Page 4 of Ace of Shadows
My stomach rolls tightly, and nausea stings the back of my throat, but before another thought crosses my mind, a suitcase escapes the nearest overhead compartment. The last thing I seeis the glittery pink label and gold wheels before it crashes into my face.
My world turns black in an instant.
2
IVY
Beep…
Beep…
Beep…
Is that my alarm? Did the battery die again?
Just my luck.
Mom always told me to get a different one, but my apartment gets so many power cuts, and my trusty battery-operated alarm has saved my bacon more than once. No one can replace her.
She continues to beep so I try to blindly reach for her to snooze the warning and gain five minutes extra, but my arm is heavy. Something tickles along my forearm and warm pain twinges in the crease of my elbow.
Am I going to be late?
No… no, that’s not right.
When I open my eyes, I’m met with a dark ceiling lacking the light-up stars I stuck there during my last spurt of decorating. Fuzziness clings to the corner of my vision, and everything blurs like I’m trying to peer through thick morning fog. I blink, but the darkness remains for a few long seconds. The next time I open my eyes, the ceiling isn’t as dark but the stars are still missing.
Did I take them down?
No… I haven’t been home in weeks because…
Because…
To my right is a large window draped in white slat blinds angled just enough that I glimpse the real starry sky outside. The moon is high, the sky is clear, and the stars twinkle softly as if trying to draw me out of this thick slumber.
My arm still feels weird and heavy. My throat is dry like it’s been stuffed with cotton, so when I try to swallow, everything pulls and scratches so sharply that I choke. A ragged cough reaches my ears, and it’s not until the third one that I realize that sound is coming from me.
Suddenly, an unfamiliar face floats over the top of me. Kind green eyes scrunch at the corners and her lips part, but her words struggle to reach me like I’m underwater. I watch her speak, following the slope and curve of her lips while cough after weak cough escapes past my equally dry lips.
My tongue hurts.
The face vanishes and the thick sludge invading my mind slows all of my thoughts. What happened to my alarm?
Another cough and the woman is back, pressing something between my lips and this time, I do hear her when she talks.
“Drink.”
So I do. My lips seal around the straw and with a few sucks, cool water floods my mouth and soothes my aching throat with each swallow. Thirst rises like a feral wave inside me and I drink faster and faster. With each gulp, the fog clears from my vision and the sludge melts from my mind, leaving just a dull ache lingering in my forehead. I drink until the straw is abruptly pulled away from my lips, leaving a few droplets clinging to my lower lip.
“Careful,” she says. “Too much too soon will make you sick.”
Sick?
Sleep melts away and more of the dark room comes into view as the nurse—because she’s clearly dressed like a nurse—pulls away from my bed and sets the cup of water down on the plastic table stretching across my bed. The room’s so dark that the only light, other than what’s coming from the machines to my left, comes from the door that sits half open behind the nurse.
“I—” Talking burns, and I dissolve into another flurry of coughs.
The nurse’s face crumples with sympathy, and her cool hands suddenly wrap around my forearm. “Take it easy,” she says softly. “You’ve been unconscious for four days.”
