| Phase 34 Sig howled. Bart tried to hit me, but as long as I kept my arms stiff, he was mostly immobile. Then he found my weak spot and bent over, lifting my feet off the floor. I shrieked and struggled, but it was no use. I kicked at the back of his knees, but missed. He caught my ankles and straightened up, leaving my helpless (I could�ve pulled his hair, but we�d made an agreement after we�d nearly ripped each other�s scalp off to not pull hair, no matter what). I drew my arms out of the jacket and squiggled down out of it. Placing my hands on the floor, I pushed myself up into a handstand. Bart did a weird forward roll and his face went right into my stomach. I managed to keep from falling easily enough, but it hurt. � You okay?� I snorted. � Oh, I�m just having a grand old time!� � Well excu~use me for being concerned!� His slight movement overbalanced me and I started to fall. I knew I couldn�t catch myself, so I lifted one hand and pivoted one-hundred-eighty degrees, slamming down onto my back to protect him. He oomphed and let out a pained groan. My vision blackened as the wind was knocked out of me. I gasped to regain my breath, slowly registering the excruciating pain in my left arm. I straightened it carefully, then drew it to my chest and cradled it there as I tried desperately to keep from crying. Sig was not sympathetic. � How many times have I told you two that you�re too old to wrestle and not get hurt?� Bart lifted himself to his hands and knees, but his arm gave out and he crashed down onto me again, only higher. I grunted at his weight and pulled my arm up so that it was touching my chin. � Damn . . .� Bart trailed. He got up again, minus his right arm. He held it in the air like a dog would hold up an injured leg and pushed himself to his feet. He tottered unsteadily, then looked down at me. � C�mon, Kris.� I groaned and shook my head. � Just let me die.� Sig crouched down and pulled me to my feet, holding me until I stood on my own. � You two get down to sickbay. Now.� Bart tapped the back of my right shoulder with his left. � Let�s go, Kris.� As we got on the elevator, Bart turned to me. � Why did you do that?� � Do what?� I asked, clutching my arm against my stomach. � Protect me.� � Because I�m expendable.� He blinked, then looked at me dangerously. � You�re what?� I rolled my eyes. � Princeling, if I hadn�t done that, Sig would�ve gotten even angrier at me than he was. Remember, you�re a prince. You can�t show up in front of Aveh with crutches and a black eye, can you?� � But I weigh more than you! I nearly crushed you!� � Don�t exaggerate. My ribs aren�t even cracked.� � That�s because most of my weight was on your legs! I could�ve killed you!� � I don�t think forty-three pounds extra is going to kill me.� � But initially it�s more like fifty-five pounds because of gravity! I could�ve killed you!� he repeated. � Bart, it�s o-kay,� I told him. � I�m still alive.� � But you�re hurt!� � And you aren�t?� �. . .� � That�s what I thought.� We went to the sickbay and I stood near Fei, out of Elly�s line of sight to offer her some privacy. My brother seemed to be doing well and I predicted that he would wake up soon. Elly whipped around. � Really?!� I pulled back, realizing only then that I�d spoken out loud. � . . . Yes.� � How can you tell?� I tapped the side of my head. � His brain activity has increased a little. It�s about half it�s normal rate. I�d say another day or two if nothing drastic happens.� She smiled. � Thank you, Kris.� � What for?� � For the good news.� She could be really weird sometimes. I shrugged. � It�s no big deal. He is my brother.� The nurse accidentally bumped my wrist as she fit a blue brace on it. � Ow!� � Sorry,� was the quick apology. She laced the thing together and tied it off on the underside of my arm near my elbow. � Your wrist is sprained. Keep it in this brace for the rest of the week and don�t remove it or you�ll hurt yourself even worse than before.� � What if it starts to swell?� � Put some ice on it. But leave the brace on.� � Okay, okay. This stinks.� I followed Bart out of the sickbay and back to the bridge. Sig turned and frowned. � What are you two doing back up here?� He pointed at the floor. � To your rooms.� Our jaws dropped. � Are you grounding us?� Bart asked. � Yes, I am.� � What?!� � What are you waiting for? Go to your rooms.� Bart threw a small temper tantrum right there in the doorway. � I don�t believe this! I�m too old to be grounded!� � You�re never too old to be grounded as long as you continue to wrestle when you�re too old to do it. Go.� � But---� � Go!� Sig roared. Bart went. I sighed in defeat and began to follow. � Kris.� � Yeah?� � Go to your own room, understand?