Day 58: Intercom, Dawn
Dawn broke with the hustle and bustle of staff, uniformed men and women moving to and fro to wake patients from their slumber. Those who managed to slip through their watchful eyes and gain an extra minute or two of shuteye were soon rudely awakened by a rather enthusiastic man with a Western accent
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The thought brought him more wide awake and he sat up. Then blinked down at himself in utter confusion. Hell’s Fire, what was he wearing now? Granted, the demented smiley was missing - thank the Darkness for that - but now he was in some sort of uniform. Military? Not that he’d ever worn such a thing before, but it had the look of one. What had happened in the span of time since breakfast, that there were unfamiliar voices babbling about soldiers and opportunities - sounding far too chipper for this early in the day, for that matter - and that he’d suddenly sprouted a new outfit?
Automatically reaching out to reassure himself - habit, second nature now - Daemon froze in the process of swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His probe of the psychic webs came back with no response. Nothing. An empty vastness echoing around him. There was no comforting pulse from the Ebon-Grey, or the Grey, or any other jewel for that matter. No familiar feel of Lucivar elsewhere in this prison. He couldn’t feel Lia or Karla or Rainier. He tried again, mentally reaching out farther for anything familiar, forcing himself to calm. There must be an explanation for this, and there was no use panicking until he found out what it was.
Perhaps he’d strayed too closely to truths this place wished to remain hidden. What he’d seen in a Tangled Web had given him a direction, and he’d shared that with the others. Had this place now found a way to keep them from finding one another, sensing one another? Just because he couldn’t feel the others didn’t mean they were gone. He’d never heard of so many going missing at once in his time here.
Reassuring himself with a confidence he didn’t entirely feel, Daemon got to his feet and was already waiting to go when an unfamiliar nurse showed up to escort him to breakfast. He would find his companions there, if they could still be found. And he would watch and listen and hopefully figure out what the hell was going on. The nurse ignored his scowl as she prattled on about how he was doing so much better now and it was good to see him up and around again. What that meant, he had no idea. He had no recollection of being ill. But did that explain his missing time? Or any of the other things that weren’t adding up?
His temper fraying, Daemon curled his fingers into fists at his side. Leash it, Bastard, he reminded himself since, for the moment, his brother wasn’t here to do it for him. Unfortunately, the thought made his temper worse, not better. Golden eyes glinted as he followed the woman out into the hall, leaving his room behind.
If his nurse noticed the frost on the door handle as they passed, she was wise enough not to mention it.
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