Duality

part twenty-three

As always, he'd only tried to protect her.

With a shake of her head, Mila let him hold onto the arrow. She looked away as he pressed the tip into his neck. Even then she heard the arrow pierce flesh, heard his ragged inhale, and felt the ground jolt as he slumped to the side, away from her. Every time his heart beat and he drew in another breath while she experienced no dizziness, no blackness, she worried.

After about thirty seconds, his breathing stopped.

Her rising panic didn't last long, only because she fell on top of him, suddenly winded and exhausted.

When she resurfaced, she realized she had been sleeping all those other times: the grogginess she felt then was nothing like when died. Her memory came back first, telling her that the person moving around the room had to be Ashton. Next she could feel her limbs again, so that she felt capable of moving.

Mila waited until after she'd opened her eyes to move her hand. The skeletal fingers mocked her, especially when she turned her hand and made them curl.

"We have a problem."

I'm looking at it, Mila thought as she continued to study her hand. If the bones hadn't healed, she doubted anything had happened with her legs. Refusing to look at them and scare herself into not walking, Mila pushed herself into a sitting position and waited for Ashton to elaborate.

He stood by the window, looking out into the sun.

Spreading her arms to balance, Mila made her way over and looked outside for whatever he focused on. Her horses were nowhere in sight-she hoped they were okay-and nothing looked out of place, except him being here in the hut and Anna dead.

"You raised the sun," Ashton finally elaborated.

"I couldn't have." Mila searched for the familiar coursing of power through her veins and still felt nothing: the regeneration hadn't worked. "That's your power, anyway."

Adamantly, Ashton shook his head. "I have your powers. You must have managed to do it while you were passed out." That made no sense to Mila-she had no control over herself when she died-but Ashton acted like it was the only explanation.

"If you've got my powers, put the moon in the sky," Mila said. They had bigger problems to deal with, like her lack of healing.

Instead of arguing, Ashton folded his arms and watched her face. Mila looked away, and in doing so discovered that's what he wanted: the moon sailed through the daytime sky, completely out of place. "Oh," Mila said, knowing without a doubt that wouldn't work.

He let the moon fall back under the horizon. "Can you fix the sun?"

Given she hadn't been the one to put it up there in the first place, probably not. Mila rolled her shoulders back and squinted against the harsh light of the sun, trying to will it out of the sky with a nod of her head. Nothing. She brought her hands into the mix, letting desperation fuel her, and felt no stirrings of the slightest power.

"We'll just switch again," Mila decided. If the moon stayed in the sky all the time the crops might suffer, but the town would live. If the sun stayed in the sky, Mila feared they'd all burn, if they found it as overbearing as she did.

"No."

He'd clenched his jaw, the sign he stood firm about his point. Mila noted the way he wouldn't look at her, how it seemed like the intimacy they'd shared a day ago had disappeared. Unless, of course, it hadn't happened a day ago. "What aren't you telling me?" When Ashton didn't answer, Mila chose a more direct question: "How long was I out?"