Page 30 of Lost and Bound

On the way, I get a ping on my device, but I don’t stop to read it out in the open. As soon as I get to the front of the building, I stop dead in my tracks. The glass section of the door has been fixed, and it’s not hanging at an angle anymore. It’s still not locked, but it’s a darn sight better than it was.

I push it open, return it to how I found it, then make my way up the stairs. On my level, I halt for the second time in as many minutes. Outside my door are two large, very old chests.

Given the welcome I’ve had since I arrived at Thales, it feels like a setup. As I move closer to my room, it’s easy to see that my door is open and someone is inside. I dig out my device and open the messaging app, shifting to where my chat with Orion is ready and waiting in case I need to call him for backup.

I don’t send anything off just yet, instead I make plenty of noise, announcing my presence, causing the man to turn around.

“Miss. Ellis?”

I take in the work overalls with the academy logo, but disguises are easy, so I stay where I am, nodding to confirm my identity.

“I’m Rodderick, and I work in maintenance. I didn’t get as much done as I wanted, but at least the window’s fixed and the door has a lock.” He points out his handiwork while I study him carefully.

When he leaves what he’s doing and comes toward me with an awareness that lets me know he’s reading my reservations for what they are, something in me relaxes.

Orion’s warning about touching others resurfaces, along with a feeling that I can trust Rodderick. The middle ground of keeping myself safe and being friendly is leaning against the door and introducing myself. “It’s Maya.”

He moves closer, and when he does, I get a better view of him and what he’s achieved.

“I hope you didn’t have to drop what you were doing to come and fix this.”

“Ah,” Rodderick says, wiping his hands on a rag he’s got tucked into his back pocket. “Between you and me, Maya, I’d much prefer to be working down this way.”

There’s a lot to read between the lines, and when he doesn’t explain further, it only feeds my suspicions more that Rodderick, maybe even all the staff at Thales, have had similar experiences to what I have with the other beings here. I’m making assumptions, but I think people with shadows and strength in their eyes know a kindred spirit.

“Did you bring these too?” I say, pointing back at the old tea chests. Now I’m not freaking out as much, I can make out details including the very old and blackened leather straps, the tarnished brass studs, and worn padlocks.

“I did.”

I run my finger across the top of one, and a small buzz of energy courses up it. Although I might have imagined it, given how mystical they look. “Where did they come from?”

“Seems the same place this did,” he says, passing over a thick envelope with my name printed on the front.

Like with the boxes, I trace my finger over the paper, and a small buzz races up as I follow the loops of the calligraphy print of my name on the front. On the back, I’m not really surprised to find a wax seal on it; it’s got that whole vibe going on.

I crack the seal to open the envelope, pulling out a note and a key, which looks suspiciously like it matches the locks on the chests. The note isn’t signed.

Please accept these few things as you get settled. If you need anything specific, let me know. Considering the note isn’t signed, I’m not sure how that’s possible.

“Shall I help you put them in your room?” he asks.

“Yes, please.”

Rodderick takes one side as I take the other, and we shuffle our way into my room, setting both trunks just inside the door. They’re so heavy, I swear they weigh a ton, and choosing the place they sit is very calculated; it will make dragging them to block the door so much easier.

“I’ll get out of your hair,” Rodderick says as soon as the second one is in place.

While he collects his things, I see his handiwork. My bathroom is gleaming—well, compared to how it was—and the window is not only fixed, but a curtain has also been installed.

He must have worked here all day.

“This is amazing, Rodderick. Thank you so much.”

He blazes pink under my gratitude, and I wonder if anyone has ever thanked him for his help, or his time, before.

“Of course.”

As I help him gather the rest of his things, stacking them in his toolbox, a random, vivid memory of doing the same with my dad strikes. I miss him so much. Then an idea hits me. “Do you have a workshop here?”