Authors: Felicia Jedlicka
“Very much,” Ethan said sternly.
“Then no worries. We’ve done worse to each other over the last Twinkie.”
“True.” Ethan offered her a hand up, which she took. “Was leaving the cabin necessary?”
Cori grimaced and shoved her herbs in his face. “Tea,” she followed up with a toothy grin.
He pulled her hand down and smelled the herbs. “Can’t argue that.” He put his hand on her back and gently rubbed along her spine. The soothing gesture felt good, which consequently made her a little uncomfortable. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
She shook her head.
“Good.” He stopped the tender contact and cuffed her on the back before heading back to the cabin.
Cori shook off the residual sensation from his touch, along with the mental taunts from her sorrow demon.
With a very long walk ahead of them, Ethan was glad to have tea in the morning, but it only staved off his hunger for a few hours. He had hoped to forage for something while walking, but everything seemed to be out of season. The thick grassy underbrush left out the option for mushrooms, and the tall lanky trees were not the fruit-bearing type.
A misty rain came in from the cliffs far to the east, leaving them cold and wet. The same misty rain that rarely left the time bubble without a dense blanket of ominous fog. It was good for keeping a low profile, but bad for traveling.
“Why are we leaving the nice warm cabin?” Cori asked, trudging behind him.
“Demnok will come back. It’s best to keep moving. Plus we have no food.” He didn’t want to mention that the boredom of staying in that house another day might force him to make bad choices in the name of entertainment.
“Can’t we kill a rabbit or something?” she said, dragging the leaves off a nearby branch as she passed.
“There are no rabbits here, just snakes. They’re pretty easy to catch, but not so easy to kill.”
“How’s that?”
Ethan abruptly turned around. “Please don’t ask about snakes. It’s a bad experience all around, and I hope to avoid it as long as possible.”
“Sorry,” she said, wide-eyed with a hint of sarcasm.
Ethan grabbed her hand and pried her fingers apart, revealing the leaves she had just pulled from the branch. “And for crap’s sake, stop leaving a damn beacon trail for Demnok to follow.”
Cori looked at her hand. “Oh, I didn’t think about that. Sorry,” she said without the undertone of sarcasm.
They continued for another half mile. She was quiet as a mouse behind him. He glanced back several times to ensure that she hadn’t wandered off. This was the longest amount of time he had ever spent alone with Cori, but he knew silence wasn’t something that came naturally to her, especially when she had questions. He stopped and turned to her. “You can talk.”
Her mouth went slack. “I wasn’t
not
talking intentionally. This place seems to agitate you. I just figured the questions were making you cranky.”
“Now the silence is making me cranky,” he grumbled.
“
You
could talk,” she pointed out before he could continue walking.
“Talk about what?” he asked, flummoxed by the suggestion.
“You could answer all my questions before I ask them, so I don’t have to ask them.”
“What are you questioning?”
She raised her hands to the sky. “Pick a bubble and its contents.”
“Oh.” He turned around and kept walking.
She stopped following and started walking beside him. “It must be in the books somewhere that once you read enough about this prison, you have to start acting reserved and enigmatic.”
“I’m not trying to be secretive. I just don’t know where to start.”
“I’ll start,” Cori said, putting a skip in her step to keep up with his pace. “We are in a time bubble in which for every one hour that passes outside of it, one day passes inside of it.” Cori offered Ethan the continuation with a wave of her hand.
“The bubble is actually maintained by a member of the prison.”
“How…” Cori stopped herself and physically zipped her mouth shut.
Ethan smiled and resisted the urge to touch her in some way. “The prison, as you know, is filled with some sentient beings, and some not so sentient. We also know that some beings are more tangible than others.” Ethan nodded to her back, where she housed one such non-tangible being. “Those beings aren’t necessarily prisoners here; they are just the result of magical forces being drawn into an area of highly concentrated magic.
“For those beings more sentient, and less dangerous, or more easily bound, we can negotiate living conditions and food perks, in exchange for useful powers. The time bubble is actually the reason we can’t have television or radio.”
Ethan could see Cori bite her lip in response to that new information. He could see the questions brimming behind her eyes, but she patiently drank in his words. It was rare that she came to him for answers. Danato was usually her teacher. He liked being the teacher for once.
“The being that controls the bubble is linked into the mechanized devices that run the building. It’s a non-tangible entity that feeds on electrical energy. That is its perk for keeping the time bubble going. However, televisions and radios are communication devices that would allow the being to not only transfer out of its defined parameters, but into a human being.”
“That’s possible?”
“It would feed off of the electrical brain impulses, all the while driving the host like a car. Escape is unheard of for this particular creature, so constant electrical feeding, and no temptation of escape, is the best way to keep it happy.”
“How does—”
“Don’t ask me how the time bubble works. They only offer theories, and the equations that go with it are as Greek as it gets. I just use a blanket explanation of
magic
for that one
.
”
“What about the phone?”
“The phone is less dangerous because it doesn’t produce independent broadcasts, but Danato never stays on the line for more than ten minutes at a time.”
“Just when you think you have a grasp on it all, they throw time bubbles in.”
“There we are.” Ethan pointed across a clearing to a teepee set amidst the trees. Above the door flap were two symbols that resembled eyes. From this distance, it looked like the head of a giant, albeit a pointy one.
“Really?” Cori said, looking at the structure.
“It’s warm, out of the rain, and the wizards tend to avoid this area,” Ethan pointed out.
“Should we gather some wood?”
