Jason put his wooden knife back at his throat. Maybe he’d really do it this time. Maybe he really could deny fate. The pain in his head never fully left, but now it was steadily growing again. The quiet, whispering thoughts were getting louder again. He could almost make them out, but he didn’t want to. The last time he actually listened, he’d convinced himself he’d been set up. For the trouble, he ended up with a wooden knife at his throat.

It was back now. Was he right about being tricked? Was he wrong? Did it matter? Would he let it happen again? None of that really mattered. His only real choice was to listen or not to listen. What more harm could possibly come of it? He could always kill himself afterwards. So he braved the pain and strained to listen to the faint voice. Something was already different. This was clear before he made out any real words. The voice came from a woman.

There were no women in the group he’d heard earlier. This was definitely someone else. He’d probably just stumbled upon the woman who’d freed him. After all, she’d run away too and had to be out here somewhere. He still had no idea what her name was. Or even how he felt about her. Sure, he’d thought about it but hadn’t really come to any decision. He just didn’t know enough to make one. Now was an excellent opportunity to learn more. Slowly the words came together.

“Go . . . mn . . . ! . . . e’s . . . bout . . . kill . . . self again! How . . . fuck do I stop him?!”

She . . . She was watching him, following him. Suddenly he looked around as if he could actually find her in the blackness of night. It was a secondary motion, nearly involuntary, to lower the splintered blade as he did so. Then more thoughts came.

“How the fuck am I supposed to . . . What’s he doing now?”

How was she supposed to do . . . what? What the hell could she be thinking? Why leave him high and dry if she was just going to track him down now? Did she honestly think everything was suddenly going to be O.K.? That he’d just be alright with what she’d done? He was moving beyond fear now. Hunger, pain, weakness and weariness notwithstanding, he was getting angry. In that anger he decided to send the bitch a message.

“What’s that? What’s he doing now? Is he flipping someone off? Who? There’s no one over there. Did a tree piss him off or something? If he’s near suicide he’s got to be losing his mind as well. I’ve got to get down there.”

Jason realized he had no idea where the woman was and moved around in a circle to compensate.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Fuck the world? Well, I agree, but then I’m not mental. How’s he supposed to save the future if he can’t even save himself? Maybe I can protect him from the danger around him, but I can’t protect him from himself. But I’ve waited far too long for this. I’ve got to try.”

Save the future? What the fuck?! He’d had enough. He put his hand down and screamed into the night. “Where the fuck are you?!”

Of course, that was a stupid idea and he got no audible response. New thoughts tore through his mind seconds later, accompanied by agony.

“Shut the fuck up!!! You can’t go drawing attention to . . . Wait! He knows I’m here. You know I’m here . . . somewhere. Don’t you? You’ve been unlocked. Wferium said that. You can hear my thoughts can’t you. I . . . I think you’re far enough away. I don’t think the others heard you. But you’ve got to hide now. And whatever you do, don’t shout again. You know I can see you. Drop your knife to let me know you heard me.”

Only more thoughts crossed his tortured mind. What? Wferium? You knew Wferium? Who the fuck are you? Why are you here? Why are you following me? You’re trying to protect me? Why? What the fuck do I have to do with the future? I can’t save anything! I’m going to die next fall in some stupid field. I . . . I can’t do shit. I can’t even save myself! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT WITH ME!!!

“Why aren’t you dropping your knife? I know you can hear me! Doesn’t matter. Just hide! It doesn’t matter where! Just get away from where you are now! Then lie down and make yourself less visible!”

Jason’s anger got the better of him again. “Why the fuck should I?!”

“Shut up, damn it! Shut up and hide! Drop your damn knife or don’t drop it! I don’t care! Just get the fuck out of there! How can I protect you if you scream for death?!”

Then Jason screamed “I don’t have a god damned knife! And I can’t fucking die! It’s not fucking time yet! Wrong time, wrong place! Where the fuck are you?!”

