{Gait}

“Peh Peh, you’re doing wonderfully with the Icarean General.” Razor leaned against the Divine Booth, waiting for her to emerge.

Pehton learned nothing more from this journey into her memory than any other visit. The children crossed Mercy Row with her. The light of Inanis emitted from the prison and expanded over the planet. It washed them away in a blinding white emptiness. Erased them. When the light faded, only the surrounding adults remained. All of them poured tears from their burning eyes. And then from their broken hearts.

Where did the children go?

Razor’s rich melodic voice cut through her thoughts, “I hate watching you do this to yourself.” He reached out and brushed a tear from her cheek.

Pehton jerked back on instinct. Too soon after the immersive experience. Her heart was too raw.

Shit.

He froze into a statue with ice hardening his brown eyes.

Rejecting the bastard did her no favors. The Lyrik shifted gears and pouted her lips. She leaned against the doorway, appearing smaller and more vulnerable, she offered, “I wish there was some way to change your mind.”

Razor rested his elbow high on the booth and leaned forward. He raised an unconvinced, yet curious brow.

“Never say never.” Pehton referred, of course, to their earlier exchange when he assured her he’d never want sex from her. Fat chance. But humiliating herself should boost his ego back to its normal over-inflation.

The Pain Curator shook his head and walked away. Over his shoulder, he called, “Keep up your half of the bargain, Peh Peh.”

At the use of his pet name for her, the Executive Warden of Gait sagged with relief. Forgiven. Wow. And to think, she normally resented the familiarity.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Razor waved his dismissal as he walked toward the kitchens.

Reduced to groveling. Pehton almost spat.

To wash the foul taste from her mouth, she took the lift down to Infernus block. Korac’s company breathed fresh air into her life, stagnant with filth and vice. The only drawback—

Ahh, he sat innocently in his cell this time. Another relief.

“Executive Warden.” He nodded to her from where he laid on the bed, reading.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Many things could certainly be said for the General, but her favorite among them was the respect he paid to titles. Better than Razor ever managed.

“Something on your mind?” Korac sounded more curious than concerned.

“I’m not sure how we get you there, but we’ll need to wait until Razor’s out of the Emporium. Unfortunately, he doesn’t maintain a consistent schedule, so no one can learn his habits. Do you think Sagan can find a window for us?”

Pehton sat on the floor with her back leaning against the wall opposite his cell. She crossed her ankles to keep him from looking up her armor’s short skirt. Her head thudded against the cold metal behind her.

Korac stood to his agreeable height. She honestly meant to thank Sagan for the wardrobe. Pehton much preferred objectifying him when he dressed for the ogling. Red leather pants. Black muscle shirt, well filled out. Yup. Delectable to look at.

The Lyrik must have released a sigh she meant to keep to herself because the Icarus’ lips twitched ever so slightly into a knowing smirk.

The devil looked good, and she no longer cared if he knew.

“Karter is guarding the King Regent. And Para is guarding the King proper. We’re missing a lot of action back on the Two Worlds, you and I.” He rested his arms on the wall above his nacre-deterring barrier and leaned against them. “They’re not readily available. But I have a Plan B. Are you familiar with Kyle’s abilities?”

She arched a brow. “Story Taker? We can see our memories, so how can he help?”

“He might combine them and allow us to see each other’s. We’ll gain more pieces to the puzzle.” He crooked his neck to the left. Then to the right.

Pehton almost felt the relief in her own shoulders when Korac’s neck popped loud enough to reach her in the hall. His suggestion bothered her. What if they learned her secret? Could she trust them?

“I’ll go first,” Korac offered as if he sensed her reticence.

She almost smiled. Elden, dammit! She didn’t want to like him so much. Any of them, really. “I’ll consider it.” After another moment, she asked softly, “What do you think caused Inanis and why?”

He straightened and paced calmly in front of the barrier as he considered her question. Reasonably, he confessed, “It feels… familiar to me.”

Pehton perked up to that and sat forward. Afraid to break his flow, she kept quiet.

“I don’t believe it’s atmospheric or some light phenomenon. In each instance in which I experienced it, I sensed a heartbeat at its center.”

She recoiled. Inanis was a person?

He stopped pacing and continued with his reflection, “Alive. Like someone letting out their breath. Or flexing a muscle. And I want to say that I recognize it. But that’s not the right word. I know it. Like they were with me at the time…”

Pehton tried the idea on for size. Inanis. A person. A person able to bleed and die. Oh, she liked this idea the more she thought on it. Strangling the person who took everything from her—

“Who’s in the cell beneath us, Executive Warden?”

Peering back up, Korac watched her reaction through the barrier like a hawk. He searched and scanned for any response that might give the secret away.

The Lyrik shook her head. “I can’t tell you. Confidentiality and all that.” She stood and stretched. Time to go. “Thanks for the insight and the information on your friend. I’ll let Kyle take a story or two from me to stop Inanis.”

“I find the Progeny trustworthy. Mostly,” Korac added for extra assurance.

“I’ll return, General.” Pehton mock-saluted him before the lift carried her to the bottom level. Stepping the few feet into the darkness, the sound of her boots on the metal echoed.

She recalled the description Tumu gave her of the prisoner. “So deadly, he isn’t allowed space. So clever, he isn’t permitted interaction. So evil, he isn’t granted light.”

Into the shimmering light of a nacre-deterring field that blanketed the floor… into the cold… into the nothing… Pehton whispered, “Who are you?”

No one answered.