Page 61 of Mindeater

Salem. The name rings through my skull: Patryn’s letter, the research—everything.

I’m reeling from the revelation that Ryx found Salem Winchester, but also confused. What Nina told me only expands the puzzle, not filling it in.

The pair leave the tent without looking back, and when I peer down at my stomach, the pus and gore are gone, but a black scar remains.

23

Ryx

The spasms are worse.

A brutal throb bounces between my temples.

Fuck. It took something from me. Again.

Like every other time I use the pulse, I won’t know what the toll is until I go to reach for it. Usually, it’s memories. The ones I have left are too important to lose. Pushing up from the cot, I rub at my forehead, trying to will the pain to go away. After I lost control in the warehouse, someone must’ve brought me to my tent. I have no idea how long I’ve been unconscious.

Precious hours gone all because of one person.

Saren.

If I didn’t already hate him, this would have done it. The images of why I hate him are fuzzy today. Blips in time that fit together like circles in a square. Even if I can’t accurately recall what all happened, I know what I feel inside isn’t wrong. I have every reason to hate him. That’s what I hold onto.

I peel off my gloves, examining the leftover damage. The mark is bigger now. Angrier. What used to be the size of a pea, too small to notice without looking for it, has grown, nearly engulfing my inner palm. Clenching my fist, I ignore how tight the skin feels and put the gloves back on.

While I can’t afford a repeat, I need to make Saren talk. If I have any chance at all of stopping this thing in its tracks and helping my people, I need to control my rage. He can’t get under my skin again. How the fuck does Saren know I’m afraid of the dark, anyway? I flick my eyes over the lanterns in my tent and scowl. Maybe he slipped that fact out of Kane’s head.

We all know how fast a leech can see everything they shouldn’t.

There’s no point in asking how. What does or doesn’t spook me is irrelevant. First things first, I need to piss and then check on Nina. Intervening like that was stupid. If our roles were reversed, I would have let the pulse consume me. There aren’t many of us left, and the ones that are still breathing are one temptation away from transformation. Useless to our cause.

Mindless.

No, that can’t happen.

I leave the tent, breathe in the crisp mountain air, and thank the gods I'm well above the contamination zone. Even though centuries have passed, some places are still thick with toxins, and long-term exposure is lethal. A quick glance at the sky tells me it’s late. The day is practically gone. While I make my way to our makeshift restroom, I study the morale among our small republic.

These people are exhausted. Tired of moving from one place to another. Children who have never known stability make do, building snowmen and playing with sticks for toys. Before we found this spot, our numbers were significantly larger. But the pestilence made swift work, spreading through our encampment and killing thirty percent of us. And then there was the split within our ranks.

I’m not so arrogant as to think I can save the world. It goes deeper than any of us know, but I’m the best equipped to try. Once I get the information I need from Saren, find a way into New Grove, and my bonded, I can get everyone to Briar Peak. It’s the last stronghold against the Telex regime. Admittedly, I could do without being chained to someone.

An Other’s bonded is the equivalent of a mate, but much deeper.

That kind of power is easy to exploit. And if an Other’s bonded dies, the pulse takes you.

I wanted to avoid it entirely, use whatever time I have left and accept my fate, but Salem refused. I don’t know that I believe those old tales. Nina hasn’t found her bonded. As much as she wishes it was Daniel, it isn’t. But she has more time. She’s not sick. She also doesn’t exploit the pulse like I do.

After using what can only be described as the most degrading form of a restroom, I seek out Nina.

She’s outside her tent, braiding Kaya’s hair. It almost feels normal. Almost.

As I approach, Kaya is beside herself to see me, but her mother is withdrawn, refusing to meet my eyes. What did she do now? One would think, being the daughter of Salem fucking Winchester, that she’d be on board with our purpose. But Nina is the most outspoken about the leeches. She’s thrown several fits over the years about how cruel I am.

“Ryx!” Kaya squeals, making grabby hands and, in the process, getting her scalp tugged.

“Sit still. I’m almost done,” Nina chides.

“Did you give him my rock?”