When she heard the Kithrak pound on her cell door, Ellyne quickly hid the dagger in her waistband of her dingy white pants. She only had two real options—slide it under her mattress or keep it on her somewhere, and she knew full well a weapon was useless if you didn’t have immediate access to it when you needed it. It was a risky gamble, but what was the worst they could do to her—besides what they’d already done?
She was sure of one thing—the Kithrak wanted her alive. They could have killed her at any time, especially as retaliation for the myriad things she’d done, but they hadn’t. She knew they would try everything to keep her alive, but the question was, why? Were her blood samples really that important to them?
She assumed she was being tested and observed. Her daily hour in the courtyard most likely wasn’t solely for her benefit, and there were times they poked and prodded her in the lab—the blood samples, for example. She didn’t understand why she was so important, but she didn’t wish to stick around to discover the answer.
She was, however, acutely aware that she was important, and such a fact was advantageous.
“Move to the back of the cell,” the husky Kithrak voice grunted, pounding on the door again. “And keep your hands where we can see them.”
Ellyne did as she was instructed, as she had countless times before. She lost track of time, but it seemed early for her hour of “free time.” Either that, or she’d been unconscious for a lot longer than she suspected.
Ellyne looked down at her hip to see if the dagger produced any noticeable bulge to attract Kithrak suspicion. From her view, she couldn’t see anything amiss, but the real test would come soon enough.
There was no jangling of keys or sound of a lock being turned. Instead, the door simply swung open and a hulking Kithrak entered her cell, slamming the door behind him.
“Shit,” Ellyne muttered, “definitely not time for my hour of ‘me’ time.”
This particular Kithrak was one of the largest she’d seen. He had three eyes and four thick, muscular arms. And he didn’t look jovial.
“So,” Ellyne said, feeling sweat on her forehead, “you’re not here to discuss the finer points of knitting, are you?” She kept her right hand near her concealed weapon, ready to use it at a moment’s notice. This situation was new to her, but the circumstances weren’t promising.
She knew why he was here—punishment. While she was still certain she was not to die this day, a broken arm or leg might not be out of the question. The Kithrak in the lab probably ordered this retaliation, and most likely not just because of the “your mom” joke.
From what she could tell, the more arms and eyes a Kithrak had, the more important they were, and the doctor guy had plenty of each. Screwing with two-eyed, two-armed guards was inconsequential, but she’d messed with the wrong Kithrak, apparently. And this thug was likely almost as important.
“Not exactly,” the beastly guard replied.
The door was shut but Ellyne believed it to still be unlocked. She might be able to get past the guard and make a break for it if she could keep moving. But she also had a weapon, now, and this Kithrak didn’t know that. Surprise was on her side, and she was going to take advantage of it.
“Look,” she pleaded, “When I spoke about the doc’s mother, what I meant to say was that she’s probably a classy lady and absolutely doesn’t smell like a broken toilet.”
The Kithrak ... chuckled? Ellyne had never heard anything remotely close to laughter emanate from her captors, but this particular guard found something funny? Until now, she wasn’t sure Kithrak knew how to laugh.
“I’m glad you found that funny,” she said, drawing her dagger and extending pressing the button, “because this is going to hurt!”
A worried look replaced the smile and the guard gasped, throwing his hands out in front of him. “No, wait a minute!” he pleaded, backing up into the door. “Hang on a second!”
Ellyne, confused, kept her blade pointed at the guard, wondering why she hadn’t run him through by now. The guard, with fear all over his face, said nothing but kept his hands in front of him, waving them slightly.
“Just ... wait,” he said.
“You’ve got ten seconds, which is ten seconds more than you deserve.”
“I see you haven’t changed at all,” the guard laughed. “That’s good.”
“What?”
“And I see my spell worked! You got my present!” He pointed to the sword in Ellyne’s hand. “I hadn’t ever tried it before and I should have practiced but I was pretty sure it was going to work, but not absolutely sure but I see it worked!”
