Chương 51: Ch 29b – Fight

Wyndeer barks an order at Crathsun as he takes hold of Cara's elbow and marches her into the rec room. He doesn't bother to take her all the way to the armchairs, settling instead for the first chair he reaches at the corner of the long table. He kicks it out and nudges her to sit down.

"How?" he demands. He puts a hand on the table to brace himself as a short coughing fit overcomes him. Draig has followed them into the rec room. He stands, arms crossed, watching not Cara, but Wyndeer. Still in Draig's hand, now tucked into the crook of his elbow, is the shard. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand Wyndeer repeats the demand, "How?"

"I- I don't know," Cara blurts out in genuine confusion. She looks from Wyndeer to Draig, hoping that they can explain it to her. Wyndeer's hand slams down hard on the table. She muffles a yelp.

"Don't give me that! How?" Her shoulders press hard on the back of the chair as she runs out of space to back away from him.

"I don't-" His hand slams down again. Her knees jolt up in her chair. Pushing her knees back down with shaking hands, her fingers seek each other, squeezing and pressing at the trembles.

"Wyndeer," Draig says in a low warning. His hand hovers by Wyndeer's shoulder, ready to push him away from Cara. Wyndeer's lips curl as he looks down his nose at Draig's hand, "Go ahead, Pink," he snarls ominously. Not daring to move, Cara watches a vein bulge in Draig's temple under his reddening skin. Just when she thinks Draig is going to shove Wyndeer, he takes a sudden step back, pulling his hands behind his back. Wyndeer sneers, but doesn't savour the moment, turning back to Cara he resumes his demand, "How?"

"I don't-," she clamps her mouth shut against the words. In truth she has no idea. She tries to process the event in real time.

"I- He- Flavitt, Flavitt said not to breathe in the gas so I held my breath. The shard activated, then- then I was watching the balls rise up. And I- I realised, I knew that I had done it, but I honestly don't know how."

"You're lying," Wyndeer snarls.

"I'm not," she insists, "I promise, I'm not. It just happened. I'm still trying to work out what happened." Her vision begins to blur with tears. She blinks them away furiously.

"Keep talking through it," Draig says in a tightly controlled tone. Wyndeer allows the intervention, but anger carves deep lines on his face. His hand is balled into a tight fist, his knuckles push hard against the table. Draig has squatted down next to her chair, bringing his face level with hers. Giving her a focal point that doesn't include Wyndeer.

"After you saw them rise and you realised you had done it. What did you do next?"

"I tried not to panic," she says shakily, addressing his indigo eyes.

"I concentrated on continuing to hold my breath."

"So that they didn't drop back down," he nods, encouraging her to continue.

"And then?"

"And then," she thinks out loud, "and then I asked Wyndeer what to do." She turns back to the angry man towering above her.

"I asked you." Her palms open and her shoulders rise towards her ears, mirroring her recall.

"I asked you, remember? You understood. You opened the trunk." He grunts. His face remains locked in anger, but his fist loosens, his fingers spreading on the tabletop.

"Wyndeer opened the trunk," Draig prompts by her side, "then what did you do?" She shuts her eyes, trying to take herself back into the moment.

"I thought about the open trunk. That's right," she opens her eyes, meeting Draig's again.

"I didn't try to move the balls. I just thought about the open space in the trunk. And they moved. The balls moved into the trunk."

"They did," he agrees. He blurs in front of her as more tears well in her eyes. He rises abruptly, turning his back on her to speak in low tones with Wyndeer. She can't hear their exchange, but both men's bodies reflect their ongoing tension with one another. Draig squares his shoulders as Wyndeer snatches the shard from his hand. He points it aggressively in her direction. Cara, not wanting to lock eyes with him, quickly drops her attention back to her lap. Squeezing her fingers tightly, one by one.

Reminding herself that she cannot run from them. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

"Do it again," Wyndeer orders sharply. He thrusts the shard at her face. Cara swallows hard. She wants more time to reflect on what happened in the hall before trying again, but Wyndeer's mood is unforgiving, and she doesn't want to risk any further provocation by protesting. She reaches out her right hand to take the shard. A dull throb burns through her forearm. With the events of the afternoon she has nearly forgotten the drama of her injury that started the day.

The pain medication Draig had given her must have worn off. She realises that despite having held the shard on and off throughout the afternoon, not once had she experienced its healing energy. It is of little surprise then, she reflects, that she finds herself feeling so emotionally and physically drained. Is it, she wonders, because she is purposefully activating the shard? Or is the pain from her injury too minor to trigger it?

