The Vaticinator

did you call Aakir?” I ask. I am already somewhat aware of the answer but I still want Neal to admit it.

  He hesitates, “Just for an update.” He shrugs.

  “Yeah, right.” I mumble, then begin loudly, “You know I don’t like you making use of-”

  “I know.” He snaps.

  “-Yeah, but apparently my opinion doesn’t matter. You seem to have no qualms about asking Aakir to come help you project; at my back, I may add.”

  “You just can’t let an opportunity to fight go by, can you?” he replies sassily.

  “You cannot just do things and not expect me to comment on them!” I retort, my voice increasing.

  “You’re one to talk.”

  “At least I don’t do things at your back.”

  Neal sighs, frustrated, “What’s the big deal? Yeah, you hate my abilities but they can make a lot of difference in our situation. You can’t blame me for not making use of them. In fact, it’s your ‘idealistic’ notion that I shouldn’t use my abilities is what doesn’t make sense to me. If it can bring things in our favor, then why the hell are you against it?”

  “Because it’s unnatural.” I reply hotly. As expected, Neal scoffs and I know he is thinking about my metamorphosing ability which is also far from normal. But I ignore his attitude and continue, “Yeah, therians are not normal but you’re an oddity amongst them as well. You should never forget that this skill of yours is what got you in the mess in the first place. At some point people will realize that the events occurring are your doings. And they will not stop pointing fingers at you. Can’t you at least work towards not standing out like a sore thumb? I just want you to be normal. Things will work out. I don’t think we’re completely incapable so to need your assistance.”

  Neal keeps staring for a few moments. I hold his gaze, frowning at him. I am astonished he is not riposting back. But I suppose I make sense to him at some level. After an eon Neal averts his eyes. It makes me realize that we had just been staring at each other. Surprisingly, he looks slightly sheepish. He looks back at me, his cheeks uncharacteristically turning pink. I blink at him, wondering if my eyes are fooling me. Neal has never blushed so blatantly before.

  “You should get ready.” He says, waving his hand towards me.

  His face is getting redder, much to my surprise. I don’t know what he is thinking and I am half tempted to ask what has him blushing. But my thoughts immediately move towards our ‘kiss’. That causes embarrassment to plague me too and I remove my sheets, getting up from the bed, avoiding Neal altogether. I stretch a little, checking for any sore spots. My ribs, arm and jaw ache, but otherwise I feel fine. Much better than yesterday, so I have no complaints. I check the time. It’s nearing seven thirty, so we have more than half hour to leave this place.

  “How did you even get the tickets?” I ask Neal, moving towards the washroom.

  I don’t get a response. That makes me frown. Before opening the washroom’s door, I turn around. I immediately reel back. Neal is standing right behind me, at a foot distance. He seems to be in a trance as he raises his eyebrows at me, as if he wasn’t expecting me to turn around.

  “I asked – how did you get the tickets?” I repeat, feeling slightly alarmed at Neal’s absentmindedness.

  “Oh.” Neal says, handing over the towel and my clothes to me, for which he seems to be following me in the first place. “Surprisingly, this hotel has a computer system and a Wi-Fi.”

  I hesitate, cradling all the stuff Neal has handed against my chest with my good arm. “Did you even sleep last night?” I ask him.

  He went to call Aakir last night. He went to ask for availability of a computer system and Wi-Fi. He searched for the nearest port and booked our tickets. He also got us food in the middle of the night, which is stale by now. Above that, he had been mediating when I got up. And form the looks of it, he seemed to be meditating since quite a few hours. When the hell did he sleep?

  Neal rolls his eyes, “Get ready.” He says ephemerally, avoiding my question.

  I open my mouth to retort at his ignorance, but resist.

  Yes.

  Yes, I should definitely stop grabbing every opportunity to fight with him.

  26.Blossoming

  I feel a finger poking my forehead. My closed eyes pinch and my face scrunches up in annoyance. I sleepily swat the finger away and adjust my head on the stiff pillow. Thankfully, the finger doesn’t bother me again. I find myself almost at the brink of falling asleep again when a whole hands starts jerking my shoulder. My eyes immediately fly open, annoyed. I am greeted by Neal’s face who is also frowning back at me. I blink, caught off guard by him leaning down on the side of the bed. I straighten up, immediately sitting andstretching my body. Neal quietly sighs, standing up and picking up a tray from the side taboret.

