Page 60 of Inextricably Tied

One of Agony’s eyes cracks open. “Not if you keep interrupting.”

“She’s been asleep for two hours,” Harbinger hisses. “If it hasn’t happened by now…”

Flint shushes them. Herald rolls over but doesn’t wake. Once her breathing evens again, Agony hones all his attention on her. Not a blip for him to grab onto. No dreams. Not even a hypnic jerk.

“Nothing.” Agony leans back against the wall. “I’ve got no idea what she’s dreaming about.”

“She should be in REM by now, yeah?” Harbinger checks the timer. Herald starts to snore. A nagging feeling eats in the back of Agony’s mind, frustration he’s never had to contend with.

Flint moves out of the doorway. “Maybe she’ll have something when she wakes up. We can check back in a bit.”

They move to the lounge to wait. Flint finds a deck of cards and offers to teach them a game he and Sidi used to play. There’s that feeling again, the warmth that sparks in Agony as soon as Flint mentions her name. Flint catches him staring; Agony tries to bury it behind the cards in his hand.

He picks up the rules quickly. Flint swears he’s cheating. Harbinger actually is, but they’ve just discovered her secret stash of cards when Herald’s timer chimes.

She’s upright in bed as they enter. A notebook lays open in her lap, full of scrawls and scribbles, diagrams and drawings. Her fingers rub over a pearly blue stone, waiting until Harbinger breaks the silence.

“So…did you see anything?”

“Yes.” There’s a smug sense of satisfaction as Herald says the word, turning her notebook to face them. They lean over the page for a long moment.

“It’s…” Agony blinks. “It’s illegible scribbles, right? That’s what we’re all seeing?”

Flint clears his throat. “It’s…”

But Herald isn’t offended. “This is your Reid.” She circles a shape with her finger, pronounced in the center. “And these…” She taps the smaller identical sticks at the base of the drawing. “Are his greatest desires.”

Harbinger’s eyes narrow. Agony glances at Flint. Finally, Flint asks the question. “…what are they? His desires.”

“Followers.” Herald gestures, as if it should be obvious. “It’s his greatest goal, to build a community that worships him. Acolytes that share his ideals.”

“Okay,” drawls Harbinger. “Is that it? You saw what he wants to do? What about the girls?”

“I do not choose which threads to follow.”

Harbinger groans.

Agony leans over the paper. “What is that over them? Is that a giant leaf? Are they fanning him?”

Herald gestures to the drawing again. “The Oracle provides what is needed. You will find the answers you need here, so say the Oracle.”

“Except we didn’t,” Harbinger snaps.

Flint mutters her name under his breath. “Thank you for sharing what you saw,” he tempers. “But is there any chance you can go back? Have another dream? Maybe there’s more to it than we understand right now.”

“I can try.” With a flip of her notebook, Herald sinks beneath the sheets, immediately back to business.

They wait through another cycle. And another, until Harbinger begins to nod off as sunlight peeks through the windows. The vision is always the same: Reid standing above his desired groupies. No girls. No location. Just crude stick figures.

“This is what the Oracle wants you to see.” By this point, Herald’s irritated. “Perhaps it is not what you seek, but it is what you need. This dream comes to me over and over. It’s clearly important.”

“Well. Thanks.” Harbinger’s lip curls. “We’ll keep it in mind.”

Flint sounds more sincere. “Thank you. Is it all right if I keep the picture? Just in case?”

Herald tears the page from her notebook before she escorts them out the door. It closes a little harder than necessary.

Harbinger’s fists ball at her sides. “What the fuck? What are we supposed to do with that?”