“Yeah. Still nothing. Maybe it’ll make sense later. But listen, Dust.” She clasped her hands together, leaning forward. “You’ve been with us such a short time, but you’ve already done so much. I really am proud of you.”
That caught me off guard. I gawped for a second before she spoke again.
“Sometimes I wonder, you know, how my life would be if things had gone differently with my kids. I wonder if they would have grown up magical. I wonder if they would have done as well as you.”
Something twinged in my chest. Thea never spoke about her children. I told her what I felt. “Knowing who their mom is, I’m sure they would have done even better.”
Thea smiled, and something seemed to twinkle in her eye. But then she rose from her seat, her eyebrows furrowing as her gaze went to my shoulder. Before I could say anything, she struck me, swatting at my arm with her open hand.
“Ow.” I looked up at her, bewildered. “Wow. You’re really bad at taking compliments.”
“Hmm?” she said absently, looking into her palm. “Oh, no. It’s nothing. Just a spider. Lorica’s an old building, you know how it is.” She brushed her hands off, letting the squashed arachnid fall to the ground. Thea smiled. “Someone will pick that up.”
“Yeah, okay.” I rubbed my shoulder. “Thanks.”
“For now I need you to rest up. Get better. Looks like we’ll have to set our sights elsewhere. Maybe we’ll send you to commune with another entity.”
I groaned.
“Cheer up, Dust. Maybe you’ll be granted yet another favor. The entities seem to love you.”
I pulled the covers up over my chest, honestly wanting to slip them all the way up over my head. “No more favors. I’m still reeling from the last one.”
Thea chuckled. “Some Tylenol should fix that. Get some rest, Dust. And get in touch with one of us if you’re hungry. Someone will come. You shouldn’t be up and about yet.”
I nodded and gave her a weak salute. Thea smiled again, then shut the door quietly behind her. Food was the last thing on my mind. I just wanted more sleep. I riffled through my side table – whether the meds were there because of Bastion or the Lorica’s bizarre sentience I couldn’t be sure, but whoever it was, thank you thank you – chugged some pills, then crawled back under the sheets. Twenty-seven hours? Hah. My head, hell, my entire body still felt like it’d been run over by a truck.
When I opened my eyes again, I still had no real conception of time. Thea had dismissed Bastion and told him to grab a late lunch, so I guessed that it must have been mid-afternoon when I woke the first time. But how long had I been asleep since then? What time was it now? I looked around the room, wondering where my cellphone was, and started checking on the side table when the door creaked open again.
“Dust?”
I looked over at the door and perked up instantly. “Herald. Buddy. Old pal.”
He returned that with a tight smile, stepping into the room clutching what looked like a large paper cup. A familiar, rich aroma wafted through the air above my bed, into my nostrils, and –
“Is that. Is that coffee?”
“Got it in one. I know you like your coffee. I mean I’m not entirely sure I made it the way you like but – ”
“Doesn’t matter.” I snatched the cup eagerly out of his hands as soon as he and the coffee were within grabbing distance. When did I last have any caffeine? God. Maybe I was addicted.
I blew across the lid, took a tentative sip, then hummed contentedly. “This is so sweet.”
“Oh.” Herald adjusted his glasses. “Maybe I added too much sugar after all.”
“No, no. I meant it’s really sweet that you brought me this.” I sipped again, savoring the richness, that hint of chocolate and milk. I held up the coffee cup. “You didn’t have to, and I really appreciate it.”
He shrugged. “It’s no bother. I would have come sooner but things have been hectic over in the Gallery.”
That was when I noticed that Herald’s tie was looser around his neck, his waistcoat more creased than usual, his hair slightly mussed. Strange. The guy was always so put-together. I took another sip.
“You’ve been working too hard.” I don’t know how many times I’d said that to him, but between Herald’s responsibilities and his own alchemical experiments, it was a wonder how he hadn’t already collapsed from overexertion.
Herald grimaced. He liked to give off the impression that he was stern and stony, but I knew better. “No. I haven’t. And anyway, I came to check on you. How are you feeling?”
“Bored.” I took another swig of coffee and smacked my lips. “Boring? Pick one.” I realized it was true. I’d had enough sleep, and I was aching for something – no, anything to do.
“If you weren’t in such a condition I’d take you over to the Gallery, show you some of the new stuff that’s rolled in. That wouldn’t be boring.” He waved his hand around the emptiness of my makeshift apartment. “Well, at least not as boring as this.”