“…And this hallway contains both your room and mine, conveniently right next to each other. I don’t want you sneaking off or anything, do I?” He winked. “Besides, I might get thirsty in the night.” He led me into yet another room; it was a fairly large one, furnished nicely—if sparingly—but I wasn’t paying attention to that: I was focused on the giant falcon in the corner.
Standing on a perch with not so much as a piece of thread to keep it there was one of the biggest raptors—a gyrfalcon, I guessed—I’d ever seen. Zane immediately gestured to this falcon and said, with a hint of pride in his voice, “This is Meallán, my gyrfalcon.”
“Why isn’t he tethered?” I inquired.
Zane just shrugged. “He won’t go anywhere; he’s already been trained, unlike certain people in this room.” He grinned down at me, then added, “But I’ll get around to you in no time.”
I felt a shiver rack my spine again as Zane made some strange clicking noises in the back of his throat; the shiver turned into pure terror as the gyrfalcon—Meallán—shot off of his perch, wings flapping frantically, and rocketed right toward me.
His talons were stretched out in front of him, and I wanted to retreat, but I found that I was held in place by my own body, which was frozen with fear. So I simply closed my eyes and hoped it wouldn’t hurt too much, when suddenly I felt a bit of breeze, followed by a weight on my shoulder and the feeling of something sharp poking gently through my hair.
“He wouldn’t hurt you,” Zane said; I could hear the smirk in his voice. “And as for his beak in your hair, that’s how he gets to know who people are. He’s taking in your scent right now, and relating it to some various things that even I don’t know about. From now on, he’ll know you’re allowed in here, and won’t attack you unless I tell him to.”
Hesitantly, I opened my eyes to find that Zane was, in fact, watching me with a smirk on his face, and that Meallán was perched on my shoulder, and still poking through my hair. After a few more seconds, he put his head back up and abruptly flew over to Zane’s shoulder.
“Well, this sucks,” Zane said. “Here I am, with a pretty girl who has to do whatever I say, and is locked in my room, and I don’t know what to make you do. I mean, there’re limitless possibilities, and I’m completely clueless. And it’s not like I could ask you for suggestions or anything.”
I simply rolled my eyes and watched as Meallán flew back over to his perch and preened himself; Zane just brushed a feather off his shoulder and sat down on the edge of his bed, looking thoughtful for a short time before shrugging.
“Well, you are a maid,” he said, “so I guess I’ll put you to work. The bathroom needs cleaning—toilet, floors, sinks, the works—and this whole room needs dusting.”
After staring at him in disbelief for probably 5 full minutes, I turned and silently walked out of the room, got some supplies from my bag in the hallway, and headed to the bathroom. Still stoic, I got onto my hands and knees and began to scrub.
And scrub, and scrub, and scrub.
After ages and ages of scrubbing, I finally stood up, out of breath, and saw a sparkling clean bathroom. I then staggered out into the hallway and painstakingly replaced all the bits and pieces to where they’d been before. When I finally returned to Zane’s room, my knees and hands ached, and I had a slight headache from the fluorescent lighting.
But of course, Zane was armed with a duster when I walked in, and promptly—and with a cheery smile—handed it to me.
And so I dusted his room, and a few other rooms; and imagine my disgust when, after all that dusting, Zane greeted me by spilling his soda on the floor and immediately telling me to scrub the floor until you could no longer see the stain that marred it.
By this time, of course, my knees and hands were throbbing with pain, as well as my elbows, neck, and back, and I was generally exhausted beyond belief. I just wanted to go curl up in my own bed and have a good night’s rest. But instead I scrubbed Zane’s floor until, indeed, you could no longer see the stain.
Following which, I was asked to alphabetize his bookshelf.
Quietly cursing Zane’s name, I turned to do so, almost falling asleep at the tedious work, but finally finishing after what seemed to be an eternity of work. By now, my whole body ached, and I was about to just fall over on the floor and pass out. But nonetheless I stumbled back to Zane’s room, and was extremely relieved when he said, “No more hard work for today.”
My heart sank again, though, when he continued: “Instead, you get the honor of hanging out with me for the night.”
At my crestfallen face, he insisted, “Oh, don’t be that way. It’ll be fun; we’ll watch some movies, talk a while, maybe make some cookies or something…just hang out, get to know each other. After all, we’re going to be spending a lot of time with each other from now on.”
“Do I get a choice?” I asked. “’Cause if I do, my answer’s no.”
Zane shrugged. “In that case, no, you don’t get a choice,” he answered matter-of-factly, then grabbed me swiftly around the waist and effortlessly lifted me up and over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes.
He then carried me over to a couch and set me down. He slid himself down next to me, slinging his arm casually over my shoulders, but I could tell that he would tighten his grip if I tried to run for it. Then he grabbed a remote and flipped on the TV, channel-surfing for a while, until he reached a channel that was playing The Princess Bride.
“Perfect,” he said, without a trace of sarcasm, “a love story with swordfights, perfect for boys and girls alike. Have you seen it before?”
Scoffing, I rolled my eyes. “Are you kidding me? It’s a classic, for God’s sake! Of course I’ve seen it before. It’s one of the best movies of all time, and Westley is the original—and much better, might I add—Edward Cullen. Except he’s also a ‘pirate’ and a swordfighter and all that.”
I quickly clamped my mouth shut, having not meant to say that much, but Zane just grinned good-naturedly and turned up the volume, also tightening his grip and tugging me in a little closer to him. His grin turned into a smirk as he leaned his head on top of mine.
“Could you not?” I asked. “I may be single, but you’re so not my type.”
Rather than responding, he just cackled evilly and turned the volume up a little more. “Just watch the movie,” he finally said. “It’s just starting, I think…”
Before I knew it, I was free of Zane’s clutches, free of the freaking dress, free of everything, and spending my hours with Westley and Inigo Montoya, who I’d prefer any day to Zane. But before long, I felt my eyelids growing heavy, my breath slowing, and—to my horror, and his intense glee and amusement—my body slipping a little into his grip.
My eyes snapped open so that I could glare at him, and I shoved away. He shrugged nonchalantly and went back to the movie. I couldn't help but notice, though, the mischievous glint in his eyes.
I tried my best to remain alert, but it wasn’t long at all before I found myself drifting off again. Zane took the opportunity to sling his arm casually over my shoulders again, which woke me up immediately. I shot him a scathing look and grabbed his arm, throwing it at his own lap.
“Would you lay off?” I snapped, gesturing at his arm. “Seriously.”
Being Zane, he unflappably replied, “No,” and drape his arm yet again over my shoulders.
I elbowed him in the ribs. “What if I said that maybe—maybe—I’d kiss you willingly someday later, if you laid off with the arm thing, and maybe showed me to my room?”
Zane looked thoughtful for a moment, then replied, “I would say ‘Great,’ but who needs willing when I could just make you do it any time?” To accentuate his point, he leaned over and brushed my forehead with his lips, tightening his grip when I struggled.
Then he chuckled softly—and almost predator-like sound—and loosened his grip once more, straightening and turning back to the almost-forgotten movie.
“Fine, I’ll just find my own room,” I grumbled, stood—which made his arm fall off—and began walking towards the only visible door.
He grabbed my waist and stood up with me, purring, “How about I show you and then take a bit of payment for it?” He took a few steps forward so that he was even with me, one arm still around my waist, and looked amusedly down at me; I noticed that his sandy blonde hair fell attractively in his face, obscuring part of his crooked smirk.
Although my heart had admittedly sped up, I muttered, “No thanks,” and walked hurriedly out the door, taking a right, then a left, then another right, without thinking. Within a few minutes, I was hopelessly lost—and I knew it.
Feeling a little desperate, I opened the door in front of me, to find…nothing. I then took a few steadying breaths and opened the next door down—still nothing—then the door after that, and the door after that. When I finally found something, it was the last something I’d been hoping to see.
That something was Zane, who was lounging on the bed. I felt a foreboding sense in my stomach the moment the leer crept onto his face, and that sense was justified when he shifted a little to the side and asked, with a perfectly straight face, “Care to join me?”
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Chapter Fourteen: Disgust
Our conversation continued aimlessly after that, and we only left the room when we noticed the light from the window getting dimmer—the sun was setting already.
Jared stood in the doorway of the girls’ room and waved jauntily as I slid into my bed, which was right next to Kaliyan’s. “Get a good night’s sleep,” he advised. “You’ll most likely need it tomorrow—they always work you hardest in the beginning.”
“Thanks for the good news,” I muttered; he laughed and quietly closed the door. I stared up at the ceiling for a while, thinking about the people, the situation, being a maid, and basically my day in general before falling suddenly into a relatively deep and dreamless sleep.
-----
When I awoke, I noticed that there was a neatly folded dress at the edge of my bed. I grimaced—having been a tomboy all my life, I hated dresses or skirts of any kind—and lifted it into the air.
It was even worse than I’d first imagined.
With puffy sleeves and a slightly ruffled skirt that came to about an inch above where my knee would be, it was my worst nightmare, and it wasn’t helped by the fact that its trim was a light pink color; there was also a pink breast-piece. But, of course, I would probably get in trouble if I didn’t wear it—according to Chaska’s lie on the first day—so I reluctantly slipped it over my head.
Just as I had tied the matching pink bow into my ponytail, there was a knock on the door. “You can come in,” I said, having realized that no one else was there but Kaliyan, who was still fast asleep.
The door swung open to reveal a girl that couldn’t have been much older than me; she was possibly 17 or 18. She donned the same dress as I was, but her trim was a light powder blue instead of pink. “I’m Christine, and I’ll be your trainer today. You’ll be learning the general duties of a household maid, and be assigned to either a wing, room, area, or a specific person or group of people.”
Kaliyan chose that moment to sit up and rub her eyes blearily; Christine glanced over at her, sending her long black ponytail swinging into my face. While I made a grossed-out face, Kaliyan was sent into the storage room to change. Christine did not look happy.
“Wake up on time, please, and have your uniform on, teeth and hair brushed, hair in either a bun or a ponytail, and shoes and socks on and fastened,” she instructed, pointing to a pair of flat Mary Janes that was at the foot of my bed. I quickly sat and pulled them on.
Christine, when Kaliyan had emerged in her uniform, proceeded to lead each of us to a separate large room, and told us to dust, sweep, polish, etc., all of the surfaces and leave the room spotless. I went as quickly as I could, trying to ignore the fact that I was wearing a freaking dress, and when I finished, I went outside to see Christine waiting for me.
Looking slightly surprised and a little suspicious, she headed into my room and performed the white glove test on—I swear—every item in there. Finally, when she was satisfied, she nodded curtly and told me to wait in the hallway until Kaliyan was done, which only took about a minute.
“Please tell me someone’s going to save us soon,” Kaliyan muttered under her breath as we went from those rooms to what seemed to be an office. “I couldn’t stand being a maid.”
I shook my head. “I can’t stand these dresses.”
“Of course you can’t. You’ve always hated dresses, even the really cute ones. You always swore you were going to wear pants to prom, although I still don’t believe you.”
Rolling my eyes, I watched as Christine walked up to the desk and began speaking to the woman behind it in rapid Portuguese. The lady, after checking a file, nodded briskly, and said a name that sent a rack of fear down my spine: Zane, then a last name I’d never heard before: Faulkenrath.
“Sounds like him,” I mumbled to Kaliyan, careful to keep my voice very low. “It sounds dark and dangerous and disgusting.”
Kaliyan frowned. “I still don’t know who he is.”
Just as I opened my mouth to answer, Christine turned back towards us and said, in an authoritative voice, “Emily, you will be with Zane Faulkenrath; Kaliyan, you will be attending to the southwest hallway and its residents. Mr. Faulkenrath can be found in his quarters at the end of the northeast hallway. Your shifts begin in 5 minutes, and end 3 hours after they begin. You are dismissed.”
My best friend and I exchanged a glance, then walked out the door and in our separate directions—no doubt that was on purpose, as well as my assignment to Zane.
Why did I have to end up with him, of all people? I wondered as I made my way to his living quarters. I’ll be serving Zane. I’ll have to do whatever he says, or I’ll get into huge trouble, I then added miserably. This will definitely be horrible.
I knocked on the door with “Faulkenrath” written on it, hoping against hope that it was the wrong one—surely enough, though, it was Zane who answered the door, with his trademark leer. “You’re early,” he commented. “Are you really that excited to see me?”
“Hardly,” I replied, my tone curt.
Zane shook his finger at me, and said, “Now, now, don’t be that way. I’m your new boss, you know. You have to do whatever I want, or my boss will beat you up. Now, I know you want to be fired, so I’ve made it very clear that that’s not to happen—you’ll remain my maid until I say otherwise.”
He paused for a moment and tapped his chin, seemingly thinking hard, then said hurriedly, “I’m sorry, I almost forgot: these are my living quarters, which are also yours for the next few weeks. I’ve arranged your full-time stay here. Isn’t that great?”
“Yeah, it’s fantastic,” I said sarcastically.
Zane grinned. “Well, please allow me to show you around,” he requested, then grabbed my arm and tugged me inside, closing the door swiftly behind me.
And, of course, I could hardly miss the telltale click that followed.
Jared stood in the doorway of the girls’ room and waved jauntily as I slid into my bed, which was right next to Kaliyan’s. “Get a good night’s sleep,” he advised. “You’ll most likely need it tomorrow—they always work you hardest in the beginning.”
“Thanks for the good news,” I muttered; he laughed and quietly closed the door. I stared up at the ceiling for a while, thinking about the people, the situation, being a maid, and basically my day in general before falling suddenly into a relatively deep and dreamless sleep.
-----
When I awoke, I noticed that there was a neatly folded dress at the edge of my bed. I grimaced—having been a tomboy all my life, I hated dresses or skirts of any kind—and lifted it into the air.
It was even worse than I’d first imagined.
With puffy sleeves and a slightly ruffled skirt that came to about an inch above where my knee would be, it was my worst nightmare, and it wasn’t helped by the fact that its trim was a light pink color; there was also a pink breast-piece. But, of course, I would probably get in trouble if I didn’t wear it—according to Chaska’s lie on the first day—so I reluctantly slipped it over my head.
Just as I had tied the matching pink bow into my ponytail, there was a knock on the door. “You can come in,” I said, having realized that no one else was there but Kaliyan, who was still fast asleep.
The door swung open to reveal a girl that couldn’t have been much older than me; she was possibly 17 or 18. She donned the same dress as I was, but her trim was a light powder blue instead of pink. “I’m Christine, and I’ll be your trainer today. You’ll be learning the general duties of a household maid, and be assigned to either a wing, room, area, or a specific person or group of people.”
Kaliyan chose that moment to sit up and rub her eyes blearily; Christine glanced over at her, sending her long black ponytail swinging into my face. While I made a grossed-out face, Kaliyan was sent into the storage room to change. Christine did not look happy.
“Wake up on time, please, and have your uniform on, teeth and hair brushed, hair in either a bun or a ponytail, and shoes and socks on and fastened,” she instructed, pointing to a pair of flat Mary Janes that was at the foot of my bed. I quickly sat and pulled them on.
Christine, when Kaliyan had emerged in her uniform, proceeded to lead each of us to a separate large room, and told us to dust, sweep, polish, etc., all of the surfaces and leave the room spotless. I went as quickly as I could, trying to ignore the fact that I was wearing a freaking dress, and when I finished, I went outside to see Christine waiting for me.
Looking slightly surprised and a little suspicious, she headed into my room and performed the white glove test on—I swear—every item in there. Finally, when she was satisfied, she nodded curtly and told me to wait in the hallway until Kaliyan was done, which only took about a minute.
“Please tell me someone’s going to save us soon,” Kaliyan muttered under her breath as we went from those rooms to what seemed to be an office. “I couldn’t stand being a maid.”
I shook my head. “I can’t stand these dresses.”
“Of course you can’t. You’ve always hated dresses, even the really cute ones. You always swore you were going to wear pants to prom, although I still don’t believe you.”
Rolling my eyes, I watched as Christine walked up to the desk and began speaking to the woman behind it in rapid Portuguese. The lady, after checking a file, nodded briskly, and said a name that sent a rack of fear down my spine: Zane, then a last name I’d never heard before: Faulkenrath.
“Sounds like him,” I mumbled to Kaliyan, careful to keep my voice very low. “It sounds dark and dangerous and disgusting.”
Kaliyan frowned. “I still don’t know who he is.”
Just as I opened my mouth to answer, Christine turned back towards us and said, in an authoritative voice, “Emily, you will be with Zane Faulkenrath; Kaliyan, you will be attending to the southwest hallway and its residents. Mr. Faulkenrath can be found in his quarters at the end of the northeast hallway. Your shifts begin in 5 minutes, and end 3 hours after they begin. You are dismissed.”
My best friend and I exchanged a glance, then walked out the door and in our separate directions—no doubt that was on purpose, as well as my assignment to Zane.
Why did I have to end up with him, of all people? I wondered as I made my way to his living quarters. I’ll be serving Zane. I’ll have to do whatever he says, or I’ll get into huge trouble, I then added miserably. This will definitely be horrible.
I knocked on the door with “Faulkenrath” written on it, hoping against hope that it was the wrong one—surely enough, though, it was Zane who answered the door, with his trademark leer. “You’re early,” he commented. “Are you really that excited to see me?”
“Hardly,” I replied, my tone curt.
Zane shook his finger at me, and said, “Now, now, don’t be that way. I’m your new boss, you know. You have to do whatever I want, or my boss will beat you up. Now, I know you want to be fired, so I’ve made it very clear that that’s not to happen—you’ll remain my maid until I say otherwise.”
He paused for a moment and tapped his chin, seemingly thinking hard, then said hurriedly, “I’m sorry, I almost forgot: these are my living quarters, which are also yours for the next few weeks. I’ve arranged your full-time stay here. Isn’t that great?”
“Yeah, it’s fantastic,” I said sarcastically.
Zane grinned. “Well, please allow me to show you around,” he requested, then grabbed my arm and tugged me inside, closing the door swiftly behind me.
And, of course, I could hardly miss the telltale click that followed.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Chapter Thirteen: Bluejay Feathers
El Author's Note: Just so you know: No, Jared's nickname isn't from Inkspell. That was an accident, and I laughed when I read about someone with the same nickname. Also, that weird language that infested my real blog has come over here. The title is just "Chapter Thirteen", in case it became the language. I'm typing this in HTML mode. Anyway, enjoy the story.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I said, slightly sarcastically.
He grinned, still looking slightly uncertain. “Well, we, um, got hired,” he said. “As you can probably tell. But, you know…”
I nodded. “Thanks great,” I said, trying my best to sound cheery. “It’s too bad that…” I faked a coughing fit so I could think of the false name that Kaliyan had given Skylar, “Um, too bad that Bandit ran off. I should probably talk to Mr. Donovan to see if I still got the job.”