Meraine remained silent, but thought “What?! What the fuck do you mean you can’t die?! If anyone other than me hears you, they’ll change your mind about that real fucking fast!”

“I damn well hope they do! Do you know what it’s like to see your own death?! I don’t fucking want to know what I know!”

“So you saw something! You had a foresight. Wferium has those every day. It doesn’t mean so much. Things can always change. But then you already know that or you wouldn’t have tried to kill yourself! And if you keep on shouting you’ll find there’s more ways to die than just whatever you saw and from whatever you’re holding!”

“I don’t fucking care! Don’t you get that?! And god damn! Stop screaming your thoughts! My head is splitting open!”

“Damn. Sorry. I didn’t realize. Just hide. O.K. Please.”

“Where the fuck are you?! No one’s coming! I need to know where you are!”

“You can’t know that no one’s coming.”

“I don’t fucking see anyone! O.K.!”

“Well, you’re not wearing any binoculars. You probably can’t see the hand in front of your face.”

Jason wasn’t stupid. He knew she was talking about night vision. But she was right. He really couldn’t see shit. “Fine! Whatever! You can obviously see me! Do you see anyone?!”

“I’d have already told you if I had, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t hear you. That doesn’t mean they’re not coming or already on the way. Just hide. Please. Don’t worry about finding me. I’ll find you.”

“God damn it! Fine! Where do I hide?!”

“Don’t announce it! Oh, shit. Sorry. That probably hurt. Who knows what they can or can’t hear. I’ll guide you the best I can, but you’ve got to stop talking until I can reach you. Raise whatever you’ve got in your hand if you understand.

It took Jason a few seconds to decide. Even then, he made a half assed effort, as if he would change his mind. The woman was getting frustrated. He could hear it in every thought.

“Fine. Whatever. I guess that will do. Now you probably don’t know directions right now. I’m guessing you’re totally lost. Just follow the moon for a few minutes and then lie down.”

He’d be insulted at the accusation of being lost if it hadn’t been completely true. He’d only gotten as far as he had by following a path, but as night fell that required more touch than sight. Though deepening, the path had been traveled and was easier to walk. His feet could tell the difference when he veered away, which happened often. He adjusted and remained on course to wherever the path led, guided only by the varying depths of the snow. He didn’t know if he needed her help or even if she could be trusted, but a part of him begrudgingly admitted he was grateful for it. He finally did as she’d asked him, but suddenly realized he still didn’t know who she was. He wanted to scream “Who the fuck are you?!”, but thought better of it. He had a feeling she wasn’t the same woman who’d freed him. He didn’t know why or how he felt this. It was strange. It seemed like much more than a guess, but how could it have been anything else?

Meraine noticed the boy’s walk was slow and beleaguered, as if he might not make it or wouldn’t be able to get back up once he’d lain down. She had to get down there to him, but now wasn’t the time. Tamerlane could be on his way. It helped nothing to be caught together. Regardless of their conversation, she had yet to make a sound. The idiot wouldn’t be able to find her in this frozen hell. She knew the boy had heard this and was wondering who Tamerlane was. She just hoped he didn’t actually ask until she was near. She told him as much.

“I’ll explain everything later. Just hide and stay there. I’m staying where I am as your lookout. I have the higher ground. I’ll let you know if anyone comes. It’ll take at least half an hour before I can be sure. I know you’re hurting, tired and hungry. Try not to worry. Think of this as a long overdue break.”

Time passed slowly, but try as she might, Meraine wasn’t used to repressing her thoughts. Sure, Wferium could always hear her thoughts, but that wasn’t really the same. That felt more like confessing to a priest. It was liberating more than anything else. Of course, Aryl could hear thoughts too, but Wferium had guaranteed her she didn’t care most of the time. This time she had to make sure she didn’t even think the wrong things.

