“I see your measly five,” Kaye taunted, the joy in her voice almost swallowed by the worry. “And I raise you to a…”

She hesitated, looking at me over the fan of her playing cards with one of her eyebrows raised so high that it almost got lost in the fringe of her curly hair.

Almost.

“Ten!” She spouted the word as loud as she dared before slamming the card onto the pile on the bed between us,

The quizzical taunt was replaced by malicious laughter as she leaned back against the headboard, careful to avoid the ankle that was still locked in its restraint.

It was the only one I hadn’t been able to unlock today.

Every few minutes I would try to bring up enough strength, to call on enough power, to unlock it, but it didn’t budge. It couldn’t break through the fog. I didn't have the strength.

In many ways, it didn’t matter. Even with the lone restraint I was still able to shift my weight and bend my joints, which was already better than the days I couldn’t unlock any and Kaye and Katenka would rub my back and joints in a hope of getting my blood to flow and the bones to heal.  It was happening more frequently the longer Nastya’s torturous experiments went on. Now in the fifth month, I would find myself able to move freely about twice a week, if I was lucky.

Today, we got to play this ridiculous game that Kaye had created when she was five.

I wasn’t sure I had the strength to walk anyway.

“Don’t that card change the rules?”  I asked, my voice slightly slurred as my tongue struggled to keep up.

Thankfully Kaye ignored it, not even a shadow of sympathy crossed her face.

“Yep! Now you are catching on,” She smiled brightly and leaned over toward me, trying to sneak a peek at my cards for probably the third time in the last fifteen minutes.

“Hey!” I teased, my own laugh bursting out, only to be replaced by a wince as I tried to move my cards away from her.

The motion too fast for the still healing shoulder, the skin still covered by one massive bruise. Although my magic was healing, it was slower than it had been. Removing and replacing limbs would do that.

Luckily I had been unconscious for that experiment. I hadn’t in the past.

“Here,” Katenka whispered from beside me, her face full of the worry that Kaye was trying so hard to hide.

Her sad eyes never left mine as she handed me a styrofoam cup filled with the powdered fruit drink that had replaced orange juice in the SSU a few months ago. While it never filled the same need that the orange juice had, I was grateful for it. I was grateful for these women, who would sneak sandwiches and Tang into my room every day. It was more than the single glass of water and bowl of liquified oatmeal the guards provided.

“I’m pretty sure looking at my cards isn’t part of the rules, Kaye,” I scolded, refusing to draw more attention to my shoulder than Katenka already had. “Last time we only switched two cards from each other's hands.”

“Oh, yeah…” Kaye said, her voice filled with a laugh as she settled back into her spot, still glancing at me over the top of her cards.

It had been almost eight years since they had first found me, since Prague had fallen, and everything in the world had twisted upside down. Time had been a blur since then, a massive mess filled with haunting dreams, time lost to comas and transplanted hearts, and dreams. So many beautiful dreams.

In all the time that I had lost, however, in all the hell that I had been dragged through one thing remained consistent.   

Beyond my dreams and passion, and need to find Joclyn. Kaye kept me going.

Kaye filled everything with just a little more light.

“I think I am going to change that rule,” She said, her voice still promising joy as she put her hand face down on the stained mattress. “We are going to shuffle our hands and re-deal them.”

“I am pretty sure you can’t do that,” my voice was full of warning as I moved my cards away, holding them protectively. I wasn’t about to give them up that easily. I had two kings, you only needed three to win the game. Unless she decided to change that rule, too. You could never be too sure with whatever Kaye had created here.

“I’m pretty sure I can,” she teased right back, “I’m older than you after all.”

“Appearances don’t count,” I teased, tucking my cards underneath my still restrained leg so she couldn’t get at them. “You are only twenty-five, yes? I am fairly certain that I am quite a bit older than you. Unless you have memories from Napoleon's journey across Europe that you would like to share.”

“Immortality doesn’t count then, Jan,” A smug smile stretched across her face at that, two prods for the price of one.

She knew which one was going to bug me more.

“That’s not my name.” Her smile only grew at my growl.

“Whatever you say, Ivan.”

“Not my name either,” I said the words even though I knew full well I had no way of knowing. Ivan very well could be my name, something was familiar about it.

