The bed was soft, and Olexa was lying naked between rough homespun sheets. Every part of her body hurt, and her head ached again. She didn't want to move, but someone was talking to her, talking very loudly in her ear. She swore, annoyed, and slapped at the person without opening her eyes.
"Hey…." came a hurt voice from nearby. It sounded so familiar, but Olexa didn't want to think now. She wanted to go back to sleep. Nothing hurt while she was sleeping, and no one talked to her.
Try as she might, she couldn't go back to sleep. Her fingers and toes were burning. I supposed I got frostbite, she thought grimly. Damn rain.
She couldn't remember what had happened. She remembered snapping harshly at Torn, and vowing to get her family back to her. She had stormed out of the room, down a narrow flight of stairs, and into a crowded bar. Wrong turn, she remembered thinking. Several drunken men leered at her as she hurried out of the small room and into the pounding rain. Her thin, slightly-ragged clothing was soaked in seconds, and she was so cold. It had been warm before, but here, by part of the sea, it was cooler and cloudy, and she wasn't used to it.
That was all she remembered. That and darkness, and now, a bed. She tried to move and found herself unable to do so. She moaned, from sheer helplessness. Why couldn't she move?
Involuntarily, her eyes flicked open. The room was mercifully dark and quiet; she didn't think her headache could've allowed any bright light. She looked over to the side of the bed, toward the person she had slapped at.
"Sharlot!" she gasped.
The little girl smiled widely and ran out of the room and down a hall, crying, "She's awake, she's awake!" Olexa didn't know where she was. The ceiling didn't look familiar, and it was too much effort to turn her head again and look around to see where she was. She wanted to go to sleep again, but still she found herself unable to do so.
"Lil girl, you better not be teasing me again! Doctor Finch said that lil girl might not ever wake up again!" The hearty, rich female voice startled Olexa, and she summoned up all her energy to turn her head and look at the woman who was entering the room.
It was a short, slight woman with gold braids. Olexa didn't know what she expected from that booming voice, but it was not that. When the woman looked and saw that Olexa was indeed awake, she seemed to glow with excitement.
She asked Olexa questions about how she felt and what hurt. Olexa answered each question honestly, and asked the woman if she was a doctor.
The woman chuckled. "No, dearie, not a doctor, just a doctor's assistant. I work here, y'see."
"And… where exactly is 'here'?" Olexa asked, even thought she wasn't sure she wanted to know.
"I'll be quite honest with you, dearie, it's merely a temporary shelter for those who've been displaced by the siege. It's turned into more of a children's home of late, though. All those who were with ye in the sewers are here, y'see," the woman told her. "And I'm just Auld Grissie."
Olexa squinted. "You don't look old," she said.
The woman merely laughed. "Do you want to guess how old I am?" she asked with a chuckle.
Olexa didn't want to guess – her head hurt too much – but she didn't figure she had much of a choice. "Um… thirty-five?" she guessed. It was a generous guess. She would have said thirty, but for the woman being called "auld."
Grissie laughed loudly, making Olexa's head pound all the more. "Sixty-seven!" she crowed. "Sixty-seven and not a day less!"
Olexa was fed up with the woman already, and she did not care to ponder why she looked so young. "…Can you give me something to make me sleep?" she asked, trying to sound pitiful rather than annoyed.
The woman shook her head. "You've slept quite enough, dearie. You've been sleeping for near to four days."
"Four days!" Olexa gasped. She hadn't known anyone could sleep that long and still be alive.
Auld Grissie nodded smugly. "Four days and not a day less," she beamed. "We weren't sure ye'd make it, lying there all pale and cold, but now, here ye are, awake and smiling!"
'Smiling' was a bit of an exaggeration – Olexa's face was twisted into a grimace – but it was true that she was awake. "My fingers and toes burn," she complained.
"And that they will for quite a while," Grissie said in satisfaction. "Durn near frozen off they were." She bustled about for a moment, doing who-knows-what, talking all the while. Olexa stopped listening; the woman annoyed her greatly.
Suddenly Grissie stood tall and slapped herself lightly on the forehead. "What am I doing, standing around here while you're there with nothing to eat for four days. You must be starved, dearie!"
In truth, Olexa didn't feel hungry at all, but she was too weak to protest. Auld Grissie hurried out of the room, mumbling about strong broth and tea.
………………………………………….
Three weeks later was a night that was darker than any night that Olexa could remember. She felt comfortable in the darkness. She belonged to it. It was her home.
She was stronger now, stronger and smarter and she had a grand plan. She slipped out of bed and got dressed in her washed and dried clothes. Then, holding her boots in her hand, she tiptoed down the hallway to the children's dormitory.
"Sharlot!" she whispered. "Liam, Taj, Willem, Laurelee, Liam!"
Six heads popped up. Obviously no one had been asleep, and the six of them were the only ones in the dormitory. Olexa hadn't told them of the plan; she had figured there was less of a chance that anyone would slip up and tell.
"Huh?" It was Liam. He tiptoed over to her. "Olexa? What are you doing up?"
"Get your clothes, we're leaving!" she said excitedly.
Sharlot began to cry, and Olexa could see her stroking the soft leaves of the plant that sat on her nightstand. "I don't want to leave!" she said, sobbing softly. "I want to stay here with Grissie!"
"Me too!" came a chorus of soft voices. "You can go, Olexa, but we want to stay here!"
Only Liam looked unsure in the moonlight. Finally he, too, shook his head. "It's nice here," he said softly. "We always have food and a bed. I like it." He looked at her sadly, turned, and went back to his bed.
"What do you mean?" Olexa gasped. She felt like exploding. "How ungrateful are you?" she gasped.
"Grateful?" It was Taj's voice. "Olexa, we were all in it together. We don't owe you anything."
Olexa wanted to shake them, all of them, but instead she turned. She went back to her own room, not caring who heard, and stood at the window looking out. She looked down at the dark, silent street three stories below. For one brief moment, she thought she could see Muriel's body lying there, crumpled and broken on the pavement.
I killed you… and with you is where I belong.
The paint on the window was stuck shut, it had been since she got there, but now Olexa had a burst of new strength. She pulled as hard as she could, and heard rather than felt her fingernails splinter and break. She didn't care; soon it wouldn't matter.
The ground looked so far away. She couldn't see Muriel anymore. She couldn't see, she could feel. She wanted to be with her sister, she DESERVED to be with her sister….
And suddenly the ground was so close, and the scream stuck in her throat burst free….