Microsoft Word - sk-ss-pdf.doc (16 page)

I sat up in bed, letting the covers fall away, hoping the crisp air would shake the fuzziness from my brain. How could that be?

How could I hear the same language in my dream that they'd spoken?

Maybe you didn't, I tried to tell myself. It might not have been the same at all. Or maybe you just heard it last night and incorporated it into your dream.

Except I knew that wasn't true. Last night's dream had been like all the others. That female alien spoke to me every time. Her intonation never varied, and I always heard the same little fragments, never the whole thing, like the reception was fading in and out.

123

The Silver Spoon

I had to find Caelan. I swung my feet to the floor, then stopped. Caelan might be able to tell me what the female was saying, if it was the same language and if I could remember it well enough. But would he? And would he tell the truth or only give me the parts that supported his theory?

I lay back down and pulled the covers up again, feeling more alone than I had in days. I couldn't trust him anymore. No, correction. I didn't trust him anymore. An unexpected sense of loss spiraled through me, coiling in my stomach and pulling at my heart. I didn't trust him, but I wanted to. And that wasn't smart. No matter what Caelan's up to, what you want hasn't changed, I told myself, trying to ignore the ache in my throat that I suspected might become tears if I let it. I still needed answers about my dreams and what they meant. If I could find someone to tell me what those phrases meant, I'd be that much closer. My eyes fell on the bandage tape on my nightstand again. Caelan wasn't the only one who might be able to help me with that. I swallowed hard as I lay there, considering whether I could actually go through with it. Namere clearly knew that same strange language that Caelan did. If it was the same one as in my dream, she had just as good a chance of figuring out as he did. Plus, she might actually tell me what she discovered straight out instead of trying to manipulate me with it.

I inched myself up in bed but didn't stand just yet. Thing was, I wasn't one hundred percent sure I could trust Namere either. True, she'd helped me with the bandaging. And she'd seemed awed enough by what I'd done, though if she'd been sickened that might have made me feel better about her. But who knew? Maybe she was just waiting for an opportunity to strike back in Asha's defense, earning herself a place of glory once Asha recovered. Not to mention the fact that I wasn't sure I could even be in the same room with her alone and not have a major anxiety attack; she looked so much like the one from my dream.

124

Stacey Klemstein

Then again, once Asha recovered, I'd probably have no hope of getting anyone to help me with this, including Caelan. After all, I'd have some trouble relaying what I'd heard in a dream if Asha killed me first.

I got to my feet, wincing at the pressure in my chest, then headed for the door. I had my hand on the knob when I stopped, feeling like I was about to do something wrong. Like I was a teenager sneaking out of the house or a kid in the hall without a pass. No one had come to get me. Was I supposed to just wait here? It felt weird to go wandering around on my own. But then again, how long was I supposed to sit here? The strange words were growing dimmer in my mind with each moment. I pulled the door open. But there were no shouts of alarm, no orders to close the door. So, I stepped out into the hall. Can lights in the ceiling cast small circles of brightness onto the reddishbrown carpeting? Looking up and down the hallway, I realized they'd taken me to the first room they'd reached, only a few feet from the top of the stairs. But all the other doors into the hall were now closed, unlike when I'd come up here earlier. Namere could be behind any one of them.

I sighed. I couldn't just go knocking on doors. Chances were good that I'd get Caelan or Thane or a healing and kind of grumpy Asha. I frowned, trying to remember what Namere had said to me last night before leaving my room. Something about calling her if I needed her.

Well, clearly she hadn't meant by telephone, though I did have the cell phone. But I had the feeling that might have been Caelan's idea. He evidently knew I'd used it before. So much for hiding it from a telepath. But I doubted that Namere had a cell of her own. Caelan seemed the only one...human enough for it. I bit my lower lip, thinking. They were all telepathic, not just Caelan. Asha had proved that last night. So maybe... I retreated to my room and closed the door. Feeling a bit like 125

The Silver Spoon

a dope, I sat on the bed again and closed my eyes. I concentrated on Namere's face, though honestly the details were a little fuzzy. I'd avoided looking at her directly as much as possible. But I remembered her eyes, silver and gray, slightly different from the entirely silver eyes belonging to the female in my dream. And Namere wore her silvery white hair long but with bangs, another difference.