“Denyksa?”

“No.”

Katenka chuckled beside us as she checked my blood pressure again, the action one I was growing used to. There was only Dr. Sirko left in this place, but from what they had said he was locked in his room unless he was needed, and the poor old man had turned to drink in his solitude. The imprisonment slowly driving him mad.

This meant that Katenka was the only one with any medical knowledge in this place, and she had taken it upon herself to make sure, to put it bluntly, that I didn’t die.

“Well,” Kaye said, a bright light sparking behind the worry in her eyes. “Tell me when you figure it out, won't you. I’d love to meet you.”

“You already have met me,” I teased, all intent of a game having left. “I’m sitting right here.”

“You know what I mean,” she said, fingers fiddling with an uneven chunk of hair as she leaned back against the headboard. “Years from now you are going to show up at my door and introduce yourself clear as day and for all I know you’ll be selling me vacuums, or religion, or something. I won’t even know who you are!”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Kaye’s mother scolded, the under her breath response all-but-ignored it happened so often.

“I’m pretty sure you will recognize me, Kaye,” I said through a wince as Katenka began pressing on bones in my back and shoulder in an attempt to make sure they had all healed in the right place.

She looked at me with concern, but I shook her off. Last week she had to reset my knee to get everything aligned. It was a great learning experience for Kaye, not so much for me. This pain I could take.

“You have no way of knowing that,” Kaye continued, ready to continue down her assumed future. “I will be an old lady and you... you are going to look exactly the same. Probably have that same long hair you came in with.”

“See,” I said,  my own smile spreading at the corner she had walked herself into. “How could you not recognize me. If my rugged looks never change then there is no way you will forget me. Even if I am selling vacuums.”

“There is no way I could forget you anyway.”

The laughter drained from the room at her words. A heavy sorrow dripped from her, infecting the air and swirling over hearts and heads until everybody felt it. Everybody was drowning it.

It was hard to keep the desperation out once it escaped. It was hard not to feel hopeless.

This time, however, everything felt different

Swirling over that sorrow there was a feeling of hope that I was not sure I had felt in weeks. It lined her words, it shone from her eyes.

Hope that we would escape. Hope that there was something after this and that I could knock on her door and sell her a vacuum.

But more, than that, there was a promise, a promise that no matter what happened, I would live on. That we all would.

“I will never forget you, Kaye,” I whispered, extending my hand toward her.

Her lips turned up into a careful smile as her hand wrapped around mine, her skin warm and soft. We sat like that for a moment, eyes locked together in a million silent promises before our hands fell, the loss of contact leaving my hand feeling cold, my heart aching.

I wasn’t sure if it was for her, for another, or simply for the life that would follow.

“Now,” she announced as she went back to her cards as though the last few minutes hadn’t happened. “Give me your cards.”

“That’s not the rules, Kaye,” I groaned, pulling my cards out from under my leg, already knowing I didn’t have another choice.

“Yes, well, if you remembered any games from your childhood we wouldn’t have this problem.” She smiled brightly, I glowered darkly, and Katenka just sighed, obviously not interested in revisiting this discussion with us.

“Well,” She began, pulling the conversation from her daughters' control, the latter just smiled brightly and leaned against the footboard. “Everything from your arm seems to be in place, although I can’t attest to the internal workings. And you say you still don’t have full mobility?”

I only shook my head no, I didn’t really want to revisit it. Nor did I want to attempt to lift it again, the pain was almost too much.

“Well,” she said with a sigh, looking away from me. It was one of her usual tells that she was about to say something uncomfortable. “Your healing has been slowing down lately. I know they were testing a new combination of drugs, to see if your…”

She stalled, and Kaye smiled knowingly.

“Magic,” she provided. Her mother only cringed.

“...if your power can be prodded differently.”

Pressing my lips into a tight line I nodded once, this wasn’t new information. They had been refining drugs and mixtures for years. None of us saw it ending anytime soon. Katenka sighed, moving to clean and gather the last of the instruments.

“I have to go before they realize I’m gone,” Katenka said, filling the tiny cup with more fluid before handing it to me.