� I rolled my eyes. � Yes, I understand.� � And tell Bartholomew to stay in his.� � Fine.� � And don�t talk.� � All right!� I shouted. � I get it! God!� Sig lifted an eyebrow. � Do you think your punishment is unjust?� I gave a derisive snort. � My opinion has never mattered to anyone before. Why should it now?� *>*<* Sigurd blinked as the door shut and Kris disappeared from sight. �What do you mean, Wind? Your opinion has always mattered. Why do you now think that it doesn�t?� <Because you and everybody else have been taking her for granted,> that hateful part of him replied. <You didn�t do that in Solaris because you thought she was an amazing human being to be able to be an Element at four years of age. Has the magic of that worn off or something?> �This is a matter of discipline!� <Yeah, right. Go ahead and hide behind that reason if you like. They didn�t hurt themselves that badly and they didn�t involve anyone else. She even took all the impact when really, she would�ve been crushed under his greater weight. But were you thankful to her for thinking about him first? No. You scolded them and then grounded them. Some reward.> �Shut up.� <Why? Because I�m right?> �. . .� <She�s going to run away again if you keep this up. Oh, by the way, did you ever tell him that it was partially your fault she ran off the first time? That you�d just asked too much of her at her age? That you�d overwhelmed her with work?> �Shut up!� <Why don�t you just admit it? You feel guilty that they got hurt because you let them wrestle.> �What do you care?!� <I�m their defense. They won�t fight back because they see you as an authority and they�d rather just do as you want instead of cause a stir.> �Then what was Bartholomew doing?� <Testing you. Waiting to see if you�d force them to their rooms. Once he saw that you were ready to do that he backed off, didn�t he? Didn�t he?> � . . . Yes . . .� <See? You know, I think you�re jealous.> �Jealous?! Of who?!� <Him. He has her. The one you�re after is stuck in the prison block because she�s the enemy. Have you even bothered to check on her recently?> �Levex gives her her meals.� <Isolation?> �It�ll make her talk.� <. . .> �Now what? Lost your train of thought?� <Actually, I�m worried about Kris. She looked so depressed and she�s trapped in her room alone with her knives . . .> Sigurd gasped and ran from the bridge. *>*<* I flopped on my bed. Man, this sucks. You said it. I mean, what did we do that was more dangerous than before? Beats me. I began to play with my knives, balancing them by their tip on my finger. So what do you think we should do? Spread sand on his sheets? That sounded pretty cool. No! I meant in the meantime! Oh. Uh . . . Sleep? . . . Good idea. Roger. Logging off. There was a pause in case I had anything more to say, but when I didn�t, his mind closed off and left me alone. I twirled the knives around even as I got sleepy. The door opened and Matik entered and jumped onto my bed. � What are you doing here?� I was sent to keep you company, since Devon is still in the other room. � Why didn�t she come?� She was sleeping. I was awake. It was less trouble to send me. To make it worth his while, since he was so obviously attracted to Devon, I stroked the red dragon and scratched under his chin and around his wings and behind his ears and all those other itchy spots on dragons. Then I gave him a massage, which consisted of little more than petting his fur the correct way. I felt the hard scales under the fur and patted him. � You want a bath?� When? � I don�t know. Sometime soon.� Do I smell bad? � No. I just thought you would. A lot of dragons do.� I love baths! � Good. Next time I give Devon a bath, I�ll let you know.� You�ll let me bathe with Devon? � Is that against dragon etiquette?� . . . Not that I know of. Would Devon mind? � I wouldn�t think so.� Do you love my human? I started at the abrupt subject change. � . . . Yes.� Would you let him breed you? What an odd question. But for dragons sex was marriage; they paired for life unless bonded to humans who didn�t marry. � If he asks, I suppose. Why?� I like you. I don�t want him to breed anyone else. I laughed. � How do you know you won�t like that someone else better?� Because I like you best! I rubbed his head. � Thanks for the vote of confidence.� *>*<* Sigurd burst into Kris� room and frantically looked in the direction of her bed. A familiar knife lay on the floor beside a growing puddle of blood and above them was an arm with a partially slit wrist. He blinked stupidly for a moment, trying to comprehend what he was seeing. � Kris?� He rushed over and knelt by the bed, almost panicked into hysterics. � Kris?! Kris!� <--Phase 33 Phase 35--> |