Page 138 of Akarnae

“Yes. No. Sort of,” she said, uncertain. “I think I got… injured, but I can’t remember much after that.”

Someone chuckled lightly and Alex realised she and Fletcher weren’t alone in the room. She tried to look behind him, but she couldn’t see who was there.

“Interesting word choice,” Fletcher murmured, “however, I do believe ‘stabbed’ is the more accurate term. The dagger slid straight through your posterior rib cage and punctured your right lung from behind. It was touch and go for a while, young lady. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Alex winced at the memory of the blade tearing into her flesh. “Fine,” she said. “I was stabbed. But how did I get here?”

Darrius came into view then, his silver eyes sparkling even in the low light of the Med Ward. “I believe I can answer that.”

“Darrius!” she cried, pleased to see him. “I thought I heard your weird song!”

“Weird?” he scoffed. “It’s classic folk, I’ll have you know. Extremely popular.”

“If you say so,” she said, sharing a grin with Fletcher as he began to check her vitals.

Darrius ignored her comment and pulled a chair up beside her bed. “I’ve spoken with your roommate, but there are still some questions I have regarding the events from Saturday evening. Would you be so kind as to share your version of the night before I enlighten your understanding of the current situation?”

Alex frowned slightly, trying to piece together what he’d said. The only thing that really stuck was his use of the words ‘Saturday evening’ and not ‘last night’.

“How long have I been here?” she asked.

Darrius and Fletcher shared a glance before the doctor turned back to her. “It’s Tuesday. You’ve been in and out of consciousness for three days.”

Alex gaped at him. Threedays?

She tried to get her head around that and turned back to fill Darrius in.

“Well, it all started when I got hurt in my Combat exam, I guess. Or maybe even before that, when I overheard a conversation between Jarvis, Maggie and the librarian…”

She started at the beginning and didn’t leave anything out. Darrius remained silent throughout her entire tale, flinching only when she mentioned the part about Aven joining their bloodied hands and her being his puppet for a while. When she finished talking, he gently reached across for her left hand and turned her palm upwards. What he was looking for, she wasn’t sure, and after a moment his eyes moved back to her face. He stared at her for a full minute before he released her arm.

“Incredible,” he whispered.

Alex was too busy looking at her hand to question his statement. Her palm was now cleaned of their mixed blood but there was a thin scar left, glowing faintly with a silver sheen, much like the colour of Aven’s unnatural blood.

“Is it meant to look like that?” Alex asked, turning her palm towards Fletcher.

He looked at her in sympathy. “I’m afraid I couldn’t erase it completely. You’ll have that scar for the rest of your life.”

“It’s just a scar,” Alex said, shrugging. “But that’s not what I meant. Is it supposed to be glowing like that?”

Fletcher cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I’ll leave you two alone while I go and update your charts.”

Alex looked at him strangely as he walked off and she turned back to Darrius. “It’s because of Aven’s blood, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I presume you noticed his blood is different to yours?”

“Silver,” she said, shuddering at the memory of it dribbling down her arm.

Darrius nodded and began to explain, “Aven sought to Claim you through a forbidden Meyarin bonding ritual, using his blood as an anchor and yours as a sacrifice. The rest of his race considers it the worst of all possible transgressions, an act punishable by death. To bend the will of another is to take away all of their freedom. The Claiming ritual was believed to be long forgotten, but clearly that’s not the case.”

Alex was glad she was lying down otherwise she probably would have fainted. “Are you saying I’mbondedto him?”

“No, no,” Darrius said, trying to calm her. “Aventriedto Claim you, but you eventually broke through his compulsion. An impossible feat, let me assure you, for anyone other than yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“Had Aven been truly successful, you would have been his slave for the rest of your life, completely obedient to his will. And that life would have been unnaturally long, since you would have shared some of his Meyarin traits as a result of the bonding ritual.”

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