There was a light tap on the door before it swung open, revealing a very weary-looking Kaliyan, whose face brightened when she saw me. “You were gone for a while,” she commented. “What…how far did Bandit go, anyway?”
I shrugged. “I tripped a few times—you know how much of a klutz I can be—but he came back eventually, with a dead rabbit in his mouth.” I rolled my eyes. “Silly dog.”
The other boy in the room looked confusedly from me to Felix, but finally just turned back to Felix and began whispering; the young Brazilian boys both looked very serious, and both kept glancing at me from time to time as they talked.
Finally, slightly impatient, I cleared my throat. “So, did I get the job or what?” I asked Kaliyan, who was still leaning uncertainly against the wall, spacing off.
She looked up quickly and answered, “I think so. We didn’t really get interviewed or anything, just kind of got sent off to the rooms. These’re just for our age group, by the way. The ages go from, like, 7 to about 40-something. I mean, a couple 7-year-old boys ran across the hallway groaning that they were late for field work. Little boys doing field work! Isn’t that insane?”
Nodding, I headed out into the hallway to have a look around, and was more than a little surprised when Chaska followed me out. He bit his lip, as if considering something, then held a hand out to me, from which was dangling none other than my backpack, looking worn.
I took it, muttered a quick, “Thanks,” and dashed off down the hall, indeed running into a few younger children in my travels. I was thinking long and hard about Chaska, and wondering where his allegiances lay. He worked for Mr. Donovan, but he’d also helped me. Was he a spy, or did he really care?
Maybe he’s neither, I thought, just curious about me. I mean, I’m an outsider that he’s never seen before, and I got knocked out…so maybe—
Suddenly, the breath was knocked out of me as I walked straight into a boy who looked quite as preoccupied as I’m sure I must have. As well as dusty brown eyes, he had thrillingly blue hair, which momentarily caught me off guard as I stumbled and fell backwards, both from the collision and from his shocking appearance.
He blushed profusely and apologized, then gallantly offered his hand, which I accepted with an embarrassed smile.
He seemed to get over his embarrassment quickly, though, as he gave a lopsided grin and introduced himself as Jared. “Nice to see someone pale around here,” he commented, nodding at my almost paper-white skin, which was splashed—more like infested—with freckles.
I grinned right back. “I definitely second that,” I said, then glanced up at his hair. “Is that your natural hair color?” I questioned jokingly, and was more than a little surprised when he nodded seriously and gingerly touched his slightly spiked locks.
“Yeah, actually,” he said, shrugging. “I have a rare disease that causes my hair to be blue. I could never remember the whole name, but there’re only 2 or 3 people who have it.”
My mouth dropped. “Really? Does it affect anything else?”
He shook his head. “Nope, it’s just the hair. All over my body, so when I have facial hair, it’ll be blue as well. Pretty insane, eh?”
I nodded and replied, “I’ve never heard of such a thing before.”
“That’s ‘cause there is no such thing,” Jared said, the lopsided grin coming back, slightly mocking, but in a friendly way. “You totally fell for that,” the blue-haired boy gasped through his sudden burst of laughter, leaning against one of the adobe walls.
With a roll of my eyes, I said, “I sure did; you’re a good liar, Bluejay. So where’re you from?”
Jared raised an eyebrow. “Bluejay?”’
“Yeah, Bluejay. Your name’s Jared, and Jared starts with a J, and your hair is blue. What, don’t you like your new nickname?” I fake-pouted.
“Sure I like it. And I’m from the States, actually. I’m just here for the summer to visit some people, and I wanted to make a few cents. So I came here. But…” He suddenly grabbed my arm, and beckoned me into one of the empty rooms that lined the hallway. Then he looked seriously into my eyes—this time it really was serious, I could tell—and whispered, “Can you keep a secret?”
I nodded; my heart was pounding. Maybe Jared had a clue about the veneno powder that could help me get Skylar back to normal again.
But I was disappointed in that aspect—but very pleased overall with what he said next: “The plants they grow here, they’re called ‘poison’ in the local tongue, and…well, there’re people with ESP and all that stuff, for real.” He checked my face for any sign of my not believing him, but my expression was instead a very sardonic one. “What?”
“It’s just…I have ESP, I guess you could say. I’m precognitive.” At his slightly shocked look, I continued. “I see the future in my dreams, usually conversations or that sort of thing. A few of my friends have ESP too; I know a telepath, a psychometric, and a couple clairvoyants.” He finally nodded, still looking lost. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, I thought to myself, smiling. “Anyway, keep going.”
By now, Jared’s mouth was hanging way open, and it was a few seconds before he closed it partly and responded, “Wow. I’ve met my match, I guess. I’m retrocognitive, actually, also by way of dreams. I’ve never met anyone else with ESP before. Nice to meet you…um…”
It was then that I realized that I hadn’t given him my name. “I’m Emily,” I said, grinning, “and jealous that your talent can be put to use at school.”
Jared laughed, running a hand through his azure hair. “Yeah, well, yours is cooler. I don’t really like being retrocognitive much, actually. It’s not much use knowing about some old man who died a hundred years ago or something.”
“I guess that’s true,” I said. “Lots of retrocognitive people are mediums too…maybe you’ll develop medium abilities later. That’d make it a lot cooler, wouldn’t it?”
“Yeah, it would make it cooler,” Jared answered, then quickly resumed speaking. “Anyway, people with ESP can obviously stop having ESP as they get older. Most people lose their ESP by about the time they enter school, if not before so. Most people with ESP, once they enter middle or late adolescence, experience either the rapid growth, or disappearance, of their powers. Most often, of course, it’s the disappearance that goes into effect, but sometimes people sustain the ESP.
“Those who do usually go onto great careers, preferring to make themselves extremely well-known and use their powers often, which causes them to go extremely insane, or show signs of growing old in, say, their 40s or 50s. Sometimes earlier.”
He cleared his throat. “Anyway, that’s got nothing to do with anything. What I mean to say is, the plant’s powder is basically a damper for ESP, and it’s really powerful. I haven’t seen a thing since I came here…but they say it wears off at some point, like a few years.”
“No crap,” I responded sarcastically. “That’s not hard to figure out with a little research. That’s why I’m here, actually; one of my friends is having a few problems. But there’s actually an instant—we hope—cure for it, which isn’t proven quite yet, but we got word from a reliable source that it was effective, so…you know, we’ve got high expectations.”
Jared raised an eyebrow. “Who’s ‘we’?” he asked shortly.
“My friends and I. My best friend Kaliyan, the telepath, Felix, a kid I met in Manaus, and Skylar, who’s…a really long story.” I shrugged.
“We’ve got plenty of time.”
I sighed, knowing that there was probably no way out of the conversation. “He’s just some kid I met a while ago, didn’t see for a really long time, and just met again a few days ago, that’s all. He’s…different. Even more so than you and me,” I said hurriedly, trying to avoid talking about it too much, while giving some of the information so that Jared might refrain from questioning me.
Jared himself, however, just slowly slid down the nearby wall and to the ground, staring straight ahead of him and looking slightly lost. “He’s the dog,” he said flatly, and at first I was slightly offended that he referred to Skylar like that, but then realized that he meant that Skylar had been acting as my guide dog, and nodded firmly in way of response.
“Yeah. He somehow got some of the poison on him, I guess, and now he’s stuck in wolf form,” I explained, “which is why we came here. I think I’m losing my psychic abilities, too, but it’s slowly, like I haven’t had much contact with it or something…I don’t know.”
Jared, made somber by the topic, shook his head dejectedly. “No one knows anything these days.”
“Yeah, it’s me,” I said, slightly sarcastically.
He grinned, still looking slightly uncertain. “Well, we, um, got hired,” he said. “As you can probably tell. But, you know…”
I nodded. “Thanks great,” I said, trying my best to sound cheery. “It’s too bad that…” I faked a coughing fit so I could think of the false name that Kaliyan had given Skylar, “Um, too bad that Bandit ran off. I should probably talk to Mr. Donovan to see if I still got the job.”
There was a light tap on the door before it swung open, revealing a very weary-looking Kaliyan, whose face brightened when she saw me. “You were gone for a while,” she commented. “What…how far did Bandit go, anyway?”
I shrugged. “I tripped a few times—you know how much of a klutz I can be—but he came back eventually, with a dead rabbit in his mouth.” I rolled my eyes. “Silly dog.”
The other boy in the room looked confusedly from me to Felix, but finally just turned back to Felix and began whispering; the young Brazilian boys both looked very serious, and both kept glancing at me from time to time as they talked.
Finally, slightly impatient, I cleared my throat. “So, did I get the job or what?” I asked Kaliyan, who was still leaning uncertainly against the wall, spacing off.
She looked up quickly and answered, “I think so. We didn’t really get interviewed or anything, just kind of got sent off to the rooms. These’re just for our age group, by the way. The ages go from, like, 7 to about 40-something. I mean, a couple 7-year-old boys ran across the hallway groaning that they were late for field work. Little boys doing field work! Isn’t that insane?”
Nodding, I headed out into the hallway to have a look around, and was more than a little surprised when Chaska followed me out. He bit his lip, as if considering something, then held a hand out to me, from which was dangling none other than my backpack, looking worn.
I took it, muttered a quick, “Thanks,” and dashed off down the hall, indeed running into a few younger children in my travels. I was thinking long and hard about Chaska, and wondering where his allegiances lay. He worked for Mr. Donovan, but he’d also helped me. Was he a spy, or did he really care?
Maybe he’s neither, I thought, just curious about me. I mean, I’m an outsider that he’s never seen before, and I got knocked out…so maybe—
Suddenly, the breath was knocked out of me as I walked straight into a boy who looked quite as preoccupied as I’m sure I must have. As well as dusty brown eyes, he had thrillingly blue hair, which momentarily caught me off guard as I stumbled and fell backwards, both from the collision and from his shocking appearance.
He blushed profusely and apologized, then gallantly offered his hand, which I accepted with an embarrassed smile.
He seemed to get over his embarrassment quickly, though, as he gave a lopsided grin and introduced himself as Jared. “Nice to see someone pale around here,” he commented, nodding at my almost paper-white skin, which was splashed—more like infested—with freckles.
I grinned right back. “I definitely second that,” I said, then glanced up at his hair. “Is that your natural hair color?” I questioned jokingly, and was more than a little surprised when he nodded seriously and gingerly touched his slightly spiked locks.
“Yeah, actually,” he said, shrugging. “I have a rare disease that causes my hair to be blue. I could never remember the whole name, but there’re only 2 or 3 people who have it.”
My mouth dropped. “Really? Does it affect anything else?”
He shook his head. “Nope, it’s just the hair. All over my body, so when I have facial hair, it’ll be blue as well. Pretty insane, eh?”
I nodded and replied, “I’ve never heard of such a thing before.”
“That’s ‘cause there is no such thing,” Jared said, the lopsided grin coming back, slightly mocking, but in a friendly way. “You totally fell for that,” the blue-haired boy gasped through his sudden burst of laughter, leaning against one of the adobe walls.
With a roll of my eyes, I said, “I sure did; you’re a good liar, Bluejay. So where’re you from?”
Jared raised an eyebrow. “Bluejay?”’
“Yeah, Bluejay. Your name’s Jared, and Jared starts with a J, and your hair is blue. What, don’t you like your new nickname?” I fake-pouted.
“Sure I like it. And I’m from the States, actually. I’m just here for the summer to visit some people, and I wanted to make a few cents. So I came here. But…” He suddenly grabbed my arm, and beckoned me into one of the empty rooms that lined the hallway. Then he looked seriously into my eyes—this time it really was serious, I could tell—and whispered, “Can you keep a secret?”
I nodded; my heart was pounding. Maybe Jared had a clue about the veneno powder that could help me get Skylar back to normal again.
But I was disappointed in that aspect—but very pleased overall with what he said next: “The plants they grow here, they’re called ‘poison’ in the local tongue, and…well, there’re people with ESP and all that stuff, for real.” He checked my face for any sign of my not believing him, but my expression was instead a very sardonic one. “What?”
“It’s just…I have ESP, I guess you could say. I’m precognitive.” At his slightly shocked look, I continued. “I see the future in my dreams, usually conversations or that sort of thing. A few of my friends have ESP too; I know a telepath, a psychometric, and a couple clairvoyants.” He finally nodded, still looking lost. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, I thought to myself, smiling. “Anyway, keep going.”
By now, Jared’s mouth was hanging way open, and it was a few seconds before he closed it partly and responded, “Wow. I’ve met my match, I guess. I’m retrocognitive, actually, also by way of dreams. I’ve never met anyone else with ESP before. Nice to meet you…um…”
It was then that I realized that I hadn’t given him my name. “I’m Emily,” I said, grinning, “and jealous that your talent can be put to use at school.”
Jared laughed, running a hand through his azure hair. “Yeah, well, yours is cooler. I don’t really like being retrocognitive much, actually. It’s not much use knowing about some old man who died a hundred years ago or something.”
“I guess that’s true,” I said. “Lots of retrocognitive people are mediums too…maybe you’ll develop medium abilities later. That’d make it a lot cooler, wouldn’t it?”
“Yeah, it would make it cooler,” Jared answered, then quickly resumed speaking. “Anyway, people with ESP can obviously stop having ESP as they get older. Most people lose their ESP by about the time they enter school, if not before so. Most people with ESP, once they enter middle or late adolescence, experience either the rapid growth, or disappearance, of their powers. Most often, of course, it’s the disappearance that goes into effect, but sometimes people sustain the ESP.
“Those who do usually go onto great careers, preferring to make themselves extremely well-known and use their powers often, which causes them to go extremely insane, or show signs of growing old in, say, their 40s or 50s. Sometimes earlier.”
He cleared his throat. “Anyway, that’s got nothing to do with anything. What I mean to say is, the plant’s powder is basically a damper for ESP, and it’s really powerful. I haven’t seen a thing since I came here…but they say it wears off at some point, like a few years.”
“No crap,” I responded sarcastically. “That’s not hard to figure out with a little research. That’s why I’m here, actually; one of my friends is having a few problems. But there’s actually an instant—we hope—cure for it, which isn’t proven quite yet, but we got word from a reliable source that it was effective, so…you know, we’ve got high expectations.”
Jared raised an eyebrow. “Who’s ‘we’?” he asked shortly.
“My friends and I. My best friend Kaliyan, the telepath, Felix, a kid I met in Manaus, and Skylar, who’s…a really long story.” I shrugged.
“We’ve got plenty of time.”
I sighed, knowing that there was probably no way out of the conversation. “He’s just some kid I met a while ago, didn’t see for a really long time, and just met again a few days ago, that’s all. He’s…different. Even more so than you and me,” I said hurriedly, trying to avoid talking about it too much, while giving some of the information so that Jared might refrain from questioning me.
Jared himself, however, just slowly slid down the nearby wall and to the ground, staring straight ahead of him and looking slightly lost. “He’s the dog,” he said flatly, and at first I was slightly offended that he referred to Skylar like that, but then realized that he meant that Skylar had been acting as my guide dog, and nodded firmly in way of response.
“Yeah. He somehow got some of the poison on him, I guess, and now he’s stuck in wolf form,” I explained, “which is why we came here. I think I’m losing my psychic abilities, too, but it’s slowly, like I haven’t had much contact with it or something…I don’t know.”
Jared, made somber by the topic, shook his head dejectedly. “No one knows anything these days.”
Monday, August 10, 2009
Chapter Twelve: A Knock-Out Time
We reached the estate in only a few minutes longer, and all made sure that we looked presentable. I put on some sunglasses and Skylar a worn leather collar and harness. The others just smoothed out their clothes, ran their fingers through their hair, and hoped for the best.
After walking up a fairly long path to reach the door, Kaliyan rang the bell. A maid came to the door in seconds. “Hello, and welcome to the home of Mr. Donovan,” she said politely. “What is your business here, if I may ask?”
Resisting the urge to push past her and go, ‘No, you may not ask,’ I smiled shyly back. “We heard that Mr. Donovan was in need of some workers, and since no one would return our messages, we decided to pay him a visit, if that’s alright.”
“Oh, I see,” the maid responded. “Well, please come in, but leave the dog outside.”
“We can’t leave Bandit outside, ma’am,” Kaliyan protested, making up a name on the spot. “He’s her guide dog…she’s significantly sight impaired, and can’t get around in an unfamiliar place without him. It’s very important that he be with us.”
Sighing, the maid ran a hand over her face. “Alright,” she assented finally. “Just make sure there are no ‘presents’ left for Mr. Donovan.”
“Of course we will. He may have only been trained recently, but that just means that his teachings are fresh in his mind, not that he’s a badly behaved dog. Come on, Teresa,” Kaliyan replied, then grabbed my left hand—the one not holding Skylar’s harness—and dragged me into the building. Felix followed.
As we walked, I milled over the name of the land owner. It seemed familiar for some reason, as if I’d heard the name before. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that, in the near past, I’d heard the name, from someone that was a stranger before then.
“Wait here,” the maid said, stopping suddenly. Without my realizing it, we’d arrived in a long corridor, specifically at a tall wooden door, which the maid was opening. “I’ll be back in a moment. I’m just going to ask Mr. Donovan for an audience with you.”
We all nodded, and she disappeared through the door.
A few moments later, she reappeared and shrugged. “He requested that one of the current workers show you around, but I’m quite busy at the moment, so I’ll fetch one of the field workers to take you on a tour of some sort. We can always use some extra hands around here, so I’d wager that you’re hired. Congratulations. Now, off to find one of the workers…Marco, perhaps…”
She bustled down the hall ahead of us, and our group quickly followed. Soon, Skylar said, and I had a feeling that the comment was only for me. I’ll run soon. Resist for a few seconds, then just let the harness slip from your grip and I’ll run…I can smell the plants from here. Okay?
I nodded, just barely moving my head, but I could feel him relax—he’d heard.
After walking for a while longer, the maid stopped and yelled, “Marco!” Soon, a tall, brawny man drove up in a tractor.
“You called me?”
The maid sighed. “Yes, Marco, I called you. These kids here just came for—”
“Came for jobs, didn’t they? And I’m the one that’s got to tour them and train them and all that,” Marco cut in tiredly. “Yeah, alright, I’ll do it.” He jumped off the tractor and glanced once at Skylar, then at the maid, then at Felix, Kaliyan, and I, in turn. “Well, let’s go.”
Afterwards, I can’t tell you that I learned a thing besides the fact that Skylar is fast. And I don’t mean, like, as fast as a wolf. I mean about triple that, with an extra burst of speed now and again. And then you have me, who has an almost 10-minute mile.
Guess who had the lead in our little fake-chase?
When I finally caught up to him, in a field of vine-like plants—veneno—I stumbled to a halt and picked a few, studying the blood-red berries that grew along the stems. They certainly looked poisonous, but I trusted Dr. Kingston enough to stick them in my bag, sticking the grapes that I’d had in there previously in the ground; I knew that they wouldn’t have fallen for my empty bag suddenly filling up.
