of five scream in horror when they discover maggots in their new refrigerator.Amelia looks away to keep herself from gagging at the slimy sight and stares at her colleagues instead.The room continues its hum as noises erupt from the sphere in such a fluid way, like they’re listening to Zealans underwater.

Wyatt stands up and claps his hands together.“The hourglasses.”

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