Hanna lay in the dark, waiting for the deep silence of night to fold itself over the hospital. She had decided to take the meds—her original meds—so that she could stay longer. She had to figure out what all of this meant. She had to find Candace. More than that, she needed to figure out what happened to Cris. He hadn’t been seen since that day he switched trays with her, and she needed to know what they did to him. She worried there had been retaliation. She was also sure it was more than a coincidence that the moment Anderson started talking to her they said he could be released shortly. So many things didn’t make sense. She forced her eyelids open when she realized they’d drifted shut. She had to fight the sleepiness the medication usually gave her.
When she was sure it was deep enough in the night, Hanna used the facilities and then crept to her door, her adrenaline making her feel alert and less tired. She found her door unlocked and smiled in the dark. Carefully, she cracked open the door, expecting the hall lights to come streaming into her room, but she was greeted darkness, the doors and hall beyond barely discernible. She started to silently slide out when she froze. Something small in the darkness was moving. It was retreating down the hall towards the labs and intake rooms. It froze at the end of the corridor, then slowly moved to the right hall, disappearing. Without even thinking, Hanna slid her door closed behind her and moved as fast as she could while maintaining silence, pursuing the dark form.
The left hall had the elevators, Hanna recalled. Those were voice and..was it biometric locked? She strained and recalled Aema using her fingerprint. But what if there was an implant or something and it wasn’t necessarily a fingerprint? She shook her head, coming to the T-corridor. The left hall was pitch black, but she could slightly make out a figure rounding the curve of the right hall, and so she pursued.
It was a labyrinth of turns and curves before another hard right and three doors down, the dark figure moved into a room, closing the door silently behind it. Hanna paused outside of the door, took a deep breath, and began to slowly turn the knob. A slight screech in the metal seemed like aloud alarm to her and she froze, counting in her mind to ten before she relaxed and loosed her breath.
Hanna finished turning the knob and pushed the door open carefully. There was a dim desk lamp on and she quickly shut the door behind her. She saw nobody. It was a small room, a desk against the wall with the hall door, no windows, a few cabinets, a door on the wall to the left, just on the other side of a large, strange chair that took up most of the space. Some file boxes piled here and there. The chair was reclined and reminded Hanna almost of a dentist’s chair—except for the long armrests with built-in restraints. She shuddered.
She was about to turn to leave, inwardly panicking about how she’d find her way back in the dark, when a voice hissed from somewhere in the room, “What do you think you’re doing?! You’re going to give us away! HIDE!”
Hanna’s brain moved slow. Too slow. “Legacy—” she started to whisper, but it was cut short when the door slammed open, brushing by Hanna in a rush that was too close for comfort. There stood evil Doctor Sol, a wicked smile and a glint from the desk lamp on her glasses. Beside her Nurse Aema stood, wide-eyed and shocked, a large orderly behind Fake Sol.
“So, what do we have here?” The false humor was covered in dangerous venom. Like a snake, Hanna thought, her body beginning to tremor. “I see that our little talk fell on deaf ears. Are you being a bad girl, Hanna?” The low nearly growl of Fake Sol’s voice sucked out all reason and strength from Hanna’s body. It took all of her will not to let her legs fold out from under her.
“Hanna, what—” Aema began, but evil Sol held up a hand of silence, never once even looking in Aema’s direction.
“We’ll deal with your negligence later,” evil Sol said with soft malice. Aema looked visibly shaken.
What have I done, Hanna thought, when she heard an angry voice.
“Now look what you’ve done!” Legacy cried out angrily. “I told you not to follow me!”
Hanna’s head whipped around to where Legacy stood on the other side of the chair, having given up her hiding place. Oh, Legacy, no, Hanna pleaded in her mind. Why?
Legacy scowled at evil Doctor Sol, hands on her small hips. “You know, if you really wanted to keep us in, you wouldn’t have your night guards leave the doors unlocked.”
Fake Sol tightened her jaw, anger flashing, but she said nothing. As Aema went to speak, Fake Sol raised her hand again. “I’ll deal with you later. For now, take the girl back to her room. I am not finished with this one,” she said darkly, her eyes never leaving Legacy.
The girl, thought Hanna. I guess it’s better than ‘Cadaver Number 5’.
As Aema led Hanna away, she risked a look over her shoulder at Legacy. Legacy’s face shone in triumph as evil Sol slipped in the door with the guard and closed it behind her. A knot filled her stomach as she wondered if Legacy would make it out unscathed.
