Fracture (The Machinists) (23 page)

As the white glow dissipated, the man’s shoulders hunched. He apparently had drawn the same conclusion Nyla had. Then, oddly, the man steeled himself, his posture becoming erect and his eyes determined. “You’re Allyn, I assume?” His voice was friendly.

Allyn nodded.

“I promised her I would get her out of here. She didn’t believe me.”

“You’re Graeme’s mole,” Allyn said.

The man winced. He didn’t seem to like that distinction. “My name is Jarrell.”

Kendyl’s eyes drifted closed. Her breaths became shallow. Allyn squeezed her hand tighter.

“Tell her I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner,” Jarrell said. “I need you to let go.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Please,” Jarrell said.

Something in his voice told Allyn it was okay. He squeezed Kendyl’s hand a final time and placed it on her thigh.

“Whatever you do,” Jarrell said, “whatever you see, do not interfere. You will kill her.” With that, Jarrell took a deep breath and placed his hands back over Kendyl’s wounds. Allyn had seen people healed before, but it had never been quite like this. The normal soft-white glow became something so bright that Allyn couldn’t look at it directly. Even the air around it seemed to shimmer. He could almost
feel
it, tender and therapeutic. Jarrell’s hands started to shake, and sweat beaded on his brow as his pale face turned red with strain.

Kendyl stirred, but her wounds did not change.

Jarrell continued, seconds turning into minutes. His eyes were closed, and a permanent wince marked his face. His breathing became sharp, ragged breaths. The glow around Jarrell’s hands dimmed as he appeared to get weaker. Still, Kendyl’s wounds hadn’t changed.

Jarrell cried out. He was pushing himself too far. His body was giving out. Nyla took a couple steps toward him, ready to aid him. He couldn’t continue like this for much longer. Short, ragged breaths became nothing more than Jarrell sucking in air and holding it for as long as possible. Exhaling sharply, he blew spittle from his mouth. His tongue, red with blood, snaked out to moisten his cracking lips.

Face pale, skin dry, Jarrell looked as though he would fall over dead at any moment. Then Kendyl’s wounds began to close. Tender pink skin stretched across the hole in her back until it was closed completely. More did the same over her stomach. Jarrell began to shake violently, his hands barely able to keep the connection between their bodies. He coughed, flinging a thick ball of blood and mucus from his mouth. At last, he withdrew his hands and collapsed on the ground beside her, looking into her eyes.

Her eyes are open!

Jarrell convulsed violently, his eyes never leaving Kendyl’s.

Nyla arrived and took him into her arms. His body relaxed. Nyla didn’t probe. She didn’t have to. Jarrell’s eyes had lost their sparkle. Allyn had seen the blank expression on the faces of men and women throughout the compound. Death.

“What just happened?” Allyn asked softly.

“He just did the impossible,” Nyla said. “He saved your sister’s life.”

But something wasn’t right. Kendyl wasn’t moving. Allyn cupped her face, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. “Kendyl. Kendyl. Can you hear me?” She didn’t respond. He turned to Nyla, pleading with his eyes.

Nyla slid over to Allyn, probing Kendyl again. Confusion spread over her face.

“What?” Allyn asked.

She didn’t respond.

“What?”

“He was too late.”

Hot anger swelled inside him. It was a carnal thing spewing forth from the deepest recesses of his body. Anger at Lukas. Anger at himself. Anger at Graeme. Anger at being abandoned. Anger at the cancer that had taken his mom. Anger at the responsibility that lay at his feet. Anger at the death of his hopes and trampled dreams.

He focused on that anger, surprised by some of it. How long had he been carrying it? He had to get it out. He centered on it, adding his grief, pulling it from within, trying to get it
out
. He rolled it into a ball inside, allowing it to swell, pulling it from that place, pulling it
through
himself, washing it off his skin into his hands. He had to get rid of it!

Instinctively, he placed a hand on Kendyl’s chest. He held it there, pushing his anger into his palm. It spewed forth, growing into red coils of electricity that wrapped around his hand, stretching out across Kendyl’s exposed skin. Then he released. Kendyl convulsed. Her back arched, and her body grew rigid, as if she had been hit with a defibrillator. Then she fell limply back to the floor.

Nyla shrank back.

Allyn drew the anger out again, and more red coils of electricity wrapped around his fingers. When he released it, Kendyl convulsed again. Ready to do it a third time, Allyn dove deep within himself. The emotion was growing harder to grasp.