The juice container went to Kaye who jumped up and went to place it in the little nest she had built in into the bottom of my wardrobe. She slept there most nights, curled up like a kitten. Both of them were too scared to leave me alone for long, and after we realized the closet had been all but abandoned as most of the medical staff escaped or were removed, it created the perfect opportunity.

She tucked it safely behind the door and returned to her spot on the bed, this time stretching out her legs so that her feet were near my waist.

“I wouldn’t sit up for much longer, Jan, there is some bruising on the base of your neck that…”

“I’ve got this mom,” Kaye interrupted, her voice having been stripped of all the playfulness from before. She was all business now. The girl with the stifled childhood had gone, replaced by the powerful woman that she was now.

Katenka nodded in understanding, gave us both a sad smile that didn’t reach her eyes and began to shuffle towards the door.

“Thank you,” I whispered as she gave me one last look, the sadness in her eyes breaking my heart.

She said nothing before she was gone, the faint click of a lock sounding behind her as she spoke to the guard, their quick Ukrainian mostly indistinguishable through the heavy wood.

“Do you want to lay down now or later?” Kaye asked, the bed rattling as she moved toward me, already knowing the answer.

I only gave her a smile as she kneeled next to me, hands stable as she helped me shift and shimmy back down to my back. I tried not to wince, I tried not to let the pain show - but everything hurt. Everything ached. My shoulder felt like it had caught fire with even the slightest motion, an intense line of pain shooting through my bones.

I could feel my magic try to rise to meet it, try to heal it, but it was all so slow that it couldn't break through whatever drug they had me on.

Not enough.

Sinking into the hard indentation of the mattress, the fabric settled around me like a cushion, the groan that escaped me neither from mattress nor pain.

“I’ll put the restraints back on if you fall asleep,” Kaye whispered as she lay down beside me, curling up against the rail and as far from me as she could.

She had tried to curl up closer once, but my distaste and subsequent explanation had stopped that in its tracks. She hadn’t tried since.

“Tell me about that abbey place,” she whispered, her voice barely breaking through the relaxed fog that I was drifting into. “The one where that fight was.”

“Are you still trying to find it?” I asked, turning my head to look at her, I didn’t even try to restrain the gasp of pain that time, it hurt that much.

“I’m always trying to find everything, Jan.” She said, curling her hands underneath her chin in an effort to get comfortable. I would have offered her a pillow, but they took that away long ago. “I found Joclyn, I can find you. And then we can get you home.”

“Or you could just leave without me.”

She glared at the suggestion. It wasn’t the first time I had mentioned it, and although she refused every time, she was slowly wearing down. She was slowly realizing, just as I was, that I wasn’t a good enough reason for her and her mother to stay here.

“I  know,” she finally admitted, the words not hurting as much as I expected them too. “But I am not going to just leave you here unless I have no other choice. Things aren’t bad enough to justify that.”

“I would have to say otherwise,” I said with a grunt, instantly regretting moving my arm so as to emphasize the point.

“They are bad for you, which is why I am not leaving.” She placed her hand flat on the bed between us, a clear invitation for contact, for comfort, but right then I didn’t need it.

I would stubbornly take it on my own if it meant she would see reason and leave.

“You live in walls, Kaye,” I whispered, letting my focus drift toward the ceiling.

The motion was not missed and she pulled her hand back, curling it back under her chin.

“Not for long.” She said after a moment, the admission pulling my focus right to her. “Everything is in place, I got a job on the second floor. In receiving.”

She swallowed, something was there that I wasn’t quite following. The drugs may make it hard to think, but it didn’t make it impossible. A second too late it dawned on me just what she was saying.   

“No more late night visits?” It sounded so weird when I said it like that and I could feel my soul pull away from the phrasing.

I cringed, but she only chuckled, the sound like a tinkling bell in the dark.

“Not as many, no,” she hesitated, “but it puts me closer to an escape….”

“If one comes, Kaye, you need to take it,” I announced cutting her off, wincing again as I attempted to move up in my eagerness. “You need too…”

“I will,” she wrapped her hand around mine, her eyes filling with tears. “I promise I will. But more than that, I am going to fight back.”

“I’m going to make them hurt.”

I had nothing I could say in return. Because, I had nothing I wanted more.