Oh, no... they’ll put me back in stasis! She didn’t have time for an emotional reunion. She needed to think. But wait... Tell me if it’s time. Because if it was, then she’d prepare herself for a fight. If not, she’d—Caro swallowed—she’d allow them to return her to rehabilitation.
It’s past time, angel. I’ve been looking for you all week.
She frowned. That’s not a very long time, Sethios.
You have no idea.
Rather than correct him, she focused on what his words meant. I can free myself. She didn’t need to go back.
You can?
She didn’t understand his question until she realized what she’d said. I mean, I’m allowed to free myself.
So she needed to work on her strength, which was a problem in this pod. Her limbs were thin and unused, her body incapable of misting with all the enchantments surrounding her in this equivocal tomb.
Her lips pursed as she considered what to do. Then an odd sort of tingling began in her lower leg, a warmth she hadn’t experienced before. She investigated it with her mind, trying to determine the source and its purpose.
Half a beat later, she gasped. I’m healing myself.
What do you mean? Sethios asked. What needs to be healed?
My body. My muscles are all nonexistent from having lain here for... how long was I here?
It’s been almost eighteen years since Osiris found us, he whispered.
Oh. That explained her physical condition. Although, she couldn’t remember how or when the Seraphim had found her.
She wasn’t going to waste precious seconds now trying to recall it. Caro needed to heal and prepare for what came next because the moment they realized she was awake, they would return to subdue her once more, and she needed to be ready.
How are you healing yourself, angel?
My dormant power, she breathed. It seems to have finally come to life.
The one the Fates said you would eventually need?
Yes. She’d once told him the story about her lineage, how the Fates always chose a pairing based on the potential powers of the progeny. They’d predicted she would one day need to know how to heal. Whether it’d been for this purpose or another remained to be seen.
Why would they help you when they’re the reason you’re in rehabilitation?
The council is the reason for my current situation, not the Fates, she replied, her focus divided between speaking and healing. The Fates merely predict. The council chooses what to interpret and how to interpret it.
She wiggled her toes, the action shooting spikes up her legs and causing her to wince. Not a great sensation, but it implied her gift was working as expected.
How clever of the Fates to allow her this small defense. Did that mean they favored the outcome of her escape? Were they playing a game of their own?
Caro’s brow furrowed as she considered what it could mean. They were essentially owned by the council, their hive mind one very few Seraphim were allowed to touch. She’d never considered what that meant for their existence until this very moment. Perhaps they despised the method by which they were used. Yet that would imply some manner of feeling, which didn’t exist within this world.
Shaking her head, she decided to ponder it another day and put all her mental effort into expediting her healing because the beeps were growing more rapid outside her glass prison.
She couldn’t see well, the darkness of the room around her glass tomb void of any external lights. However, her enhanced sight allowed her to see just enough in the dark to understand her surroundings.
It was a smaller room with one door, her pod, a series of machines, and nothing else. Not even a chair.
She’d never been inside the rehabilitation center, but she imagined this was similar to where the ancients slept. Small, neat quarters with equipment meant to pump nutrients into the body to keep it well nourished.
What they didn’t do was aid the body in physical recovery. However, that wasn’t really necessary with how quickly Seraphim could regenerate.
Angel?