“Wait!”

Allyn withdrew.

Nyla had drawn closer. She held Kendyl’s hand in hers. “How did you do that?”

Only then did Allyn realize what he’d done. He felt it in his hand. It was weak, but there. A pulse.

“I don’t know,” he said. But it didn’t matter. Kendyl was alive.

Chapter 17

K
endyl woke two days later. Graeme had put her in a spare room near Allyn’s. It was smaller than his, barely large enough for the four-post bed, single bedside table, and the leather armchair Allyn currently occupied, but it also had a clear view overlooking the forest behind the manor. Hidden behind a steady drizzle and low-hanging clouds, the trees were difficult to make out, though. Winter had officially arrived, and it was going to be another wet one.

Kendyl awoke slowly, as if she were waking from anesthesia, and Nyla had told him the process wasn’t all that different. Kendyl’s body needed lots of rest, so she was kept unconscious in a form of magic-induced coma. Nyla checked on her every hour, even through the night, tracking her body’s healing process and making sure she didn’t wake prematurely.

Allyn was there for all of it. He had barely left her side and felt guilty when he did, but some things couldn’t be done in the bedroom. Meals were brought to him when it became obvious he wasn’t going to adhere to a normal eating schedule. Nyla was especially accommodating, checking in on him as often as she did Kendyl, and she kept his spirits up by updating him with her progress. Kendyl’s pulse was stronger. Her breathing was more stable, and her body was beginning to fight the magical anesthesia. All were good signs, according to Nyla.

“Why can’t you just heal her?” Allyn had asked.

“There’s only so much we can do,” Nyla said. “Her body needs to do the rest.”

He didn’t understand, but he didn’t argue. Nyla had her reasons, whatever they were. She would make the final decision. She would allow Kendyl to wake when she felt she was strong enough. That decision had come hours ago. Now it was up to Kendyl.

Her fingers moved first, then her toes. Her eyes opened next, slowly blinking away moisture and squinting at the daylight shining in through the window. Nyla closed the curtains as Allyn knelt beside the bed. Confused, Kendyl looked at him.

“Hey there,” Allyn said. “How are you feeling?” When she didn’t respond, he asked, “Can you hear me?”

Kendyl groaned.

“It’s okay, take your time.”
She never did like to wake up.

Kendyl blinked a couple more times and shook her head, trying to clear her it, before resting her gaze back on him. “Allyn?” Her voice was soft and weak.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here.”

She nodded and scanned the room. “Where are we?”

Allyn looked to Nyla for help. She shrugged and sat down on the other side of the bed.

“We’re with friends,” Allyn said.

“Friends?” Kendyl gave Nyla an appraising look. She didn’t seem to believe him.

“That’s right,” Nyla said. “Friends of Allyn’s. I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. May I take your hand to check your vitals?”

Kendyl pulled away.

“It’s okay,” Allyn said. “She wants to help.”

Reluctantly, Kendyl offered her hand. Nyla took it and placed her fingers on Kendyl’s wrist. Kendyl was oblivious to the faint glow around Nyla’s fingers.

“Well, you’re not going to be running any marathons anytime soon,” Nyla said as she withdrew her touch. “But given the circumstances, you’re doing remarkably well. Try to take it easy tonight. Work on getting your feet under you. Walk around the room. But don’t push yourself too hard. You should feel even better tomorrow.”

Kendyl didn’t respond. When had she become the rude one?

“Thank you,” Allyn said.

Nyla smiled and stood. “I’ll leave you two alone. I’m sure there’s a lot to talk about, but I’ll be back in an hour with lunch.”

Kendyl suspiciously watched her go. It was out of character. Kendyl wasn’t the suspicious type. If anything, she was too trusting, always willing to give someone a chance—or two. “We need to go,” she said, kicking her legs over the edge of the bed as the door clicked shut.

“Easy,” Allyn said. He took her heel in the palm of his hand and rolled her legs back onto the bed. “You heard her. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

Kendyl kicked Allyn’s hands away. “What are you doing?”

“I’m listening to the doctor’s orders.”

“She’s not a doctor.”

“Close enough.”

“You don’t know who these people are, Allyn. You don’t know what they’re capable of. We need to leave.”

“No.”

“Allyn! Listen to me!”