“You heard all that didn’t you? Sorry. All I’m doing is filling your mind with more questions. I am sorry about that. I’m . . . I’m Meraine, by the way. Meraine Talbotte. It’s kind of awkward introducing myself this way. You know it’s not easy for humatrans to adapt to the ancient line. Oh fuck. Sorry. Wferium told me that your father hadn’t told you much of anything. And I talk like it’s all so obvious. I suppose, well, it is to me. But I’m sure you know lots of things I don’t know.”

Meraine looked around and saw nothing.

“You’re far more important than you think you are. But I won’t get into that just yet. The coast is clear. I guess you were right this time. I still call it luck, though. I’m coming down now. I’ll be there soon. We’re going to have to go when I get down there. We can talk on the way. Go ahead and stand up.”

He didn’t. Nothing unusual. He was defiant.

“You probably want to sleep until you die. I can’t say I blame you, but you’ve got too much to do. You’ve got to get up.”

Still he didn’t. She was starting to get worried. The least she expected was for him to tell her to go to hell. But he said nothing.

“At least raise your hand to let me know you’re alright.”

Nothing happened.

“Hold on. I’m on my way. I don‘t know what the fuck you saw, but you‘re not dying here and not like this. Not when I‘m so close.”

<><><><>

Jason didn’t know how, but the snow was gone. All he did was lie down and close his eyes for a moment. Acres upon acres of grass lay out before him. Both fear and confusion battled for control of his mind. In the end, they chose to call a truce. He wished they hadn’t.

His only comfort was he couldn’t see any damned fields of corn or wheat, but he heard a rustling in the wind behind him. He heard the familiar zap of blackened crop on the electric fence. He didn’t want to turn around, but he had to be sure. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t do it. His head wouldn’t turn away from the light on the distant hill. It beckoned him, but it was so much more than that.

He literally couldn’t turn his head. Not anymore. The farmhouse existed only in his peripheral vision and barely at that. Soon it too faded. He had a deepening fear of it. Not the light. He wanted to fear the light, but he couldn’t. The light was a desirable thing, though he didn’t know exactly why. He needed to know. That is, the part of him that he couldn’t control needed to know, but how could that part not already know? He knew so very little, himself. What was left of him loathed to know, but that part was fading.

No. What he feared was that he no longer had a body. That he’d died and left it back at the damned fence. That he was little more than a spirit and what was left of his conscious mind was simply the vestiges of his earthly wake. It seemed like it was shedding him off from the mortal coil, eager to be free . . . truly and completely free.

It was working. He was losing this battle, which in the beginning only took control of all things physical. Now, it went beyond that. It was taking over his very mind. He was moving forward. The rustling, zapping sounds were fading along with what was left of him. He couldn’t tell if he was walking or floating. The worst of it . . . he was starting not to care.

<><><><>

The searing agony called life jolted him awake; that and the cold suffocating snow. He struggled for breath and what little he got tasted of blood and shredded lungs. He imagined he’d fallen asleep, but face first, as if sleep took him before the ground could. He just didn’t remember. But he did remember the dream and for the life of him, couldn’t tell whether that death was better than this life. Part of him wanted to go back; a big part. He didn’t know whether that part was actually himself or just the shadow of what he once was. It didn’t matter. He’d lost all choice in the matter.

Someone was shaking him. There was a gentle roughness to it, as if the person meant well, but did what was necessary to gain a desired result. He supposed that would’ve been to wake him, but he wasn’t sure if that was even right. Whatever happened felt so much deeper than sleep. He knew it had to be a vision, or what was that called, a foresight? Still, it must’ve ended on its own. It felt like no earthly power could’ve broken that trance. That didn’t make any sense either. How could it? Just as before, the vision was incomplete. How could it have ended on its own? Was it meant to be seen in pieces? Was this some stupid T.V. episode cliffhanger shit? How could it be? If nothing else, nothing else at all, this felt more real than his meager existence.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Blinking back the pain, Jason looked up at the blackened silhouette of an unfamiliar face, knowing instantly this wasn’t the woman who’d freed him and left him earlier. He didn’t understand exactly how he could know such a thing. What could’ve happened to the other woman, he momentarily wondered. Where could she have gone? He hadn’t had any place to go. He was just wandering and waiting to be found. But then he supposed she knew these woods much better than he ever would.

