When Jaumet heard those magical words, he struggled to raise his head and look at their savior, but, as always, Randell was too proud.
“We don’t need your help,” he snapped weakly. Elia sat down next to the captive.
“Listen, today, that was only the start. They will get those answers out of you or kill you in the process.” Randell shook his head.
“You’re…lying…” Elia shook her head back at him.
“I’m not. Hop wouldn’t have called me if he didn’t think you needed help.” Randell
creased his brow.
“H-Hop?”
“Hovsep, the guy who…interrogated you.” Elia answered lightly. Randell seemed to be thinking.
“We need help, Randell.” Jaumet managed, barely forcing the words out. “We need to get out of…of here.” His head fell back to the silver floor, and he squeezed his eyes shut as it stole the last of his energy. Randell’s eyes closed halfway.
“Fine. We…we need help.” Elia pressed her lips into a small, sad smile, and held out her hand. Randell pulled his knees to his chest and struggled to support his chest with his wrists. He made a grab for her hand, almost loosing his balance. Elia nodded reassuringly and closed her hand hard as soon Randell’s touched it.
He felt almost instantly better. Her strength spell coursed through his muscles all the way down to his bones. He tried to pull away as he stood up, but Elia shook her head and walked him to the door. Hovsep had left, so Elia sat Randell down on his bed.
She edged around the holding room back to Jaumet. Her hand was light on his
shoulder, but it gave him strength, just a little. He was able to curl tighter, but any
movement still hurt. He squeezed his eyes tighter and sobbed. Elia gripped onto his arm, trying to ease the strength spell into his body, but his body wouldn’t accept it. She slipped her free hand into his and clung as tightly as she could. Jaumet felt her efforts, but nothing
helped. He shook his head.
“I’m going to die.” He sobbed again and tears leaked onto the cold, hard floor.
“No, you’re not,” Elia’s assertion was flat and obvious. She bit her lip stubbornly, and slipped her arms under Jaumet. He opened his eyes as far as he could in surprise.
“What are you…?” Elia didn’t answer. She was focused on standing up with the boy in her arms. She was small, but she wasn’t weak, and Jaumet felt himself lifted off the ground. It felt better in the air, but the heavy air of the silver room still pressed his energy out of his body. His head fell back from where Elia’s arm supported his upper back. The girl
held him tighter and hurried to the door. Randell was too weak to get up, but he saw Jaumet and his eyes widened.
“J-Jaumet…” he whispered. Elia carried him as fast as she could to Hovsep’s bedroom and laid him down gently on the white, austere bed.
Jaumet struggled to find each breath and his eyes we closing fast. He was going.
Elia picked up his hand and held it between her palms, clasping her fingers around it.
“Stay with me,” she whispered. “Keep talking.” Jaumet swallowed and sobbed again.
“I don’t want to die.”
“You won’t. You won’t.” Elia whispered. “Keep talking. Don’t close your eyes.”
“I-I’ll miss the summers the most…We sat outside and lazed around, at-at l-least on
the weekends…I liked the watermelon…not…not cause it t-tastes good, b-but
because…because we spat the seeds out.”
Randell’s eyes widened. All these memories, this we Jaumet spoke of, that was just them. Just Randell and Jaumet. Before all the craziness, before everything…happened. Jaumet talked, Elia fed as much energy as she could into his weak body, but it wasn’t fast enough. He was slipping away. Randell bit his trembling lip. Jaumet was his only friend, and he couldn’t let him die. He needed to help.
Hesitating, but only for a second, Randell slipped his own hand into Jaumet’s and replicated what Elia was doing.
Jaumet’s eyes opened further.
“R-randell?” Randell nodded.
“Of course. Hold on, buddy, well get through this. God knows what else we’ve gone through.” Jaumet nodded weakly.
“Do you remember…that-that one summer…we spit the seeds at all the p-people that passed?” Randell laughed
“Their faces were priceless.” Jaumet laughed, his croaking voiced gaining strength.
“And then…then the overseer told us to stop, b-but we just…we just spat seeds at h-him too.” He laughed again, and Randell joined in. The strength spell was slowly pulling itself into Jaumet’s muscles and bones.
He blinked his eyes rapidly, and raised his head. Elia smiled and helped him sit up.
Randell dropped his hand and went in for the hug.
“Thank God,” he whispered, almost sobbing. “I thought you would leave me.” Jaumet coughed and laid his head on his friend’s shoulder.
Weakly. “A Pi never gives up.”
Nihilistic Porcupine 