I wandered around a little, taking in the scenery—it really was beautiful here, if you ignored all the poisonous berries and everything. Just as I was walking around a rather large tree, I felt the air move a little behind me, and a shadow suddenly fell over me. I whipped around to see Zane, leaning casually against the trunk of the tree, a wide leer on his face.
He was sporting a skin-tight black shirt and loose khaki cargos—a pretty casual outfit, but somehow it made my heart leap in my chest, especially after I realized that it was my first time seeing him in critical daylight. His blonde hair was shaggy, and fell haphazardly in his face, partly obscuring his eyes, which were a plain hazel-blue that still made me jittery.
“Well,” he drawled, “I was looking for the mutt, but it looks like I found his plaything instead.” As he spoke, he was moving lithely towards me, and before I knew it he was standing not a foot away, the leer still prominent on his face.
I swallowed a nervous squeak. “What’re you doing here?”
Zane chuckled quietly and moved up a little more, slinging his arm companionably over my shoulder and shrugging, all in one motion. “I live here, don’t I?” he asked rhetorically. At my surprised reaction, he continued, “Yeah, I do.” Suddenly his expression turned from amiable to uncertain, tinged with bitterness. “I really wish I didn’t have to do this, doll, but I do, so just hold still.”
He took a deep breath, then sucker punched me. “It’ll be over in no time,” he whispered as I sank to my knees, watching everything fade to black.
--
When I slowly came to, I felt a sharp stab of pain in the back of my head, but took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. I then opened my eyes, which seemed to be a fairly remarkable feat, all things considering; my gaze immediately settled on the concerned, boyish face that was hovering above my own.
I took a few moments to study the face, and the young man that it belonged to. He looked to be in his high teens, maybe 18 or 19, and had disheveled black hair and a deeply tanned face—if I’d had to guess, I’d have said that he looked Native American.
When I tuned back in, I saw that his face had suddenly split by a relieved smile when he noticed that my eyes were open. “Thank goodness, you’re conscious,” he whispered. “I was beginning to think that you’d never come to, after how hard Blondie hit you…”
I swallowed. “Who are you?” I asked, curious, my voice croaky but at normal volume. “And who’s ‘Blondie’?” I added, although I had an idea.
The young man’s face became worried again as he pressed his hand over my mouth, looking frantically to both sides before letting up on the pressure and hissing, “Keep quiet, or someone will notice us.” Then, after a few more glances to the sides, he answered, “I’m Chaska, and ‘Blondie’ is Zane, the one who knocked you out. I’m really sorry about that, by the way.”
Nodding, I replied, “It’s okay; you don’t need to be sorry. I mean, it’s not like it was your fault or anything.” I laughed lightheartedly, then hesitantly fingered the back of my head. “How did you find me, anyway? I was in a corner of this garden when—” Suddenly my eyes widened. “Where’s Skylar? Where are my other friends? They—”
Chaska blinked, and interrupted. “I found you because I was tending that particular garden at the time, and saw Blondie—er, Zane—hit you. I just waited for a while, then came up and tried to help. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up ever since. I’ll take you to your friends now—they’re not far.”
I rubbed my eyes and sat up, hearing—not to mention feeling—my joints pop and crack, aching a little from the awkward position I’d been in; I’d been propped up against the tree, and the curved surface had made my back curve with it, making for serious pain there.
“Skylar’s…my dog,” I answered at last. “I didn’t see him anywhere, so I was just sort of worried about him. It’s okay, though; he’ll be back.”
The slightly relieved look that was still lingering on Chaska’s face slowly made way for a concerned, almost wary, one as he nodded slowly and stood up. “Can you walk?” he asked me; I nodded, and immediately stood up as well. It was my head that hurt, not my legs.
Chaska, still looking concerned, nodded approvingly and began walking, one hand loosely grasping mine as he led me back to the building. “Just play along,” he whispered to me, his breath tickling my ear. When he straightened, I noticed that he was wearing the uniform of one of Mr. Donovan’s workers.
A couple of brawny men passed to our left, and the red-haired one, on the left, raised a questioning eyebrow when he saw me.
Chaska rolled his eyes. “She wasn’t wearing her uniform—she’s in training to be a maid. I doubt that she’ll get hired now, though.” I tried to look sheepish, and the two men laughed good-naturedly, winking at me as they passed, and didn’t pay us another thought.
I was steered a little further, before being led into a lengthy hallway, where Chaska kicked open a door on the left and led me inside, where I discovered two separate rooms, with a bunk bed each. We entered the one labeled ‘boys,’ and I soon found Felix talking to another boy.
Felix looked up abruptly, looking alarmed. “Oh, it’s you,” he said, sounding immensely relieved.
After walking up a fairly long path to reach the door, Kaliyan rang the bell. A maid came to the door in seconds. “Hello, and welcome to the home of Mr. Donovan,” she said politely. “What is your business here, if I may ask?”
Resisting the urge to push past her and go, ‘No, you may not ask,’ I smiled shyly back. “We heard that Mr. Donovan was in need of some workers, and since no one would return our messages, we decided to pay him a visit, if that’s alright.”
“Oh, I see,” the maid responded. “Well, please come in, but leave the dog outside.”
“We can’t leave Bandit outside, ma’am,” Kaliyan protested, making up a name on the spot. “He’s her guide dog…she’s significantly sight impaired, and can’t get around in an unfamiliar place without him. It’s very important that he be with us.”
Sighing, the maid ran a hand over her face. “Alright,” she assented finally. “Just make sure there are no ‘presents’ left for Mr. Donovan.”
“Of course we will. He may have only been trained recently, but that just means that his teachings are fresh in his mind, not that he’s a badly behaved dog. Come on, Teresa,” Kaliyan replied, then grabbed my left hand—the one not holding Skylar’s harness—and dragged me into the building. Felix followed.
As we walked, I milled over the name of the land owner. It seemed familiar for some reason, as if I’d heard the name before. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that, in the near past, I’d heard the name, from someone that was a stranger before then.
“Wait here,” the maid said, stopping suddenly. Without my realizing it, we’d arrived in a long corridor, specifically at a tall wooden door, which the maid was opening. “I’ll be back in a moment. I’m just going to ask Mr. Donovan for an audience with you.”
We all nodded, and she disappeared through the door.
A few moments later, she reappeared and shrugged. “He requested that one of the current workers show you around, but I’m quite busy at the moment, so I’ll fetch one of the field workers to take you on a tour of some sort. We can always use some extra hands around here, so I’d wager that you’re hired. Congratulations. Now, off to find one of the workers…Marco, perhaps…”
She bustled down the hall ahead of us, and our group quickly followed. Soon, Skylar said, and I had a feeling that the comment was only for me. I’ll run soon. Resist for a few seconds, then just let the harness slip from your grip and I’ll run…I can smell the plants from here. Okay?
I nodded, just barely moving my head, but I could feel him relax—he’d heard.
After walking for a while longer, the maid stopped and yelled, “Marco!” Soon, a tall, brawny man drove up in a tractor.
“You called me?”
The maid sighed. “Yes, Marco, I called you. These kids here just came for—”
“Came for jobs, didn’t they? And I’m the one that’s got to tour them and train them and all that,” Marco cut in tiredly. “Yeah, alright, I’ll do it.” He jumped off the tractor and glanced once at Skylar, then at the maid, then at Felix, Kaliyan, and I, in turn. “Well, let’s go.”
Afterwards, I can’t tell you that I learned a thing besides the fact that Skylar is fast. And I don’t mean, like, as fast as a wolf. I mean about triple that, with an extra burst of speed now and again. And then you have me, who has an almost 10-minute mile.
Guess who had the lead in our little fake-chase?
When I finally caught up to him, in a field of vine-like plants—veneno—I stumbled to a halt and picked a few, studying the blood-red berries that grew along the stems. They certainly looked poisonous, but I trusted Dr. Kingston enough to stick them in my bag, sticking the grapes that I’d had in there previously in the ground; I knew that they wouldn’t have fallen for my empty bag suddenly filling up.
I wandered around a little, taking in the scenery—it really was beautiful here, if you ignored all the poisonous berries and everything. Just as I was walking around a rather large tree, I felt the air move a little behind me, and a shadow suddenly fell over me. I whipped around to see Zane, leaning casually against the trunk of the tree, a wide leer on his face.
He was sporting a skin-tight black shirt and loose khaki cargos—a pretty casual outfit, but somehow it made my heart leap in my chest, especially after I realized that it was my first time seeing him in critical daylight. His blonde hair was shaggy, and fell haphazardly in his face, partly obscuring his eyes, which were a plain hazel-blue that still made me jittery.
“Well,” he drawled, “I was looking for the mutt, but it looks like I found his plaything instead.” As he spoke, he was moving lithely towards me, and before I knew it he was standing not a foot away, the leer still prominent on his face.
I swallowed a nervous squeak. “What’re you doing here?”
Zane chuckled quietly and moved up a little more, slinging his arm companionably over my shoulder and shrugging, all in one motion. “I live here, don’t I?” he asked rhetorically. At my surprised reaction, he continued, “Yeah, I do.” Suddenly his expression turned from amiable to uncertain, tinged with bitterness. “I really wish I didn’t have to do this, doll, but I do, so just hold still.”
He took a deep breath, then sucker punched me. “It’ll be over in no time,” he whispered as I sank to my knees, watching everything fade to black.
--
When I slowly came to, I felt a sharp stab of pain in the back of my head, but took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. I then opened my eyes, which seemed to be a fairly remarkable feat, all things considering; my gaze immediately settled on the concerned, boyish face that was hovering above my own.
I took a few moments to study the face, and the young man that it belonged to. He looked to be in his high teens, maybe 18 or 19, and had disheveled black hair and a deeply tanned face—if I’d had to guess, I’d have said that he looked Native American.
When I tuned back in, I saw that his face had suddenly split by a relieved smile when he noticed that my eyes were open. “Thank goodness, you’re conscious,” he whispered. “I was beginning to think that you’d never come to, after how hard Blondie hit you…”
I swallowed. “Who are you?” I asked, curious, my voice croaky but at normal volume. “And who’s ‘Blondie’?” I added, although I had an idea.
The young man’s face became worried again as he pressed his hand over my mouth, looking frantically to both sides before letting up on the pressure and hissing, “Keep quiet, or someone will notice us.” Then, after a few more glances to the sides, he answered, “I’m Chaska, and ‘Blondie’ is Zane, the one who knocked you out. I’m really sorry about that, by the way.”
Nodding, I replied, “It’s okay; you don’t need to be sorry. I mean, it’s not like it was your fault or anything.” I laughed lightheartedly, then hesitantly fingered the back of my head. “How did you find me, anyway? I was in a corner of this garden when—” Suddenly my eyes widened. “Where’s Skylar? Where are my other friends? They—”
Chaska blinked, and interrupted. “I found you because I was tending that particular garden at the time, and saw Blondie—er, Zane—hit you. I just waited for a while, then came up and tried to help. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up ever since. I’ll take you to your friends now—they’re not far.”
I rubbed my eyes and sat up, hearing—not to mention feeling—my joints pop and crack, aching a little from the awkward position I’d been in; I’d been propped up against the tree, and the curved surface had made my back curve with it, making for serious pain there.
“Skylar’s…my dog,” I answered at last. “I didn’t see him anywhere, so I was just sort of worried about him. It’s okay, though; he’ll be back.”
The slightly relieved look that was still lingering on Chaska’s face slowly made way for a concerned, almost wary, one as he nodded slowly and stood up. “Can you walk?” he asked me; I nodded, and immediately stood up as well. It was my head that hurt, not my legs.
Chaska, still looking concerned, nodded approvingly and began walking, one hand loosely grasping mine as he led me back to the building. “Just play along,” he whispered to me, his breath tickling my ear. When he straightened, I noticed that he was wearing the uniform of one of Mr. Donovan’s workers.
A couple of brawny men passed to our left, and the red-haired one, on the left, raised a questioning eyebrow when he saw me.
Chaska rolled his eyes. “She wasn’t wearing her uniform—she’s in training to be a maid. I doubt that she’ll get hired now, though.” I tried to look sheepish, and the two men laughed good-naturedly, winking at me as they passed, and didn’t pay us another thought.
I was steered a little further, before being led into a lengthy hallway, where Chaska kicked open a door on the left and led me inside, where I discovered two separate rooms, with a bunk bed each. We entered the one labeled ‘boys,’ and I soon found Felix talking to another boy.
Felix looked up abruptly, looking alarmed. “Oh, it’s you,” he said, sounding immensely relieved.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Chapter Eleven: Electrified
After we’d packed our meager possessions into some old backpacks that Dr. Kingston had had, we said our goodbyes to him. They weren’t all that emotional, of course; the doctor simply gave us a few awkward pats on the back, waved, and we were gone. Still, I felt as if I was leaving somewhere that’d been a home to me, however short a time we’d stayed there.
We walked for a while, then went to sleep. (I'm writing this later. So there.)
I was awoken by a sharp crackling of twigs, and my eyes flew open when a dark shadow fell over me, seconds later. All I could see were two bluish-hazel eyes and a few strands of sandy blonde hair, but I knew who I was looking at. He was the man who I’d seen a few nights before. “Why are you here, um…?” I asked, my quiet voice coming out raspy from fear and disuse.
“It’s Zane,” he whispered, the sound as quiet as the wind around us, “and…no reason. I just wanted to perform a little…experiment.” Then he did something that completely and utterly shocked me: he leaned down a little and kissed me.
The moment his lips touched mine, I was frozen. The world, even time itself, stopped cold for a few moments, as did my heart. I closed my eyes tightly, a little uneasy of his eyes, which were boring into mine.
The gesture started as a simple kiss, an uncomplicated touching of one pair of lips to another, and yet it electrified me like I’d never been electrified before, my heart thumping so wildly against my ribcage that I was sure he could hear.
“Stop!” I moaned, but the protest was muffled by Zane’s lips as he pressed them more firmly onto mine, his hand reaching up to tangle in my hair. His other hand was wrapped firmly around my waist, forcing my hips against his.
I felt his smile against my mouth as he answered my outcry with a simple, “No,” his breath mingling with my own in a way that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. He pulled me closer and closer to him, until my entire body was touching his, warming it.
Then he held me tightly in the one-sided embrace, his lips moving gently against mine; quietly commanding, as if he was reminding me that he was in control here, was stronger than me. He didn’t open my lips, though, and for that I was glad; at least he knew enough not to go that far.
The kiss was extremely uncomfortable, even a little frightening—he was supposed to be evil, after all—and my mind and heart were racing…but it wasn’t all from fear. Why am I almost enjoying this? I asked myself, then answered my own question. He’s an excellent kisser, I noted, making up for my…inexperience…also, from the few limited glances that I’ve caught, he’s really cute…but still. I shouldn’t like this, I should hate it. He’s the bad guy; get a hold of yourself…
Suddenly I felt something pressing into my stomach, pulling me away from Zane, and soon air, cool to me although quite warm in reality, rushed into the place where Zane’s extremely warm body had been. Between Zane and I stood a very angry-looking Skylar; his hackles were raised, and his fangs were glinting whitely in the moonlight as he growled.
Don’t touch her, he commanded Zane, who looked amused and surprised at the same time. Then he turned to me, looking fatherly although wolfy, and asked, Are you alright? You didn’t start that, did you? Ugh, I hope you didn’t…
I shook my head firmly. “Absolutely not,” I said. “It was terrible, but I’m physically fine, if a little mentally scarred…but no worries.”
There was no response besides a strained smile and a relieved nod as Skylar turned back around to look at Zane…or that was the purpose, anyway; Zane was nowhere to be seen, which made Skylar growl again.
“It’ll be okay, Skylar, don’t worry,” I assured him. “I’m sure he just ran off…I won’t let him do that again, I swear.”
Skylar sighed. Why didn’t you call for help? he asked me, then realization dawned on his face as he added, You couldn’t, could you?
“Nope. He jumped me in my sleep, and when I tried to yell he just—just smothered it with his mouth, I guess.” I paused, then continued. “I kind of wonder why he did it. Maybe he was just trying to throw me off, confuse me; make me second-guess my judgment that he’s the ‘bad guy,’ but maybe…maybe he really likes me.”
Don’t get your hopes up, Skylar responded with a smirk; I could tell that he thought I was joking. Anyway, you’d better get some rest, m’dear…you obviously haven’t gotten much so far tonight.
I blinked. What had he just called me? “Um, okay, Skylar; I’ll get some sleep…but first of all, why’d you call me ‘m’dear’? I…”
There was a glint of white as my comrade flashed a wide smile, then silently turned around and went back to his sleeping bag, on which he curled up. Then, before I could say another word, his breathing slowed and became even; he was asleep.
“I’ve always wondered how people do that,” I muttered to myself, climbing into my own sleeping bag and lying down. “I mean, the average person is supposed to fall asleep in 7 minutes, but some can just close their eyes, and—bang—they’re out cold.”
Then I sighed deeply and shut my eyes, hoping that I could do as Skylar did and fall back asleep in seconds.
Sadly, my wish came true.
“Well, m’dear, I guess this is goodbye.”
I’m startled awake by a wolf that looks—and sounds—startlingly like Skylar…but it can’t be him, because Skylar would never take that pose in front of me. He’s standing in a way very similar to the way that he stood in front of Zane earlier, a threatening stance that sends chills down my spine.
“Felix is already dead, and soon you will be, too. Don’t worry, I’ll make it swift.”
Even worse than these words is the sound of the endearment that he said.
Then, suddenly, he pounces, pinning me to the ground, one paw on my stomach as he leans in, jaws open. I feel his breath on my face, and I know that he’s planning to kill me, for whatever reason he may have. This really is goodbye.
There’s a movement, and unexpectedly his weight is off my stomach and Zane is standing in front of me, a gun pointed at Skylar, who now looks afraid and small. I sit up and watch, as if in slow motion, Zane pull the trigger on the gun.
Without thinking I throw myself in the way of the bullet.
I feel an intense pain wrack my body, but I can pinpoint the most painful area: my chest. Blood is pouring from a gaping hole there, where the bullet intended for Skylar has pierced me. The end really is coming, just not at the hand of Skylar.
Instead, it’s at the hand of my almost-savior, Zane.
“Thank you for everything,” I whisper to…to who? Is it to Skylar or Zane, or maybe both or neither? Perhaps I’ll never know.
Perhaps I’ll never see either of them again.
To my intense surprise, my eyes opened to a glorious morning, the sun streaming down from the heavens as if to welcome me back from the dead. “She’s awake!” chimed a voice from my right; it sounded like Kaliyan. Where was she when I died? I wondered.