Evidence of that was right in front of him. This woman, whoever she was, she said, he meant thought. She had yet to speak a single word to him. Not that he’d seen any part of her. Much less her lips, but somehow he could tell the difference. Anyway, she thought she was here to protect him and had accused him of being lost. She didn’t know the half of it! He was missing his whole fucking body in a place where it never snowed! At least not for him, anyway. He really didn’t think that was something she could help him find.

Of course, she hadn’t meant that at all. How could she? She didn’t even know about all that. No. She wanted to help . . . guide him, he supposed. You know, since he was so damned lost. Protect him, but guide him, too. A sudden anger was rising. Well, maybe she could help guide him back to where she and her people had kidnapped him! Maybe she could help him find out what she and her friends had done to Wferium! Maybe she could help protect him . . . from herself! He wouldn’t fucking be here if it wasn’t for her and her fucking people! Unable to control it any longer the anger formed into words.

“I . . . I’m not . . .” He’d meant to scream that he wasn’t lost and other not so nice things, but his face was frozen and his throat burning with chunks of snow and ice. Some had melted from the warmth of it, but much of it was still clogging his esophagus and chocking the life out of him. What came out, instead of more spiteful things, was a sudden grinding cough, raspy, powerful and full of bloody pain. It’s as if he were trying to regurgitate a snowball with shards of ice jutting from it.

It wasn’t just the one cough either. The first, which was probably inevitable, had kick started a whole damned hoard of them. He had involuntarily doubled over into the fetal position as they were forced, loudly from his body. He’d rather suddenly, lost all interest in the woman standing over him, but he’d wanted something to grab on to, as if maintaining balance was of vital importance when lying on the ground. Whatever. His body seemed to need it more than he actually did. His left hand grabbed her upper right arm as she held his shoulder, though shaking him far less now that he was able to manage that part all by himself.

She let him do it, as if he gave a damn what she would allow, even though the sputtering pain coursing through him caused his fingers to constrict far more tightly than was normal. There wasn’t any two ways about it. She was going to bruise. Maybe his body would allow him to do far more than that before this was all over. For now he was a little distracted.

Whether it was really there or not, Jason could feel the warmth of his own blood coming up. It was the distinctive taste that he remembered most. The calmer part of him, if there really was one, wondered why it was just blood he tasted? Wasn’t he busy coughing up a lung or something else vitally important? How the fuck was this woman going to protect him from that? Huh? What? Force it back down his throat after it lay bloody and mulched in the reddening snow? Wouldn’t that be fun? At least it’d be par for the course, though. That’s just about how good her “protection” had been this whole time.

She was saying something. He thought maybe she was thinking it, but no, these sounded like real words uttered from an actual voice box. Not the fake ones that were still bouncing around inside her head and his. It didn’t matter if they were real or fake. They hurt! It felt like the ice had gotten into his brain and freezer burned it. So, he spoke his own words, but he was nearly hyperventilating and sputtering them out like an engine that just wouldn’t start. Maybe the cold had something to do with it too. It sounded like he was freezing from the inside out. Felt like it too.

“Sh . . . Sh . . . SH . . . SHuT . . . ShUT . . . ShUt . . .” Then it suddenly came out as if thrown up, maybe regurgitated. “SHUT UP!!!”

She did. Suddenly she did. He didn’t even know if she’d actually been shouting next to his ear, but her thoughts must’ve been. Because all he could hear her say or think or both right now was how sorry she was. How she was worried and had forgotten how badly his head hurt. He didn’t know how he’d managed to make that out through his still throbbing brain. A knife wound doesn’t suddenly heal once the blade slips out. It felt like her screaming had a powerful echo. At least his coughing had subsided a little. There was no lung in the snow. Not yet. It didn’t seem like there would be one anymore, but that was little consolation. The pain hadn’t gone anywhere, nor had the cold. They’d fucking married one another and chosen his body as the best possible resort for their extended honeymoon. It wasn’t often the two got to party like this outside the youthing process. What a god damned special fucking occasion he must be!

