Chapter 129: Until the Next Light Period

Marek did not answer Mara’s question right away.

She had barely finished asking if he was doing okay when he crossed the remaining distance between them. His hands closed around both of her arms, tighter than he intended.

Mara’s expression softened. "What? I’m doing okay. You don’t have to worry about me."

Marek said nothing. He looked her over instead, checking her face, her arms, the way she stood. Her breathing was steady, and there was nothing in her posture that suggested she was hurt.

The Gemini patterns across her palms had changed. The paired lines were cleaner than when he last saw them, with thin branches reaching farther toward both wrists. One disappeared beneath the cuff of her left sleeve.

Mara noticed where he was looking. "I’ve been training. I might even be stronger than you right now." She smiled a little. "What about you? Did you find Mom?"

"You look taller." Marek ignored the question. "Did the training hurt you?"

Mara stared at him for a moment. "You’re really just like Mom."

His eyes finally moved back to hers.

"Both of you do this," she continued. "You worry about everyone else first." Her voice became quieter. "That’s why I’m training. I want to be able to help you too when something happens. You and Mom. I don’t want you two always—"

Marek pulled her into his arms.

Mara froze.

"I’m sorry."

Her hands slowly came up against his back, but her heart felt a warm tug. "W-What are you sorry about?"

Marek tried to answer, but his voice would not come out properly at first.

"I... I feel bad... really bad." He tightened his arms around her. "While I was looking for Mom, every time I thought about you... I kept arguing with myself. I kept thinking there had to be something I could’ve done differently."

Mara felt his breathing break before she realized he was crying.

"You’re fourteen, Mara." His voice shook against her hair. "You spent days not knowing if Mom was alive. You didn’t know if I was alive. You had to survive all of this without either of us there."

Mara closed her eyes. Tears slipped down her face as she held the back of his shirt tightly.

"You shouldn’t have had to do that," Marek continued. "You shouldn’t have had to learn how to survive without us. You shouldn’t have had to become stronger because the world suddenly became dangerous."

He pulled back just enough to look at her.

"Y-You should’ve been allowed to just be a kid." His face crumpled despite how hard he tried to keep his voice steady. "M-My little sister. Mom’s little girl."

Mara’s mouth trembled.

Marek wiped at his face, but more tears replaced the ones he removed. "I’m your brother. I kept thinking that should’ve meant I was there."

Mara held the back of his shirt even tighter.

"I-I wanted you there," she admitted, her voice cracking.

Marek’s eyes closed.

"I wanted Mom too. There were nights when I didn’t know where either of you were, and I was scared." Her voice broke slightly, but she kept going. "I kept thinking maybe you were looking for me. Then I’d think maybe you were hurt somewhere and couldn’t."

Marek’s arms tightened around her again.

"But I never thought you left me."

He pulled back enough to see her face.

Mara wiped one cheek with the back of her hand. "There’s a difference, Kuya Marek."

He knew what she meant. Knowing it did not make the days she had spent without them easier to accept. "I still should’ve been there."

"Maybe." Mara sniffed and looked down for a moment. "I... I still wish you were."

"..."

She looked at him again. "But you came."

"..."

Mara reached up and wiped one of the tears still caught beneath his eye with her thumb. "And now you’re crying more than I am, which is embarrassing. Silly big brother!"

A broken laugh escaped him before he could stop it.

"..."

The shelter continued around them. Someone dragged a supply crate across the floor near the registration tables, and one of the public screens changed to another local advisory. For a few seconds, nobody nearby seemed important enough for Marek to notice.

Mara eventually loosened her arms.

"So," she said quietly, wiping the rest of her face, "did you find Mom?"

Marek looked at her.

"Yeah. I found her." He hesitated. "Or... I guess we found each other."

Rhovan looked away and pretended to wipe tears from his eyes. "So touching!"

Both siblings ignored him.

The mirror behind Mara deepened again. The shelter’s reflection blurred across the glass, replaced for a moment by the same pale courtyard and shallow basin Marek had seen from the other side.

Venielle stepped through, and the surface settled after her, leaving an ordinary mirror against the concrete wall as if it had always been there.

The silver-white woman looked much the same as when Marek last saw her.

Marek looked at her. "Why are you here?"

Mara turned toward him. "You could say hello first."

"Hello." He looked back at Venielle. "Why are you here?"

"That was worse."

Nadia had stopped pretending not to listen. Dario was doing a better job of it from one of the tables, while Silas had found something very interesting about the shelter entrance that required him to remain within hearing distance.

Mara gave them all a brief look before returning to Marek. "I wanted to see you."

"You left recently."

"That doesn’t mean I’m banned from coming back, no?" Mara grumbled.

"How long are you staying?"

"Until the next light period."

That was longer than a visit through the mirror needed to be.

Marek looked at Venielle.

"The arrival of the Twelve Representatives changed several active House routes," she said. "Some protections I was using no longer align cleanly from the other side. I need to rebuild part of them from Earth."

"Around Mara?"

"Around records connected to her."

Marek’s attention sharpened. The House of Gemini had already requested voluntary access to minors displaying high-order correspondence effects.

"Does their representative know about her?"

Venielle took a moment before answering. "Some people in the House of Gemini know Ilyara Sen’s record exists. Fewer know how the paired mirrors answered Mara, and that’s only you and others with you. And I would prefer to keep it that way."

"What about the representative here?"

"She does not currently have a valid route to Mara’s records."

"Currently?" Marek repeated.

Mara stepped closer before he could press Venielle further. "I’m fine."

He looked at her.

Unfortunately, there was nothing useful he could say to that.

Mara stayed beside him for most of the dark period.

They did very little, which made the evening better than most of the ones Marek had experienced since Day 367. The shelter remained busy around them without feeling frantic. Volunteers carried water between tables, someone near the rear wall was trying to repair a portable fan, and the public screens had finally stopped showing negotiations long enough to return to local advisories.

For a while, Mara sat with Nadia and listened to an exaggerated account of everything that had happened while she was gone.

Kellan corrected Nadia twice, then made the story less accurate himself.

Dario eventually told all three of them to lower their voices because people were trying to sleep. Mara looked more comfortable during that pointless argument than she had while discussing the House of Gemini, and Marek was glad nobody asked her anything important.

Mara complained about the shelter food, then reminded him that his cooking at home had been worse. Marek pointed out that she had eaten it anyway.

"Because I was hungry," she said.

He decided not to argue.

Eventually, she asked about the noodles.

"Eight," Marek said.

Mara stared at him for a second. "You still have all eight of those packets?"

"You took three," Marek replied.

"I have two now."

Marek stopped sorting through the supplies beside his bag. "What happened to the third?"

"One of the girls training with us hadn’t eaten."

He nodded and went back to what he was doing.

Mara waited.

When Marek said nothing else, Mara looked at him for a moment.

"No lecture about the noodles?"

"You gave it to someone hungry."

Mara seemed almost surprised by the answer. "That’s it?"

"That’s it."