I pulled myself to a seated position, then blinked at what I saw. Skylar and Felix were peacefully eating their breakfast of crackers and jam, and Felix was jabbering aimlessly on about a dream he’d had the night before about finding a stray dog.
A dream, I thought, mentally slapping myself. Of course it was a dream. Skylar wouldn’t kill me. I shook my head at my idiocy, then pulled myself over to where the crackers were, slathering some mashed-up strawberries onto it and taking a bite. “So how did you all sleep?” I asked.
“Great!” Felix answered. “I had this amazing dream about finding this dog, and when I brought it home, my dad let me keep it. Usually he would’ve just yelled at me and thrown it out on the street, but this time, since it was a dream and all, he smiled and said it was real cute. He even made up Teresa’s room for it, and made Teresa move in with Peter forever, so…”
I let him jabber on, mentally going over the scene from last night. Why had Zane kissed me? Why was he following us? Why did he tell me his name? Why on Earth did he have to be so cute, and such a good kisser, when I know that he’s on the so-called ‘dark side’?
There were so many questions, and so little time to get them answered.
We walked for a while, then went to sleep. (I'm writing this later. So there.)
I was awoken by a sharp crackling of twigs, and my eyes flew open when a dark shadow fell over me, seconds later. All I could see were two bluish-hazel eyes and a few strands of sandy blonde hair, but I knew who I was looking at. He was the man who I’d seen a few nights before. “Why are you here, um…?” I asked, my quiet voice coming out raspy from fear and disuse.
“It’s Zane,” he whispered, the sound as quiet as the wind around us, “and…no reason. I just wanted to perform a little…experiment.” Then he did something that completely and utterly shocked me: he leaned down a little and kissed me.
The moment his lips touched mine, I was frozen. The world, even time itself, stopped cold for a few moments, as did my heart. I closed my eyes tightly, a little uneasy of his eyes, which were boring into mine.
The gesture started as a simple kiss, an uncomplicated touching of one pair of lips to another, and yet it electrified me like I’d never been electrified before, my heart thumping so wildly against my ribcage that I was sure he could hear.
“Stop!” I moaned, but the protest was muffled by Zane’s lips as he pressed them more firmly onto mine, his hand reaching up to tangle in my hair. His other hand was wrapped firmly around my waist, forcing my hips against his.
I felt his smile against my mouth as he answered my outcry with a simple, “No,” his breath mingling with my own in a way that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. He pulled me closer and closer to him, until my entire body was touching his, warming it.
Then he held me tightly in the one-sided embrace, his lips moving gently against mine; quietly commanding, as if he was reminding me that he was in control here, was stronger than me. He didn’t open my lips, though, and for that I was glad; at least he knew enough not to go that far.
The kiss was extremely uncomfortable, even a little frightening—he was supposed to be evil, after all—and my mind and heart were racing…but it wasn’t all from fear. Why am I almost enjoying this? I asked myself, then answered my own question. He’s an excellent kisser, I noted, making up for my…inexperience…also, from the few limited glances that I’ve caught, he’s really cute…but still. I shouldn’t like this, I should hate it. He’s the bad guy; get a hold of yourself…
Suddenly I felt something pressing into my stomach, pulling me away from Zane, and soon air, cool to me although quite warm in reality, rushed into the place where Zane’s extremely warm body had been. Between Zane and I stood a very angry-looking Skylar; his hackles were raised, and his fangs were glinting whitely in the moonlight as he growled.
Don’t touch her, he commanded Zane, who looked amused and surprised at the same time. Then he turned to me, looking fatherly although wolfy, and asked, Are you alright? You didn’t start that, did you? Ugh, I hope you didn’t…
I shook my head firmly. “Absolutely not,” I said. “It was terrible, but I’m physically fine, if a little mentally scarred…but no worries.”
There was no response besides a strained smile and a relieved nod as Skylar turned back around to look at Zane…or that was the purpose, anyway; Zane was nowhere to be seen, which made Skylar growl again.
“It’ll be okay, Skylar, don’t worry,” I assured him. “I’m sure he just ran off…I won’t let him do that again, I swear.”
Skylar sighed. Why didn’t you call for help? he asked me, then realization dawned on his face as he added, You couldn’t, could you?
“Nope. He jumped me in my sleep, and when I tried to yell he just—just smothered it with his mouth, I guess.” I paused, then continued. “I kind of wonder why he did it. Maybe he was just trying to throw me off, confuse me; make me second-guess my judgment that he’s the ‘bad guy,’ but maybe…maybe he really likes me.”
Don’t get your hopes up, Skylar responded with a smirk; I could tell that he thought I was joking. Anyway, you’d better get some rest, m’dear…you obviously haven’t gotten much so far tonight.
I blinked. What had he just called me? “Um, okay, Skylar; I’ll get some sleep…but first of all, why’d you call me ‘m’dear’? I…”
There was a glint of white as my comrade flashed a wide smile, then silently turned around and went back to his sleeping bag, on which he curled up. Then, before I could say another word, his breathing slowed and became even; he was asleep.
“I’ve always wondered how people do that,” I muttered to myself, climbing into my own sleeping bag and lying down. “I mean, the average person is supposed to fall asleep in 7 minutes, but some can just close their eyes, and—bang—they’re out cold.”
Then I sighed deeply and shut my eyes, hoping that I could do as Skylar did and fall back asleep in seconds.
Sadly, my wish came true.
“Well, m’dear, I guess this is goodbye.”
I’m startled awake by a wolf that looks—and sounds—startlingly like Skylar…but it can’t be him, because Skylar would never take that pose in front of me. He’s standing in a way very similar to the way that he stood in front of Zane earlier, a threatening stance that sends chills down my spine.
“Felix is already dead, and soon you will be, too. Don’t worry, I’ll make it swift.”
Even worse than these words is the sound of the endearment that he said.
Then, suddenly, he pounces, pinning me to the ground, one paw on my stomach as he leans in, jaws open. I feel his breath on my face, and I know that he’s planning to kill me, for whatever reason he may have. This really is goodbye.
There’s a movement, and unexpectedly his weight is off my stomach and Zane is standing in front of me, a gun pointed at Skylar, who now looks afraid and small. I sit up and watch, as if in slow motion, Zane pull the trigger on the gun.
Without thinking I throw myself in the way of the bullet.
I feel an intense pain wrack my body, but I can pinpoint the most painful area: my chest. Blood is pouring from a gaping hole there, where the bullet intended for Skylar has pierced me. The end really is coming, just not at the hand of Skylar.
Instead, it’s at the hand of my almost-savior, Zane.
“Thank you for everything,” I whisper to…to who? Is it to Skylar or Zane, or maybe both or neither? Perhaps I’ll never know.
Perhaps I’ll never see either of them again.
To my intense surprise, my eyes opened to a glorious morning, the sun streaming down from the heavens as if to welcome me back from the dead. “She’s awake!” chimed a voice from my right; it sounded like Kaliyan. Where was she when I died? I wondered.
I pulled myself to a seated position, then blinked at what I saw. Skylar and Felix were peacefully eating their breakfast of crackers and jam, and Felix was jabbering aimlessly on about a dream he’d had the night before about finding a stray dog.
A dream, I thought, mentally slapping myself. Of course it was a dream. Skylar wouldn’t kill me. I shook my head at my idiocy, then pulled myself over to where the crackers were, slathering some mashed-up strawberries onto it and taking a bite. “So how did you all sleep?” I asked.
“Great!” Felix answered. “I had this amazing dream about finding this dog, and when I brought it home, my dad let me keep it. Usually he would’ve just yelled at me and thrown it out on the street, but this time, since it was a dream and all, he smiled and said it was real cute. He even made up Teresa’s room for it, and made Teresa move in with Peter forever, so…”
I let him jabber on, mentally going over the scene from last night. Why had Zane kissed me? Why was he following us? Why did he tell me his name? Why on Earth did he have to be so cute, and such a good kisser, when I know that he’s on the so-called ‘dark side’?
There were so many questions, and so little time to get them answered.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Chapter Ten: Veneno Powder
Rubbing my eyes, I sat up and looked around the room. After I remembered where I was, not to mention why I was there, I realized that there was a small pile of neatly-folded clothes sitting at the edge of my bed, on top of which was a hand-written note.
“Emily—there is more clothing in the bureau directly ahead of your bed if you want them, but here are some jean shorts and a t-shirt for today,” the note read. “Please take advantage of them, as I’m sure that your own clothes are quite dirty. I am in the kitchen, which is right across from the study, preparing breakfast. Please come down when you are dressed; you’re all half-starved I’m sure.” It was signed, as I knew it would be, “Doctor Kingston.”
I sighed and pulled on the clothes, not the slightest bit self-conscious that Kaliyan was only 3 feet away; we’d grown up best friends, so she wouldn’t mind. Then I headed down the hallway, pretty sure that I’d forgotten where the study was.
My nose knew where the kitchen was, though—where the smell of bacon, eggs, sausage, and waffles was coming from—and soon I was walking through a door and into the kitchen, where Dr. Kingston and Felix were seated at a large table; Skylar was curled up in the corner, an empty plate in front of him.
Then I sat down, and smiled when Felix handed me a heaping plate of waffles and bacon—the whole thing appeared to steam, the scent wafting over and making my mouth water in anticipation.
Between the first bite and the last one, I don’t remember a thing besides that it tasted more amazing than anything I’d ever eaten before, probably helped by the fact that I hadn’t eaten anything but bananas and jerky for the past week or so.
Seconds after I’d licked my plate clean, Kaliyan stumbled into the room, clad in a pair of jean shorts and fitted celadon t-shirt that closely matched my own. “Hey,” she mumbled in greeting, her sleepy face quickly brightening at the sight—and smell—of a delicious breakfast.
I quickly loaded up a plate for her, amassed with eggs, bacon, and waffles, which she took and instantly devoured without so much as breathing. “God, that was good,” she breathed, sounding satisfied, just as Dr. Kingston cleared his throat.
“May I have your attention, please,” he called. All heads swiveled to face him as he continued, “As you all should know, I am an expert on lycanthropes and werewolves, as well as multiple other so-called ‘mythological’ species and beings. This is why I live in this secluded Amazonian spot: to preserve my materials. You wouldn’t believe how many lycans there are in America.”
Well, I would, Skylar piped up. Over half of them are my family.
Dr. Kingston smiled. “Yes, Skylar, I would expect you to. It’s peculiar, you see, the genes of a lycan; over half of them do seem to be closely related, which is extremely rare in a species…”
“What’d Skylar say?” Kaliyan asked me in a whisper, having leaned over towards me from her seat a few feet away. “I seriously can’t hear him. Isn’t that weird? I mean, I’m the telepathic one, and he’s using telepathy to communicate, so how come I can’t hear him and everyone else can?”
As I opened my mouth to answer, I noticed that Dr. Kingston had stopped talking and was looking at Kaliyan with an expression that was perplexed, dismayed, and convinced, all in one—mostly dismayed, however, which made my heart sink a little. “Doctor?” I prompted.
The doctor paused for a moment, then asked, “Well, judging from your little speech there, miss—” he pointed at Kaliyan, “—I believe that one or all of you has been infected by veneno powder, which is a supposedly mythical powder that makes an, ah, ‘gifted’ person unable to use their abilities. It works slowly, though, so your abilities would fade with time.”
I blinked. “That’s exactly what’s been happening. Kaliyan can’t hear Skylar when he sends thoughts to her—she’s telepathic—and I haven’t been able to see into the future since we got here. And, of course, Skylar’s gotten stuck in wolf form…”
“Is it curable?” Kaliyan asked; she sounded—and looked—a little panicked.
Dr. Kingston sighed. “Yes,” he said, “but…”
After a few seconds’ worth of waiting, Felix cocked his head to the side, and asked, “But what, Doctor? Nothing could be bad news if there’s a cure.” We all nodded our agreement, but Dr. Kingston shook his head wearily and sipped his coffee.
“The antidote for veneno powder is extremely rare, and is in fact part of the fruit that the powder itself comes from,” the doctor said slowly. “The only place that the fruit, fittingly called veneno, grows is already owned…and this man means it when he says that trespassers will be shot.”
All four of us gulped at the same time. “Well, could we buy some from him, or something?” Kaliyan suggested sensibly.
The doctor shook his head. “No, as I said, the veneno are extremely rare, and the man who owns the land is very protective of his plants…I suppose you could say that he treats them as if they were his own children. However, there is one way that—”
“Wait a second, if there’s only one place in the world that grows these things,” I interrupted, “then we already know who contaminated us, right?”
Dr. Kingston sighed. “No, the other person may have—”
“Where is this place?” Kaliyan asked. “We could find the guy who owns it and interrogate him, maybe get him to hand over the antidote to the powder—”
Felix nodded eagerly and started in on the interrupting streak. “The least we could do is get his motive out of him; maybe he—”
“Silence!” roared Dr. Kingston. We all quieted at once. “Look, as I’ve been trying to tell you, there is one way that you could possibly gain access to the veneno plants. This man is quite wealthy, therefore has workers, and perhaps you could disguise yourselves.”
Skylar raised his head. What about me? Do I not get to come with?
“Well, I suppose that one of the others could be blind. Emily,” he suggested, looking me, “would you like to have a guide dog for a little while?”
Kaliyan frowned, and asked, before I could answer, “Won’t he know who his workers are? He wouldn’t recognize us.”
“Good observation,” Dr. Kingston replied. “Well, I suppose that…it’s definitely not foolproof, but maybe you could go onto his property on the premise of signing up for a job there…” His eyes suddenly lit up. “And Skylar could, as your guide dog, act out for some reason and ‘run off.’ You follow him, acting sight-impaired—perhaps you’re not blind, but just can’t see very well…”
I nodded, catching on. “And, while supposedly catching up to my ‘guide dog,’ I get some veneno plants and stick them in his guide-dog-bag thing,” I added. “Perfect!”
“Wow, yeah! I can’t believe I didn’t think of that,” Kaliyan piped up.
Felix just nodded silently, looking thoughtful, and Skylar was grinning up at us. I’d love to play the part of a disobedient dog, he said slowly, after his grin had faded a little, but aren’t guide dogs supposed to, first off, be really well-trained, and secondly, be dogs instead of wolves?
“That’s true,” Dr. Kingston said, “but you would just be a rather large husky, and even well-trained dogs act out sometimes.”
And so our plan was ready.
“Emily—there is more clothing in the bureau directly ahead of your bed if you want them, but here are some jean shorts and a t-shirt for today,” the note read. “Please take advantage of them, as I’m sure that your own clothes are quite dirty. I am in the kitchen, which is right across from the study, preparing breakfast. Please come down when you are dressed; you’re all half-starved I’m sure.” It was signed, as I knew it would be, “Doctor Kingston.”
I sighed and pulled on the clothes, not the slightest bit self-conscious that Kaliyan was only 3 feet away; we’d grown up best friends, so she wouldn’t mind. Then I headed down the hallway, pretty sure that I’d forgotten where the study was.
My nose knew where the kitchen was, though—where the smell of bacon, eggs, sausage, and waffles was coming from—and soon I was walking through a door and into the kitchen, where Dr. Kingston and Felix were seated at a large table; Skylar was curled up in the corner, an empty plate in front of him.
Then I sat down, and smiled when Felix handed me a heaping plate of waffles and bacon—the whole thing appeared to steam, the scent wafting over and making my mouth water in anticipation.
Between the first bite and the last one, I don’t remember a thing besides that it tasted more amazing than anything I’d ever eaten before, probably helped by the fact that I hadn’t eaten anything but bananas and jerky for the past week or so.
Seconds after I’d licked my plate clean, Kaliyan stumbled into the room, clad in a pair of jean shorts and fitted celadon t-shirt that closely matched my own. “Hey,” she mumbled in greeting, her sleepy face quickly brightening at the sight—and smell—of a delicious breakfast.
I quickly loaded up a plate for her, amassed with eggs, bacon, and waffles, which she took and instantly devoured without so much as breathing. “God, that was good,” she breathed, sounding satisfied, just as Dr. Kingston cleared his throat.
“May I have your attention, please,” he called. All heads swiveled to face him as he continued, “As you all should know, I am an expert on lycanthropes and werewolves, as well as multiple other so-called ‘mythological’ species and beings. This is why I live in this secluded Amazonian spot: to preserve my materials. You wouldn’t believe how many lycans there are in America.”
Well, I would, Skylar piped up. Over half of them are my family.
Dr. Kingston smiled. “Yes, Skylar, I would expect you to. It’s peculiar, you see, the genes of a lycan; over half of them do seem to be closely related, which is extremely rare in a species…”
“What’d Skylar say?” Kaliyan asked me in a whisper, having leaned over towards me from her seat a few feet away. “I seriously can’t hear him. Isn’t that weird? I mean, I’m the telepathic one, and he’s using telepathy to communicate, so how come I can’t hear him and everyone else can?”
As I opened my mouth to answer, I noticed that Dr. Kingston had stopped talking and was looking at Kaliyan with an expression that was perplexed, dismayed, and convinced, all in one—mostly dismayed, however, which made my heart sink a little. “Doctor?” I prompted.
The doctor paused for a moment, then asked, “Well, judging from your little speech there, miss—” he pointed at Kaliyan, “—I believe that one or all of you has been infected by veneno powder, which is a supposedly mythical powder that makes an, ah, ‘gifted’ person unable to use their abilities. It works slowly, though, so your abilities would fade with time.”
I blinked. “That’s exactly what’s been happening. Kaliyan can’t hear Skylar when he sends thoughts to her—she’s telepathic—and I haven’t been able to see into the future since we got here. And, of course, Skylar’s gotten stuck in wolf form…”
“Is it curable?” Kaliyan asked; she sounded—and looked—a little panicked.
Dr. Kingston sighed. “Yes,” he said, “but…”
After a few seconds’ worth of waiting, Felix cocked his head to the side, and asked, “But what, Doctor? Nothing could be bad news if there’s a cure.” We all nodded our agreement, but Dr. Kingston shook his head wearily and sipped his coffee.
“The antidote for veneno powder is extremely rare, and is in fact part of the fruit that the powder itself comes from,” the doctor said slowly. “The only place that the fruit, fittingly called veneno, grows is already owned…and this man means it when he says that trespassers will be shot.”
All four of us gulped at the same time. “Well, could we buy some from him, or something?” Kaliyan suggested sensibly.
The doctor shook his head. “No, as I said, the veneno are extremely rare, and the man who owns the land is very protective of his plants…I suppose you could say that he treats them as if they were his own children. However, there is one way that—”
“Wait a second, if there’s only one place in the world that grows these things,” I interrupted, “then we already know who contaminated us, right?”
Dr. Kingston sighed. “No, the other person may have—”
“Where is this place?” Kaliyan asked. “We could find the guy who owns it and interrogate him, maybe get him to hand over the antidote to the powder—”
Felix nodded eagerly and started in on the interrupting streak. “The least we could do is get his motive out of him; maybe he—”
“Silence!” roared Dr. Kingston. We all quieted at once. “Look, as I’ve been trying to tell you, there is one way that you could possibly gain access to the veneno plants. This man is quite wealthy, therefore has workers, and perhaps you could disguise yourselves.”