I was so focused that I almost missed the light tapping at my door. I opened my eyes and stared at the closed door across the room, like I could see through it to see who stood on the other side. I got up off the bed to answer the door. "If this is her," I muttered, "this is better than room service." I pulled open the door to find Namere waiting there, patiently. As soon as she saw me, her eyes dropped to the floor. And as soon as I saw her, I instinctively stepped back. Weren't we a pair?

"You called," she said. A statement, not a question.

"Yeah." I backed up a little further only this time it was to give her room to come in. "But how did you hear me?"

"I could feel it," she said, "pulling at my mind." I frowned. "Does it hurt?"

She looked up, then, startled. "Of course not." I shrugged. "Okay."

We stood there in silence for a few seconds. She still in the hallway and me in the center of the room. My brain slowly pieced together that a lack of invitation might be why she remained outside. "You want to come in?" I asked. She stepped in the room. I started toward her to close the door behind her, but still, whenever I got within a few feet of her, something inside me screamed, like all the nerves in my body standing on end at once. I stopped.

"Can you just, uh, close the door?" I backed away from her until the panicked sensation in me ceased.

126

Stacey Klemstein

She did as I asked, then stood as far from me as possible in the small room. Over near the bed, I started to pace, a million thoughts at once tumbling through my brain. Should I trust her?

Could I trust her? Where to start explaining? What if she couldn't or wouldn't help me?

Finally, I stopped. Useless worrying wouldn't get me anywhere. Take a leap, I told myself.

"How much has Caelan told you about me?" I asked. She didn't look up from the floor. "That you are the human from his vision, meant to lead us against Nevan in victory."

"Okay," I said, thinking. "Nothing else?"

"No."

"All right." I tried to figure out how best to explain without revealing my major weakness: I had no idea how I'd done what I'd done to defeat Asha. And therefore had no clue about the scope of my own abilities, where they'd come from or how to control them.

"So here's the thing, I..." I trailed off when I noticed she still wasn't watching me. I realized I might have just committed another alien faux pas. "You can look up." She immediately brought her gaze up to mine, and I could see the pride burning there. She'd submit herself to me, but that didn't mean she was carpet to walk on. I started to say, just treat me like you would anyone. I'm not really your leader. Except...I thought that being their leader, even for pretend, might be the only thing keeping me alive. So, I kept my mouth shut.

"Okay, so as I was saying, I have these dreams. Weird ones." I continued pacing. Now I was the one staring down at the floor. It was easier for me to concentrate that way. "And in them I keep hearing these little bits of sentences, in another language." I looked up at her then. "The same language I heard you and Caelan speaking, I think."

I waited for her to protest that it couldn't be. But she said nothing.

127

The Silver Spoon

"Anyway, I was hoping you could maybe help me." I stopped pacing to stand as close to her as I dared.

"You wish me to translate the words into your language," she said. A faint frown furrowed her brow.

I nodded.

She shook her head. "Unless you allow me to touch your mind while you are dreaming–"

"No," I said instantly, then tried to soften it. "I mean, I don't think that's necessary." I stepped a little closer to her. "I've been having these dreams for the better part of two years now. I can tell you the words, the sounds, I just don't know what they mean." She stared at me for a long moment, her eyes cold and flat. But then she said, "You may begin."

"Tay vassas a nee." I stumbled over the unfamiliar sounds. Namere shook her head slightly, a frown pinching her forehead. "It cannot have the exact meaning in your language, but it is something like, you are going here."

"Tay retas abatra."

"You stay still."

"Sel voto e na' tay."

"They are not devoted to you..." she paused, "No. They care not for you."

"Jol vatre ne' tay."

"I will go from you never."

"Eenashi." I struggled over the last word, the one I always heard just when the darkness closed over me. "Or something like that. By then her voice, or whatever I'm hearing, is always fading away."