Then he heard bits and pieces of, “Sorry . . . You need this . . . Feel better.”

Afterwards he felt the prick of a needle. He hadn’t really needed more pain. He squeezed her arm all the tighter. She seemed alright with it. She seemed fucking used to it. He wondered just how fucked up she must be. Wasn’t it the masochists that loved pain? Wasn’t it the masochists that insanely thought the youthing process was fun? That must’ve been the category this bitch fell into. Maybe he should squeeze even harder. She’d like it.

Then came the second shot! He hadn’t seen that one coming, but he damn well felt it! Was she fucking done yet? Was there going to be a third? Was this fun too? What was that called? Sadism? Sadism and masochism? Right? S&M? Bondage, leather, whips, high heels, nipple clamps, hot dripping candle wax, the fucking works? Right? Well, God damn! She must be so disappointed she’d left all her toys at home! That’s fucking O.K.! At least she still knew how to have fun! At least she still knew how to impro, fucking, vise!

There was no third shot, but he wouldn’t have felt it if there had been. The pain was going away, but then so was everything else. It wasn’t getting blurry or distorted. He wasn’t fucking high. Everything was just starting to fade. Fade to black. Was this how dying felt? Was this how . . .

<><><><>

Meraine hadn’t known what to do. Well, she did. But not exactly. She was no nurse. These were basic things to ease the pain. They were things many had on hand for the aftershocks of youthing. The side effect of near instant drowsiness was altogether intentional. He was hurting her. In his condition, she was sure it wasn’t intentional, but that knowledge didn’t really help the pain.

She was used to it though. The youthing felt worse. It spanned every inch of her body, all at the same time and lasted for hours at a time. It was a miracle anyone survived it. Actually, a whole lot of people didn’t. Survival of the fittest, she supposed. Of course, some cheated. Some took pain killers, like the kind she’d just given the boy, right before murdering someone. Well, goody for them. From what she could see, the youthing didn’t much tolerate it.

It was a deep, primal pain that almost always rejected the effects of drugs. No one knew why. It was hardly noticeable when it did help and that was with dangerously high doses that could kill all on their own. Hell, if it actually worked everyone would’ve been doing it all the time and the screams echoing through all the cities of the world would’ve stopped. One of the many reasons she didn’t much like populated areas. Most people had learned to sleep through it. She wasn’t one of those people.

Still, the boy, Jason. He wasn’t suffering the youthing. It was something else entirely. Aside from the cold and everything else, it seemed to be something more. It seemed to be some sort of adjusting period, punctuated by symptoms of withdrawal. It must’ve been. Through her decades of extensive research she’d read the unlocking was a rebirth to a new reality. The birthing pains of it must’ve been horrific. She wondered if this was what all who were of the ancient lines felt when first unlocked.

She doubted it. She’d seen it before once or twice and it was never this bad. Yet that was with repeated generations and lower birthing orders. Many of which had been diluted with normal humatran blood time and time and time again. It hurt them, too. She supposed the unlocking always hurts, but it was hard to tell. The pain she’d witnessed from these diminished lines resembled something like the flu. It was hard to distinguish the two as far as symptoms were concerned, but actual illness was rare so something else must’ve been going on.

Perhaps, because the boy was a firstborn of an original ancient everything surrounding the unlocking was worse . . . much, much worse. The unlocking was also primal. She really had no idea at all if the pain killers she’d given would do anything. She’d struggled with whether or not to use them. They were in short supply. She wondered if it would’ve been a complete and utter waste, but it looked like Jason was actually dying. Firstborn or not, who suffers the unlocking after a sound beating and on the run in the coldest months of winter? She decided she had to try.

