Chapter eighty-three

I open my eyes.

Tasmin is fresh in my mind, and I was imagining her dancing along a beach, wearing her glimmering ring. Each time she turns to me, her light hair bouncing on her shoulders, I'm blinded by her smile, her eyes, her ring.

But the room I'm in is pitch black, and stars flash violently in my vision when I force myself to lift my heavy eyelids. My head throbs, and when I bring my fingers to my temples to rub them, it feels like I'm jamming dull knives into the sides of my head.

The laser tag arena was just as dark as this room, but I don't remember lying down. And I definitely don't remember the ground being so warm and soft beneath me. I force myself to sit up, take in my surroundings, but it's almost completely dark. Turning to my right, I pull back the curtains hanging over the window. A beam of light penetrates the room and I flick them back. I'd rather be in darkness until my head stops hurting.

I close my eyes, trying to remember what happened. But all I can think of are the flashes of red and green over myself and Tasmin, and the warmth of Tasmin's skin brushing against mine in the cloudy labyrinth.

As I lie here, I don't notice the thin streak of golden light until it expands quickly, and a figure bathed in that light steps down, a penumbra of her body slides beautifully onto the wall behind her, but a halo surrounds her like an angel. Her lilting voice carries through the darkness, musical in my eyes.

"Rest well, Harry?" she murmurs.

"Ally." I sit up. "What – What am I doing here? When did you –?"

"Shush," she says, coming close to my bedside and pressing her soft, thin finger to my lips. "Your head must still hurt, you should rest your head and everything in it," running her hand over the side of my face.

"How did I get here, Ally?" I ask firmly.

In the shadows of her face, I watch her smile fade. She doesn't answer but pulls the desk chair to my side, sitting down, her hands perched on her knee.

"I needed to speak to you," she whispers finally. "Do I not have the option to find you and see you?"

With a small scoff, I tell her: "Notes, Ally. We agreed to send each other notes," I remind her.

"You don't want to speak to me."

I don't respond.

"When will you speak to me again, Harry?"

"When necessary. We agreed to speak when necessary. If I'm away too long, won't they think –?" How long have I been here? Sleeping, resting, while my friends… my friends… "How long have I been here, Ally?"

"Not long."

"Give me the time, Ally," I ask sternly, glancing around the room for a clock.

"You're not calling me 'Al'."

My wrist is bare. "Where's my watch?"

"You're not making any progress, Harry."

I stop moving, feeling my cheeks heat up, tempted to kick away my sheets. "I'm doing my best."

"Your best is taking too long. Remember why I'm here with you, Harry."

"Yeah," I laugh. "To help me."

"You know, Harry," Ally starts, "Boss has given me the right to act on this mission, should you fail to carry out this mission. But I'll be honest with you, I didn't think I'd have to do anything. This is your mission, isn't it? You're doing this for you. There's no reason for me to do anything, is there, Harry?"

I flick my head, avoiding her steady gaze. She leans closer, and I feel her warm breath caress my cheek.

"Is there, Harry?" she repeats, softly.

Again, I don't answer. She places a kiss on my cheek.

"Do you want to go back?"

"I just don't want to be here."

She simply sighs, but I know she's hurt. She stands, returning the chair beneath the table. From the desk I hear a clicking sound as she picks up my watch, siddles over and slides it back onto my wrist.

"If they ask," she starts, her face close to mine, our breaths congealing in the dark. "Don't say where you were. Say you felt unwell and had to leave."

I clench my teeth. "I'll say what I want."

"Of course, Harry," she murmurs, though more stiff than before. "It's your mission."

For the petty sake of not following Ally's advice, I retire to my cabin, hastily swiping the card and closing the door behind me. I examine myself in the bathroom, feeling around my head for a lump of sorts, but there's nothing on my face, so I conclude that Ally must've hit me on the back of the head. My conclusion is proven correct when I locate the mountain-sized bump directly in the middle of the back of my head. Groaning at the sharp throbs in my head, worse than any headaches I've ever had combined, I settle into the desk chair, head in my hands, thinking so much it hurts.

Things were looking up. But I hear Ally's voice in my head, and I know that if anything is looking up on this mission, it's wrong. Ally knows it. I know it. Yet I can't get Tasmin's smile out of my mind, or my friends' smiles, or the memories we've made, or any of this cruise. I regret now, but what I regret, I'm not too sure.

Perhaps I regret taking the tickets from my mum's frail hands years ago, when I never thought that things could be worse than they were. Maybe I regret making friends, dragging them into this mess. I didn't know, and I still don't know if joining the Reprisal was a respectable decision. And Ally? Tasmin?

I turn my hand over and stare at the faint white lines etched into my wrist that no one but Tasmin ever noticed. A tear rolls slowly but surely down my cheek just as the door to the cabin opens.