against it. She was boiling water, and
though I'd heard her tell Katja that she was making tea, I was
waiting for her to pour it down the back of my shirt. I murmured
her name, sweat making my hair damp, but she only grunted, lifting
a boot to subdue me into silence.
Akela
lifted the pan and I screwed my eyes shut, tensing as she poured
the water into a cup, and breathed so rapidly I thought I might
pass out. The spoon chimed against the side of the cup as she
stirred the tea, taking it into Katja's room and returning no more
than a minute later.
“Akela...” I whispered, watching her pull the door all but an
inch closed. Turning her head sharply towards me, she set her jaw
and dragged a chair over, placing it in the centre of the
room.
She
straddled the seat, arms folded across the backrest, and stared at
a spot above my head so intently that I didn't dare to speak again.
Anger resonated from her, more palpable than the heat rising from
the stove, and I knew that she was planning her next move. I knew
what she was capable of, had seen her take an axe to a man's face
to hide the evidence, and it was worse than facing Katja. Akela had
always been my friend, and she'd never belittled or chided me.
She'd never given me a reason to avoid her, and yet there she was,
full of rage, figuring out a suitable way to deal with
me.
Minutes
passed and eventually, Akela exhaled heavily and rose from the
chair. I pushed myself back with my feet, gripped the chains and
tried to tear them free of the stove for the dozenth futile time,
but Akela turned from me. Without a word, she headed back into
Katja's room, returning seconds later.
With a
blanket draped over her shoulder, Akela knelt in front of me. My
mind reeled with what she planned to do with it – whether she
wanted to blind me to what she was doing, or bind me, that I might
be thrown in the ocean – and when I shook and sobbed, Akela brought
a finger to her lips.
She
opened her other hand, showing me the small, silver key pressed to
her palm.
She was
helping me. She was helping me. Akela reached for the lock and I
thrashed my legs out, not knowing how to stop myself. She recoiled
instantly and held her hands where I could see them, and once I
forced myself to be still, she slowly held the key out to me,
pinched between her finger and a thumb.
I
reached out with an unsteady hand, dropped the key and watched it
skid across the floor. Akela didn't move a muscle, didn't take her
eyes off me, and I stretched out, fighting against the chains to
reach the key. I didn't make the same mistake twice. I held it
firmly, slipped my hand behind my back, and got it into the lock on
the third try. The lock clicked open and I pulled it from the
chains, pulled the chains from my wrists and clung to the burning
stove, clawing my way to my feet without taking my eyes off
Akela's.
After so
long chained there, after all I'd been through, my legs wouldn't
support me. I looked to Akela for help and flinched when she held
out a hand, but I knew there was no getting out of this, not
without her. Closing my eyes, I grabbed hold of her arm, and as
gently as she could, Akela wrapped the blanket around me. I wanted
to ask her why she was doing that, but when my eyes fluttered open,
I saw how much my skin was truly glowing, what with her hand
clasping my arm.
“Northwood. I am lifting you, now, and we are leaving,” Akela
whispered, “Please, you are not needing to be afraid of me. I
promise.”
I
nodded, terrified that I'd lash out against her, but Akela picked
me up so swiftly that I wasn't given time to panic. I felt like
nothing in her arms, weightless with all the blood I'd lost, and
Mahon came to me in scraps of sound. My eyes still couldn't focus
properly and I'd pulled the blanket over my head, desperate to hide
myself, afraid that another soul would see me.
The
apartment door swung shut behind us and Akela's boots pounded
against the stairs, pattered through the streets, and
though I'd heard her tell Katja that she was making tea, I was
waiting for her to pour it down the back of my shirt. I murmured
her name, sweat making my hair damp, but she only grunted, lifting
a boot to subdue me into silence.
Akela
lifted the pan and I screwed my eyes shut, tensing as she poured
the water into a cup, and breathed so rapidly I thought I might
pass out. The spoon chimed against the side of the cup as she
stirred the tea, taking it into Katja's room and returning no more
than a minute later.
“Akela...” I whispered, watching her pull the door all but an
inch closed. Turning her head sharply towards me, she set her jaw
and dragged a chair over, placing it in the centre of the
room.
She
straddled the seat, arms folded across the backrest, and stared at
a spot above my head so intently that I didn't dare to speak again.
Anger resonated from her, more palpable than the heat rising from
the stove, and I knew that she was planning her next move. I knew
what she was capable of, had seen her take an axe to a man's face
to hide the evidence, and it was worse than facing Katja. Akela had
always been my friend, and she'd never belittled or chided me.
She'd never given me a reason to avoid her, and yet there she was,
full of rage, figuring out a suitable way to deal with
me.
Minutes
passed and eventually, Akela exhaled heavily and rose from the
chair. I pushed myself back with my feet, gripped the chains and
tried to tear them free of the stove for the dozenth futile time,
but Akela turned from me. Without a word, she headed back into
Katja's room, returning seconds later.
With a
blanket draped over her shoulder, Akela knelt in front of me. My
mind reeled with what she planned to do with it – whether she
wanted to blind me to what she was doing, or bind me, that I might
be thrown in the ocean – and when I shook and sobbed, Akela brought
a finger to her lips.
She
opened her other hand, showing me the small, silver key pressed to
her palm.
She was
helping me. She was helping me. Akela reached for the lock and I
thrashed my legs out, not knowing how to stop myself. She recoiled
instantly and held her hands where I could see them, and once I
forced myself to be still, she slowly held the key out to me,
pinched between her finger and a thumb.
I
reached out with an unsteady hand, dropped the key and watched it
skid across the floor. Akela didn't move a muscle, didn't take her
eyes off me, and I stretched out, fighting against the chains to
reach the key. I didn't make the same mistake twice. I held it
firmly, slipped my hand behind my back, and got it into the lock on
the third try. The lock clicked open and I pulled it from the
chains, pulled the chains from my wrists and clung to the burning
stove, clawing my way to my feet without taking my eyes off
Akela's.
After so
long chained there, after all I'd been through, my legs wouldn't
support me. I looked to Akela for help and flinched when she held
out a hand, but I knew there was no getting out of this, not
without her. Closing my eyes, I grabbed hold of her arm, and as
gently as she could, Akela wrapped the blanket around me. I wanted
to ask her why she was doing that, but when my eyes fluttered open,
I saw how much my skin was truly glowing, what with her hand
clasping my arm.
“Northwood. I am lifting you, now, and we are leaving,” Akela
whispered, “Please, you are not needing to be afraid of me. I
promise.”
I
nodded, terrified that I'd lash out against her, but Akela picked
me up so swiftly that I wasn't given time to panic. I felt like
nothing in her arms, weightless with all the blood I'd lost, and
Mahon came to me in scraps of sound. My eyes still couldn't focus
properly and I'd pulled the blanket over my head, desperate to hide
myself, afraid that another soul would see me.
The
apartment door swung shut behind us and Akela's boots pounded
against the stairs, pattered through the streets, and
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