Skylar raised his head. What about me? Do I not get to come with?
“Well, I suppose that one of the others could be blind. Emily,” he suggested, looking me, “would you like to have a guide dog for a little while?”
Kaliyan frowned, and asked, before I could answer, “Won’t he know who his workers are? He wouldn’t recognize us.”
“Good observation,” Dr. Kingston replied. “Well, I suppose that…it’s definitely not foolproof, but maybe you could go onto his property on the premise of signing up for a job there…” His eyes suddenly lit up. “And Skylar could, as your guide dog, act out for some reason and ‘run off.’ You follow him, acting sight-impaired—perhaps you’re not blind, but just can’t see very well…”
I nodded, catching on. “And, while supposedly catching up to my ‘guide dog,’ I get some veneno plants and stick them in his guide-dog-bag thing,” I added. “Perfect!”
“Wow, yeah! I can’t believe I didn’t think of that,” Kaliyan piped up.
Felix just nodded silently, looking thoughtful, and Skylar was grinning up at us. I’d love to play the part of a disobedient dog, he said slowly, after his grin had faded a little, but aren’t guide dogs supposed to, first off, be really well-trained, and secondly, be dogs instead of wolves?
“That’s true,” Dr. Kingston said, “but you would just be a rather large husky, and even well-trained dogs act out sometimes.”
And so our plan was ready.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Chapter Nine: The Magic Treehouse
The sunlight came down gently, filtering through the leaves and turning a pleasant shade of green. I rubbed my aching head and sat up, my mind’s eye foggy for a moment.
All at once, my memories sharpened and I remembered last night. “I saw him!” I shouted out, not knowing if anyone else was awake, just wanting to tell the world. “I saw that stalker guy up close. Not very well, since it was dark, but I saw him.”
Then I opened by eyes and saw Kaliyan and Felix staring at me. Skylar was, politely, refraining from staring, but I caught him sneaking dubious glances at me from time to time.
“What?!” Kaliyan finally exclaimed. “You’re out like a light until basically right now, while we clean up all of the stuff that you said you’d clean up last night, and now you’re talking about the mysterious stalker guy like you actually saw him? Are you crazy?”
Skylar gave me an apologetic glance. What happened? he asked, sounding genuinely curious. What did he do? Did he hurt you?
I grimaced. “He touched each of us on the foreheads,” I remembered, “except Felix. I stayed up because I had a feeling that something was going to happen, and he knew somehow that I was awake, by touching my wrist, so he pressure-pointed me and I passed out.”
Skylar nodded like he understood, but Kaliyan cut in with a biting, “I'm so sure. Now get up so that maybe we can find that stupid treehouse today. We’ve got to be close.” She wasn’t usually this snippy, and I wondered briefly what was wrong with her before getting to my feet.
“I actually did pack the stuff last night,” I said. “That guy probably took it all out again or something. Anyway, you want proof? Here’s the bruise from when he knocked me out.” I lifted up my hair, which grew to the bottom of my shoulder blades, to reveal a black and blue bruise, ringed with a sickly green, on my neck—right on the pressure point.
Kaliyan frowned and leaned over, touching the bruise so lightly that I wasn’t sure she’d touched it at all. “Looks pretty bad,” she said, “so you didn’t do it. No one in their right mind would hurt themselves that badly, especially on a pressure point.” She shrugged. “Anyway, let’s go.”
So we went, and must have walked for hours before we ended up at the same tree we’d stayed the night at—Felix had marked it with an “X” at its foot.
“Great,” the usually-silent Felix whined, “so we walked in a stupid circle.”
I sighed and sat down, my whole body aching from all the trekking up and down hills, leaning back against the tree. “I think I speak for the whole group when I say that today has majorly, majorly sucked,” I said wearily. “And what if this tree is the tree? Someone climb up and check, ‘cause I’m bushed.”
Felix nodded and quickly scaled the tree, reaching the top in a matter of about a minute, although the tree was extremely tall. “Yeah, this is it!” I heard him shout from the top. “Or, at least, there’s a house thing up here. I dunno if anyone’s home.”
So Kaliyan and I, being smarter than the average bear, went around to the back of the tree and found a very thin, yet usable, spiral staircase that we hadn’t noticed before. Skylar made his cautious way ahead of us, while we walked behind, and at long last we reached the wooden platform high above, where Felix was waiting impatiently, tapping his foot.
“Took you long enough,” he said, grinned impishly, then ran off into the grand-looking house to our right, clicking his heels midway to show off.
I rolled my eyes, then followed him into the house, knocking loudly before crossing the threshold into what looked like your average home—you never would have guessed that it was a few hundred feet off the forest floor.
“Excuse me?” I called; the sound echoed back to me. “Um, excuse me, Doctor Kingston? Are you home? We’ve got a…um…patient here!” Suddenly there was a groan from the room to my left, and I rushed in to find…nothing.
The room was completely empty, save for a few chairs, which were tipped sideways, and a painting on the wall. The painting depicted a lycan transforming from human to wolf and back again, and it was done in so much detail that I was sure that the artist had witnessed a transformation.
“What’s up?” I heard from the hallway as Kaliyan walked into the room, taking in its disheveled appearance with one quick sweep. “Looks like a struggle or something.”
“Yeah, it does,” I answered, “but we can’t be sure of anything yet. Let’s check out more of the treehouse, and then make a decision…we shouldn’t jump to any conclusions.”
Kaliyan nodded firmly, and we both made our way out of the small room and into the hallway, checking each and every room. The first room was by far the most disheveled, but they were all a bit upturned—and all extremely empty; there could be no doubt about that.
“Well,” Kaliyan started uncertainly after we’d checked our sixth room or so, “he’s definitely not here, but where the heck could he be?”
I shrugged. “I’ve got absolutely no idea,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant although my palms were beginning to moisten considerably. I was admittedly a little nervous about the whereabouts of Doctor Kingston, and was wondering the exact same thing.
There was a padding sound, then Skylar came into the room, his pink tongue lolling out of his mouth as he said, Well, what’s the worst thing that it could be?
“He could’ve been kidnapped or something,” Kaliyan suggested.
“Maybe he was murdered,” I guessed.
“Um, or maybe he was just out to lunch,” Felix’s voice called from the doorway. We all turned to look at him, and I immediately noticed the sign he held in his hands. It was written in neat cursive, and I read it as quickly as I could.
“Out to lunch—be back around 1pm. Thanks, Dr. Kingston. P.S., please wait in the study,” Felix quoted, and I groaned; of course it would be something as simple as that, when we were all worried about his being abducted. “Well, that’s solved. What time is it?”
“I don’t know,” Kaliyan answered.
Smirking a little, I added, “It’s not like anyone thought to bring a watch.”
We spent a long, long while waiting in what we supposed was the study; the first room we’d walked into. Skylar and I were both studying the transformation pictures with great raptness, while Kaliyan was staring off into space and Felix was fidgeting around, looking impatient.
Finally, the sound of boots on a ladder reached our ears, and without delay all eyes were riveted on the small trapdoor that it led to. A few moments later, a brunette head popped through, and was followed by a set of broad shoulders, then a body, then a pair of long, thin legs.
The man, who I assumed was Dr. Kingston, turned around and headed into the study, his eyes cutting straight to Skylar. They stared at each other for a while before Dr. Kingston sighed and arched an eyebrow, his hazel blue eyes sparkling in the artificial light. “So,” he said, his tone business-like but curious, “you are the lycan, am I right?”
Skylar nodded his canine head, and I replied for him, trying to sound as professional as Kingston. “Yes, he’s the lycan, and he has a bit of a problem. You see, he’s stuck in that form; he hasn’t been human for weeks now, and we’re afraid that it may be permanent.”
I cleared my throat, then continued. “We went to the library and researched some things, finally finding your name and location. So we came to the forest, hoping to meet you and find some answers about what’s going on, and…well, here we are.”
Doctor Kingston smiled genially. “And I’m very glad you’re here, Miss…?” He tapered off, leaving the sentence open for me to supply my name.
“Emily,” I interjected, “and these are Kaliyan, Felix, and Skylar.”
A curt nod was my only response. This man’s emotions change pretty quickly, I thought to myself. That’s pretty odd.
“Anyhow,” Dr. Kingston said a while later, “I am Doctor Kingston, and…well, I suppose that I’ll be assisting Skylar back to his human form.” He sighed wearily, looking extremely careworn all of a sudden, and stood up. “You will be staying in the rooms in the back; please follow me.”
And follow him we did, making our way to the back of the treehouse, where Dr. Kingston directed Kaliyan and I to one room, and Felix to another, telling Skylar that he’d be staying in a third room, made especially for ‘frozen’ lycans, which was on the other side of our room.
We all thanked the doctor and headed into our rooms. Kaliyan nearly liquefied when she saw the two twin-sized beds, and sank into one immediately. I took my time, though, unpacking my meager belongings and taking in the room, which was simple but satisfying.
The walls were painted a very pale powder blue, and the furniture—a bureau, a bookcase, and two small side tables, not to mention the beds—was wooden and white, the bedding a pleasant Columbia blue, with a few splashes of cobalt here and there.
When I’d finally finished unloading my backpack, I settled into my bed, and took great pleasure in its gentle support, not nearly as hard as the sleeping bag I’d been sleeping in for the past few days. I fell asleep without noticing at all.
All at once, my memories sharpened and I remembered last night. “I saw him!” I shouted out, not knowing if anyone else was awake, just wanting to tell the world. “I saw that stalker guy up close. Not very well, since it was dark, but I saw him.”
Then I opened by eyes and saw Kaliyan and Felix staring at me. Skylar was, politely, refraining from staring, but I caught him sneaking dubious glances at me from time to time.
“What?!” Kaliyan finally exclaimed. “You’re out like a light until basically right now, while we clean up all of the stuff that you said you’d clean up last night, and now you’re talking about the mysterious stalker guy like you actually saw him? Are you crazy?”
Skylar gave me an apologetic glance. What happened? he asked, sounding genuinely curious. What did he do? Did he hurt you?
I grimaced. “He touched each of us on the foreheads,” I remembered, “except Felix. I stayed up because I had a feeling that something was going to happen, and he knew somehow that I was awake, by touching my wrist, so he pressure-pointed me and I passed out.”
Skylar nodded like he understood, but Kaliyan cut in with a biting, “I'm so sure. Now get up so that maybe we can find that stupid treehouse today. We’ve got to be close.” She wasn’t usually this snippy, and I wondered briefly what was wrong with her before getting to my feet.
“I actually did pack the stuff last night,” I said. “That guy probably took it all out again or something. Anyway, you want proof? Here’s the bruise from when he knocked me out.” I lifted up my hair, which grew to the bottom of my shoulder blades, to reveal a black and blue bruise, ringed with a sickly green, on my neck—right on the pressure point.
Kaliyan frowned and leaned over, touching the bruise so lightly that I wasn’t sure she’d touched it at all. “Looks pretty bad,” she said, “so you didn’t do it. No one in their right mind would hurt themselves that badly, especially on a pressure point.” She shrugged. “Anyway, let’s go.”
So we went, and must have walked for hours before we ended up at the same tree we’d stayed the night at—Felix had marked it with an “X” at its foot.
“Great,” the usually-silent Felix whined, “so we walked in a stupid circle.”
I sighed and sat down, my whole body aching from all the trekking up and down hills, leaning back against the tree. “I think I speak for the whole group when I say that today has majorly, majorly sucked,” I said wearily. “And what if this tree is the tree? Someone climb up and check, ‘cause I’m bushed.”
Felix nodded and quickly scaled the tree, reaching the top in a matter of about a minute, although the tree was extremely tall. “Yeah, this is it!” I heard him shout from the top. “Or, at least, there’s a house thing up here. I dunno if anyone’s home.”
So Kaliyan and I, being smarter than the average bear, went around to the back of the tree and found a very thin, yet usable, spiral staircase that we hadn’t noticed before. Skylar made his cautious way ahead of us, while we walked behind, and at long last we reached the wooden platform high above, where Felix was waiting impatiently, tapping his foot.
“Took you long enough,” he said, grinned impishly, then ran off into the grand-looking house to our right, clicking his heels midway to show off.
I rolled my eyes, then followed him into the house, knocking loudly before crossing the threshold into what looked like your average home—you never would have guessed that it was a few hundred feet off the forest floor.
“Excuse me?” I called; the sound echoed back to me. “Um, excuse me, Doctor Kingston? Are you home? We’ve got a…um…patient here!” Suddenly there was a groan from the room to my left, and I rushed in to find…nothing.
The room was completely empty, save for a few chairs, which were tipped sideways, and a painting on the wall. The painting depicted a lycan transforming from human to wolf and back again, and it was done in so much detail that I was sure that the artist had witnessed a transformation.
“What’s up?” I heard from the hallway as Kaliyan walked into the room, taking in its disheveled appearance with one quick sweep. “Looks like a struggle or something.”
“Yeah, it does,” I answered, “but we can’t be sure of anything yet. Let’s check out more of the treehouse, and then make a decision…we shouldn’t jump to any conclusions.”
Kaliyan nodded firmly, and we both made our way out of the small room and into the hallway, checking each and every room. The first room was by far the most disheveled, but they were all a bit upturned—and all extremely empty; there could be no doubt about that.
“Well,” Kaliyan started uncertainly after we’d checked our sixth room or so, “he’s definitely not here, but where the heck could he be?”
I shrugged. “I’ve got absolutely no idea,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant although my palms were beginning to moisten considerably. I was admittedly a little nervous about the whereabouts of Doctor Kingston, and was wondering the exact same thing.
There was a padding sound, then Skylar came into the room, his pink tongue lolling out of his mouth as he said, Well, what’s the worst thing that it could be?
“He could’ve been kidnapped or something,” Kaliyan suggested.
“Maybe he was murdered,” I guessed.
“Um, or maybe he was just out to lunch,” Felix’s voice called from the doorway. We all turned to look at him, and I immediately noticed the sign he held in his hands. It was written in neat cursive, and I read it as quickly as I could.
“Out to lunch—be back around 1pm. Thanks, Dr. Kingston. P.S., please wait in the study,” Felix quoted, and I groaned; of course it would be something as simple as that, when we were all worried about his being abducted. “Well, that’s solved. What time is it?”
“I don’t know,” Kaliyan answered.
Smirking a little, I added, “It’s not like anyone thought to bring a watch.”
We spent a long, long while waiting in what we supposed was the study; the first room we’d walked into. Skylar and I were both studying the transformation pictures with great raptness, while Kaliyan was staring off into space and Felix was fidgeting around, looking impatient.
Finally, the sound of boots on a ladder reached our ears, and without delay all eyes were riveted on the small trapdoor that it led to. A few moments later, a brunette head popped through, and was followed by a set of broad shoulders, then a body, then a pair of long, thin legs.
The man, who I assumed was Dr. Kingston, turned around and headed into the study, his eyes cutting straight to Skylar. They stared at each other for a while before Dr. Kingston sighed and arched an eyebrow, his hazel blue eyes sparkling in the artificial light. “So,” he said, his tone business-like but curious, “you are the lycan, am I right?”
Skylar nodded his canine head, and I replied for him, trying to sound as professional as Kingston. “Yes, he’s the lycan, and he has a bit of a problem. You see, he’s stuck in that form; he hasn’t been human for weeks now, and we’re afraid that it may be permanent.”
I cleared my throat, then continued. “We went to the library and researched some things, finally finding your name and location. So we came to the forest, hoping to meet you and find some answers about what’s going on, and…well, here we are.”
Doctor Kingston smiled genially. “And I’m very glad you’re here, Miss…?” He tapered off, leaving the sentence open for me to supply my name.
“Emily,” I interjected, “and these are Kaliyan, Felix, and Skylar.”
A curt nod was my only response. This man’s emotions change pretty quickly, I thought to myself. That’s pretty odd.
“Anyhow,” Dr. Kingston said a while later, “I am Doctor Kingston, and…well, I suppose that I’ll be assisting Skylar back to his human form.” He sighed wearily, looking extremely careworn all of a sudden, and stood up. “You will be staying in the rooms in the back; please follow me.”
And follow him we did, making our way to the back of the treehouse, where Dr. Kingston directed Kaliyan and I to one room, and Felix to another, telling Skylar that he’d be staying in a third room, made especially for ‘frozen’ lycans, which was on the other side of our room.
We all thanked the doctor and headed into our rooms. Kaliyan nearly liquefied when she saw the two twin-sized beds, and sank into one immediately. I took my time, though, unpacking my meager belongings and taking in the room, which was simple but satisfying.
The walls were painted a very pale powder blue, and the furniture—a bureau, a bookcase, and two small side tables, not to mention the beds—was wooden and white, the bedding a pleasant Columbia blue, with a few splashes of cobalt here and there.
When I’d finally finished unloading my backpack, I settled into my bed, and took great pleasure in its gentle support, not nearly as hard as the sleeping bag I’d been sleeping in for the past few days. I fell asleep without noticing at all.
Chapter Eight: Blinded
The ride to the jungle entrance was bumpy and uncomfortable, but only about 2 and a half miles long, so I endured it. When we finally reached the entrance, which was a simple path with a canopy of trees covering it, we hopped off of the cart and onto the ground, shouldering our packs.
Miguel started filling us in. “Just follow the dust path until you reach a very large oak tree,” he told us. “Then simply climb up the oak tree and you will arrive at the home of Doctor Anthony Kingston. Just stay on the path, and you will be fine. Good luck, my friends.”
He clapped us each on the back, and the wagon started rumbling back to the city again, leaving our foursome standing in the middle of nowhere, alone.
“Crap,” Kaliyan said eloquently.
Crap is very right, Skylar agreed. But we should probably start going…the sooner we start, the sooner we get there, right?
Kaliyan, Felix, and I shrugged. “I guess so,” Felix said dubiously. “Well, let’s go.” And without further ado, he started trekking into the rainforest.
Kaliyan quickly scrambled after him, followed closely by Skylar and me, and soon I lost sight of the sunny field that we’d been standing in. “Oh, boy,” I said, dread coating my voice, as I took in the jungle. At least the others are with me, I thought, and it reassured me.
We walked for a long while, all of us but Skylar completely tired out by the time the sun started to set. Kaliyan and I set up a lean-to against a particularly flat-sided tree, and soon we were all huddled around a very small campfire.
Popping a piece of jerky into his mouth, Felix finally said, “I’m exhausted…let’s go to sleep now.”
We all agreed. I walked over to my pack and took out my blanket, spreading it on the ground to lay on. Then I curled up on my side and drifted into unconsciousness.
