Chapter 63

“Er - hang on.”

Maggie and I are standing outside in a muddy lawn, where we’ve been for - what seems like - hours, trying to train without Ada’s help.

Maggie freezes while she seems to be syncing with someone.

The sky is so overcast we never do see the sun. My feet are soaked and cold, and I’m brimming with anger at Ada, who I’ve finally started screaming at, but she won’t budge. The only good of it is, there’s more life in her now - I can feel that on a visceral level - but she’s stubborn as a mule and wants to spite me.

“Karin, I think we’d better head back.”

“Thank the goddess,” I sigh. “Sorry, Maggie,” I add.

She shakes her head. “It’s okay. You’ve been working really hard. The thing is,” she says. “I just synced with Henry. He’s worried about Sir Ansel.”

My heart begins to quicken. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s pretty sick, it seems.”

I have that sinking feeling again.

We go inside. Maggie says she’s going to call for Doc. I shower quickly and change clothes. Shortly after, the door opens. I’m expecting Maggie, but first, I see Henry’s grim face, and then I see Ansel.

He’s got an arm slung over Henry, but he’s barely hanging on to him. Charles is on the other side and has Ansel’s other arm. Together, they’re carrying Ansel into the room.

My heart is beating uncontrollably now.

They lay Ansel down in the bed. Charles excuses himself. “I’ll see to it that you have plenty of liquids brought up to drink, and I’ll have some soup brought up to you soon, sir.”

“Ansel,” I sit beside him and try to hide the full force of fear that I’m feeling inside.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers.

I look up at Henry.

“He pushed too hard,” Henry says. “I tried to get him move things to the backburner, but - “

“He’s pig-headed,” I finish for him.

Henry looks over at Ansel. “I’m going to plead the fifth on that one. I might pay for it later.”

I half-wait for Ansel to crack a joke or make a silly retort, but he doesn’t. His eyes are closed and his chest is moving fast.

“Where’s Doc,” I say.

Henry tightens his lips.

“What is it?”

“He won’t see him,” Henry says quietly. “I don’t know how he did it in this state, but he intercepted me.”

“But Maggie - “

“He’s ordered everyone, all of us, not to send for him.”

“Well, he can’t order me.” I spring up from the bed.

“The hell I can,” Ansel says weakly, eyes still closed.

I bend down next to him at the side of the bed. “This is foolish, Ansel. Dangerous, even.”

“Karin.” He opens his eyes. “I just need to rest. It’s not been… a great day.” His voice comes out in a pant.

“I’m going to step out,” Henry says. “I won’t be far. Let me know if he needs anything.”

“Thank you,” I say, as Henry retreats from the room.

“I let you down,” Ansel says.

I take one of his hands in mine.

“I wasn’t able to help your father.”

“Oh,” I breathed. “Is that where you were today? Ansel, it’s - I’m just grateful you tried.”

“It may be worse than that, I think, I think I may have made it harder for you to get him - “ He stops to try and catch his breath.

“Whatever it is, just let it go for now. You can’t do anything about it like this. Just rest.”

He doesn’t have much choice. His body seems to finally give way, and it’s not long before he’s asleep.

I pace through the room, feeling helpless and scared. I’m so in my own head that I nearly crash into Maggie, as she brings in a tray of things for Ansel - some over-the-counter pills and syrups, a thermometer, a glass of juice, a mug of tea, a bowl of steaming soup, and a small loaf of bread.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I say.

“Phew,” Maggie says, catching her grip on the wobbling tray. “It’s alright.” Then, she notices Ansel is sleeping. “I’ll just set this down,” she says in a whisper, and places it on the table near the window.

“How is he,” she says quietly.

“Look at the way he’s breathing, Maggie.” I point to Ansel’s rapid-moving chest.

“You think it’s pneumonia,” Maggie asks.

“It reminds me -” I feel the tears forming in my eyes. “It reminds me of how sick he used to get. I don’t know what it was, but he looked so much like this.”

“We’ll keep a close eye out,” Maggie says. “And if he gets too bad, you can call Doc, no matter what he wants, but maybe things will be better tomorrow after he rests.”

“Maybe, I say,” watching Ansel’s chest rise and fall.

“Karin.” A small smile has formed on Maggie’s face. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you. Can we - step out into the hall for just a sec?”

“Of course.”

