Page Turners - Chapter 16 [Page 35] - What Happened?

Charlize sat cross-legged on the sofa, her posture relaxed as the ball raced along the rail connecting the towering pillars of the Grid. The top half of the ball was clear but for the screen, so Rubes had thoughtfully opened the screen for Tilla, allowing her to see the world outside.

Tilla’s face was pressed against the smooth clear dome—as clear and firm as glass, but much softer to the touch—as she watched the pillars blur past. Charlize observed her with a faint smile, thinking how childlike Tilla still seemed. Her amusement deepened when she glanced at Od, who was doing the same thing, his tongue pressed against the dome like an excited dog. It’s a shame he didn’t grow up a little as well when we turned the Page, she thought dryly.

Od, feeling her gaze, quickly straightened his collar and cap, turning to her with a serious look. “I didn’t want to say anything—you scare me a little sometimes—but I’ve got to know. What happened back with the Quillia? You were almost like a different person. And your Creation…”

“A Quillia?!” Nel and Rubes shouted from above, their booming voices reverberating through the ball.

“It was nothing. Relax,” Charlize replied. “You want to know how I killed that pathetic worm?”

“Hey, be careful!” Tilla snapped, turning to face her. Her curiosity burned as bright as Od’s. “You can’t slander the Quillia. Isn’t that against the Contract?”

“That’s specific to each Page. I thought you knew that already,” Charlize said, her tone dismissive.

“Well, you haven’t exactly been forthcoming about these things.”

Charlize avoided her gaze, guilt flickering across her face. Tilla was right, and she knew it.

“So? You went completely savage!” Od pressed, his voice rising with excitement. “And you deleted him like he was nothing. Then afterward…”

Charlize leaned forward, her expression shifting to that of a seasoned teacher preparing to impart wisdom.

“Fighting a Quillia on even footing without a Creation is practically impossible. No matter how much access you have, they’ll always have more. Skill and mastery can close the gap somewhat, but a large enough disparity in access is insurmountable. Fortunately, Creations are their one blind spot. By looking at you, they can recall the last thousand years of your memories. For most people, that means they know you intimately the moment they see you. But they can’t see Creations. They can’t tell if you own one, and if it appears in your memories, it’s invisible to them. Even if they see one in person, they retain the memory for only three minutes. Theories suggest it’s a conflict between Creations and the Authors’ power, but no one knows for sure. In my case, they know I have a Creation, but they have no idea what it does.”

“Couldn’t they just buy that information from someone else who’d seen it?” Tilla asked, her curiosity piqued. Od nodded, agreeing with the question.

“Not if everyone who’s seen it is already dead.” Charlize’s voice turned icy as she locked eyes with them. “Or if they’re a trusted ally.”

“So you gambled on him not knowing your Creation’s ability? But if he knew you had one and that you’ve killed Quillia before, wouldn’t he already assume it was dangerous?” Od asked, leaning closer.

Charlize laughed coldly—the same laugh she had used against the Quillia. “Arrogance. It’s the one trait every Quillia has in abundance. It’s the only thing that made my gamble viable. He probably thought the other Quillia I killed were weaklings compared to him. Plus, my low access only added to his confidence. The real challenge was getting him close enough to use Hope in Hell. As you saw, I was no match for his Seam work. The chances of my plan working were less than 1%. In fact, I can hardly believe it worked. But the chances of us turning the Page in time without defeating the Quilla were zero. The decision was already made for us. I simply prioritized and executed.”

“Your rationale makes sense, but damn—that was one hell of a gamble. So the taunting was just an act to get him to fight you bare-handed? I know they’ve got fragile egos, but would they really throw away their advantage like that?” Od asked.

Charlize scoffed. “At over 40% access, it’s easy to coat your body in Seam and become superhuman. He would have torn me apart—quite literally. A fair fight was never an option.”

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“Why did you name your Creation Hope in Hell?” Tilla blurted out. It was clear she’d been holding back the question for some time.

“I didn’t name it. Creations tell you their names. When you obtain one, it feels like recalling a forgotten memory—like you’ve always known what it’s called.”

“What does it do?” Od followed up eagerly.