My sleep was uneventful, with no dreams, and I was soon woken by a gentle nudging in my back. I opened my eyes, and was briefly disoriented by the muggy air. “Where am I?” I mumbled, struggling to sit up. Then my memories came rushing back to me. “Oh.”
Up and at ‘em, Skylar chimed, then went on to wake Kaliyan.
A muss-haired Felix was already chowing down on a banana, fresh from a tree across the path from ours, and I grabbed myself one. It was quickly gone, as was another one; I was quite hungry that morning from all the walking I'd done the day before. Then we all stood up, packed our bags, and headed out again.
Felix was in the front, being the one who supposedly knew these woods, followed by Skylar, then Kaliyan and yours truly. We walked for hours, and finally stopped when Felix literally collapsed from exhaustion. Then we propped him up against a tree and ate some more jerky, waiting for about an hour until Felix said that he could walk again.
So we set off once more, but we only got a few feet ahead before the road turned sharply to the left and disappeared into the underbrush. We paused before going into the thick forest, where the path was nearly unintelligible from the grasses around it.
“Oh, god,” Kaliyan was saying, over and over again. “Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god.”
I rolled my eyes. “Gimme a break, Kaliyan, we’ll be fine.”
Kaliyan’s POV
“That’s easy for you to say,” I grumbled to Emily, who was gingerly picking her way behind me, next to Skylar. “You’re right next to the giant wolf.”
I heard a huffing noise come from Skylar, and figured he was laughing. I sighed and waited for a little while, waiting for the mandatory exchange between my best friend and Skylar to come to an end. I really hated it when they had their telepathic talks, and even though I could read human minds, I found that I couldn’t figure out what Skylar was thinking.
Yeah, I know, Skye, but you could at least move up a few steps, to comfort her, Emily was reassuring Skylar. There was a pause while he responded, then Emily grinned. Gimme a break, she laughed in her head and Skylar’s—as well as, unknowingly, mine, I’ll be fine. It’s not like I could lose you people when you’re only a few feet in front of me.
There was a loud burst of air, then Skylar quickened to a lope and came up next to me, slowing down a little to match my pace. “Hey, puppy,” I said teasingly. He was silent. “C’mon, I know you can talk in people’s heads, but you’re not talking to me. What’s with that?”
Skylar’s elongated head turned to face me, his expression puzzled. I rolled my eyes. “I can read people’s minds, but not animals’ minds,” I told him, assuming that that’s what he meant, “so you’ll have to just exert yourself a little and—”
A loud bark reverberated off of the trees surrounding us as Skylar shook his head resolutely. Emily gave a perplexed look from where she was walking a few feet behind. “He says that he’s been talking to you, and being weirded out that you haven’t been speaking back.”
“What?! Really?” I asked. “That’s so weird…Like, super weird.”
Emily nodded, and soon we were walking again. I was just kind of thinking, but making sure I stayed on the path, and Skylar had gone back to where Emily was. All was pretty peaceful, and finally we emerged from the forest path and onto a cleared-out one, like before.
The only problem was that this one was a forked path, and none of us could remember which way we were supposed to be heading. “Well,” I said uncertainly, “let’s go right.” We started walking right, and I turned to Emily. “So?” I asked her.
“I…It’s weird, but I can’t see anything at all. Usually I could probably at least get a vague idea that we were going the wrong way, since I’m psychic and all, but I’ve got absolutely nothing.” She blinked, looking profoundly taken aback. “But let’s try this way for a while, and we’ll see. I’m sure it’s just that I’m tired, or something.”
Biting my lip, I nodded. “Okay, Em,” I said, and we kept walking until sunset, when we all sat down around a gigantic tree, bigger than any I’d ever seen, to eat a dinner of mangoes, jerky, and some water from the river, which we’d carefully filtered until we were sure that there were no bug bits left in it, at least. “Well, I’m exhausted, so—”
“Be quiet for a second, Kaliyan,” Emily said seriously, looking straight into the forest, her brow slightly creased like it was when she was deep in concentration. “There’s something—someone—out there.” She narrowed her eyes and slowly stood, then ran into the forest.
I saw a shadow darting back and forth, getting further and further away, and finally it was gone. Emily came back to our little circle and sighed. “What’d you see?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she mumbled dejectedly, biting into a piece of mango. “Just, never mind. Go to bed; I’m just going to finish eating and pack up for the morning.”
Her face was slowly fading from my view as the sun set, so I climbed onto my blanket, curled up, and dreamlessly fell into a deep sleep.
Emily’s POV
I leaned against a tree and closed my eyes, determined not to succumb to rest like my body was begging and pleading for me to. Instead, I remained as wide awake as possible, listening to the many sounds of the forest. My intuition as a clairvoyant was telling me that there was something out of place, and I wasn’t going to ignore it any longer.
Snap. My breath caught in my throat, but I carefully regulated it again and listened as the footfalls got slowly closer, finally stopping. I slid my eyes open a little bit, so that they were about halfway open—the way I usually slept.
This time, though the bottoms weren’t blacked out with sleep, and I watched intently as a form in front of me leaned over and touched Kaliyan’s forehead with two fingers, leaving a kind of glittering residue where he'd pressed his skin to hers. He then moved onto Skylar, placing his forefinger and middle finger on his furry muzzle, then walked up to me.
“I see that you’re sleeping open-eyed as usual, my dear,” he whispered, leaning down. His face was shrouded in shadow as he placed his hand on my wrist and narrowed his eyes until they were slits. “But tonight you’re really not asleep, are you?”
He put his two fingers on my forehead, and a tingling sensation rushed from the two points until it enveloped my entire body. Then the man slowly brought his hand behind my neck and pressed the relaxing pressure point—hard—smiling an infuriatingly gentle smile.
The world went black.
Miguel started filling us in. “Just follow the dust path until you reach a very large oak tree,” he told us. “Then simply climb up the oak tree and you will arrive at the home of Doctor Anthony Kingston. Just stay on the path, and you will be fine. Good luck, my friends.”
He clapped us each on the back, and the wagon started rumbling back to the city again, leaving our foursome standing in the middle of nowhere, alone.
“Crap,” Kaliyan said eloquently.
Crap is very right, Skylar agreed. But we should probably start going…the sooner we start, the sooner we get there, right?
Kaliyan, Felix, and I shrugged. “I guess so,” Felix said dubiously. “Well, let’s go.” And without further ado, he started trekking into the rainforest.
Kaliyan quickly scrambled after him, followed closely by Skylar and me, and soon I lost sight of the sunny field that we’d been standing in. “Oh, boy,” I said, dread coating my voice, as I took in the jungle. At least the others are with me, I thought, and it reassured me.
We walked for a long while, all of us but Skylar completely tired out by the time the sun started to set. Kaliyan and I set up a lean-to against a particularly flat-sided tree, and soon we were all huddled around a very small campfire.
Popping a piece of jerky into his mouth, Felix finally said, “I’m exhausted…let’s go to sleep now.”
We all agreed. I walked over to my pack and took out my blanket, spreading it on the ground to lay on. Then I curled up on my side and drifted into unconsciousness.
My sleep was uneventful, with no dreams, and I was soon woken by a gentle nudging in my back. I opened my eyes, and was briefly disoriented by the muggy air. “Where am I?” I mumbled, struggling to sit up. Then my memories came rushing back to me. “Oh.”
Up and at ‘em, Skylar chimed, then went on to wake Kaliyan.
A muss-haired Felix was already chowing down on a banana, fresh from a tree across the path from ours, and I grabbed myself one. It was quickly gone, as was another one; I was quite hungry that morning from all the walking I'd done the day before. Then we all stood up, packed our bags, and headed out again.
Felix was in the front, being the one who supposedly knew these woods, followed by Skylar, then Kaliyan and yours truly. We walked for hours, and finally stopped when Felix literally collapsed from exhaustion. Then we propped him up against a tree and ate some more jerky, waiting for about an hour until Felix said that he could walk again.
So we set off once more, but we only got a few feet ahead before the road turned sharply to the left and disappeared into the underbrush. We paused before going into the thick forest, where the path was nearly unintelligible from the grasses around it.
“Oh, god,” Kaliyan was saying, over and over again. “Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god.”
I rolled my eyes. “Gimme a break, Kaliyan, we’ll be fine.”
Kaliyan’s POV
“That’s easy for you to say,” I grumbled to Emily, who was gingerly picking her way behind me, next to Skylar. “You’re right next to the giant wolf.”
I heard a huffing noise come from Skylar, and figured he was laughing. I sighed and waited for a little while, waiting for the mandatory exchange between my best friend and Skylar to come to an end. I really hated it when they had their telepathic talks, and even though I could read human minds, I found that I couldn’t figure out what Skylar was thinking.
Yeah, I know, Skye, but you could at least move up a few steps, to comfort her, Emily was reassuring Skylar. There was a pause while he responded, then Emily grinned. Gimme a break, she laughed in her head and Skylar’s—as well as, unknowingly, mine, I’ll be fine. It’s not like I could lose you people when you’re only a few feet in front of me.
There was a loud burst of air, then Skylar quickened to a lope and came up next to me, slowing down a little to match my pace. “Hey, puppy,” I said teasingly. He was silent. “C’mon, I know you can talk in people’s heads, but you’re not talking to me. What’s with that?”
Skylar’s elongated head turned to face me, his expression puzzled. I rolled my eyes. “I can read people’s minds, but not animals’ minds,” I told him, assuming that that’s what he meant, “so you’ll have to just exert yourself a little and—”
A loud bark reverberated off of the trees surrounding us as Skylar shook his head resolutely. Emily gave a perplexed look from where she was walking a few feet behind. “He says that he’s been talking to you, and being weirded out that you haven’t been speaking back.”
“What?! Really?” I asked. “That’s so weird…Like, super weird.”
Emily nodded, and soon we were walking again. I was just kind of thinking, but making sure I stayed on the path, and Skylar had gone back to where Emily was. All was pretty peaceful, and finally we emerged from the forest path and onto a cleared-out one, like before.
The only problem was that this one was a forked path, and none of us could remember which way we were supposed to be heading. “Well,” I said uncertainly, “let’s go right.” We started walking right, and I turned to Emily. “So?” I asked her.
“I…It’s weird, but I can’t see anything at all. Usually I could probably at least get a vague idea that we were going the wrong way, since I’m psychic and all, but I’ve got absolutely nothing.” She blinked, looking profoundly taken aback. “But let’s try this way for a while, and we’ll see. I’m sure it’s just that I’m tired, or something.”
Biting my lip, I nodded. “Okay, Em,” I said, and we kept walking until sunset, when we all sat down around a gigantic tree, bigger than any I’d ever seen, to eat a dinner of mangoes, jerky, and some water from the river, which we’d carefully filtered until we were sure that there were no bug bits left in it, at least. “Well, I’m exhausted, so—”
“Be quiet for a second, Kaliyan,” Emily said seriously, looking straight into the forest, her brow slightly creased like it was when she was deep in concentration. “There’s something—someone—out there.” She narrowed her eyes and slowly stood, then ran into the forest.
I saw a shadow darting back and forth, getting further and further away, and finally it was gone. Emily came back to our little circle and sighed. “What’d you see?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she mumbled dejectedly, biting into a piece of mango. “Just, never mind. Go to bed; I’m just going to finish eating and pack up for the morning.”
Her face was slowly fading from my view as the sun set, so I climbed onto my blanket, curled up, and dreamlessly fell into a deep sleep.
Emily’s POV
I leaned against a tree and closed my eyes, determined not to succumb to rest like my body was begging and pleading for me to. Instead, I remained as wide awake as possible, listening to the many sounds of the forest. My intuition as a clairvoyant was telling me that there was something out of place, and I wasn’t going to ignore it any longer.
Snap. My breath caught in my throat, but I carefully regulated it again and listened as the footfalls got slowly closer, finally stopping. I slid my eyes open a little bit, so that they were about halfway open—the way I usually slept.
This time, though the bottoms weren’t blacked out with sleep, and I watched intently as a form in front of me leaned over and touched Kaliyan’s forehead with two fingers, leaving a kind of glittering residue where he'd pressed his skin to hers. He then moved onto Skylar, placing his forefinger and middle finger on his furry muzzle, then walked up to me.
“I see that you’re sleeping open-eyed as usual, my dear,” he whispered, leaning down. His face was shrouded in shadow as he placed his hand on my wrist and narrowed his eyes until they were slits. “But tonight you’re really not asleep, are you?”
He put his two fingers on my forehead, and a tingling sensation rushed from the two points until it enveloped my entire body. Then the man slowly brought his hand behind my neck and pressed the relaxing pressure point—hard—smiling an infuriatingly gentle smile.
The world went black.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Chapter Seven: Into the Sunset
As the wagon rumbled to a stop, I took in the bustling city, full of merchants, artisans, and a couple beggars. “Wow,” I breathed. “This is amazing.”
Isn’t it? Skylar asked rhetorically as he leapt from the wagon and trotted to the edge of the city, pacing back and forth. I gazed up at the skyscrapers in wonder.
Kaliyan voiced my thoughts. “I never expected skyscrapers in an Amazonian city,” she mused, her gaze similar to my own. Her eyes were faced towards the tips of the towers, which weren’t all that tall. The tallest one seemed to be about 20 stories high.
There was a lurch as we came to a halt yet again, this time in the middle of a marketplace. “Your escort to the jungle will leave whenever you wish it to,” Miguel said. I jumped; I’d forgotten that he was there. “I suggest, however, that you shop a bit. The bazaar here has the most wonderful baked goods, as well as fish, rugs…basically anything you wish.”
Kaliyan expressed her gratitude with a brief thanks. “Thanks, Miguel, we’ll stay here for a little while,” she said with a half-smile that widened considerably when Miguel handed each of us a pouch of glittering silver coins, about the size of dollar coins.
“Since I very much doubt that you brought any reai, here you are.” At our blank look, he said, “The reais is the Brazilian currency. It’s worth about 52 cents.”
We nodded our thanks, then leapt off the cart to join Skylar, who’d followed us and was seated by a stall boasting large, expensive tapestries.
The woman at the stall smiled. “Eu vender-lhe-ei estes para o meio preço, desde que você é crianças,” she said, a very gracious tone to her voice.
I paused. “I didn’t understand any of that…” I muttered, then said to the woman, in Spanish, “Lo siento, no hablo portugués, y hablo solamente un poco español. ¿Usted habla inglés?” After a brief pause, I added, “Do you speak English?” in my own language.
A smile and nod was my response. “Yes, most merchants speak fluent—or close to fluent—English. I was offering you half price for one of these lovely tapestries, since you are little ones, and visitors, no less.” She gave another congenial smile as she held up one of her works.
“No, thanks,” Kaliyan and I both said, but were quickly purchasing other goods, such as arapaima, a Brazilian freshwater fish, and Pão de Queijo, a delicious cheese bread. Then we happened upon what I suppose is Manaus’s equivalent of Monster or Amp: Guaraná.
The guaraná berry apparently had two to three times the caffeine of a coffee bean. The taste wasn’t all that strong, and was sort of apple-like, with a berry after-taste. In short, Guaraná was the best energy drink that I’d ever had.
Kaliyan agreed, especially after she’d downed the whole can. Her eyes widened and she started bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. This, which began as a slight shifting of weight, escalated until she was jumping up and down into the air, as if she was on a pogo stick. “I’m so hyper right now,” she informed me, and I laughed out loud.
As if I didn’t know that already, I thought; Kaliyan beamed at me, of course having read my thoughts. “Go run around the marketplace,” I told her sarcastically. “Please, do something to burn some energy.” To my surprise, she grinned wildly and went off to do just that.
I watched her as she shot off around the bazaar, when suddenly a local boy walked up to me, towing his younger sister by the hand. “Hello,” he said, sticking out a hand to me. I shook it. “I’m Felix, and I noticed that your friend—that is your friend, I hope—was running around the square.” He paused, looking uncertain and a little amused. “This isn’t her first time having Guaraná by any chance, is it?”
“Yeah, it is,” I answered, laughing lightly. “She drank the whole can, too, so I’m a little concerned that she’ll explode or something.”
Felix’s eyes were wide as saucers. “She—honest, she did? My first time, I only could drink a few sips before I was doing flips.” He demonstrated for me right then, executing a perfect back flip and sticking his landing. “That’s…that’s amazing.”
I laughed again. “Kaliyan’s amazing, alright.”
It was then that Kaliyan herself ran back up to me, not even out of breath. “Hey, what’s your name?” she asked Felix. “Mine’s Kaliyan; I’m her best friend. We’re from Minnesota—that’s in the United States, but you probably knew that already. But did you know that Guaraná is really good?” she rambled.
She then turned to me, without pausing, and continued, “By the way, Emily, do we have any more of that stuff? ‘Cause I think I could use some more right now.”
“No way,” Felix and I said in unison, shaking our heads firmly.
Kaliyan frowned. “But why?”
“Because you’re already really, really hyper, that’s why,” I told her. “Besides, we’ve got to go soon. Our cart to the river entrance gets here in about 5 minutes.”
Felix turned to me. “You’re going to the trajeto da água?” he asked. “Why? You must be newcomers, especially since you’ve never heard about Guaraná before…At least wait a while before you take on the trajeto, or you’ll surely…miss out on other things.”
Then his little sister made herself heard by saying, “You’ll die, won’t you, Felix?”
“Not necessarily, Teresa,” Felix answered firmly, looking disapprovingly down at his sister. “Some live, but I’m not sure that unaccompanied children have ever made it.”
He was talking to us for the last part, I was sure. “Well, we’re a little bit more than children,” I informed the dusty boy before me, “and I’m sure that we’ll be fine.”
Felix took a deep breath before offering, in a voice as cautious as can be, “I could come with you. I know this part of the river pretty well, and I’m fairly strong, from hauling fish…and I could be a good translator. Plus, the Amazons think I’m cute.”
“The Amazons are real?” I queried with awe. “You are talking about the women who live in the rainforest, right?”
As Felix nodded, his grin was wide. “Sim.”
“Sim?” Kaliyan repeated, sounding dubious. “What’s that?”
Our new guide blinked, looking a little too apologetic. “It means ‘yes’ in Portuguese. The people of Manaus occasionally slip into our home language, you see…”
I grinned; he was giving us more evidence that a translator was needed. “Of course you can come, Felix, if your parents think it’s okay, and if…well, your sister probably shouldn’t come along.”
Felix nodded eagerly. “Of course not,” he agreed hastily. “Peter will take care of her.”
The first thing I noticed was that Teresa’s eyes lit up with glee, so I took it that Peter was a good person to leave her with. “Okay, Felix,” I finally said. “Welcome to the team.” Felix grinned, his teeth sparkling white in contrast to his dusty skin. “We’d better catch our cart, though, or it’ll leave us behind.”
“No chance of that,” shouted a familiar voice, and around the bend came the wagon we’d ridden there in, carrying none other than Miguel. “Hop on, e pressa!”