"Eenashi." Namere frowned. "I am not certain–"

"An'Ashi. It means blessed one, or in this case, gifted child." Caelan's voice sounded in the room, startling me. I looked up to find him standing in the doorway with a pile of clothes in his hands, but I hadn't even heard the door open. 128

Stacey Klemstein

"How did you–" I started to ask.

"You hear the words correctly in your head," he said.

"Caelan is far more gifted in hearing thoughts than I am," Namere said.

"It doesn't mean anything," I said to Caelan, referring to the now-translated phrase.

"That is the correct translation into your language," Namere said. She hesitated, then continued, "If you do not believe what I have told you, then I await your punishment."

"What? No." I shook my head at her. "God, no. You did what I asked you to. Just...it's okay."

"It confirms what I told you of your dream earlier," he said.

"That you were a child and you were near Observers at that time. There is no other explanation for your knowledge of our language."

"But it's not possible." Anger started to build within me. "I was born in 1977. You didn't arrive here until 2001, so it can't be..." I stopped myself, words trailing off. "Unless...you didn't." I stared up at Caelan and Namere. "Unless you got here long before then and revealed it only when you were ready." As soon as I heard myself say the words, I shook my head. "That's nuts, forget it."

"I came to show you evidence that everything is not as it seems." He lifted up the pile of clothing he still held. "When you are ready. There is a bath down the hall, if you wish it." I noticed then for the first time that he must have showered recently. Dampness still colored his hair a shade darker than its normal brown, and days of stubble were now gone from his face, further revealing that marvelous mouth. He had new clothes too, a v-neck gray sweater worn untucked over a different pair of jeans. He looked good. Better than good. Touchably good, which made me only that much more aware of my dirty and disheveled state. I caught a flicker of a smile on Namere's face, the first 129

The Silver Spoon

expression of positive emotion I'd seen from her. But I didn't like that it seemed to be at my expense.

"Yeah, a chance to clean up would be good." I shifted a bit uncomfortably.

"Keep the tape dry," Namere instructed. "I will await your call again, if you require." And then she left, ducking her head to me as she did.

"I feel like I should ring a bell for someone to bring me my throne and scepter," I muttered.

"The order of power is all we have, so we uphold it fiercely," Caelan said.

I stepped forward and took the clothes from him. "You want to show me where I'm supposed to wash up?" He nodded and led me out into the hall. At the far end of the hallway, a door opened into a huge bathroom, probably designed for communual use when the lodge had been up and running. I hoped it had been cleaned since then.

I peeked in. The floor seemed clean, and the tub, an old freestanding one, was free of mold and grunge. The shower stall was obviously one of those throw-together-in-a-weekend kinds, and the toilet had a cracked tank lid, but other than that it seemed okay.

I slid past Caelan into the bathroom. "Thanks." He raised an eyebrow. "Call if you need assistance." Then he turned and left.

I closed the door. Assistance? He wished. It might take me a little longer than normal, but I'd figure it out. I found clean towels, a washcloth and a bar of soap under the sink vanity. See? No problem. Then I stripped off my clothes carefully, ran the water in the tub–the shower would definitely have gotten my bandages wet–climbed in and found my first problem. I couldn't bend at the waist to reach most of me. Every time I tried, the dull pang in my chest sharpened until it took my 130

Stacey Klemstein

breath away. So I did the best I could, but anything below my midthigh would have to get clean just by being in the warm soapy water.

I wrang out the cloth and wiped down under my arms, my chest and neck, trying to keep the water rivulets from reaching the bandages. It wasn't anywhere as good as really being able to scrub up, but it helped. Then I reached for my hair to remove the rubber band from the tangled, sweaty rat's nest of a mess and found my second problem. I could barely lift my arms above my head long enough to even pick at the knots of hair that had wound themselves around the rubber band. Plus, I had no idea how I was going to soak my hair. I couldn't bend forward, so the sink was out, and I couldn't bend back, so the tub wasn't an option either. I sat there for a long moment, tears beginning to prickle in my eyes. After all I'd been through, it seemed ridiculous to cry at this, but I couldn't help it.