They seemed to be working. She couldn’t tell. They were either working or she’d just killed the future. The thought was too torturous to consider, but she’d find out soon enough. If he was dead . . . if she’d just murdered him, she’d soon feel the pain of it. Why? Because death was a living, breathing thing that knew who’d done what and gave no leeway for accidents. Many people died of DOE from manslaughter. Was it an accident? Sure. Did death give a damn? No. Not really.

Of course, she wouldn’t DOE from the boy. He was too young. That didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt and this wasn’t exactly the safest place to suffer the youthing. If she wasn’t found by Tamerlane then the cold could kill her. Even if it didn’t, it would leave her somewhere under EA10, which was a very dangerous age. Of course, her clothes wouldn’t fit. Many people didn’t consider that. Sometimes whole new wardrobes had to be bought for the new age. She knew her thoughts were rambling, but her panic didn’t allow for much of anything else.

Jason wasn’t dying. He couldn’t be, because she felt nothing. Well, she felt miserable. She’d been running, wandering and waiting in the cold for hours on end. That was plenty long enough for the cold to have seeped into her bones, but that was different. She felt no youthing pains. Regardless, the coming of night and the clear skies certainly didn’t help. For all this, Meraine was prepared. She’d had the time and wherewithal to do just that, but Jason . . . didn’t.

He wasn’t naked, but with all he was suffering through, he might as well have been. She supposed he was still wearing what he’d had on when Wferium found him, but while suffering her own extended youthing, he’d been beaten. This had first affected his clothes which were ripped, torn and extremely bloody. All that blood couldn’t have been his. He would’ve had to have lost an arm or a leg to justify it all. Now that she was next to him it looked like he’d sat in a vat of blood and that was just what she could discern through the moonlight.

Meraine possessed an innate curiosity that had both inspired and fueled her tedious, endless and largely unproductive research into, well, Jason. It was that same part of her which wanted to know just what happened to him. The other part of her wasn’t so damned obsessive. The sane part told her to forget about it and for shit sake, do not ask. No good could come of it for either of them. Of course, it probably wouldn’t be all so simple. He could hear her thoughts and she’d be thinking about it each and every time she looked at him.

There was already no other choice, but to get him out of the cold. Where to, though? She knew these woods best before the bridge. What came after was vague. How could someone who was lost help someone else who was lost? She couldn’t know, except to keep putting one foot in front of the other. The forest must come to an end eventually.

Reaching it was impossible with Jason unconscious. She couldn’t even guarantee he’d be able to walk when he woke up again. He’d been through so much and was at the end of what his tortured body would allow. He needed rest and would get it, no matter how inconvenient. Tamerlane was waiting for someone or something, but could easily see Jason’s tracks. They weren’t hard to follow. Tamerlane wasn’t a terribly patient man. He could continue his hunt at any time. There was little doubt he soon would.

He could return to camp. He could say he was tired, hungry and cold, but whoever was in charge now probably wasn’t terribly forgiving. That was probably Aryl Czar. Meraine didn’t know too much about her. She stayed mostly to herself. She was pretty damned old, though. She was probably of an ancient line, but Meraine couldn’t be sure. She had a quiet strength about her that was probably enough to trump Tamerlane’s bid for the camp.

Though, the thing of it was . . . Tamerlane may not think so. His enormously large ego usually got in the way of things glaringly obvious to everyone else. It was likely he was busy staging a coup in his mind. It was also likely he thought his plan, whatever it was, would work. That meant Tamerlane was, for once in his life, unpredictable. He may come after them and he may not. After all, Jason was important to Wferium. Why should Tamerlane even care? He wasn’t even chasing him. He was chasing her and the overblown idiot had lost her.

Either way they had some time, which was both rare and precious. That meant Jason could rest, but he needed to avoid freezing to death while doing so. This wasn’t exactly the best place to take a nap. That was her fault, she knew, but there was little else for it. So, as penance, she removed her outer coat and laid it over the boy. It would help. She’d take it back when she could no longer stand the cold.

