The Rifts of Psyche by Kyle West (i love reading .txt) 📕

it again. Both slid against a thick stalagmite. Lucian struck it, chest first, and then more lightly with his head.

All went dark . . .

29

“Lucian? Lucian!”

His eyes opened to see Serah above him, illuminated by a floating orb of fire.

“I was about to slap you. We need to get moving.”

“Moving?”

“Did you hit your head or something?”

Lucian touched his forehead, and his fingers came away sticky with blood.

“Rotting hell. Didn’t see that in this light.” She paused a moment. “Stay here. I’ll try to find the others.”

She left her pack behind and bounded off into the darkness. Her floating orb of fire was quickly eaten by the pitch black, leaving him blind.

Lucian faded in and out. He reached for his canteen and could barely hold it steady enough to drink. After he drank, he slept some more.

Sometime later, he was awoken by footsteps and a fiery light. Serah knelt beside him.

“Still out? Doesn’t look good, I’ll say that much. I went to where they landed, and they were nowhere in sight.”

His head seemed clearer now. “Where are they, you think?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I was burning too much ether to keep my fire going, so I headed back.”

“I don’t want you to get lost out there, Serah. We just have to figure out what to do.”

“Well, you knocked your head so you’re going to have to stay put. If the people in that camp noticed us coming down, they would have found us by now. My guess is they were distracted with Fergus and Cleon. It would explain why they’re gone.”

“We need to go after them.”

Serah nodded. “I agree, but we can’t do anything until our ether regenerates. We’ve been overdrawing too much. Besides, you need to sleep that off.”

“We can’t just—”

“If those lights are really from frays, then Fergus and Cleon will be fine. They don’t kill whoever they happen upon, like Burners would.” She paused a moment. “Most of the time.”

Lucian would just have to hope that was true. If anyone knew about how frays behaved in this underworld, it was Serah. “Okay, then.”

“Try to get some rest. I’m going to let the light go.”

He reached out and grabbed her hand. Her eyes widened, as if surprised by the move.

“Sorry,” he said. “I hate the dark.”

She touched his face. “I know. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. Things will be fine. I’m letting the light go out. I’ll make myself sick if I hold it any longer.”

Darkness returned. Lucian hated not being able to see anything. But feeling the warmth of Serah’s hand in the darkness helped him not feel alone. He tried to not think about what predators might be lurking out there, predators that hunted by smell or sound. It wasn’t likely they’d survive the encounter with the Orb of Binding nonresponsive.

Serah didn’t just hold his hand. She lay beside him, her shoulder touching his, the only thing of warmth in this dark, cold place.

“Serah . . . thank you.”

“It’s basic human decency. And you’re all right, for a non-fray. I might even call you friend someday.”

There was a moment of silence. “Takes you a while to trust people, I take it.”

“That’s a given.”

“Same,” Lucian said. “For what it’s worth, though, you’ve saved my hide more than a few times. If that’s not a friend, I don’t know what is.”

She had no response for that. They fell asleep hand-in-hand in the darkness.

Lucian was back in Dara, only this time, he was actually inside the Sorceress-Queen’s high tower. At first, he was confused. He shouldn’t be here.

That was when he remembered that he hadn’t warded himself in a while.

He fought to break away from this dream, but it was already too late. He could see her shadowed form sitting on a crystalline throne. Her dress was long, black, and bedecked with gems reflecting nearby floating sphere light. Despite that light, her form was still shrouded, so he could see nothing other than her shape and a blur where her face should have been. He thought he could discern two eyes, like twin amethysts shining in an inferno.

“We meet again,” she said, her voice sonorous.

Lucian tried to speak, but there was nothing he could say to someone of such majesty, power, and beauty. He felt himself getting sucked in by those violet eyes.

“I need your help, Lucian,” she said, her voice losing its royal edge.

She no longer sounded like a queen, but simply a woman who needed assistance. And he was the only one who could render it. He felt a tugging at his heart, a deep need to make her happy. He listened attentively.

“Things have become most difficult for me. Only you can assist me.”

Lucian swallowed, and by some miracle, found his voice. It took every effort not to say yes immediately. “Why would I do that?”

The Sorceress-Queen frowned, as if not expecting that answer. “We both want the same thing, Lucian. We want the Orbs to be gathered. We want the fraying to end. And it’s only together that we can achieve that aim. You must stop running. The Darkrift is dangerous. Even with the Orb of Binding, you are more likely than not to die.” She gave a moment’s pause. “I don’t say that to scare you, but only to speak sense. Your aim is to keep your Orb far away from me. But you must be reasonable. You will surface at some point, and I will find you. You need me, Lucian, whether you’re willing to admit it or not. Perhaps you do not trust me; that is understandable. But I hope soon to remedy that lack of trust. To show that we are on the same side.”

She at last went quiet, as if to give him an opportunity to ask questions.

“How can I trust you?” he asked. “How do I know you’re not playing with my mind right now? How do I know that you’re not simply going to kill me and take my Orb