The Outcast and the Survivor: Chapter Four

“Very well, leave us for now,” she says coolly, turning and looking at me as he walks out of the room without a word. “You must be Kaela.”

Although it shouldn’t surprise me that she knows my name, I’m troubled by how she says it, like she takes no pleasure of meeting me and is simply stating a

fact.

“And you must be Anastasia,” I reply sharply.

“You have a bit of an attitude,” she remarks.

“I’m just tired of being passed around like an object.”

“Do understand,” she begins much more empathetically, “that the lack of politeness here has little to do with you, so don’t take it personally. Kindness is simply not a trait that gets you very far in this world beneath the clouds. I’m not sure what it’s like where you come from, but this place is one where brevity and function are much more important than making sure that someone’s feelings don’t get hurt.”

I suppose that that makes sense. When I think back to growing up in Kalepo, I recall that courtesy and etiquette were sometimes more burdensome than helpful. Maybe it will be nice to be in a place where things work differently.

“Wade informed me that he didn’t tell you very much about the plains, which is what I requested of him, so let me do you the courtesy of briefly explaining a couple things to you.”

“When did you talk to him?” I blurt out, more interested in learning where he is than in hearing her answers.

“Not long ago, but if you’re wondering, he’s already gone. With his debt repaid, I asked him to leave.”

“What debt?”

“That is between him and me, but to be short, it is not customary for Sanctuary to harbor rangers. Doing so puts everyone here in great danger. He was desperate, however, so I made an

exception. In exchange, he retrieved you.”

The answer she gives seems overly simple, and with what I’ve come to know about Wade, it doesn’t ring true.

“He doesn’t come across as the begging type,” I say.

“Then you clearly don’t know what he was running from,” she replies with bite in her voice. “Whatever you think Wade to be, understand that he is a man without conscience who has done many unspeakable things to stay alive for as long as he has. His ruthlessness is part of the reason I chose him for the important task of finding you. That should have been obvious to you the moment he put a knife to your throat.”

The conviction with which she speaks stuns me to the point that I can’t bring myself to argue with her even though my mind is screaming at me to stand up for Wade. Maybe it’s because of everything that Minerva told me about the rangers, but I want to believe that the goodness I saw in Wade wasn’t just a lie so that I would trust him and do what he said.

“Let me start by asking you something,” Anastasia continues, seeing that she has momentarily quelled the fire within me. “What do you think the stars are?”

The question strikes me as completely unrelated to our conversation, but the process of answering it forces me to clear my mind.

“I’ve heard it said that they are distant flames in the heavens.”

“An interesting way of putting it,” Anastasia muses. “That would make them no different than the blue sun that gives this world daylight. Would you not imagine then that those distant fires have worlds of their own that bask in their glow?”

I smile briefly at what she is implying. The stars have intrigued me since childhood. I had many ideas on what they were, but the priests refused to give me anything but vague answers.

“So there are other worlds like this one,” I conclude.

“Yes,” she says, “but not quite like this one. There is no easy way to put it, so I will be blunt. Every few years, something strange happens, something beyond explanation. When the three suns perfectly align with our world, some connection is created between us and other worlds in the heavens. As this happens, creatures, people, and all kinds of life are pulled from those worlds into the plains, never to return.”

Anastasia studies me for a moment, perhaps to judge whether or not I am grasping what she is saying, but I give no reaction. It’s not necessarily that I’m completely overwhelmed by what she has revealed since everything else I’ve been hearing has built up to it, like when Minerva said that no one chooses to come here. Still, it is a lot to take in, just like Wade said.

“How is that possible?” I marvel.

“It doesn’t matter,” she replies. “That is simply how things are, which brings me to what you carry with you.”

She eyes my bag where the animal-skin pouch is, but I remain intent on keeping my father’s promise.

“Does the name Eliana mean anything to you?” I ask coyly.