"Cara," Wyndeer demands unyieldingly, "do it again." Draig has taken a respectful step back. Wyndeer still towers over her. Waiting, arms crossed, with a growing impatience.

"What do you want me to try it on?" Cara asks in flat resignation. Wyndeer digs into a pocket and pulls out a small black cube. It clunks, louder than necessary, as he puts it down on the table.

"Move the cube." Cara holds her breath, activating the shard. She thinks not about the cube but about the space next to it. Nothing. The cube remains unmoved. She concentrates hard on the space, picturing the cube in it. Nothing. She releases her breath, gulps in new air and holds it again. The shard buzzes into life. There is a zig-zag scratch on the table, she imagines the cube being placed on top of it. Nothing. The zig-zag remains uncovered. She looks from the cube to the zig-zag. Nothing.

She looks at the cube, then directs her thoughts to the empty space above it. Nothing. She thinks about the cube appearing in the empty space. Nothing. She thinks about the base of the cube, trying to conjure up a fear at how it touches the table. Tries to imagine an urgency for the cube to move away from the table. Nothing. Her lungs begin to complain about the stale air she is forcing them to hold. She tries to transfer her growing desire to breathe into an urgency for the cube to lift. Nothing.

A burning sensation ignites in her lungs. She pretends the burning is caused by the cube's contact with the table. Nothing. She tells the shard her growing discomfort is caused by the cube touching the table. Nothing. She exhales the stale air. Wyndeer lets out an even louder exhale of annoyance.

"I don't understand how I did it," Cara says miserably, placing the shard on the table. It gleams merrily next to the cube. Crossing her arms protectively, her fingers brush the prominent goosebumps that pucker her still damp skin.

"I trusted you, Cara. I gave you the opportunity to explore the shards at your pace, but you refuse to co-operate."

"That's not fair," she exclaims, the threat of tears cracking her voice, "I helped in there."

"How, Cara?" Wyndeer demands.

"How did you use the shard to help?"

"I don't know. I- it- just reacted to the fear." The words flow off her tongue in desperation to appease him.

"Somehow, the shard helped. I felt an overwhelming danger, and it just happened. I was scared. I felt trapped and threatened, just like in the bunkhouse." She clamps her mouth shut, but the words have already escaped.

"Then perhaps Vheece's method is the correct one," Wyndeer says with an edge of disappointment. He stands straighter, rocking back on his heels.

"No," she yelps.

"You don't believe that," Draig says angrily, twisting sharply to face Wyndeer.

"This method isn't working," Wyndeer snaps back.

"Once Vheece is briefed on the incident today and her account he will insist on a return to his way."

"I won't - Argatta won't allow it," Draig says, his voice getting louder.

"Argatta won't be relevant if Cara refuses to explain how she does it," Wyndeer says imperiously. Level with her eyes, Cara watches his hand curl into a tight fist.

"There are now two incidents of uncontrolled psychokinesis. The assessment must determine how by any means necessary. Social Sub is going to lose what little influence it has left on the Joint Visitor Programme. Argatta's role, and yours, will be finished."

"Fuck my role," Draig shouts. He flings an arm up in exasperation, almost hitting Wyndeer's chest.

"If you go back to Vheece's methods you'll kill her and determine nothing."

"It's not my decision and it's certainly not yours, Pink," Wyndeer spits in contempt.

"It is your decision until Vheece reads the report. You'll be responsible for what happens to her." Spittle flies from Draig's lips along with his accusation.

"Even if she's not lying, she doesn't know how to control it. She-." Draig explodes.

"She used it less than 10 minutes ago, not against you, but to protect you, and you're already condemning her for not mastering it. Review and Refine Wyndeer. Or are you just one of Vheece's boys now?" Wyndeer's punch is so fast Cara does not have time to flinch until Draig is already reeling backwards from the contact. Draig had managed to raise an arm but too late for any meaningful deflection. Wyndeer's fist makes a solid connection with his face. Draig's recovery is much faster.

He leaps onto Wyndeer, sending both of them skidding backwards along the length of the table. As soon as their momentum slows, they start pummelling each other in a frenzy of elbows and fists. Cara staggers back from the table. She does the only thing she can think of to stop them killing each other. She runs to get Crathsun.