“We won’t need it.” He smiled and walked on.
When they reached the teepee, he undid the tied flap doors. Upon opening, the teepee expelled a waft of steam like an exhaled breath in winter. He climbed into the welcoming warmth within.
The teepee was dimly lit by the hole at the top. The floor wasn’t dirt, but instead several overlapping animal hides that created a carpet. In the center was a black boulder. “What is that for?” Cori pointed to it after she slipped in behind him.
Ethan closed the flaps, adding to the dim. “It’s the heater. Don’t touch it; it’s hotter than it looks.”
Without touching it, Cori extended her hands to feel the heat from it. She pulled back when it got too warm. “Geothermal heat at its best?”
“Very good.” Ethan started to prepare a bed for himself amongst the animal skins. He was ready to relax even if it wasn’t officially night yet. After a long day of walking and breakfast as a distant memory, he didn’t see any point in wasting his energy.
“How does this land get inside the prison?” Cori explored the leather walls of the teepee, which were littered with drawings. The majority of them were just bored scribbles and graffiti, but a few looked like real Native American drawings.
“Technically, we’re not in the prison anymore, we are wherever this place is. We were transported here. We are bound within the limits of the bubble’s designated space. The only way in and out is through the fracture in the prison.”
“So, no rabbit stew?” Cori sat down beside him as close to the stone as was comfortable.
Ethan shook his head.
Cori’s stomach grumbled at the mention of stew. “We won’t die of starvation in four days,” she said more to herself than him.
“Nope.” Ethan leaned back on his makeshift pillow of rolled-up hide and closed his eyes.
Cori lay down using Ethan’s stomach as her pillow. He was surprised she was allowing such a close proximity, but he certainly wasn’t going to shove her away.
She rolled over to face him with her cheek pressed into the base of his ribs. He could feel her, but he didn’t want to open his eyes to look at her. He raised an eyebrow, sensing her impending question.
“That other creature we were discussing earlier. Is it the only animal here?” she said coyly.
“It was placed inside the bubble instead of the zoology level, because it multiplies rapidly, provides food for the wizards, and it needs space to… dig.”
“Couldn’t we try to get one of those?” her voice chimed with childish persuasion. She even went so far as to tiptoe her fingers up his chest.
He grabbed her fingers tightly and opened his eyes. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” she said, still playing her part.
“Don’t play the seducer with me.”
“I’m hungry, that’s all.” She pulled her fingers away and sat up.
“Then ask me. I don’t need you blurring any lines I haven’t already blurred myself.”
Cori swallowed and inhaled deeply. “Can you kill a snake for us to eat?” She said it flatly, without any hint of feminine guile.
“Not unless one pops out of the dirt. You can’t track them underground,” he said.
“They tunnel that deep?”
“Yes.”
“A snake that tunnels deep underground? What does it eat?” she asked.
“Dirt,” he said.
“Dirt,” she laughed. “Snakes don’t eat dirt, worms eat dirt.”
Ethan didn’t respond. He had already said too much.
“It’s a worm?” She snorted.
“It’s not a worm. It’s eight feet long and as thick as my thigh.”
“Does it have fangs or a visible mouth?” she asked.
“No, but…”
“It’s a worm!” She laughed raucously, grabbing at her side.
“Here.” Ethan pulled out a granola bar he had stashed in his pocket. He’d intended to save it for day three or four, but he wanted her to shut up. He tossed the green package at her, hitting her in the head.
“Hey.” She picked it up and examined it. “You had this the whole time?”
Ethan rolled over away from her. “I was saving it. I thought we might need it later.”
“Only if we don’t find a…” Cori ran her finger up Ethan’s back. “…s-s-snake.”
He rolled back to face her and pointed to the other side of the rock. “Go over there and eat your granola bar. Leave me in peace to rest.”
She ignored the graveness in his voice. “Don’t you want half?” She fluttered it in his face.
“No, just eat it.” He waved it away.
“Well that’s a first.” Cori crawled to her side of the black rock. “I guess we’ve come a long way, if we aren’t fighting over the last piece of decent food.” She stared at the package for a long moment instead of opening it. She tossed it back to him, hitting him in the stomach. He picked it up and waited for an explanation from her. “Keep it for now. I’ll be way more irritable tomorrow. You’ll want to give it to me then.”
He wondered if they had made progress. Neither one of them was willing to claw the other’s eyes out for the only processed food in the entire bubble. Or perhaps they were just too tired to make the effort. “If we come across a sn… worm, I’ll try to kill it,” he conceded.
Content with their compromise, they each lay down to rest.
Ethan jumped from his slumber hearing screams from Cori. Still paralyzed from his own sleep, he stumbled across the animal hides to her side. Not a soul was touching her, but her cries said otherwise.
He fell down beside her and shook her vigorously. Her arms flailed and she arched her back. Her hastened breath hissed through tightly clenched teeth. Her eyes fluttered open and she threw a fist at his chin.
He couldn’t stop the hit, but with continued effort, he did manage to restrain her arms.
“No,” Cori whimpered. “Don’t touch me.”
“It was just a dream, Cori.”
“No, it was real.” She shook her head insistently. “I saw it. I felt it.” She stopped flailing, but started twisting her wrists to be free of his hands. He let go, satisfied that she wasn’t going to punch him again.
“I know. I know.” Ethan sat up beside her. “I forgot about the dreams.” Ethan kicked himself for not warning her about this. Being outside of the house meant losing the luxuries of the protection the house offered.