“Three seconds.”
“Oh,” the guard stammered, “right, I completely forgot! Hang on a sec.”
The massive Kithrak shook his head a few times and mumbled some words Ellyne didn’t recognize and, as he did so, his appearance shifted drastically.
Ellyne watched in awe as the once hulking guard shrunk and morphed into a much smaller woman who looked strangely familiar.
Before Ellyne could even lower her blade, the woman had her arms around her, hugging her tightly. Ellyne, still clutching her blade and absolutely confused, tried to squirm out of it, but the girl’s grip was too tight. She let the hug go on for several seconds before squirming some more.
“Okay, okay,” she said, having a difficult time breathing, “this is really weird, and I have no idea what’s going on. You’ve also got a surprisingly strong bear hug going on here.”
“Oh, right, sorry!” The girl released her and backed up a bit. She, like the woman in Ellyne’s dream, had black hair that tumbled past her shoulders, and piercing green eyes. Unlike the woman (or girl—Ellyne wasn’t sure) in her vision, this girl was wearing all black—shirt, pants, and boots.
“I forgot about ... you know, the whole memory thing. Oh, you can put your blade away and, by that, I mean please put your blade away. I don’t really want to get stabbed today. Or tomorrow or the next day, actually. How about just … no stabbing, okay?”
Ellyne, never taking her eyes off the girl, retracted her blade and tucked it into the waistband of her pants.
“Talk,” Ellyne said.
“Well, you see ... the thing about that is, we don’t have a lot of time to catch up right now. But my name’s Nicole Saranuin, and we’re friends!”
“Shortage of time seems to be the norm around here but, while I don’t like it, I’m inclined to agree.” Ellyne relaxed a little but kept her guard up as she was wont to do. “So, friends, huh?”
“Yes! Good friends!” Nicole stood nervously. “We’ve been through so much together and I can’t wait for you to remember it all!”
“I don’t mean to be rude ... what was your name again?”
“Nicole.”
“Again, I don’t mean to be rude, Nicole, but without even knowing a whole lot about myself, you don’t exactly seem like the type of person I’d be friends with.”
“I know, right?” Nicole laughed. “I know this all seems really weird and you’re confused and like ‘what the bleepity bleep is going on here?’ but you and I are definitely best friends and hopefully you’ll remember that soon enough!”
Ellyne blinked her eyes, staring at this rambling girl in her cell, unable to think of a coherent reply to this conversation.
“Me,” she stammered, “friends with, what, a nineteen-year-old girl? I don’t even know how old I am but I’m probably twice your age at least.”
“I’m twenty-seven!” Nicole shouted, putting her hand over her mouth after she realized how loud she had just been. “I’m twenty-seven,” she repeated in a whisper. “And you’re … thirty-nine, I think. Maybe forty. You never talked much about your age. Come to think of it, you never talked much about your past at all. Of course, a lot of it is printed in history books so it’s largely unnecessary to hear it from you. Anyway, look, there’s a lot to explain and we can’t wait around until your memory comes back but maybe if you hold this it will help you remember.”
The girl waved her hand in front of her and produced a gun from thin air, handing it to Ellyne who hesitated at first, but took the weapon.
She held the cold steel of a golden eight-shot revolver. Running her fingers over it was almost like visiting an old friend. She remembered this gun and holding it in her hands felt ... right. There were a lot of memories attached to this weapon and she could almost feel them hovering on the fringes of her mind.
“I figured you needed your sidekick,” Nicole said. “Well, your other sidekick of course … besides me, I mean.”
“I ... I remember this,” Ellyne said, keeping her gaze down and scrutinizing the weapon. It felt as if she held a piece of herself in her hands.
Nicole clapped her hands together and beamed. “Good. That’s a start!”
“I’d say you creating a gun out of nothing was the strangest thing I’ve seen today but, after your little transformation from Kithrak to human, it’s only a close second.”