-
“What were you thinking?!” Aema scolded in a whisper as soon as they’d rounded the hall into Hanna’s corridor.
“I didn’t know it was Legacy!” she hissed in reply. She hadn’t known, but the excuse suddenly seemed childish and lame.
Aema frowned at her. “What were you two hoping to achieve?”
Hanna stopped in front of Soohae’s door and turned to Aema. “I swear it, we didn’t plan anything together. I didn’t even know it was her!” She took an angry breath and continued. “And, anyway, I had planned to try to find Cris and Candace tonight—but clearly that plan’s gone out the window.”
She was being surly, she knew it. But taking out her frustrations on the one person she had on the outside. She knew it was her fault that Legacy was caught. She hadn’t been thinking. She’d panicked, and now Legacy was going to get punished for it. Hanna cringed inside at the thought of what kind of wicked cocktail evil Sol was putting together right now to test on the poor girl.
She shook her head slightly. It was no use thinking of these things. Legacy was strong and bright. Whatever it was, she’d get through it and come back even stronger.
“Is something wrong?”
Hanna hadn’t even heard the door open, but Soohae’s ghostly face peeked out from a crack in the door, barely visible in the dark.
“You have to go back to bed,” Aema said quickly, brushing past Hanna and pulling out her keys. “It’s best no one knows you could go out tonight—or ANY night,” Aema said sternly. Soohae disappeared without a word and Aema pulled closed and locked the door.
“You’re not gonna tell her?” Hanna demanded.
Aema sighed. “Look, what good would it do tonight? Besides, any moment my psychotic boss could come by to make sure I’m doing as I’m told, and then I could go missing next! Now, hurry up and get in your room!”
Hanna turned to say something snarky and her words failed her upon seeing her friend’s face. Aema’s scared, she thought. So, unlike the rebellious version of herself she wanted to be, Hanna quietly went into her room without another glance and shut the door behind her. She did not turn around even when she heard the keys click in the lock.
--
The next day, all patients were required to remain in their rooms. And the next. And the next after that. Hanna was going crazy with the waiting. She waited for Legacy to turn up, or to be punished, or anything that would mean not just waiting in the unknown. At least if she knew what terrible thing was coming, she could prepare herself, but the days passed slowly and quietly.
Aema hadn’t returned and Nurse Anna simply handed out the pills while an orderly served whatever meal was due at the time, and left her alone. At the end of the third day, Hanna had had enough. She was leaving this room one way or another. She reminded herself this as she lay a hand on her pocket, filled with the pills she hadn’t taken all day.
--
Hanna dreamt of running in endless, dark corridors, calling Legacy’s name. At the end of each one, a T-intersection. She always turned right. Right, towards that room she could never find.
Hanna awoke slowly. She felt incredibly warm and comfortable in her soft, Queen bed. Her familiar-scented pillow made her relax. She didn’t have to open her eyes to know where she was. Home, she thought. Her body was so calm and relaxed she nearly felt liquid. She nearly laughed with relief. After a time she sighed, opening her eyes and stretching. She looked around the room and paused. For the first time in a long time, everything was just as it had always been, and the allure of hoping it had all been a bad dream danced in the corner of her mind. But she knew better.
Washing up and dressing, Hanna considered her plans. Once she was ready for the day, she went downstairs and joined her guildmates in the kitchen. She glanced into the dining room as she passed. Soohae was reaching for jam for her toast as Anderson poured them both more coffee. Cris was at the end of the table, reading the town’s weekly ledger, chatting quietly with Alexander about upcoming events to be held by the Lord and Lady. Candace forked a piece of ham and laughed at something Undertaker said before he grinned flirtatiously. Hanna smiled and rolled her eyes, continuing to the kitchen.
The smells of freshly baked rolls, frying sausage and sizzling eggs woke her appetite as she entered the room. Aema was pouring freshly brewed coffee into a serving pot on a tray with a two cups. Legacy brooded in a chair at the kitchen’s table, eyeing the coffee. Hanna’s breath left her for a moment, until Legacy looked up at her with a surly expression and said, “What?” Hanna laughed and shook her head. The teenaged angst was music to her ears. Aema looked up as Hanna laughed.
“I’ve got the tea brewing if you wanted some, Hanna,” she said with a smile. From behind her, a curl of black smoke left the stove.
“Chaos, you better not burn my sausage!” Legacy cried, leaping up and hurrying to his side to micromanage his cooking. “No, don’t flip that! Those eggs need to be cooked longer!” Hanna felt the warmth of the house and all of its people.