“They saved your life.”

Kendyl stopped fighting.

“They’re not who you think they are.”

She glanced at the door. Someone walked past, their footsteps muffled behind the door. “Who are they, then?”

Allyn told her everything. He started with the attack at his apartment. He told her how he survived a fall that should have killed him and woke up in a room just a few doors down without any injuries. He told her how Graeme had asked for his help, how he’d said no, and how he’d regretted it. The man who had attacked him didn’t come for him again and had gone for her instead. Allyn talked, and she listened, never interrupting.

He told her about going to her apartment and finding one of Lukas’s magi waiting for him. He explained his agreement with Graeme, who’d promised to get her back if Allyn helped him, and how Graeme had kept that promise.

The nagging pit of guilt in his stomach slowly dissipated as he recounted his story. It felt good to get it out.

“It’s not your fault,” she said.

“I should have said something,” Allyn said. “Warned you.”

“What good would that have done?”

“It would have given you a chance to get away.”

She shook her head. “Something is going on here, something bigger than both of us. I don’t think we could have escaped it.”

Allyn sighed. “I’m one of them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can wield. It’s not like the rest of them. It’s electricity, I think.”

“Let me see.”

Allyn grimaced. “It’s not that easy.” His knees cracked as he stood up.
How long have I been in that chair?
He paced in front of her bed. “I’ve tried to do it again, but I can’t. I feel a void inside me where the power came from, but it’s empty, and something is keeping me from filling it again. I think I have some kind of block.”

“Do you think it’s something somebody did to you? A shield of some kind?”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

“What is it then?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Allyn said. “You were going to die if I didn’t do something. I was frantic, scared, willing to do anything to save you. I think I just broke through it before.”

Kendyl sat up in the bed. “Then maybe it’s been there all along, and only when your need was more powerful than the block were you able to wield.”

Allyn nodded. “That makes sense. Graeme said that even if I had descended from an ancient magi line, I probably still wouldn’t be able to wield. The ability would have been bred out of me because I’d lived apart from it for so long.”

“That explains why
I
can’t.”

“You tried?”

“What do you think Lukas was trying to get me to do?” Kendyl asked. “He was trying to break through my block. He…” Her eyes grew distant, and her expression became dark.

“Hey,” Allyn said, shaking her foot. “It’s okay now.”

Kendyl’s eyes looked wild. “Do you think the block is permanent?”

“I don’t know. It might be. I haven’t been able to wield since.”

“You haven’t had to. But you broke through it once, so you should be able to do it again. And it should be easier next time.”

Next time?
Allyn hoped there wasn’t a next time. “Maybe.”

“Then all I have to do is get past it once.”

“What are you planning?” Allyn asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “I just want to know what I’m capable of.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Allyn said. “As soon as you’re healthy, we’re getting the hell out of here.”

Kendyl started to respond, but Nyla stepped into the room, carrying a tray of roasted garlic chicken over steamed rice with an assortment of greens. Allyn’s stomach growled as she placed the tray beside Kendyl.

“You look like you’re doing better,” Nyla said.

“I’m feeling better,” Kendyl said.

“Good,” Nyla said with a smile. “Is there anything else you need?”

Kendyl shook her head.

“I think we’re good,” Allyn said.

“Okay,” Nyla said. “I’ll leave you be.”

“Do you want some?” Kendyl asked as Nyla left. “I can’t eat all of this.”

“They wouldn’t have given it to you if you didn’t need it,” Allyn said. “I’ll just run down to the kitchen and get something. Do you want anything else?”

“I’m good,” Kendyl said, her mouth full.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

He left, guiltless for the first time in a long time.

The funeral procession began the next day. Allyn and Kendyl filed out of the back of the manor along with the McCollum Family into the gardens, where twelve bodies wrapped in white sheets lay atop a pyre. A single body was elevated on a platform above the rest. As he drew closer, Allyn noticed personal effects had been placed upon the chests of the fallen, visible for all to see, identifying each body. The one on the elevated platform had a pair of glasses resting atop a leather-bound book. Jarrell.

Kendyl held on to Allyn’s arm as they continued forward. This was the first time she’d left her room, having insisted on being present out of respect for the man who had saved her life. She owed Jarrell a lot more than she could ever give. Exhaling deeply, Allyn hoped his respect was stronger than his stomach. The idea of burning the dead didn’t seem right.