  “Eat up.” He says.

  “You broke my sleep.” I mumble, half annoyed.

  “You need to eat.” He stresses.

  Sleepily, I grab the trayfrom his hand. “I’ll feel queasy.” I point out, trying to stifle a yawn.

  “You need to eat anyways. You can’t starve yourself. Maybe you should move out, enjoy the cool air a bit. You’re stuck in the room since morning.”

  “I would have if not for the drowsiness.” I mutter.

  I get up from the bed. I look out of the small window of our room, which greets me with the sight of the darkening sky, the river, the river bank beyond and the forest trees moving backwards. That’s the same scene I am being greeted with every time I wake up. I have honestly realized that I do not like voyaging;even if I am asleep for more than half the day.

  I stretch my muscles again, sighing with relief at my movements. I have been lying in this god forsaken bed for almost ten hours. That may not have been a problem much, except for the fact that I have been dozing on and off since we have boarded. The medicines I have taken in the morning, and again in the afternoon, have been excessively sedative. I have been in deep slumber since the time we settled in our allotted room; occasionally waking up for five or so minutes, before dozing off again.

  Not to mention, I have been feeling woozy since our journey started. That has prevented me from eating much since morning. I don’t get sea sickness, so I blame the medicines and probably the stale sandwich I ate at the last hotel, for this unpredictable outcome. But I am pain free; only my right arm aches on movement. Most of all, I am headache free. So I swallow down all of my complaints. You give something, you get something, right?

  I walk to the small bathroom attached with our room. I splash water on my face multiple times. I am determined to stay awake for the rest of the day, whatever is left of it. One would expect me to be absolutely relaxed to have slept through the day. But it has managed to only enhance my paranoia. For the reasons only known to the Goddess, I am excessively doubtful about our course. Granted, I have not been conscious much to worry over the issue. But whenever in the right mind, I cannot help but feel that this decision to go back is going to shoot us in the back. I am more than half sure this is a bad idea. We shouldn’t be going back. I even find myself expressing surprise at my own agreement to depart so quickly.

  Also, Neal is again being his thoughtful self, something that I have come to deeply despise. Again, I shouldn’t really complain about his quietness when I have been asleep the whole day. But even for the few minutes when I have been up, Neal has looked lost in his thoughts, deeply thinking in the world he has conjured up in his mind. His thinking stance and silence is only making me doubt our situation; even doubt his judgment regarding the issue.

  I am probably this anxious because it has been too much time since I sensed Neal’s aura. Glancing at the fading light through the small window, I realize that his aura should start radiating within a few minutes, if it hasn’t already started. About time as well. I want to be rid of the skittishness. His aura may just act as an incentive that will keep me away from sleep too.

  I enter the room, shutting the door behind me. Neal is
sitting cross legged, his back against the wall behind the bed. His hands are wrapped across his torso and he seems in deep thought. On catching my eye, he blinks.

  I quietly sigh, moving towards the other side of the bed. Our room is small with a three-quarter bed, a taboret, a single couch and a coffee table. It was a little surprising when I first entered it. When I had come to Dudinka with father and Aakir, we had taken up bode in a much larger, much fancier room with three separate queen beds. Maybe we’re low on money. My medicines don’t seem to have come cheap. But…I falter, settling on the bed. Hadn’t Neal booked the room in the cruise online? I look at him, frowning.

  “You booked our tickets online?” I ask him.

  Neal looks surprised. He probably expects me to eat, whatever I can, and succumb to sleep again, as I have been doing the whole day. But no more. I am determined to stay awake this time.

  “Yes.” He answers.

  “With the…credit card?” I ask dubiously.

  “…Yes.”

  “I thought dad had asked you to not use his credit cards.”

  Neal averts his eyes, his hands tightening across his torso. He shrugs at me.

  Well…maybe it doesn’t matter now, seeing as how we’re anyways going back. But at least he could have booked a more comfortable room. Or was he afraid of spending too much from father’s card? I don’t think father would mind. Not if he gave his credit card to Neal. But, as