“Leandro left this morning,” Aema said with a sigh as Hanna joined her at the kitchen island.
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“Left? To go out or, like, LEFT us?”
“Left us. She felt like she couldn’t keep up here. It turns out she actually has a guild of her own in the next town. She just liked it here so much.. Well, I suppose these things happen.” Aema poured the finished tea into a cup and slid it to Hanna.
“I suppose so,” Hanna replied, accepting the cup. The smell of cinnamon wafted up to her nose. Her favorite tea. “So, she was a Guild Leader this whole time? That’s kind of crazy,” she murmured. As she took a sip of the scalding liquid, she let herself enjoy the sounds of the house.
“We have a new face, though. His name is Ton. Oh, and Noble left his room this morning! Of course, he’s back there now..”
Hanna let the conversation flow on as she drank her tea and picked at her food. It was so nice being back in her familiar life that, for just a moment, Hanna had forgotten at least one missing face. Sol.
After breakfast, Hanna offered to remind Sol there was food. She knocked on the door to her quarters, but there was no response. Frowning, she went down the stairs and checked the library, the foyer, the parlor, finding her in none of those places. Finally, she made her way to Sol’s office.
The room was more of a study than an office, but it was probably one of the few things official about their guild’s Leader. When asked to take an office at the Guild Hall headquarters, she had instantly declined, as though it were only natural. But this was how she preferred it, and it made the others feel more like they were among equals than having to go and beg an audience from their own leader. Some guild leaders never even responded to queries sent.
Clearing her head, Hanna took a breath and knocked on the door to the office. It felt so solid under her knuckle. She’d never thought much about it before. She was noticing doors in a different light since the hospital.
Hanna knocked again, three soft taps. Finally, starting to lose her patience, Hanna opened the door and pushed it open. She froze a moment. An oversized chair had been moved into the room, housing a sleeping Sol, bundled under a blanket with a book on her chest and a long-cold cup of coffee resting on the table beside her. Hanna closed the door quietly behind her as she entered. The normally organized office desk was scattered with papers, books and maps.
She approached Sol quietly, undecided whether or not to lay a hand on her shoulder. Her Leader’s face was tired and drawn, and she slept deep, her hair falling over her face. A book of parchment lay on the table beside her cup, with mostly illegible scribbles covering the pages. A nonsensical diagram and a note written in a language Hanna didn’t recognize, a question mark following it. Hanna debated looking closer, or perhaps investigating the desk, when the door jerked open and Chaos called out, poking his head in, “Does the boss want breakfast or not?”
Sol jerked awake, startling, knocking the contents from her lap and looking around wildly, clutching her chest. “What the hell,” she started, sounding shaken. “Chaos!” she scolded, “You scared the living daylights out of me! And Hanna! For the gods’ sakes, make some noise when you walk!”
Chaos grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, boss!” he said with a salute before disappearing out of the door and pulling it closed behind him.
Sol looked up at Hanna with blurry eyes as she tried to slow her breathing. “Why are you standing over me like you’re going to suck my blood? Geez, Count Chocula, either kill me or don’t,” she grumped.
Hanna swallowed back the laugh that threatened to come out of her. She was always amused when Sol showed a little temper. Like a grumpy old man on the porch in his rocker. “Sorry, Sol,” she replied apologetically. “I was just coming to see if you wanted breakfast.”
Sol looked around confused and bedraggled. “Oh. Uh.. Not right now, but thanks,” she replied, stretching. Hanna could hear some of her bones crack within her. “Darn comfy chair,” Sol muttered to herself with a frown.
Something pricked at Hanna’s brain.
Sol looked at her as she stood and groaned, collapsing back into her chair and stretching her legs. “Was there something else?”
“You said Count Chocula.”
Sol blinked. She opened her mouth, seemed to change her mind, and shook her head with a look of mild confusion. “Yeah, so? You were being all vampire-y and stuff,” she scoffed, tilting her head.
Hanna shook her head. “No, it’s not that. It’s that—” She looked hard at Sol, her body tensing. “Count Chocula isn’t from this world.”
--
Hanna’s heart beat loudly in the deafening silence that followed. It was as if the very air had gone still. Sol said nothing, just sat for the longest time before sighing. Reaching over for her coffee cup, she took a small sip and made a face. “Well, at least it still tastes good, even if it’s cold.”
Hanna stared. “Sol,” she demanded, suddenly feeling a little braver.
