Connection

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Her force burst forth, but instead of flowing away from her in an uncontrollable rush as it had in the forest, it flowed into Eli, then curled back around, forming a kind of electric current between them. The air swirled, bright sparks burst in the blackness of the night, followed by blue flames which spread over their bodies like moving plates on a suit of armour.

Eli's grip tightened and he was pulling her closer, hands never breaking contact with her skin until she was pressed against his body, curled against his chest in the concave of his arms. His heart beat fast through his robes and she felt her own heart quicken to match it.

Suddenly, they were one, sharing each other's feelings and thoughts. He could sense her pent up rage, guilt and anger. She could see what he saw—a wild woman, fiery and dangerous, dark hair swirling with static electricity, the air crackling around her. He thought she was beautiful.

Suddenly, the scene shifted and she was standing in the Marquiet. Everything was duller than she remembered, having gotten so used to the lush vibrancy of the island. She was staring through the crowd at a young boy of about twelve years with sandy hair and molten grey eyes. His face was gaunt as though he hadn't eaten for weeks. His ripped t-shirt hung off him like a potato sack and his stomach growled loudly as the smell of roasted melon seeds wafted under his nose. He had bruises on his arms and a red mark swelling in the same of fingers on her neck. She realised she was staring at a young Eli. Eli before he had his scars. When his scars had been bruises instead. It seemed young Eli had had it worse than her. He was a street kid of the Outer Band.

The scene changed again. This time, she saw only a reel of flickering images—a beer bottle smashing against a wall, a blotched and angry red face hovering. Lights. Music. A slot machine flashing and scrolling numbers and pictures of cowboys and desert cobras. Darkness. Hounds stiffing the air. Torchlights scouring a dump site.

Then, out of the darkness, a woman's face emerged—with catlike eyes the same colour as Ash's, a tangle of wild hair, just like Ash's and full pink lips the same as Ash's, only they were parted seductively. The woman reached out and touched her. No... touched Eli, and he shivered. Eli knew that skin, knew the exact temperature of it, the pressure of it, where it was going to go. She felt the intensity of his emotion as it blossomed from his gut and bled painfully to the rest of his body until every muscle, every joint, ached. She'd never experienced such debilitating emotion before, and there could only be one explanation for it. The scenes she was seeing were Eli's memories. The woman in front of her was Heather, the woman Eli loved with the ferocity of fire itself.

"Do it," Heather said. "If you really love me, Eli you will do it. Please."

"Enough!" Eli's voice cut through the memory and suddenly, she was falling. Her ankles caught on the side of the boat, and her whole body plummeted into the water. It took her a moment to figure out what had happened. Eli had broken their connection and jumped overboard, taking her with him. Their bodies hissed as they went under, and the shock of the cold water thrust the air from her chest. She rose, spluttering. Eli was already clinging to the side of the canoe, breathing hard, his molten eyes ablaze.

"What—did—you—do?" he hissed as he pulled himself into the boat.

She swiped her sodden hair off her face. "I don't know—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—" Her last words gargled as she choked on water while struggling to pull herself onto the boat.

Eli turned away and stared out at the horizon until she was aboard. Then, he pulled up the anchor and began rowing them back to shore in silence, the lagoon water steaming off their robes, the fireflies having ended their light show for the night.

As they walked back to the Phoenix House dormitories, all Ash could think about was the woman with dark cat-eyes and the man with the pocket watch.

There's only one person in the world who'll know what to do with it, and she will remember in time, the man had said. What had he mean by that?

Back at the Phoenix House dormitory, Eli left her in the common room before turning to disappear down the tunnel. Ash watched him for a few paces before saying, "Wait."

He stilled, but didn't face her.

"My name's not Valancia," she said, as loudly as she dared. "They got it wrong. It's Ashalia. But you can call me Ash."

She didn't know why she said it. Just felt it was the right thing to do. She'd just glimpsed his most painful and intimate memories, and he didn't even know her name. It seemed only fair.

Eli's head tilted in a nod, so slight, it was barely noticeable. He continued down the dark tunnel and out of sight.

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