Like Quin? Taler had treated him with a courtesy and kindness beyond his expectations, a stark contrast to the life he had known. Could this be his new home? A place where he could belong, where he was no longer viewed as a demon?
“Can you sit up?” Taler asked. “I need to change the dressing on your back.”
Keir did so with her help, grimacing. He moved stiffly, his muscles aching. Something stung his back where the knife had pierced his shoulder, before Taler ran her fingers over the spot. He cringed at the contact but refused to let himself pull away as she worked.
“Incredible,” she muttered. “Well, I think I can let you go now.” Smiling at him with unfamiliar warmth, she took his arm and opened the metal collar. The needles revealed inside must have been buried in his skin and he winced in response. Beads of blood marked his inner arm.
Keir watched her every move in silence as she laid it aside. Wriggling his fingers dispelled the faint numbness it had caused.
“Quin left some clothes for you. I’ll fetch them. When you’re dressed I’ll take you to her.” Taler handed him a glass of clear liquid. “Drink this while you’re waiting, please.”
He took it in both hands and sipped. It was cool and sweet and his parched throat was grateful. “Thank you.”
She smiled as she left, and Keir gulped down the rest of the liquid as ordered. The drink seemed to give him some strength and he wondered what was in it. Taler soon returned with a small bundle of clothing and a pair of black shoes, which she laid on his bed.
“I’ll put the screens up,” she told him. “Shout when you’re ready.”
She touched the main wall behind him and two metallic partitions slid out at right angles to box him in. He shivered at being confined, reminded of his cell beneath the North Tower. Swinging his legs from the bed made his back and ribs twinge, and placing his bare feet on the ground sent a shock through him. The soft black flooring was warm but felt totally alien, the textured fibers molding across his soles like a second skin. The sensation was unnerving, and several times he pulled his feet free to avoid it.
Melancholy filled him. There were so many strange things to become accustomed to. For a moment it seemed overwhelming, and he sat where he was, clutching the blanket. Eventually, he stood and made himself let the cover drop. Forced himself not to pick it up again. He had not been naked since the night he was tortured and he shivered at the feeling of the air on his bare skin.
He dressed quickly, still feeling exposed though the clothing was warm and comfortable. The thick gray top had sleeves that hooked over his thumbs to cover the backs of his hands, a small blessing for which he was grateful, but the rounded neck was not high enough to hide the tattoos at the tops of his shoulders. After tugging at it several times, he gave up with a sigh of frustration.
The pale-colored trousers hung off his hips, even after he had cinched the belt as tight as it would go. He slipped his feet into the shoes, relieved not to have to feel the floor any longer. Still feeling bare and unfinished, he called to Taler and the screens snapped back. He flushed at her admiring glance as she checked him over and grinned her approval.
“Much better,” she said. “Are you ready?”
He nodded, eager to leave. All he could think of now was seeing Quin again, learning more about the strange world she had brought him to and the new life she had promised him.
Taler led him through numerous corridors that all looked the same: windowless off-white walls and tiled white floors, lit by faintly lambent ceilings. They passed people occasionally, and Keir tried in vain not to stare, despite the medic’s assurance it was expected from a newcomer. He was certainly viewed with a degree of curiosity in return, but without the fear and hostility that had always met his appearance in Adalucien.
One passerby stopped to exchange lengthy
“Can you sit up?” Taler asked. “I need to change the dressing on your back.”
Keir did so with her help, grimacing. He moved stiffly, his muscles aching. Something stung his back where the knife had pierced his shoulder, before Taler ran her fingers over the spot. He cringed at the contact but refused to let himself pull away as she worked.
“Incredible,” she muttered. “Well, I think I can let you go now.” Smiling at him with unfamiliar warmth, she took his arm and opened the metal collar. The needles revealed inside must have been buried in his skin and he winced in response. Beads of blood marked his inner arm.
Keir watched her every move in silence as she laid it aside. Wriggling his fingers dispelled the faint numbness it had caused.
“Quin left some clothes for you. I’ll fetch them. When you’re dressed I’ll take you to her.” Taler handed him a glass of clear liquid. “Drink this while you’re waiting, please.”
He took it in both hands and sipped. It was cool and sweet and his parched throat was grateful. “Thank you.”
She smiled as she left, and Keir gulped down the rest of the liquid as ordered. The drink seemed to give him some strength and he wondered what was in it. Taler soon returned with a small bundle of clothing and a pair of black shoes, which she laid on his bed.
“I’ll put the screens up,” she told him. “Shout when you’re ready.”
She touched the main wall behind him and two metallic partitions slid out at right angles to box him in. He shivered at being confined, reminded of his cell beneath the North Tower. Swinging his legs from the bed made his back and ribs twinge, and placing his bare feet on the ground sent a shock through him. The soft black flooring was warm but felt totally alien, the textured fibers molding across his soles like a second skin. The sensation was unnerving, and several times he pulled his feet free to avoid it.
Melancholy filled him. There were so many strange things to become accustomed to. For a moment it seemed overwhelming, and he sat where he was, clutching the blanket. Eventually, he stood and made himself let the cover drop. Forced himself not to pick it up again. He had not been naked since the night he was tortured and he shivered at the feeling of the air on his bare skin.
He dressed quickly, still feeling exposed though the clothing was warm and comfortable. The thick gray top had sleeves that hooked over his thumbs to cover the backs of his hands, a small blessing for which he was grateful, but the rounded neck was not high enough to hide the tattoos at the tops of his shoulders. After tugging at it several times, he gave up with a sigh of frustration.
The pale-colored trousers hung off his hips, even after he had cinched the belt as tight as it would go. He slipped his feet into the shoes, relieved not to have to feel the floor any longer. Still feeling bare and unfinished, he called to Taler and the screens snapped back. He flushed at her admiring glance as she checked him over and grinned her approval.
“Much better,” she said. “Are you ready?”
He nodded, eager to leave. All he could think of now was seeing Quin again, learning more about the strange world she had brought him to and the new life she had promised him.
Taler led him through numerous corridors that all looked the same: windowless off-white walls and tiled white floors, lit by faintly lambent ceilings. They passed people occasionally, and Keir tried in vain not to stare, despite the medic’s assurance it was expected from a newcomer. He was certainly viewed with a degree of curiosity in return, but without the fear and hostility that had always met his appearance in Adalucien.
One passerby stopped to exchange lengthy
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