Theory of Mind

Res permitted us to get back to the store, under the supervision of the soldiers. Kieran wanted the entire group of soldiers to keep watch, but I convinced him to distribute some of his men to watch Zeroc and ease Werly’s suspicions.

“You don’t want Zeroc to wake up and smear the underground with your blood, right?” I opted not to disclose Zeroc’s true identity, in case knowing that would help them with the brainwashing. From the murmuring between the soldiers, I gathered Kieran had coated his sword with the sedative. The trick only worked on Zeroc because he didn’t suspect Kieran; it wouldn’t work again. When most of the soldiers were colluding together to hide their betrayal, it would be difficult to find evidence of treachery. Recruiting this many traitors practically guaranteed an information leak somewhere. Zeroc didn’t expect Res to use magic to change the soldiers, an act that was previously thought impossible.

“Trust goes both ways. You might not trust us completely, but doing too much will stop us from trusting you.” This excuse helped me cut the number of soldiers watching us down to two. Escape would still be a challenge, but I could see a possibility now.

The sun hung at its highest point of the day as we got outside onto the back streets. No more vagrants lurked in the dim environment. I couldn’t see any trace of people in the other alleyways either when we passed by. The two soldiers were heeling us. It was impossible to outrun them because their legs were longer than ours. Hey, at least they didn’t make small talk. That gave me time to come up with a strategy.

“Connect with me again,” Coyote’s casual comment made me raise my eyebrows.

“I learned this from Lyla,” she added, giving a brief explanation. The soldiers were listening in, so she couldn’t be too obvious about what she meant. She even extended her hand to disguise her cryptic words as a bizarre way of asking me to hold her hand.

“I get it,” I said, grabbing her hand. Her implicit message was obvious to me. She wanted me to re-establish my mental link to her, as even a one-way telepathic communication would be better than nothing. That elf has such a big mouth. Would it hurt for her to keep a secret or two? Why did I even tell her my secrets? Although… I guess her blabbering might actually help us in this case. The thought of Lyla put a stupid smile on my face. Fortunately, the soldiers were behind us, or my facial expression would have given away that we were plotting something.

I recalled what I had speculated regarding my ability. The most likely condition for the mental link was understanding the target. This was in line with the principle of magic Lyla kept bringing up: “You understand it to use it.” And my ability was probably one kind of magic.

The reason I could so easily connect with Coyote back then, if I had to guess, was that her hunger simplified her mental state. After she was fed and recovered, her mind became more complex again, and I lost part of the connection. It couldn’t be a coincidence that I stopped hearing her thoughts once she ate.

My agenda was clear: to get a grasp of Coyote’s psyche before arriving at the store. Easier said than done. She was an orphan who dressed as a boy to protect herself. Trust didn’t come naturally to her, so much so that she would rather starve than ask for help. Living with Lyla and me, she acted more like a kid than when I first met her. She could relax when around us. Her hobby was to draw pictures that were on the… less presentable side.

That was how I saw the inner workings of her mind. Yet none of her private thoughts reveal themselves to me. I still couldn’t figure her out. It was the same with Lyla. I thought I knew her and that I could help her, but in the end, the last expression that I saw on her face told me that I was completely wrong. I hadn’t changed since then at all. Nothing ever changed.

As my mind wallowed in its misery, I felt Coyote give my hand a gentle squeeze. It reminded me of her presence, of the person I wanted to protect and understand. Someone I saw as my younger sister. I never had any siblings in my past life, and I had often wondered what the experience of having one would be like. It was an existence you would take for granted; a roommate that you couldn’t get rid of; a soul that was outside of you but also lived deep within your heart, somewhere you would rarely acknowledge.

I wondered if she had the same longing for a sibling too. And whether she had the same cynical thoughts when she lived on the streets, that the world had abandoned her, that everyone was out to get her. How did she feel when she was rescued by Lyla? When she got fed for free with no need to pay anything in return? Why did she tell me that she was really a girl? Was it pity, or trust, or gratitude? There must be questions I could ask to learn more about her. With the soldiers breathing down our necks, I might only afford one question. I had to make it count.

We turned a corner onto the street where the store was located. Time was running out. It had to be now. I opened my mouth, unsure what to ask, but words tumbled out by themselves: “Why is your name Coyote? I had this question for a while.”

“Why are you called Thomas?”

“My parents gave me that name.”

“For me, I gave myself that name. It sounded like a boy’s name.”

“So, there wasn’t a particular reason?”

“I told you the reason. I liked how it sounded.”

“I guess that counts as a reason.”

Coyote chuckled. I was glad to see her relax a little. My cogs in my head clicked, and I settled down on a question. A real one this time. “Coyote, are you happy right now?”

Evidently, the question was a surprise to her. She took a moment before saying, “Happy? I think I’ll lean more towards a no than a yes. I miss… I miss Lady Res. Why can’t she stay with us? Why did she leave? I want the three of us to live together. I want that. Why do good things always leave me?”

Obviously, she meant Lyla instead of Res, but the soldiers behind us took it at face value. They were sniffling and murmuring about the greatness of Res. Coyote also couldn’t keep the torrent of emotions from leaking out in the tone of her speech. I was impressed she could think about deceiving the soldiers at the same time as pouring out her feelings she had kept unsaid.

“I’m sorry. It isn’t your fault. Blame me. I’m the guilty one. Not you.” That was the only answer I could give. Maybe I should have asked earlier, before this exchange served as a strategy to understand Coyote, when it was only a show of care and concern. She finally found a family after so long, but I destroyed it with my arrogance and self-indulgence. I’m truly a horrible person.

It was as if she could read my mind. “I don’t think you are a horrible person for what you did. The past doesn’t exist anymore, as Lady Res put it. If it does, if we are really weighing the past, then… then…” Her speech stopped there, as if something was caught in her throat. She bit her lips so that her tears wouldn’t come out. They still did, though only one drop. “You found me. Never forget that.”

My intention back then wasn’t to save her. I wanted only to ease my hunger. I wasn’t someone noble. It was a selfish, ugly, hypocritical, and heartless decision that anyone could have made. Strands of self-deprecation were about to break out of my lips, but I held them back just in time. Coyote had poured her heart out to me, so that I should understand her. I had to understand. No matter how the dark folds of my mind tried to convince me otherwise.

I saved her. And it meant the world to her.

The soldiers seemed to be too caught up in their emotional bubble to hear the last part of what Coyote said. At least, I hoped that was the case; then it would be a heart-to-heart between only the two of us. This exchange of words was more authentic than her hungry mumbling that was directly beamed from her brain to mine.

Can you hear me?

A voice materialized in my inner world and gradually became recognizable as Coyote’s. We did it. Our minds linked up in our genuine display of our true selves. It had been a while since I had been this enraptured by something.

“I hear you! I hear you!” Those words erupted out of me as if of their own will. I felt like I had been deaf all my life and had only just regained my sense of hearing.

The soldiers rejoiced at my passion for serving Res. I didn’t know how they got to this conclusion, but it didn’t matter to me. Our escape dropped to second place on my list of priorities, and what towered over it was the first time in years that, beyond any doubt, I had connected with another human being.

As our burst of joy simmered down, we had reached the front door of the shop. The initial joy in my heart, thumping with excitement, slowly warped into a wave of nervousness.