A MAN WITH NO HOME
Tell me, sweet stranger, do you know the story of Normant Lumensky, the man from a mystical land universes away from Earth? Making an ark out of his chains, he turns from a prisoner of war into a fugitive.
A WOMAN AGAINST THE WOR...
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17:00
ABEL WAS FLYING across the road, taking sudden turn after sudden turn, breaking speed record after speed record. Through it all, he was silent. When he barely avoided hitting two kids, he did not say a word. He only closed his eyes—for a moment—and sighed in relief as he waited for them to cross the road.
Clairvoyant's men were not after us—at least for now. Not that there was anyone alive or uninjured to run after us anyway. Internally, I was still reeling from the shock of what had happened—of Arastoo having partnered with the anarchic group to take the crystal first; of him appearing in front of me after so many years of complete absence; of him ending up on the floor and bleeding; of all the mess we had created. Yet on the outside, I remained collected, holding the package tightly in my hands, checking my phone every other minute.
Here I was, desperately trying to piece myself together and sort through the messages from the reporters. They had recorded the moment we had run out of the building. They had done everything I had told them to do. I even found myself googling what was being written about the Celestial Crystal these days. The results were interesting. The Internet was seething with anger. People on Twitter blamed the system and the inadequate work of everyone involved, of everyone that did not manage to keep safe something of such great value. They also blamed the president for not having spent enough money on security, and even went ahead and started complaining about the lack of funding when it came to the arts.
"Go faster!" Ioanna shouted from the back of the car.
Michalis was lying there too, face gnarly from the pain and barely conscious. His white T-shirt had turned red from the blood. Tears were coming out of Ioanna's eyes as she said, "I literally saved your lives a few minutes ago, why can't you just do the same for Michalis? Just drive faster."
Abel nodded. "We'll make it."
"Do you even know where we're heading to?"
His grip tightened on the steering wheel. "Stop shouting!"
It worked. Ioanna did not seem to have the will to fight back. Not when she was maniacally typing something on her phone.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Trying to find to which hospital to take Michalis." She paused to check on how he was doing. He was still breathing, so that was something. "You'll stop somewhere, and then I'll take the car, okay?"
It did not sound like the greatest plan, but neither me nor Abel was willing to come up with another one, so we just nodded.
Horns were coming from somewhere behind us, loud and unsettling. I gasped, even though I knew it was just the reporters following us on every street and narrow alleyway, anticipating the moment we parked somewhere for the interviews to start.
"I'll park right here," Abel murmured and took a sudden turn onto a remote street.
Beach houses lined it, alongside big oak trees. Their branches almost connected, creating a sky of green.