Maggie pulls me out into the hallway. Then she gives me a hug.

“What this for,” I say, surprised by her sudden embrace.

Maggie speaks in a quiet tone. “When Ansel promoted Henry, he also offered me a new position.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” I say, smiling. “Congratulations.”

What has she been promoted to? I’ll miss her company, but I don’t want to tell her.

“He wants you to have an extra layer of protection,” Maggie says.

“Me?”

“Well, duh,” Maggie laughs. “Keep it between just the two of us for now, but I’m that extra layer of security. I’ll still be your maid as well, so don’t worry about that.” She’s glowing with pride.

“Maggie! I don’t know what to say, I - well, I’ve seen you in action, and I think you’d give Ansel a run for his money.” I can’t help but giggle. Maggie’s radiating happiness and it spills into me.

It’s the last ray I feel for a while.

I prop up in bed next to Ansel and read. I try to focus on the book, but I obsessively scan Ansel’s forehead with the thermometer instead. Maggie brings my dinner to me in the room so I can stay with him. I manage to get some of it down, but I just pick at the rest.

When night falls, I toss and turn. Ansel’s been coughing, and he’s starting to moan and thrash in his sleep, twisting the blankets into a sweaty heap.

I know I shouldn’t, but I do it anyway.

I enter his dream.

In a blink, we’re standing outside. The land is dotted heavily with trees. It smells like rain and the ground is still wet.

I gasp. I know this moment.

“Please, Karin. Why are you doing this? You don’t have to do this.” I’m saying the words with Ansel, to my younger self. I’m watching her tear-streaked face try not to crumple, as she ignores him and tosses her bag into the car.

I’m feeling it all with Ansel, too - the confusion, the sickening thud in his stomach, as though he’d been kicked, the hurt, the tidal wave of disbelief, fear, and grief.

I’m mired in it, like a sticky bog, and I can’t get out. I want to stop it all, yank myself out enough to take control, and move the pieces of the dream in a way so that Ansel doesn’t have to relive it this way. I want to step out of it and embody my younger self, and tell Ansel what I should have told him then, that I love him.

I twist, and I pull, and I try to force my will onto the dream, but I can’t. I’m tied to Ansel’s mind and he’s so sick with emotion that we’re both drowning.

The younger me climbs into the car, shuts the door, and starts it.

“Don’t go,” he says, and I feel his hot tears on my cheeks.

The girl I was doesn’t look back. She doesn’t glance in the mirrors or wait another second. She begins to drive away.

Ansel stands rooted to the earth, his heart is pounding, and he feels like vomiting. Then, he takes off in a run after the car.

“Stop,” he yells, racing through the muddy lane. His feet lose traction and he slips into the oozing mud. He’s covered. His white shirt ruined. And the car is disappearing from sight.

“Please,” Ansel says, voice trembling. My heart is broken into two as I realize he’s praying softly to the Moon Goddess. “I will do anything to see her again. Please, even if it means ten years of my life. I have to see her again.”

The nineteen year-old boy sobs alone. No goddess comes.

I wake up. My face, and even the top edges of my nightgown, are wet. I struggle to think. My thoughts are stuck in a fog. All I can see is Ansel, covered in mud and tears. All I can feel is his heart shattering. My body is like lead. Entering into a dream always takes a great amount of my energy, but I’ve never felt this exhausted, this lost.

Something stirs inside me. Another force comes through. Ada.

She does what I cannot do.

Ada uses her mouth to straighten Ansel’s blankets. She curls next to him to keep him warm as he shivers with fever, and she syncs with Jeff, something I’ve never been able to fully experience before.

She nuzzles him, his yellow snout, the top of his head. They don’t speak in words. They’re connected much deeper than that. Their heartbeats find the same rhythm, slow and steady now.

I’m somewhere inside. Ada stays pressed against Ansel and synced psychically to Jeff, and her calm melts into me.

I’ve been afraid of you, Ada.

The realization hits me so hard that I’m instantly in tears.

I’ve been afraid of your power. Your emotion. Your ferocity.

Ada listens. I think she’s long known.

I feel her spirit with clarity.

But you are good.

She’s good. She’s not a force to tie down, to keep in check.

I vow to learn how to do this. Learn how to continue to release my fear of her power - our power. My deep fear of ego extinction and submission.

How do we not just coexist? How do we become an integrated whole?