Nicole giggled. “Well, I didn’t create that gun,” she said. “I merely brought it with me. It’s yours of course. A golden gun for the Golden Gunslinger.”
Ellyne paused, mulling over the words Nicole uttered. There was familiarity in that moniker. “That’s me ... isn’t it? The Golden Gunslinger.”
“Yes, Ellyne, that’s you ... and you are my friend. I wish we had time—and a nicer place—to catch up but right now we need to get out of here.” Nicole poked her head out the cell door briefly before ducking back inside. “Also, uh, there’s one more thing you should know. I’m not alone. I brought help.”
“Whatever increases our odds of getting out of here,” Ellyne replied, “is fine by me.”
“Yeah,” Nicole stammered, scratching her head, “so, about that ...”
A bald man in purple robes slipped into the cell and tossed a satchel at Ellyne’s feet. His eyes—one green and the other blue—never strayed from her, as if he were ... afraid?”
“You son of a bitch!” Ellyne shouted, pointing her gun at the man and pulling the trigger several times.
The man flinched but no bullets fired.
“And that is precisely why I didn’t load the gun,” Nicole laughed. “I mean, I really hoped your reaction would be different, but I know you well enough to understand.”
Ellyne pulled the trigger several more times. “You brought Marik with you? Give me my bullets.”
“I thought you said she had no memory, Nicole!” the man growled. “Seems to me like she remembers plenty.”
Ellyne clenched her jaw and winced as spittle took to the air from the man’s mouth when he spoke that last word.
“Oh, you remember him though!” Nicole said excitedly. “This is progress!”
“I don’t often forget those who double cross me, knock out one of my teeth, shoot me, and leave me for dead.” Ellyne ran her tongue over the missing molar as instinct took over. “Now give me my ammo so I can give it to this asshole.”
“You said she wouldn’t remember,” Marik insisted again.
“I didn’t think she would! But it’s a good sign she does!”
“Not from where I’m standing.”
“Then we’re in agreement,” Ellyne added.
“We’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” Nicole said, “but now’s not the time or place for that. Our time here is short and it’s running out quickly, so if you could ...” Nicole pointed to the gray satchel on the floor.
“What’s this?” Ellyne asked, nudging the satchel with her foot.
“Your clothes, silly!” Nicole laughed. “You can’t go walking around in those dirty ... well, whatever they are, forever. They’re nasty! Do the Kithrak even have laundry facilities here?”
“Says the girl who was wearing that awful red outfit in my dream.”
“I thought my old clothes might jog your memory or something. But, as you can see, I’ve made upgrades!” She laughed and took a turn as if she were a fashion model. “They’re a little tight, but far more functional. Now come on and change. I promise you’ll feel more like yourself!”
Ellyne opened the satchel and stripped to her underwear in front of both Marik and Nicole without a shred of compunction or modesty. She slipped on a white tank top, pulled on black pants, and laced her black boots.
“You’re right,” she said, finishing buckling her belt, “this does feel much better than that garbage the Kithrak gave me to wear.”
She slipped into her black leather jacket, slid the dagger into an inside pocket, and shoved her revolver into the holster at her hip.
“And that feels perfect,” she continued. Then she held out her palm. “Now hand over the ammo.”
“Only if you promise not to shoot Marik,” Nicole replied. “He’s helping us get out of here.”
“I promise not to shoot Marik,” Ellyne sneered, “yet.”
Marik and Nicole exchanged nervous glances before Nicole waved her hand again and produced five cylinders that floated over to Ellyne who grabbed them.
“It’s all we could find,” Nicole continued, “so make them count.”
Ellyne grabbed her weapon, flicked open the chamber, and slammed in a fresh cartridge before flicking it shut again. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I will.”
“Now you sound like you!” Nicole cheered.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Marik grumbled.
“You should be,” Ellyne said.