Page 78 of Unruly
Damn it.
Right before my eyes, the Horror slipped inside Borja, and now I’ve got twice as much trouble on my hands.
Of course, I’ve heard of this happening, but I’ve never had this experience myself. I could try my handbook, but I think I need to call in backup at this point. It’s time to summon my guide.
If anyone can give me a clue as to what to do next, it’s her.
I call out for my spirit guide, Elina, waiting for her to appear.
As the air in the room shifts, I look around frantically for her, and as she appears, a sense of calm spreads through me.
“Thank you for coming.”
“Of course, you know I’ll always come find out what ails you.”
“The Horror is inside of Borja.” I point to him lying lifelessly on the couch, skipping any small talk. “It happened so quickly I wasn’t able to stop it. I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had to banish a Horror that’s taken over the living.”
“Borja is not exactly living, is he?”
“What? Well, no, he’s a Chaser, but?—”
“But that matters.” She smiles gently at me. “He can’t be harmed the same way a mortal can.”
“No, he can be harmed worse if I do the wrong thing. He can end up in the Below.”
“Yes, that is a problem.” She nods. “Well, let’s see. We have a few choices, don’t we?”
“Do we?”
Elina nods. “I suppose the first one is that you could finally tell him. Now is the time to accept what he is to you. That will help.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, Farnsworth, you’re being rather thick for such a smart man. You knew from the beginning that this was his destiny, to be paired with you as a Chaser, yes?”
“Yes, and?”
“And if it’s his destiny, then it’s also your destiny, silly.”
“Fine, but why would we be destined to work together?”
She gives me a flat look, like a disappointed mother to her child. “You really are dense, aren’t you? Your destiny isn’t about work, Farnsworth. It’s about love and companionship.”
Her words startle me, and I open my mouth to object, but I’m too speechless to do so.
“It can’t be,” I finally mutter. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Why doesn’t it?”
“Why would we be…? Who decided…? Well, I mean…” I blow out a breath as I realize I’m unable to speak clearly. “Why?”
“Why what?” she asks.
“Why would I be given such a thing? I’ve been faithfully committed to my position for centuries now, and I don’t believe I’ve done anything disappointing or wrong.”
“What a strange conclusion. Why would you think you’ve done something wrong?”
“Why else would I be given the distraction of a love interest?”