Felix leaned over and whispered, “He said to hurry,” into my ear, then bent his knees and literally hopped onto the wagon, while Kaliyan and I just used the ladder.
I plopped myself down on a bench near the back, next to Skylar—who had already been on the wagon—as I saw an even dirtier boy than Felix come out of a nearby shop and start talking animatedly to Teresa. Well, off we go, Skylar said musingly.
And indeed, off we went.
Isn’t it? Skylar asked rhetorically as he leapt from the wagon and trotted to the edge of the city, pacing back and forth. I gazed up at the skyscrapers in wonder.
Kaliyan voiced my thoughts. “I never expected skyscrapers in an Amazonian city,” she mused, her gaze similar to my own. Her eyes were faced towards the tips of the towers, which weren’t all that tall. The tallest one seemed to be about 20 stories high.
There was a lurch as we came to a halt yet again, this time in the middle of a marketplace. “Your escort to the jungle will leave whenever you wish it to,” Miguel said. I jumped; I’d forgotten that he was there. “I suggest, however, that you shop a bit. The bazaar here has the most wonderful baked goods, as well as fish, rugs…basically anything you wish.”
Kaliyan expressed her gratitude with a brief thanks. “Thanks, Miguel, we’ll stay here for a little while,” she said with a half-smile that widened considerably when Miguel handed each of us a pouch of glittering silver coins, about the size of dollar coins.
“Since I very much doubt that you brought any reai, here you are.” At our blank look, he said, “The reais is the Brazilian currency. It’s worth about 52 cents.”
We nodded our thanks, then leapt off the cart to join Skylar, who’d followed us and was seated by a stall boasting large, expensive tapestries.
The woman at the stall smiled. “Eu vender-lhe-ei estes para o meio preço, desde que você é crianças,” she said, a very gracious tone to her voice.
I paused. “I didn’t understand any of that…” I muttered, then said to the woman, in Spanish, “Lo siento, no hablo portugués, y hablo solamente un poco español. ¿Usted habla inglés?” After a brief pause, I added, “Do you speak English?” in my own language.
A smile and nod was my response. “Yes, most merchants speak fluent—or close to fluent—English. I was offering you half price for one of these lovely tapestries, since you are little ones, and visitors, no less.” She gave another congenial smile as she held up one of her works.
“No, thanks,” Kaliyan and I both said, but were quickly purchasing other goods, such as arapaima, a Brazilian freshwater fish, and Pão de Queijo, a delicious cheese bread. Then we happened upon what I suppose is Manaus’s equivalent of Monster or Amp: Guaraná.
The guaraná berry apparently had two to three times the caffeine of a coffee bean. The taste wasn’t all that strong, and was sort of apple-like, with a berry after-taste. In short, Guaraná was the best energy drink that I’d ever had.
Kaliyan agreed, especially after she’d downed the whole can. Her eyes widened and she started bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. This, which began as a slight shifting of weight, escalated until she was jumping up and down into the air, as if she was on a pogo stick. “I’m so hyper right now,” she informed me, and I laughed out loud.
As if I didn’t know that already, I thought; Kaliyan beamed at me, of course having read my thoughts. “Go run around the marketplace,” I told her sarcastically. “Please, do something to burn some energy.” To my surprise, she grinned wildly and went off to do just that.
I watched her as she shot off around the bazaar, when suddenly a local boy walked up to me, towing his younger sister by the hand. “Hello,” he said, sticking out a hand to me. I shook it. “I’m Felix, and I noticed that your friend—that is your friend, I hope—was running around the square.” He paused, looking uncertain and a little amused. “This isn’t her first time having Guaraná by any chance, is it?”
“Yeah, it is,” I answered, laughing lightly. “She drank the whole can, too, so I’m a little concerned that she’ll explode or something.”
Felix’s eyes were wide as saucers. “She—honest, she did? My first time, I only could drink a few sips before I was doing flips.” He demonstrated for me right then, executing a perfect back flip and sticking his landing. “That’s…that’s amazing.”
I laughed again. “Kaliyan’s amazing, alright.”
It was then that Kaliyan herself ran back up to me, not even out of breath. “Hey, what’s your name?” she asked Felix. “Mine’s Kaliyan; I’m her best friend. We’re from Minnesota—that’s in the United States, but you probably knew that already. But did you know that Guaraná is really good?” she rambled.
She then turned to me, without pausing, and continued, “By the way, Emily, do we have any more of that stuff? ‘Cause I think I could use some more right now.”
“No way,” Felix and I said in unison, shaking our heads firmly.
Kaliyan frowned. “But why?”
“Because you’re already really, really hyper, that’s why,” I told her. “Besides, we’ve got to go soon. Our cart to the river entrance gets here in about 5 minutes.”
Felix turned to me. “You’re going to the trajeto da água?” he asked. “Why? You must be newcomers, especially since you’ve never heard about Guaraná before…At least wait a while before you take on the trajeto, or you’ll surely…miss out on other things.”
Then his little sister made herself heard by saying, “You’ll die, won’t you, Felix?”
“Not necessarily, Teresa,” Felix answered firmly, looking disapprovingly down at his sister. “Some live, but I’m not sure that unaccompanied children have ever made it.”
He was talking to us for the last part, I was sure. “Well, we’re a little bit more than children,” I informed the dusty boy before me, “and I’m sure that we’ll be fine.”
Felix took a deep breath before offering, in a voice as cautious as can be, “I could come with you. I know this part of the river pretty well, and I’m fairly strong, from hauling fish…and I could be a good translator. Plus, the Amazons think I’m cute.”
“The Amazons are real?” I queried with awe. “You are talking about the women who live in the rainforest, right?”
As Felix nodded, his grin was wide. “Sim.”
“Sim?” Kaliyan repeated, sounding dubious. “What’s that?”
Our new guide blinked, looking a little too apologetic. “It means ‘yes’ in Portuguese. The people of Manaus occasionally slip into our home language, you see…”
I grinned; he was giving us more evidence that a translator was needed. “Of course you can come, Felix, if your parents think it’s okay, and if…well, your sister probably shouldn’t come along.”
Felix nodded eagerly. “Of course not,” he agreed hastily. “Peter will take care of her.”
The first thing I noticed was that Teresa’s eyes lit up with glee, so I took it that Peter was a good person to leave her with. “Okay, Felix,” I finally said. “Welcome to the team.” Felix grinned, his teeth sparkling white in contrast to his dusty skin. “We’d better catch our cart, though, or it’ll leave us behind.”
“No chance of that,” shouted a familiar voice, and around the bend came the wagon we’d ridden there in, carrying none other than Miguel. “Hop on, e pressa!”
Felix leaned over and whispered, “He said to hurry,” into my ear, then bent his knees and literally hopped onto the wagon, while Kaliyan and I just used the ladder.
I plopped myself down on a bench near the back, next to Skylar—who had already been on the wagon—as I saw an even dirtier boy than Felix come out of a nearby shop and start talking animatedly to Teresa. Well, off we go, Skylar said musingly.
And indeed, off we went.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Chapter Six: No Promises
“That was awkward,” Kaliyan said, then turned to Skylar. “So, what’d you need us so badly for? It’d better have been important, ‘cause you scared us out of our skin.”
Skylar grinned up at her, then shook his shaggy head, as if saying that it wasn’t important. Then he turned to me. Since you already know that I can talk like this, he told me with a wolfy grin, I’ll just tell you that I was listening into your conversation—I have ears like a wolf, remember—and I heard that you found a book that worked. Right?
I nodded. “That’s so cool. But yeah, we’re headed to the Amazon River, hopefully, if we could find a way to convince our parents to let us go…”
Well, you’ve come to the right canine. Skylar pulled my bag down with his teeth, then pawed—no pun intended—through it, finally tugging out a notebook and pen. “Okay, okay, I’ll get it,” I told him, laughing slightly, and opened the notebook to the right page.
Skylar took it and quickly started writing, holding the pen between two non-opposable fingers.
Congratulations!
WolfBane Inc. invites you and 3 friends to enjoy a splendid two months vacationing in the Cayman Islands. Your hotel is located on Rum Point, Grand Cayman, and your plane tickets are already paid for—the plane will be leaving at 3:30 pm, on the afternoon of June the 15th.
Thank you,
Timothy Bane
CEO, WolfBane Inc.
“So, whoever I give that to, their spouse, and the other two can go?” I asked Skylar, who nodded and nudged the beautifully-written page towards me with his nose. “Awesome, Skylar, thanks!” I hugged him tight—or his neck, at least—and showed the paper to Kaliyan. “This is how we’re going to be able to go to the Amazon River,” I told her.
I can pay for your plane tickets, too, Skylar said. Let’s just say that I know a guy who knows a pretty rich guy, who’s pretty charitable. He’ll definitely go for this.
The grin that stretched across my face could be rivaled by none as I squeezed Skylar’s furry neck yet harder, then turned to Kaliyan. “We’ll be flying free of charge, too. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Skylar! I don’t think we could do this without you!”
“No, we couldn’t, because without him we wouldn’t even want to go to Brazil,” Kaliyan pointed out. We laughed together for a moment, and I heard a huffing sound coming from Skylar: the silly grin on his face hinted that he was laughing, too.
I sighed happily. “Well, that takes care of that, then. Now we go stick this in the mailbox, along with the tickets, which I’m sure Skylar will somehow get…?”
Skylar bobbed his huge head. I’ve got a Pack, he reminded me. They’re not stuck, and they know the guy who knows the rich guy as well as…well, probably better than I do. He leaned into me in what I suppose was meant to be a reassuring way, but I almost fell over with the sudden weight. Don’t worry. You’re in good hands.
“Thanks again, Skye,” I repeated. “You’re awesome.”
Kaliyan rolled her eyes. “Okay, lovebirds, time to go. Meet us at Emily's house when you get the plane tickets for four to Grand Cayman, and for…two or three to northern Brazil somewhere…and get that letter written on normal paper, too—it won’t convince anyone if it’s on some wrinkled piece of notebook paper.”
Both my and Skylar’s answering nods were brisk, and soon Kaliyan and I were on our way to my house, probably to watch more movies and while away the time until our adventure began. My only thought as the front door creaked open was, Hopefully he won’t take too long.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Finally!” I shouted as I rushed to the door, opening it wide to accommodate the wolf who was standing behind it, a service dog pack slung over his back.
I peeled the pack open and dug through it, pulling out the official-looking envelope containing the letter, and two envelopes containing our separate tickets. There were 4 for Grand Cayman and only 2 for Brazil—Skylar had assured us that he could run that far in the same amount of time, if not less time, than a plane could fly the same distance.
I wasn’t sure if I believed him fully, but I accepted his terms, as he was the one paying for the tickets in the first place. This wasn’t the time to argue.
Kaliyan and I thanked Skylar, then went to pack, very lightly. I packed one change of clothes—a pair of jean shorts very similar to the ones I was wearing and an old, faded blue t-shirt—as well as a blanket, sunglasses, and tons of money.
Then I slung my bag onto my back and headed to the kitchen, grabbing an A&W for the ride to the airport. Kaliyan emerged from the guest room with her bag, which was…well, as if she were packing for a week-long pleasure trip to Florida.
“Get rid of all that stuff except for one change of clothes and money, Kaliyan,” I instructed, rolling my eyes. “We’re not going on vacation, and we’ll be walking a ton. So you’ll be lugging whatever you pack around as you hike. Capesche?”
Kaliyan smiled sheepishly and went back into the room, emerging a few minutes later with a backpack much like my own. “Better?” she asked, the sheepish smile still on her face.
“Much.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Security, as usual, was horrible, but we lived through it and got onto the plane with no problem, flashing our passports multiple times as we went. The ride was thoroughly uneventful, but extremely long, and when we finally arrived at the Eduardo Gomes International Airport in Brazil, my legs felt weak and rubbery from disuse, and I was hardly able to stumble down the aisle.
“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,” Kaliyan muttered as she staggered along behind me. “God, my legs are, like…ugh. Blah this.”
I shot her a look, then we struggled towards the shuttles. To my immense surprise, there was Skylar, sitting right next to the door with his service dog pack on. “You’re a little too big to be a Husky,” I whispered to him as we walked towards a wagon that was headed to the city of Manaus, Brazil.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, he replied with a wolfy chuckle.
We boarded the wagon, and were shown to our seats by a dark-skinned native, who told us in accented English that his name was Miguel Mendes, and that he was there to help us and our ‘dog.’ We thanked him, of course, but said that we needed no help.
“I will be here when you do, then,” Miguel responded, then turned around and shouted, to the man astride the horse in front, “A aprovação, deixou-nos vai!”
Whatever that means, I thought to myself with a wry smile.
After a short while of bumping along a dirt path, I decided to ask Miguel some questions. “So Miguel, what language do you speak here?”
He just shrugged. “Mainly Portuguese, but some of a language called Nhengatu,” he told us. “I was speaking Portuguese to Davi up there, earlier.”
“Escute! Nós estamos quase lá!” Davi, the man on the horse, called back.
Miguel nodded sharply. “Quanto hora?” he asked.
“Talvez cinco minutos.”
I grinned. “Hey, I understood some of that. Davi said…well, ‘escute’ sounds kind of like ‘escuche,’ in Spanish, so he said something like ‘Listen! We are…something.’ And then you asked how much time it would take, and he said something, then ‘five minutes.’”
“Very astute,” Miguel said. “Portuguese is much like Spanish…By the way, he said that we were almost there, and talvez means ‘maybe’ or ‘about.’”
Kaliyan nodded. “So Emily can probably translate a little bit…right, Em?”
“Well, I can try…but no promises.”
Skylar grinned up at her, then shook his shaggy head, as if saying that it wasn’t important. Then he turned to me. Since you already know that I can talk like this, he told me with a wolfy grin, I’ll just tell you that I was listening into your conversation—I have ears like a wolf, remember—and I heard that you found a book that worked. Right?
I nodded. “That’s so cool. But yeah, we’re headed to the Amazon River, hopefully, if we could find a way to convince our parents to let us go…”
Well, you’ve come to the right canine. Skylar pulled my bag down with his teeth, then pawed—no pun intended—through it, finally tugging out a notebook and pen. “Okay, okay, I’ll get it,” I told him, laughing slightly, and opened the notebook to the right page.
Skylar took it and quickly started writing, holding the pen between two non-opposable fingers.
Congratulations!
WolfBane Inc. invites you and 3 friends to enjoy a splendid two months vacationing in the Cayman Islands. Your hotel is located on Rum Point, Grand Cayman, and your plane tickets are already paid for—the plane will be leaving at 3:30 pm, on the afternoon of June the 15th.
Thank you,
Timothy Bane
CEO, WolfBane Inc.
“So, whoever I give that to, their spouse, and the other two can go?” I asked Skylar, who nodded and nudged the beautifully-written page towards me with his nose. “Awesome, Skylar, thanks!” I hugged him tight—or his neck, at least—and showed the paper to Kaliyan. “This is how we’re going to be able to go to the Amazon River,” I told her.
I can pay for your plane tickets, too, Skylar said. Let’s just say that I know a guy who knows a pretty rich guy, who’s pretty charitable. He’ll definitely go for this.
The grin that stretched across my face could be rivaled by none as I squeezed Skylar’s furry neck yet harder, then turned to Kaliyan. “We’ll be flying free of charge, too. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Skylar! I don’t think we could do this without you!”
“No, we couldn’t, because without him we wouldn’t even want to go to Brazil,” Kaliyan pointed out. We laughed together for a moment, and I heard a huffing sound coming from Skylar: the silly grin on his face hinted that he was laughing, too.
I sighed happily. “Well, that takes care of that, then. Now we go stick this in the mailbox, along with the tickets, which I’m sure Skylar will somehow get…?”
Skylar bobbed his huge head. I’ve got a Pack, he reminded me. They’re not stuck, and they know the guy who knows the rich guy as well as…well, probably better than I do. He leaned into me in what I suppose was meant to be a reassuring way, but I almost fell over with the sudden weight. Don’t worry. You’re in good hands.
“Thanks again, Skye,” I repeated. “You’re awesome.”
Kaliyan rolled her eyes. “Okay, lovebirds, time to go. Meet us at Emily's house when you get the plane tickets for four to Grand Cayman, and for…two or three to northern Brazil somewhere…and get that letter written on normal paper, too—it won’t convince anyone if it’s on some wrinkled piece of notebook paper.”
Both my and Skylar’s answering nods were brisk, and soon Kaliyan and I were on our way to my house, probably to watch more movies and while away the time until our adventure began. My only thought as the front door creaked open was, Hopefully he won’t take too long.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Finally!” I shouted as I rushed to the door, opening it wide to accommodate the wolf who was standing behind it, a service dog pack slung over his back.
I peeled the pack open and dug through it, pulling out the official-looking envelope containing the letter, and two envelopes containing our separate tickets. There were 4 for Grand Cayman and only 2 for Brazil—Skylar had assured us that he could run that far in the same amount of time, if not less time, than a plane could fly the same distance.
I wasn’t sure if I believed him fully, but I accepted his terms, as he was the one paying for the tickets in the first place. This wasn’t the time to argue.
Kaliyan and I thanked Skylar, then went to pack, very lightly. I packed one change of clothes—a pair of jean shorts very similar to the ones I was wearing and an old, faded blue t-shirt—as well as a blanket, sunglasses, and tons of money.
Then I slung my bag onto my back and headed to the kitchen, grabbing an A&W for the ride to the airport. Kaliyan emerged from the guest room with her bag, which was…well, as if she were packing for a week-long pleasure trip to Florida.
“Get rid of all that stuff except for one change of clothes and money, Kaliyan,” I instructed, rolling my eyes. “We’re not going on vacation, and we’ll be walking a ton. So you’ll be lugging whatever you pack around as you hike. Capesche?”
Kaliyan smiled sheepishly and went back into the room, emerging a few minutes later with a backpack much like my own. “Better?” she asked, the sheepish smile still on her face.
“Much.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Security, as usual, was horrible, but we lived through it and got onto the plane with no problem, flashing our passports multiple times as we went. The ride was thoroughly uneventful, but extremely long, and when we finally arrived at the Eduardo Gomes International Airport in Brazil, my legs felt weak and rubbery from disuse, and I was hardly able to stumble down the aisle.
“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,” Kaliyan muttered as she staggered along behind me. “God, my legs are, like…ugh. Blah this.”
I shot her a look, then we struggled towards the shuttles. To my immense surprise, there was Skylar, sitting right next to the door with his service dog pack on. “You’re a little too big to be a Husky,” I whispered to him as we walked towards a wagon that was headed to the city of Manaus, Brazil.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, he replied with a wolfy chuckle.
We boarded the wagon, and were shown to our seats by a dark-skinned native, who told us in accented English that his name was Miguel Mendes, and that he was there to help us and our ‘dog.’ We thanked him, of course, but said that we needed no help.
