Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 131364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
She gave him a lopsided smile. “You’re really good for my ego.”
“Thanks, sweetheart,” Saoirse said just then, after accepting a second box a teenage girl with curls the same shade as her own had just pushed over on a cart using one hand; her other arm, Bram realized, was strapped up with a highly effective and fast-acting compound designed to help bones knit together.
“Gen-seal?” he asked the healer after the teenager departed. “I noticed the slight glow to the cast.”
Naia nodded. “I’ve found that using Gen-seal in conjunction with my own abilities ramps up the healing in our children by a significant margin. Doesn’t work as well with adults, but with how many broken wings we handle in the fledglings, I’ll take it.”
“These,” Saoirse said, having opened the box, “are samples of materials we rejected because they seem to serve no shielding purpose—but who knows with psychic powers? Let’s just try.”
It was only once she was close to him—and Dahlia had moved away so he could focus—that he saw the grief in her eyes, the way lines had formed around her lips. “Why do you care so much about Eleri?” he asked, wanting to understand why this stranger to him was fighting so hard to save part of his family.
“She saved my baby girl by giving herself to a monster,” was the soft answer. “And Adam? He’s my younger brother.”
Bram understood. Saoirse had to try everything, even when the chance of success was less than zero. Bram would try with her; perhaps between them, they could save their siblings.
Chapter 44
I’m sending you this message so it’ll be waiting when you wake up. Because you have to wake up. You’re my sister, the one who always knows what to do. I need you. Please wake up.
—Message from Saffron Bianca to Eleri Dias (7 p.m. today)
Bram, why aren’t you responding to your messages? We’ve almost finished handling the situation with Shiloh, but the two of us…we’re not…doing okay with both you and Eleri MIA. You told me to always talk, always share my feelings. Please respond.
—Message from Yúzé Kanagawa to Bram Priest (7:15 p.m. today)
Adam thrust both hands through his hair as he stood against the wall beside Eleri’s hospital bed. One of the nurses had started up a huge comm screen on the other side of the room that displayed a peaceful forest scene accompanied by the sounds of nature: birdcalls, leaves rustling, a soft wind.
“The empaths recommend gentle stimulation to help keep wounded brains active,” Dr. Czajka had said. “We may as well try it, though I think Eleri’s down too deep to perceive it even with her subconscious.”
Ironically, the sights and sounds were helping Adam maintain his composure. Naia had been keeping him updated on Saoirse’s experiments with Bram—the man had managed to hold on to this point, but he’d started bleeding from the nose with the last batch of tests.
“He’s in pain,” Naia had told Adam. “Dahlia’s already yelled at him twice for wanting to continue, but man’s stubborn. There’s a point at which this will become torture, but he’s told Saoirse to keep going until she has nothing left to test. She’s desperate—even tried lead.”
She’d also told him of Dahlia’s promise to drive Bram out into the peace of the desert, so he could die without the pressure of hundreds of voices in his head. “If that’s going to happen,” the healer had said, “it’ll have to be within the next two hours. He’s admitted that the voices are getting louder by the minute.”
“Saoirse even tried the stone of the Canyon,” Adam told Eleri, his shoulders in knots and his spine rigid. “Bayani managed to slice it out and the two of them put it on some kind of frame that they could place around Bram’s head to see if the minerals within would stop telepathic noise.”
It hadn’t worked.
Adam hadn’t expected it to—because while it blocked teleporters from getting into the Canyon, he knew Sascha and Hanz had used telepathy to communicate during Hanz’s attempt to help Jacques. They’d been inside the Canyon at the time, the stone of it all around them.
“I wanted it to work even knowing it wouldn’t.” He walked over to stand beside Eleri’s bed, take her hand in his. It was cold, and even thinner than usual. Rubbing it between his hands to warm her up, he was piercingly aware of the fragility of the blood bond, the way it had lost cohesion even compared to yesterday.
“Fight a little longer,” he said, lifting her hand to his lips. “Give Saoirse and Bayani and their team a bit more time. Help the jet and rock nerds make history.” It was a rough attempt at a joke that fell flat, because Dr. Czajka had been clear: Eleri’s readings had been on a steady downgrade since she’d woken for that precious minute.