Page 26 of Detonation
“Do you promise? I don’t want to feel this suffering anymore.”
“I swear by it. You only need to let go of your lingering thoughts and pain. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
I hold on to my mental defense, realizing he can only hear the thoughts I project to him.“I can’t live like this.”
“Good boy. Enjoy eternal slumber,” he says, fading.
I hold Lana’s image close, refusing to give up on her and my brothers.Hold on, Ash.He’ll drop his defenses again. He’ll get complacent.
I won’t enjoy eternal slumber until I take you down with me, Anshar.
Chapter Eight
Lana
I brush myself off, disheveled and panting from my position on the ground, the daily run having already pushed me to my limits, and try to see who my next opponent is.
I’ve surprised everyone, including myself, with how quickly I’ve climbed the ranks of her fighters in the past week. To everyone’s shock, I’m not quite as useless with my powers as we’d once thought. Though I’m still going mostly on instinct, I’m learning, evolving with every fight, whether that’s a creative use of my powers that I wouldn’t have considered or a close combat technique. Every moment is valuable and I’m not going to waste this opportunity.
The days have bled together in a haze of aches and countless hours of duels. Only three remain in their group, including their leader. Yesterday, when their leader called it a night, I trudged to the dining hall and spooned broth into my system before heading back to our tent and collapsing from exhaustion. Every part of my body is sore every day, screeching at me for putting us through this.
She warned me that I would feel this way. She wasn’t wrong.
Squinting my eyes at the sun, I make out the familiar face of the woman standing in front of me. It’s the same girl who found me after getting struck by lightning. I have yet to figure her out. She’d seemed guarded and skeptical of me but, for a split second, she had seemed hopeful when I said I was Oslana.
I scrutinize her, trying to jog a memory.Did I know her before?
Nothing comes to mind but there has to be some connection. Why else would she want Oslana back? Not many people are thrilled at my return so why was she, if only for a breath?
“What’s your name?” I ask.
She raises an eyebrow, leaving me hanging for long enough that I think I’ll have to christen her myself, before she relents. “Noreen.”
Noreen? Think, Lana, think.
She waves her hands in my face, interrupting my train of thought. “Do you need a break? You look disturbingly constipated.”
Her and Serenity would seriously be best friends.The onslaught of anal and shit jokes that would come from that friendship makes me shiver. I have to make sure they never meet.
“Ha, ha,” I deadpan. “No, I do not need to take a shit. Let’s go.”
I get to my feet, far less gracefully than I would like but I’ve decided that’s my new strategy. Look like a newborn giraffe and everyone underestimates you. Truly, it’s a flawless plan.
I’ve mostly been on the defensive for the last few duels, not quite having enough faith in my offensive powers to take on the more skilled fighters of the group. I’ve relied on them to protect me on reflex but actually directing the attack feels different. I feel unsure of myself.
I need to get over that little hiccup.
The memory of sparring with Lucius—Luke—in my previous life comes to me. I had sent a layer of ice shooting towards him with only a thought, the chill spreading to the tips of my fingertips.
Noreen narrows her eyes at me, circling me, looking for an opening to attack, but I’m far ahead of her at this point. Visualizing the dome that I want to surround her, I let the feeling of ice spread through my fingertips, let my hands feel the phantom chill until the ice webs out from my fingertips. As I bite my lip to stop the squeal that wants to escape, I raise my hands and picture it ensnaring her.
But instead of the dome, a block of ice hits her square in the forehead and I cringe. A trickle of blood leaks down her face and I cringe. “Oops. That isnotwhat I was trying to go for.”
She sways on her feet and I take a step towards her to steady her, concerned that I gave her a concussion. My foot falls through where the ground opens up beneath me and I fall into the pit that she created in a split second.
I stare up, stunned, as her face appears at the mouth of the pit, a big ole smile plastered on it, the blood from her forehead leaking down, painting her lips and teeth red.Psycho.
“How’s the weather down there, Oslana?”