“I will be here when you do, then,” Miguel responded, then turned around and shouted, to the man astride the horse in front, “A aprovação, deixou-nos vai!”
Whatever that means, I thought to myself with a wry smile.
After a short while of bumping along a dirt path, I decided to ask Miguel some questions. “So Miguel, what language do you speak here?”
He just shrugged. “Mainly Portuguese, but some of a language called Nhengatu,” he told us. “I was speaking Portuguese to Davi up there, earlier.”
“Escute! Nós estamos quase lá!” Davi, the man on the horse, called back.
Miguel nodded sharply. “Quanto hora?” he asked.
“Talvez cinco minutos.”
I grinned. “Hey, I understood some of that. Davi said…well, ‘escute’ sounds kind of like ‘escuche,’ in Spanish, so he said something like ‘Listen! We are…something.’ And then you asked how much time it would take, and he said something, then ‘five minutes.’”
“Very astute,” Miguel said. “Portuguese is much like Spanish…By the way, he said that we were almost there, and talvez means ‘maybe’ or ‘about.’”
Kaliyan nodded. “So Emily can probably translate a little bit…right, Em?”
“Well, I can try…but no promises.”
Chapter Five: Houston...
Kaliyan and I cheered. “Yay! Thanks!” we shouted in chorus.
“No problem,” Skylar said wryly, then grabbed my arm and started running. I managed to get a firm grip on Kaliyan before we rocketed out of the park and down the street, darting in and out of the sparse traffic in order to get to our unknown destination.
I was out of breath in seconds. “Where’re we…going?” I gasped. A faint response drifted back on the wind, but I couldn’t really hear it. I sighed. “Can’t…hear you. Say…again.”
“He said ‘You’ll see,’” Kaliyan offered from behind me. I nodded my thanks and directed my efforts towards keeping up with Skylar, who was running faster than I’d ever seen anyone run before, towards…the nature preserve!
Finally, we screeched to a stop at the bottom of the bridge, Kaliyan huffing, me gasping for air, and Skylar leaning nonchalantly against a wooden fencepost. “Jeez,” he commented, “did I really wear you two out with a short jog down the block?” He then winked, so I took it as a joke.
When I regained some of my breath, I stood up straight and asked, “We’re going into the preserve?” Skylar nodded. “Why?” I started to ask, then realized that a lycan would need some privacy to change forms; he wouldn’t want to be spotted either changing into a wolf or in his birthday suit.
The lycan in question had already removed his shirt—revealing a very distinct 6-pack—and was beckoning for Kaliyan and I to follow him over the bridge. We did, and were soon emerging from behind a tree to see a larger version of the wolf I saw, all those years ago.
“Cool,” Kaliyan breathed.
I nodded. “Very cool.”
My friend and I watched as the wolf moved silkily towards us, then bowed its head and grinned a wolfy grin. Then a strange guttural noise came from the creature.
Kaliyan’s face twisted in confusion. “‘Hi’?” she guessed, and the wolf nodded its large head. “Oh, so you’re talking to us.” Another nod. “Okay.”
“How did you understand him?!” I asked, amazed; I hadn’t heard anything but a strange grunt. Kaliyan shrugged, then gave me a sly smile. I immediately understood. “You—” I began, then stopped and thought the rest of my message. You read his mind, I thought to her. She nodded. And you want him to think you’re some wolf-understanding prodigy or something, or just don’t want to tell him? She shrugged. He knows that you’re telepathic, Kaliyan.
She heaved a huge sigh, then thought, I know. I could only hear it because she pushed it at me, and it wiggled its way from her mind into mine. I smiled. “Anyway, thanks, Skylar. You can change back now…I don’t want you to get stuck or anything.”
“Haha, like the Animorphs,” Kaliyan shouted. “They can only stay in a certain form for 2 hours or they change permanently.”
I rolled my eyes. “You would think of that,” I scoffed, then listened very carefully as Skylar emitted another series of sounds. I looked at Kaliyan and thought, Any ideas?
“He says that he’s been doing this—changing into a wolf—for over 10 years and that sometimes he’s been in that form for days and weeks. He won’t get stuck.” She smiled proudly, then turned back to Skylar. “Right?”
The wolf nodded his head again, then closed his bright turquoise eyes, which matched that of Skylar’s human form. He seemed to concentrate.
A few moments later, his eyes opened, and they were wide with panic. He grunted and barked out a message, this time directly to Kaliyan; he’d figured out that I couldn’t understand him. “He says that he…” Kaliyan began, then broke off. Her expression became bewildered. “What do you mean you really can’t change back?! I thought you said—”
Skylar barked loudly, his furry eyebrows pulled down low over his eyes. “Emily, are you a fate-shifter?” Kaliyan asked me rhetorically, then answered her own question with a, “Um, no. She’s not. Any more pointless, weird questions?”
The wolf’s huge head was lowered to the ground as two huge eyes slid shut. I thought I saw a glimmering tear slide from one of the eyes, but a second later it was gone, so I couldn’t be sure. “I’m so sorry, Skylar. I don’t know what I did…but I wasn’t trying to get you stuck or anything.”
I knelt down beside the giant dog and put a ginger hand on his neck, stroking it like I would a normal canine. “We’ll get you back to normal,” I promised, my voice a little raw for some reason. “I swear on my life, we’ll find a way to get you human again.”
Skylar’s head rose up, carrying my hand with it, and he gently leaned his head into my stomach. Suddenly a thought made its way into my head, and it wasn’t mine or Kaliyan’s. Thanks, it said, and it sounded exactly like the boy in front of me.
“S-Skye?” I whispered, slipping into the nickname with ease. “Was that you?”
I heard Skylar laugh in my head. Yeah. You didn’t think I’d be mute when I was in wolf form, did you? Wow, you humans really are naïve. There was another chuckle, seeming to echo, then Skylar sobered up a little bit and decided to inform me a little more.
It’s pretty much like in that stupid book, Twilight, except it’s not just to members of my Pack, and it’s not all of my thoughts. Basically, when I’m in this form, I’m a one-way telepathic, and that one way is outwards. Get it?
“Got it,” I said, expecting him to say just what he did: Good.
Kaliyan sat beside me and asked, “Is he, like, talking in your head or something? Like I do?” I nodded mutely, staring into Skylar’s vibrant eyes. “That’s cool. So how can we get him to not be a giant wolf any more? Do you have any ideas? ‘Cause I sure don’t.”
“Nope,” I said, tearing my eyes away from Skylar’s. “I’ve got nothing. Maybe we could stop by the library or something, later, and get some information on lycans…”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A loud groan escaped my lips as I shut what seemed to be the millionth book I’d looked through so far. “This book’s crap, too,” I called to Kaliyan, who sighed and set her book on top of our stack. Lycans: The Research of Carolina Dilauro was the title.
“Ditto here,” she said dejectedly, opening up yet another manuscript. I did the same.
We’d been going through book after book about lycans, werewolves, shape-shifters, and more, but so far had found absolutely nothing that we needed. They were all about ways to cure yourself of lycanthropy and how to become a lycanthrope and such; there wasn’t a word about a lycan or shape-shifter getting stuck in his/her other form.
I pulled another paperback off the shelf and dubiously opened it up, paging to the table of contents and scanning it quickly. I then flipped to the ‘Ailments’ section, and skimmed through that. I wasn’t very focused, as my thoughts were that this would be useless as well, but I immediately snapped to attention when I saw a heading that read Morphing difficulties.
Then I quickly read the article beneath it, sure that this was the answer.
I leaned over to Kaliyan and tapped her on the back. “Hey, Kali,” I whispered, “I found someone who could help Skylar. His name is Doctor Kingston—” I pointed to his name, “—and he’s supposedly an expert on shape-shifters and this particular…phenomenon, where the shifter gets stuck in one form. It’s just in Brazil, which isn’t all that far away. South America, at least, so not overseas.”
“Okay, so who’s gonna get our parents to buy this and let us go to the Amazon River?” Kaliyan asked, after reading the passage.
That I didn’t know. “I volunteer you,” I said, grinning, “but maybe—”
All of a sudden the intercom bleeped, and a lady announced that we should come to the front desk. We leapt to our feet, abandoning all the books except for the one with the information on Dr. Kingston, which I stuffed into my trusty hobo bag. Then we ran to the front to see an extremely random man standing there.
“Hello, girls,” he said with a strained smile, then took Kaliyan’s hand and dropped a slip of paper into it. She held it up to her eyes, read whatever it said, then nodded at me, looking a little amused.
We followed the guy out onto the street, where he stopped in front of Skylar.
The man took a deep breath. “This, um, wolf,” he began, sounding uncertain about Skylar’s species, apparently, “wrote for me to retrieve you from the library. I’m not sure how he gained the intelligence required to write, and I won’t inquire about it, as I’m not quite sure that I’d like to know.”
He paused. “My name is Isaac Mayer, for future reference, and I’m…well, see for yourself. Here’s my card.” He handed me a business card, which I stuck into the lycan book to mark the page that I wanted. It’s got tons of purposes, I thought to myself with a smile.
“Thanks, Mr. Mayer,” I said, really meaning it. “We, um, trained him to be able to—”
Mr. Mayer held up his hand. “No, no, I said that I didn’t want to know, my dear,” he said with a warm smile, “and you may call me Isaac.”
“Well, then, thank you very much, Isaac. Whatever our…dog needed us for, I’m sure that it was an emergency.” I directed this last fragment towards Skylar, along with a meaningful look. “Anyway, we should probably be going. Thanks again.”
Isaac nodded firmly, then strode away.
“No problem,” Skylar said wryly, then grabbed my arm and started running. I managed to get a firm grip on Kaliyan before we rocketed out of the park and down the street, darting in and out of the sparse traffic in order to get to our unknown destination.
I was out of breath in seconds. “Where’re we…going?” I gasped. A faint response drifted back on the wind, but I couldn’t really hear it. I sighed. “Can’t…hear you. Say…again.”
“He said ‘You’ll see,’” Kaliyan offered from behind me. I nodded my thanks and directed my efforts towards keeping up with Skylar, who was running faster than I’d ever seen anyone run before, towards…the nature preserve!
Finally, we screeched to a stop at the bottom of the bridge, Kaliyan huffing, me gasping for air, and Skylar leaning nonchalantly against a wooden fencepost. “Jeez,” he commented, “did I really wear you two out with a short jog down the block?” He then winked, so I took it as a joke.
When I regained some of my breath, I stood up straight and asked, “We’re going into the preserve?” Skylar nodded. “Why?” I started to ask, then realized that a lycan would need some privacy to change forms; he wouldn’t want to be spotted either changing into a wolf or in his birthday suit.
The lycan in question had already removed his shirt—revealing a very distinct 6-pack—and was beckoning for Kaliyan and I to follow him over the bridge. We did, and were soon emerging from behind a tree to see a larger version of the wolf I saw, all those years ago.
“Cool,” Kaliyan breathed.
I nodded. “Very cool.”
My friend and I watched as the wolf moved silkily towards us, then bowed its head and grinned a wolfy grin. Then a strange guttural noise came from the creature.
Kaliyan’s face twisted in confusion. “‘Hi’?” she guessed, and the wolf nodded its large head. “Oh, so you’re talking to us.” Another nod. “Okay.”
“How did you understand him?!” I asked, amazed; I hadn’t heard anything but a strange grunt. Kaliyan shrugged, then gave me a sly smile. I immediately understood. “You—” I began, then stopped and thought the rest of my message. You read his mind, I thought to her. She nodded. And you want him to think you’re some wolf-understanding prodigy or something, or just don’t want to tell him? She shrugged. He knows that you’re telepathic, Kaliyan.
She heaved a huge sigh, then thought, I know. I could only hear it because she pushed it at me, and it wiggled its way from her mind into mine. I smiled. “Anyway, thanks, Skylar. You can change back now…I don’t want you to get stuck or anything.”
“Haha, like the Animorphs,” Kaliyan shouted. “They can only stay in a certain form for 2 hours or they change permanently.”
I rolled my eyes. “You would think of that,” I scoffed, then listened very carefully as Skylar emitted another series of sounds. I looked at Kaliyan and thought, Any ideas?
“He says that he’s been doing this—changing into a wolf—for over 10 years and that sometimes he’s been in that form for days and weeks. He won’t get stuck.” She smiled proudly, then turned back to Skylar. “Right?”
The wolf nodded his head again, then closed his bright turquoise eyes, which matched that of Skylar’s human form. He seemed to concentrate.
A few moments later, his eyes opened, and they were wide with panic. He grunted and barked out a message, this time directly to Kaliyan; he’d figured out that I couldn’t understand him. “He says that he…” Kaliyan began, then broke off. Her expression became bewildered. “What do you mean you really can’t change back?! I thought you said—”
Skylar barked loudly, his furry eyebrows pulled down low over his eyes. “Emily, are you a fate-shifter?” Kaliyan asked me rhetorically, then answered her own question with a, “Um, no. She’s not. Any more pointless, weird questions?”
The wolf’s huge head was lowered to the ground as two huge eyes slid shut. I thought I saw a glimmering tear slide from one of the eyes, but a second later it was gone, so I couldn’t be sure. “I’m so sorry, Skylar. I don’t know what I did…but I wasn’t trying to get you stuck or anything.”
I knelt down beside the giant dog and put a ginger hand on his neck, stroking it like I would a normal canine. “We’ll get you back to normal,” I promised, my voice a little raw for some reason. “I swear on my life, we’ll find a way to get you human again.”
Skylar’s head rose up, carrying my hand with it, and he gently leaned his head into my stomach. Suddenly a thought made its way into my head, and it wasn’t mine or Kaliyan’s. Thanks, it said, and it sounded exactly like the boy in front of me.
“S-Skye?” I whispered, slipping into the nickname with ease. “Was that you?”
I heard Skylar laugh in my head. Yeah. You didn’t think I’d be mute when I was in wolf form, did you? Wow, you humans really are naïve. There was another chuckle, seeming to echo, then Skylar sobered up a little bit and decided to inform me a little more.
It’s pretty much like in that stupid book, Twilight, except it’s not just to members of my Pack, and it’s not all of my thoughts. Basically, when I’m in this form, I’m a one-way telepathic, and that one way is outwards. Get it?
“Got it,” I said, expecting him to say just what he did: Good.
Kaliyan sat beside me and asked, “Is he, like, talking in your head or something? Like I do?” I nodded mutely, staring into Skylar’s vibrant eyes. “That’s cool. So how can we get him to not be a giant wolf any more? Do you have any ideas? ‘Cause I sure don’t.”
“Nope,” I said, tearing my eyes away from Skylar’s. “I’ve got nothing. Maybe we could stop by the library or something, later, and get some information on lycans…”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A loud groan escaped my lips as I shut what seemed to be the millionth book I’d looked through so far. “This book’s crap, too,” I called to Kaliyan, who sighed and set her book on top of our stack. Lycans: The Research of Carolina Dilauro was the title.
“Ditto here,” she said dejectedly, opening up yet another manuscript. I did the same.
We’d been going through book after book about lycans, werewolves, shape-shifters, and more, but so far had found absolutely nothing that we needed. They were all about ways to cure yourself of lycanthropy and how to become a lycanthrope and such; there wasn’t a word about a lycan or shape-shifter getting stuck in his/her other form.
I pulled another paperback off the shelf and dubiously opened it up, paging to the table of contents and scanning it quickly. I then flipped to the ‘Ailments’ section, and skimmed through that. I wasn’t very focused, as my thoughts were that this would be useless as well, but I immediately snapped to attention when I saw a heading that read Morphing difficulties.
Then I quickly read the article beneath it, sure that this was the answer.
One morphing difficulty, and most probably the most common, is being what some call ‘crippled’ or ‘frozen’ in one form. This can be extremely wearying, as being stuck in one form is quite awkward, especially when you’ve been a shape-shifter for quite a while.
There are only three known specialist in the area of shape-shifting that knows anything about this, and only one that knows the cure, and he refuses to tell anyone—including me, your author—anything about it.
His name is Doctor Anthony Kingston, and he can usually be found at his tree-top home near the Amazon River in Brazil, although I don’t recommend going to visit him unless you’ve got a real, live shifter who’s caught in a form, in which case, let them go themselves, and come to me with pictures of them shifting (if you got some before they became frozen, that is).
There are only three known specialist in the area of shape-shifting that knows anything about this, and only one that knows the cure, and he refuses to tell anyone—including me, your author—anything about it.
His name is Doctor Anthony Kingston, and he can usually be found at his tree-top home near the Amazon River in Brazil, although I don’t recommend going to visit him unless you’ve got a real, live shifter who’s caught in a form, in which case, let them go themselves, and come to me with pictures of them shifting (if you got some before they became frozen, that is).
I leaned over to Kaliyan and tapped her on the back. “Hey, Kali,” I whispered, “I found someone who could help Skylar. His name is Doctor Kingston—” I pointed to his name, “—and he’s supposedly an expert on shape-shifters and this particular…phenomenon, where the shifter gets stuck in one form. It’s just in Brazil, which isn’t all that far away. South America, at least, so not overseas.”
“Okay, so who’s gonna get our parents to buy this and let us go to the Amazon River?” Kaliyan asked, after reading the passage.
That I didn’t know. “I volunteer you,” I said, grinning, “but maybe—”
All of a sudden the intercom bleeped, and a lady announced that we should come to the front desk. We leapt to our feet, abandoning all the books except for the one with the information on Dr. Kingston, which I stuffed into my trusty hobo bag. Then we ran to the front to see an extremely random man standing there.
“Hello, girls,” he said with a strained smile, then took Kaliyan’s hand and dropped a slip of paper into it. She held it up to her eyes, read whatever it said, then nodded at me, looking a little amused.
We followed the guy out onto the street, where he stopped in front of Skylar.
The man took a deep breath. “This, um, wolf,” he began, sounding uncertain about Skylar’s species, apparently, “wrote for me to retrieve you from the library. I’m not sure how he gained the intelligence required to write, and I won’t inquire about it, as I’m not quite sure that I’d like to know.”
He paused. “My name is Isaac Mayer, for future reference, and I’m…well, see for yourself. Here’s my card.” He handed me a business card, which I stuck into the lycan book to mark the page that I wanted. It’s got tons of purposes, I thought to myself with a smile.
“Thanks, Mr. Mayer,” I said, really meaning it. “We, um, trained him to be able to—”
Mr. Mayer held up his hand. “No, no, I said that I didn’t want to know, my dear,” he said with a warm smile, “and you may call me Isaac.”
“Well, then, thank you very much, Isaac. Whatever our…dog needed us for, I’m sure that it was an emergency.” I directed this last fragment towards Skylar, along with a meaningful look. “Anyway, we should probably be going. Thanks again.”
Isaac nodded firmly, then strode away.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
