Page 9 of Guiding Reason

“Guardians don’t normally do that when they imprint.”

Hyran looked away, looked out the window. Last Col remembered, it had been daytime. Early evening. Now, only the faint glow of the city was shimmering through the semi-opaque setting of the glass.

“We should talk. As soon as possible. You are still recovering, of course.” Hyran stood and walked to the table. Col remembered the bags Hyran had put there, but it looked like he’d unpacked at some point. “I brought you a selection of toiletries. Also sweet nut candies and sorono hummus with three-color crackers with a small selection of fruit. Oh, and sweet Kiki Tea.”

Col’s stomach rumbled as if on cue. It was embarrassing, but Col was too desperate to brush his teeth, too desperate for food to really care. And yet.

“Kiki Tea? The last time I had that I was in Year Nine.”

Hyran shrugged. “The white flower flavor isn’t too bad. I can get you—I can have someone get you something else.”

Col sighed. “I want a shower and to brush my teeth, and then I want the sorono, all of it. By the way, why did you get sorono hummus with crackers?”

Hyran picked out some of the toiletries. “I asked the butler bot, the one in your suite in the Champions’ Tower. It mentioned this had been your late-night snack, and I figured you might want it. Last time I was concussed, I was craving food after the hyperdecarin. Do you need help?”

“Help showering?” Col sat up and let his legs dangle off the bed while black spots danced across his retinas like Taros after too many drinks. “I don’t think so, Guardian.”

Hyran bristled. Col felt almost bad.

“I understand. I can call a nurse bot if you don’t want me.”

The Guardian’s voice was flat, and for that, Col did feel bad. He knew, rationally, that he should. He also knew that Hyran hadn’t chosen this either.

So many things I didn’t choose. To be here, for one.

“I will be fine, Hyran. It’s just a shower.”

Col slid off the bed. His feet hitting the ground sent a jolt of pain through him, and he winced.

Hyran was there immediately, an arm around Col’s middle.

“What? I can get a physician. Come on, lie back down.”

Col shook his head. “No. It’s just my feet.”

He looked at them. So did Hyran. Col was wearing warm clinic socks, the kind with non-slip soles.

“Did you hurt anything down there?”

Col smirked. “I don’t think I did. But seeing myself dressed in those socks gave me a shock. You stopped me from falling to my death, but you didn’t stop them from putting these on me?”

If it had been Taros, Karmine, or Senlas, they would have laughed. Vin would have told Col not to be stupid and would have proceeded to get in the shower with him. Hyran was not them, and he looked confused.

“I’ll get the physician to see if you’ve had enough of your concussion meds. Please lie back down.”

“The fuck you will.”

“Excuse me?”

Col grabbed the rolling IV holder thing and pulled it toward him. He’d lean on that if things got too bad. “I said the fuck you will. In Argentea, that means no. Give me that soap.”

“But you’re—”

“Filthy, and I don’t like it.” With the pretense of energy he didn’t have, Col made his way to the bathroom. Hyran stuck to his side. He wanted to turn his head toward the Guardian, but he was hurting too much, so he spoke without looking at Hyran. “Where’s my team?”

“One of them’s outside. Taros. The others are back at the Champions’ Tower. Getting rest, I assume. Sleeping. It’s the middle of the night.”

“Yes, of course.”How long was I even out for? I hate being medicated.