“I’ll explain what you saw, nothing more. The shadow created by the panels is fixed, irrespective of light source, and it's invisible. Inside its zone, the heat is so intense that I’ve never found anything capable of measuring it. I've yet to find anything it can't burn. The heat also energizes the zone, forcing everything within it to accelerate.”

“That’s why it looked like he was just deleted. The intense heat burned him to less than ash in an instant. And that instant was sped up… so it was actually faster than an instant? Wait, am I confusing myself?” Od rambled.

“You have the gist of it,” Charlize said curtly.

“Would it work on an Author?” Tilla asked, her tone serious.

“I don’t know. I wish it would. But a plot like that would never work on them. At the end of the day, Quillia are just humes—albeit ones who traded freedom for power. But Authors… they’re beyond us. To them, we’re completely insignificant.”

“Have you ever met one? An Author, I mean,” Od asked.

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tilla demanded.

“How would I know unless they introduced themselves as such? Maybe I’ve worked for one. Maybe one was a client. Maybe one of you is an Author in disguise.”

The air shifted. Suspicion clouded their minds as Tilla and Od began scrutinizing each other—and Charlize.

“What if you’re one?” Tilla accused.

“Exactly. You don’t know what you don’t know. But it doesn’t bear thinking about. Enough of past events—we need to focus on the future,” Charlize said, firmly steering the conversation in a new direction.

The ball rumbled along the rail, occasionally pausing inside a pillar. Each time, it locked into place briefly before sliding aside to let other balls pass, then returning to the track. Like a mechanical blood vessel, it coursed through the stone-metal veins of the Grid.

“So, we meet my guy, get your fingers sorted. Then we meet your contacts and we’re on our way?” Od asked.

“That sounds good. Quick, clean, and problem-free. Seems unlikely,” Charlize said, her pessimism unhidden.

“Am I missing something? What could go wrong?”

“I can’t even begin to answer that, Od. You should know me well enough by now to realize I’ve already thought of a thousand ways this could go wrong. Your excitement over me taking out a Quillia seems to have made you forget why he was after us in the first place.”

“Oh, yeah. They wanted the bag,” Od muttered, dropping his head.

“And he saw the girl. Saw that something was off about her.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Tilla snapped.

“Hey, language.” Od tried to reprimand, though his voice was still deflated.

“You know what it means. The girl from Page 5 who doesn’t remember her name or family? You think we’re buying that?” Charlize’s eyes locked onto Tilla’s, her accusatory glare unrelenting. Od shifted in his seat, visibly uncomfortable.

“Do you have something you want to ask me, Charlize?” Tilla asked in a stern tone eerily similar to Charlize’s own.

“I have many. But how many are you willing to answer?” Charlize countered, matching her energy.

“Fuck you. Why don’t you answer our questions, huh? Instead of interrogating a little girl, maybe you should tell us why you crumpled into a puddle of tears after your fight with the Quillia!” Tilla rose to her feet as she shouted, her final words shaking the tension in the room.

“Tilla!” Od protested.

“It’s fine.” Charlize’s tone was calm but sharp. “She has questions, as do I. Be aware, Tilla, that secrets come with a price. They breed mistrust and suspicion, creating barriers between you and those around you. I’ve spent a long time learning to bear that weight—I’m accustomed to it. Are you?”

Tilla held Charlize’s gaze until, with a sigh, she turned back to the window. The ball’s upper compartment opened, revealing Nel and Rubes strapped to their seats, dangling upside down.

“We didn’t want to interrupt, but we thought you should know—we’re only a couple of days from the Cube,” Nel said.

“Thank you. Sorry about the drama,” Charlize replied in her usual stoic tone.

“No problem! Honestly, we don’t get enough drama around here,” Rubes chuckled.

“Speaking of drama,” Nel added, “we heard you’re not the only ones to come from 34 recently. Those knuckleheads from the 34 Skins showed up—way ahead of schedule if our dates are right. Thought you might want to know. Not sure if it’s anything to do with you guys.”

Charlize shot Od a knowing look that screamed, ‘I know this is your fault somehow’. “Thanks for the information. I have a feeling it has everything to do with us.”