“Hnn?” Sol stared into her coffee with a bit of a frown before setting it back on the table.
“Are you.. Are you one of them? Are you another fake Sol?”
Her Leader looked up at her thoughtfully, studying Hanna’s face before she spoke. “None of them are fake, Hanna. They’re as real as you and me. If you mean am I the original Sol you’ve met in this world, then the answer is yes.”
Hanna exhaled her relief, but she heard the words that were not there, and so she swallowed hard and asked the question again. “Are you one of them?” she demanded, straightening up and clenching her fists. “Are you a traveler—or whatever it is you called them?”
Sol leaned her head back in the chair and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out before she looked back at Hanna, looking weary. “I don’t know,” she replied.
-
Hanna sat on the stairs, her mind reeling.
“You don’t KNOW?!” She had blanched at Sol’s answer, but as she tried to calm her mind now, she thought back on the interaction.
“No,” Sol had replied softly, soul-weary. “I don’t know where I started or where I belong. I just know I was here. It hasn’t always felt right or wrong. I just have memories from the Otherwheres. That’s all.”
“The Otherwheres?” she’d asked.
Sol had nodded. “All of the places where our other selves exist, but where we don’t belong.”
“Do you remember ALL of these ‘Otherwheres’?” she’d asked, the words like an accusation.
Sol simply shook her head and gave a weak shrug. “I don’t even know how many Otherwheres are out there.”
Hanna laid her head in her hands. She didn’t know if that meant evil Sol could be here, had been here, or if she could be in the future. She longed to run into the parlor and hug the girls. Even tease the boys. But she couldn’t do so without then explaining her insane tale—and sounding the more crazy for it. She didn’t have the confidence that Sol would collaborate her story.
“Hey, banana,” Chaos greeted cheerfully, plopping down on the step beside her. “Is something wrong?”
It was a good question, but one she didn’t know how to answer. She looked up at him, but couldn’t think of a single thing she could say that didn’t sound made-up or crazy. Finally, she sighed and dropped her head back to her hands.
“Uh huh,” Chaos articulated before standing and dusting himself off. “Come on,” he instructed.
Hanna lifted her head and glowered. “Come on WHAT?” she replied sourly. He could be pretty playful, but she wasn’t really in the mood for his antics.
He gave her a look and reached down, grabbing her hand and giving one firm yank to pull her to her feet. “I said, COME ON,” he replied, pulling her along. Outside of the front door, he pulled her along the wide, covered porch and down the steps, rounding the manor.
“Fine, I’m coming! You don’t need to pull,” Hanna snipped, jerking her hand away. With a careless shrug and a little whistle, Chaos led her into the back gardens—which were in dire need of some repair.
“Ta-daa!” he said, spreading his arms wide and smiling.
Hanna just stared, deadpan.
Someone please tell me that he did not just bring me to the back gardens to show me NOTHING, she thought with annoyance.
After too long a wait, he dropped his arms and huffed, gesturing behind him. “I don’t think you heard me,” he told her, as if talking to a small child with selective hearing. “I SAID, ta-daa!”
Hanna’s eyes darted sideway, as if she were trying to spare him humiliation. “Yeah, I heard you, I just don’t get it. I know what the gardens look like.”
Chaos sighed and planted a hand to his face. After a moment, he tried again. “Look. The gardens. There is a lot of land here, right? Well, guess who said the gardens could use some love—and who was assigned to them?”
Hanna blinked and looked over the gardens with a frown. “I have to clean all this up myself and get it back into shape?”
“Not exactly. Each of us gets a plot of the garden to do with as we wish, but the land just BEYOND the garden, Sol gave permission for us to have farm fields. And I know how much you love your eggplants.”
Hanna’s eyes lit up with determination. “I shall build a plantation!” she announced laughingly, momentarily forgetting about all of the important things that had plagued her.
Hanna tried to put Chaos to work alongside her, but once the adrenaline for the excitement wore off, he made excuses about being sore and wandered off. Hanna worked tirelessly, the manual labor clearing her mind. She had worked for three hours before Soohae came to find her with some iced tea. “It’s warm today,” she’d said with a smile. Hanna had a smile too. The smile of someone who just found a new victim to recruit.
--
Hours later, the sun setting and sore to the bone, Hanna stumbled towards the house while rubbing her back. Soohae had stumbled back a half hour earlier, saying she had to recover before dinner. But, now that Hanna’s body was drained, her tired mind began to creep back to work. She pushed it away a little longer with a deliciously hot bath in rosewater, then with helping in the kitchen to make supper. Tomorrow, by all accounts was Viersdie—Friday in the other world, though in a world of tomorrows, do the names really matter? Sighing and closing her eyes, Hanna pushed the weird thoughts from her mind and focused on cutting the carrots into small, cubed pieces.
