HEIRS OF TIME (CASTE BOOK 2) SAMPLE CHAPTERS

Chapter 12

Copenhagen, Denmark

My eyelids opened, but a hazy light blinded me. I wiped my eyes as I got up, but this gesture tore a little cry out of me. A headache drummed inside my skull, and I put my hands on my head. The pain seemed searing to me. I blinked several times, and a dreadful whiteness crossed my pupils. I took a long minute before finally opening my eyes wide. They immediately moved to my legs. Barefoot, I was lying on a single bed, covered with a sheet as immaculate as the white pyjamas I wore. My gaze travelled to where I was.

The walls were all padded in white. Arranged in the left corner of the room was a toilet, summarily concealed by a small partition, which shouldn’t reach much higher than my head once seated on it. Under an oval-shaped mirror, a washbasin with a rather basic vanity set hung in the middle of the wall. Below, another white outfit and a bath towel were folded and placed on the white floor. A bedside table lined my bed. To my right, the entire space of the wall was a gigantic pane of glass, the thickness of which must have reached half a meter. On the other side, I could make out a white, empty corridor and another identical room, just opposite mine, about three metres away. The grey, reinforced concrete ceiling had a few holes, all placed two metres apart, and a hook in the middle supported a saucer-shaped light. The room was spacious, maybe twenty square metres, but offered no way to hide. In front of me, a black wooden desk supported an astronomical quantity of books, some of which had very damaged bindings. I tried to summon one by telekinesis, but it barely moved an inch. I concentrated on my efforts, but nothing helped. My powers had abandoned me. It was at this precise moment that panic overwhelmed me.

Trembling, I put one foot on the freezing floor. I couldn’t suppress a shiver when I felt the cold bite under my toes. Dazed and groggy, I made my way to the desk with difficulty. I felt no physical pain except for my migraine and immense fatigue. My hand grabbed the chair, and I gripped it. I grabbed the most damaged book and read the first lines written in pen. The threadbare paper was about to dissolve under my fingers, and I understood better why when I discovered the date on the first page.

1710,

I was seventeen when my mother died…

The sudden image of Carmichael as a teenager flashed through my mind, and my body remembered his effect on me. I closed the book, and my throat tightened. What was I doing here? And where was Connor? I turned towards the window and took a step back, which made me stumble when, amazed, I discovered a man, a prisoner in the padded cell opposite mine. My fall knocked me onto my buttocks and made my headache worse. Tailbone pain radiated into my lower back. I got up with difficulty and then moved close to the window to see the stranger better. He did the same; he seemed dazed to find me in this place.

He was tall and had dark skin. His long black hair, thrown over his shoulders, came down to the middle of his bare chest. He was sweating, his muscles tense from recent exertion. His chest heaved with force as if he was running out of oxygen. On his stomach, I could count the number of abs, and lower down, pyjama pants identical to the ones I wore hugged his hips. My eyes returned to his face, which looked like he had finally recovered from the surprise. He wore a thin moustache and a goatee that accentuated the shape of his square face. His build and bearing gave him the appearance of a warrior straight out of an epic novel. His face was vaguely familiar, yet I could have sworn I had never met him. His eyebrows, the same shade as his ebony hair, intensified his dark eyes. He tried to speak to me, but no sound reached me.

I would have found him magnificent in another place or time, as the vision of his body and perfect face couldn’t leave you indifferent. But a noise tore me from my contemplation. My gaze went to the ceiling. Gas was escaping from the holes I had noticed earlier. Panicked, I looked back at the man. He put a hand on the glass, and I imitated him as if mine could touch him despite the shielding of the thick glass wall. He looked up at the ceiling, and I realized that the same phenomenon was happening in his cell.

I expected to pass out, but I didn’t. Whatever the effects of the gas, it caused no pain, so I stood there in front of this man. Another sound made me turn my head towards my feet. A panel, no wider than a foot, disappeared under the floor, and soon a tray appeared in its place, with a glass of water and a pill on it. My eyes never left this apparition when suddenly a man walked down the hall. Connor!