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“I TRANSPORTED to Susana just like everyone else there, only I hadn’t been chased by the Uproar or The Chars,” Calla continued. “Before I knew it, I felt half-alive and half-dead, in a world that was part real and part illusion. My space in Susana felt as real as it had at Lake Winston. I knew the water was silver, but I didn’t care. I felt the Uproar attacking me, but I couldn’t flinch. Each time it attacked, I felt weaker, more helpless, more scared. I couldn’t protect anyone around me from being attacked. And worst of all, I couldn’t find you.”
Her explanation tore at my heart. It bled, soaking the inside of my chest.
“I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t blame you,” she breathed. “I was stupid to think I’d be that important to you. I lost sight of everything else that mattered. So stupid.”
I traced the line along her cheekbone. “You’re not stupid. You’re brave, and talented. I can’t believe you were searching for me all that time, while I sat back and wasted it.”
Calla stared at me, her gray eyes misted with grief. Shame grasped me by the throat and refused to let go. I let myself choke a while longer before explaining. “At first, I didn’t try to search for you. I thought that my presence was what attracted the Uproar to you. I didn’t want you to die...because of me.”
“That’s why you rejected me?”
“Perhaps the feeling was so strong that every version of me followed suit, to protect you—having no idea that it didn’t help at all.”
She drew in a quick breath. “I thought it was strange. Several times I noticed the Uproar was only present when you were there.”
I nodded. “And so I tried to end it, even though I fully knew that the Uproar had been after Plaka before he disappeared behind the Fire Falls.”
“Then why do you think it attacked when you were with me?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. At first I thought it had to do with a bond between us, something I suppose I secretly hoped existed. And because—” Should I tell her?
“And?”
“And because I’d experienced something similar with someone else.”
“Someone else?” Blood drained from her cheeks. “You mean like a girlfriend?”
Why couldn’t I say anything the right way? “Not another woman, a family member. An Uproar killed my father. It happened after a series of attacks, all of which occurred while I was present. I’d assumed it was my fault. That I had something to do with it.” I lowered my head, feeling foolish on multiple levels. “I’d even turned myself in...to the TSTA.”
I pulled the declaration from my pocket, my admission to my part in my father’s death. Not that it mattered anymore. It may have never been true. Still, my breathing paused as she read it.
A light flickered inside the grays of her eyes, as if the last few pieces of a puzzle had dropped into place. “Your father, Jim Hall.”
“It was bound to happen, eventually, given the disparity in my parents’ timelines—Earth’s England versus Aboreal. But I’d always thought I’d sped up the process by being the cause of his Uproar attacks. I’d convinced myself that the time I spent alone was meant to protect them, that they’d left me for long periods of time, because the time I spent with him caused him pain.”
Through gritted teeth, I added, “Shortly afterward, I met Plaka, who became my Healer.”
She held my hand, making small circles along the top of it with her thumb. “So, the very little amount of time you spent with your father ended in Uproar attacks? That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”
“Not as sorry as my mother was. She didn’t blame me, of course. She’d been prepared for him to die much earlier than she would. But it still came as a shock. I’m just happy that the Uproar—yours and Plaka’s—is gone now, that it disappeared when you were freed from Susana.”
Calla casually flipped the declaration to the other side. I cringed with her as she read the part I’d written about how I’d thought the same horrifying events had happened to her—that she’d been in danger all because I was near.
I pretended not to notice as Calla handed the declaration back to me with fresh tears in her eyes.
I folded the paper and shoved it back in my pocket.
Her lips bowed downward. “Does the same thing happen with The Chars? Do they also disappear when their Lost are set free?”
“I haven’t asked Plaka, but I expect so. I hadn’t known they were similar to Uproars in terms of feeding off the Lost.” My skin crawled. I had Chars of my own to worry about. Worse yet, I had three of them.
“Valcas?”
I tried to relax, figuring I’d tensed when I thought about The Chars that were still after me. Since I was being so open, I saw no point in avoiding her question. “At various times throughout my travels I’ve encountered The Chars. It’s always the same exact three.”
Calla groaned. “We have to figure out how to eliminate them, to get them away from you—from everyone.”
“Or we need to find a way to empty Susana, to free all of the Lost and the beings that drive them there. Now we know why you and Plaka are so important. It’s more than just being able to heal people who are Lost. We’ve learned there are varying degrees of lost. Those occupying Susana are deserving of a capital L. You and Plaka can free them, too.”
“And we will.”
Hearing her say so was wonderful; her strength and resolve warmed me. A great burden lifted from me. I’d been able to explain, and she didn’t hate me for it. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined Calla had been searching for me. More wondrous yet was that she didn’t blame me, she blamed herself. And somehow she had it in her to thank me for finding her, when really it was a team effort.
But that didn’t solve Us. She’d warmed toward me time and again. I’d pushed her away, as did past versions of me. How could I have done that? Unless, subconsciously, I knew that our relationship couldn’t be because of a deeper problem, one less solvable. That each of us was bound by the discrepancy of our timelines.
***
PLAKA RETURNED TO THE Clock Tower with grins and gusto.
Nick and Ray surprised him, and the rest of us, with delicacies from Chascadia. Plaka openly relished the tastes of home. Even more so, he seemed excited about sharing his Chascadian heritage with Calla.
“This,” said Plaka, pointing to a plate of sugared figs, sliced and layered with slivers of bovine meat, “was your grandfather Salomao Plaka’s favorite treat. Your grandmother, Dara, used to tell him to go easy on it, though. He wasn’t an active man, not a traveler like us.”
I chewed. The sweetness of the fig complimented the savoriness of the meat. It was excellent, as were the fish stuffed with fried cheeses, minced lamb and cakes made with lemon and olive oil. Each food was rich, usually reserved for ceremonies and special occasions. Nick must have had a fortune to be able to buy food like this. I scanned the walls of the loft, noting the lack of furnishings. The Aborealian trunk he used for his clothing was small. He hung his two coats on pegs that stuck out from the wall. Right now, one of the pegs was empty. Perhaps he’d saved what he didn’t spend on private possessions.
“Was Grandma Dara a traveler?” asked Calla.
“A Remnant Transporter, like you and me. Chascadia honored your grandmother by marking the place of her death with a crown of laurel and rose gold, a symbol of her contributions as a healer.” He bowed.
After waiting a breath, Plaka’s head snapped up again. He raised a glass of honeyed kraspota, the Chascadian equivalent of Aboreal’s laramile. “To Nick!” he said, slapping the Time Keeper on the back. “And to Ray—for bringing us this feast!” He stood up, raising his body along with his voice. “Also to the hasty departure of the banes of Susana that will no longer be. Once we are finished with them, may they leave the Lost to live, or to rest, in peace.”
Calla and Ray tensed. Their countenances flashed from lighthearted to serious.
I glanced at Nick and shook my head. Leave it to Plaka. His passion was amusing to watch, but he knew how to ruin the mood for a good party.
We lifted our glasses anyway, and drank.
Plaka wiped his lips with the back of his sleeve. “Now that we are refreshed, we return to Susana.” He held out his hand to Calla.
She accepted and, whether she realized it or not, she agreed to the mission.