Viersdie was the day Sol kicked them all out of the kitchen and cooked herself. Hanna always looked forward to it because it meant two things: She didn’t have to cook, and she got to eat delicious things. Sol couldn’t make very diverse dishes, but the ones she did make were usually worth the wait. But now, with the traveling of her mind, her consciousness, would she really get to enjoy the day with her guild family?
At the table that evening, Hanna did more listening than talking. She watched her friends’ interactions, noted Noble’s absence and re-devoted a part of herself to wearing him down eventually. Glancing around, she tried to memorize every face. The good-natured Aema, surly Legacy, the self-proclaimed wannabe ‘badboy’ that was Chaos. Undertaker’s shameless flirting that reminded her a lot of another guild’s member. Tefy and Raya were in conversation about something Hanna couldn’t hear from her end of the table. Anderson was listening intently, occasionally enriching a conversation with Soohae and Candace. Ton was reaching for second helpings, heaping them onto his plate. A few members were absent for events or travels, Cris was talking to Alexander about the rumours of trains being built in the region, and Sol.. Hanna looked at Sol, picking at her plate, saying almost nothing and watching the table in much the same way Hanna had been doing. Smiling slightly at a comment here, rolling her eyes to a story there, hiding a chuckle or a smirk with her napkin. After a while her eyes landed on Hanna. She gave a slight smile and subtle nod, which Hanna returned before lowering her gaze to her plate. She took a bite of her chicken pot pie and took another glance at Sol, who was watching an exchange between Anderson and Soo with a warm affection and sadness. She realized it then. This Sol, whoever she was or wherever she came from, would never do them harm. And, for whatever reason, it struck her that no matter where she went, evil Sol, herself, did not seem to follow. An idea formed in her mind, questions she suddenly needed answers to.
Perhaps evil Sol wasn’t able to travel. But why? How?
--
Hanna waited to travel, but she did not. At first, it was a constant fear. Every time she closed her eyes or laid her head to sleep, she was certain it would be her last. The manor was half-empty most of the time with the guild members going to and from events, all at the pleasure of the Lord and Lady ruling the land. Hanna, herself, hadn’t been attending the balls and events, but she knew she would have to soon if she continued to stay here.
If nothing else, the solitude gave her time to garden, think, and fall into the rhythm of the house. She had lost track of time from when the storm had happened and up to now. Time seemed to freeze between places. Or, as Sol suggested, perhaps the consciousness must return to the moment from whence it came.
Hanna didn’t like to disagree, but there was something off about the theory. It didn’t have any regard for those whose consciousnesses were already transferred. When she had mentioned this, Sol simply gave a half-hearted shrug and sigh. “Paradoxes. I don’t have to like it, but they’re bound to exist. It’s why we shouldn’t mess with these things to begin with.” She paused, drinking thoughtfully from her favorite mug. “I’ve just decided the plural for several consciousness should be ‘consciousi’. See what I did there?” Hanna watched her leader chuckle at her own pseudo-cleverness and suppressed an eyeroll and a chuckle of her own.
She had taken to watching Sol a lot when she was around. Much of the time their leader seemed sad or lost in thought, but she would smile on cue and laugh when engaged. She made weird little jokes that mostly seemed to go unnoticed and, when she thought nobody was looking, Hanna noticed she would talk or sing quietly to herself. Or to her coffee. Hanna wondered if anyone else appreciated these little quirks, or if they’d noticed them at all when going about their days.
If these transfers stayed in order, the next time she woke, she would likely be in World 2—except that she wasn’t sure she could count on that. Not after skipping 2 on the way back home. It was maddening not to know for sure.
Hanna groaned with frustration and slammed the hoe into the earth. There had to be a better way to go about things. She just needed a clue, a push in the right direction. Just one single lead to follow. If she had that, maybe she could figure out exactly how to force a travel, choose a direction, or.. She paused in her work, wiped sweat from her brow, and leaned on the end of the hoe. The drugs. I could try to find out what’s in those drugs—how to make them. I could try to find a way to prevent this from happening to anyone ever again.
She may not yet have an entire crop, but for now she at least had a plan. The next time she plunged the blade of the hoe into the earth again, she had a satisfied smile.