by Brianna G. Harte
PREVIOUSLY, ON “THE KNIGHT OF XEO”
Focus on what you do know, I told myself. The belts holding me down could hit the griddle and create an opening. I was not nearly tall enough to reach the air vent with or without the table. There is a chair in the room, as well as an annoying stone propped a pedestal. A hallway outside the door at least led to one other room. More beings were somewhere in the building, hostile or not. Of all the details, the chair could be what I need to reach the vent.
Slowly, a general plan was forming.
If only I could practice making an opening in the air vent. If only I knew how to navigate through the vent upon breaching it. If only – no. I didn’t have the luxury of trying again and again. It was time I stopped thinking of scenarios where I did. I had to have faith that I could execute a plan. I guess that having my memory would have made it a lot easier to do this.
“What are you thinking about?”
My head jerked upwards. I didn’t even hear the door creak. Strangely, I saw nothing before me. And yet, I could be sure that I heard Ad’juk.
“You have had plenty of time to think about the voice you heard. Now, who is it?”
“Where are you?” I demanded. Sweat began to crawl onto my face. I began to hear my heartbeat in my head. I couldn’t shake it, no matter how much I tried to tell myself to calm down.
“I am simply on an intercom. Now, back to my question. Who was the one you spoke to in the other reality?”
“How am I supposed to know? It would be much easier to find out if I had my memories, which you stole,” I accused without remorse. I wondered if it was possible to get them back. To my misfortune, I did not happen to have any ideas on where to look even if I escape and if it was possible to find them at all.
“I would advise you to not make such bold statements,” Ad’juk said. “It could trigger the stone beside you to start acting up again. It seems as though you have already provided it with quite a bit of fighting spirit, and there is no limit to how much more it can react.”
My eyes fell upon the glowing rock to my right. What does that mean? Is it connected to my feelings? How? “Stop being cryptic and tell me what it’s doing!”
“If I told you, it would not be as interesting, young lady.”
I began to ponder over his words. It didn’t make sense for him to say that I’d shown much fighting spirit at all. If I had much to spare, I surely would have tried to flee more than once before now. What could he have meant?
Copyright 2017 Brianna G. Harte. All rights reserved.