A fire would’ve been nice, but was out of the question. The smoke would’ve given them away. However, modern times had modern solutions. Meraine pulled out a small non-assuming white ball from her backpack. It was about the size of a golf ball, but did something much different. She pushed a nearly invisible button to set the ball to hover. Before she let it do that, Meraine twisted a tiny dial to set the height of the hover to a mere three feet. Then she let it go after positioning it directly above Jason’s waist. From there she pushed another hidden button and from dozens of tiny emitters a hologram formed. It was a hunting device designed for stealth. This one was built for landscapes. Back in her tent, she’d programmed it to mimic a pile of snow.

It surrounded Jason and herself, as she snuggled in next to him. She took care to make sure they were completely within the diameter of the stealth dome, finger and toes included. Of course, it was still bitterly cold, but that would soon change. A steady and near silent stream of air kept the tiny device afloat and the temperature could be regulated with a thermostat. Warm air was blowing out of it now and in time would fill cramped quarters of the hologram and remain contained within it. The whole thing was basically an insulated, camouflaged tent, both compact and easy to transport.

It wasn’t foolproof. Their tracks remained, leading any who chose to follow straight to them, but the stealth tent would hide them for a bit longer and those extra few minutes could easily make all the difference when it came to planned counterattack. There was also the melted snow in their direct vicinity, but she’d taken the liberty to lay down a tarp and covered the ends outside the dome in snow. With any luck, they wouldn’t wake up soaked, which was a very real danger during the long winter months. The darkness also helped as natural camouflage.

The stealth tent was no five star hotel, but all in all, it was luxurious comfort compared to the frozen hell mere inches from where they laid. Meraine was fairly certain the tiny device had prevented their untimely deaths, or at least Jason’s. The liquid fusion battery pack was self-sustaining. For every minute used, nearly 20 seconds were recovered. When fully charged, it had a life span for constant usage of 170 hours, which was two hours over an entire week. The 20 second renewal granted an additional 56 hours of continual use, but the renewal process took time. The 20 seconds were gained after every two or three minutes, so there was an expected lag time which stunted the effects temporarily over the course of the final 20 hours or so.

Meraine wasn’t worried. That was for constant use only. When in standby mode the self-renewal process would gradually recharge the battery to full and then shut down. This feature was designed for months long extended hunts or just for people like herself who lived outside in constant flux. It was an extremely handy little thing to have and hadn’t come cheap, but was well worth the cost.

She planned to keep watch until Jason woke and was ready to travel. Egomaniacal moron aside, Tamerlane was nothing if not persistent. She planned to protect Jason. She planned to protect the future. That didn’t happen. Meraine was literally exhausted. Sure, Jason had been through hell and back and probably wasn’t close to being done with it all, but he wasn’t the only one who had. Stress can take a very real, physical toll on the body. Even when in camp, her sleep was restless, as recent events gave birth to constant threat. So, good intentions or not, Meraine was asleep as soon as the temperature within the dome stabilized.

Naturally she woke herself up moments later, but then fell back asleep within minutes. Then she shook herself awake again. She knew what was happening, but felt powerless to prevent it. Sleep claimed her a few minutes later. The next time she woke ten minutes had passed. She was struggling to stay awake, wanting so eagerly to sleep, finally sleep. So much so, that she convinced herself Tamerlane wouldn’t come after them; that he had better things to do and was too damned cold to bother.

Then she fell asleep again and the next time she woke, a whole half hour had passed. Jason was still sound asleep and all she could hear was the never ending wind. She knew because she paid attention, or at least she thought she had, but soon found she was only dreaming about paying attention. Of course, she only knew this an hour later when she’d woken again. Her time awake diminished as her time asleep extended. Her only recourse would be to roll back out into the freezing cold, but that just didn’t seem possible any longer.

Finally, sleep took her for good and the next time she woke it was daytime. Jason was still asleep, but they both had unexpected company.