Microsoft Word - sk-ss-pdf.doc

by Owner

  Before I could turn away, my gag reflex caught me. I retched, and pain burned through my chest, sending little spots of white light dancing in front of my eyes. What had I gotten myself into? I wondered, just before my stomach muscles contracted again, and the agony spun me into darkness.

  116

  Stacey Klemstein

  Chapter 11

  Hands moved beneath me. Voices whispered. The cool touch of air on my bare skin. The dull heated throbbing of my chest and the bitter taste in my mouth. I became aware of all these little things, each of them pulling me closer to the surface of consciousness.

  I opened my eyes, squinting in the bright light, to see a silverhaired female bending over me, blocking out everything else of my surroundings. Just like my dream. Panic immediately swallowed me whole, and my breath caught in my throat. I pushed away from her, my arms and legs making ineffective scrambling motions on the soft surface beneath me.

  "Zara, stop, stop." Caelan's voice in my ear. Warm hands on my shoulders. My bare shoulders. I looked down to find my shirt and bra gone, and white tape bound around my chest, starting from just below my breasts to about two inches above my bellybutton. Heat flared in my face, and I immediately searched for something to cover myself with. The bed was devoid of covers, just an empty striped mattress beneath me. And I couldn't look around too far, or else I'd end up meeting Caelan's eyes, something I refused to do in my current state of undress. A moment later, he reached around and pressed a bundle of cloth into my hands. My shirt. I wrapped it around myself, holding in place under my arms.

  "You are safe." Caelan now sat on the opposite side of the bed where he'd moved to keep me from getting away. Namere spoke to Caelan, in an odd rolling tongue that sounded familiar, sort of like Latin from all those years ago in Mass.

  He responded to her in the same language, then turned back to me. "Namere offered her help with your injury. She has done 117

  The Silver Spoon

  extensive study on the human body and the healing methods required for it, so different from our own. She believes the bones are cracked, but in no danger of harming you further." I stared up at Namere, who was still watching me with great intensity. With the front of her tunic still stained with blood and the roll of white bandage tape in her hands, she looked like some kind of mad alien scientist. "Great. But if she tries to use me for spare parts, I'm out of here," I muttered. Immediately, the mood shifted. Namere backed away from the bed, her gaze dropping to the floor. Then she spoke again in that language I couldn't quite recognize. I certainly hoped she didn't expect me to respond it.

  But instead, Caelan answered again, speaking that tongue as easily as he spoke English. I watched the two of them, wide-eyed. Namere bobbed her head in response to whatever Caelan had said and lifted her eyes to mine again. "If you require further assistance, human, I await your word."

  And with that she backed out of the room–we were in one of the guest rooms upstairs, it seemed–and closed the door behind her.

  "Okay, what is her deal?" I asked, once I was pretty sure she couldn't hear me anymore.

  "She risks much, coming to you and helping this way. To her, there is a strong possibility Asha may regain control and then she will be punished severely for aiding you."

  "So why–" I started to ask.

  "Because she believes now."

  I turned to face him, shaking my head. "Look, you don't understand."

  "But you must be careful," he said with gentle admonishment.

  "She has not spent time among your kind as I have. She believed your words to indicate distrust."

  "Duh."

  118

  Stacey Klemstein

  Caelan sighed, a sound of impatience. "True, but you do not wish her to be abandoned, forced to live away from the rest of us, do you?"

  I remembered the way she'd looked down when she thought I was dismissing her. And the tape job around my ribs actually seemed to be doing the trick. No, I wasn't ready to get up and do the limbo or anything, but I could sit here and breathe without inordinate amounts of pain. "No, I don't want her dumped," I muttered, fidgeting a little.

  "Then you must be careful of what you say." His words stung a bit. I hadn't signed up for any of this, and he was giving me lectures about it. "As leader–"

  "Yeah, let's talk about that for a minute." I turned away from him and yanked my shirt over my head, wincing when I had to reach up to shove my left arm into the sleeve. Tape or no, bones were still broken. But I felt less vulnerable with my breasts covered. I'd feel a lot less vulnerable if I were hidden from view entirely, but that didn't seem to be an option or I'd have gone for it a long time ago.

  I slid off the bed and turned to face him. "What are you trying to pull?" It wasn't exactly the most diplomatic wording, but my feelings none the less. "I came here for answers and to get Nevan off my back, not to help you overthrow your dictator."

  "Positioning you as leader was not my intention," he said. I stared at him for a second. "Yeah, but you knew Asha would never go for this plan. You knew because she told you no from the start."

  "I'd hoped she would be convinced after a demonstration of your unique telepathic abilities." His eyes dropped to mine. "I did not know you were capable of ...the other. I would have warned you, truly."

  My anger softened a little, and I did my best to bolster it. "I believe you," I said. "Because if you'd known, I'm sure you would 119

  The Silver Spoon

  have used it as part of your little dog and pony show." He arched an eyebrow.

  "It means a big, elaborate display of something," I said with a sigh.

  "I understand from your thoughts, if not your words."

  "Yeah, I know."

  "But you are correct. Had I known this aspect of your gift, I would have used it to prove my beliefs." I started to throw my hands up in exasperation, then stopped before the twinge in my side turned into full-fledged pain again. Silence held between us for several long seconds. Then he said, "I understand that you are angry–"

  "You think?"

  "But you must consider the true source of your feeling." He tilted his head to one side, giving me that look that seemed to see right into the darkest corners of my mind.

  "Oh, I think that's pretty clear. I'm mad at you," I said.

  "Yes, but why?"

  "Because you've lied to me, tricked me, nearly let me get killed, and you used me. That good enough for you?"

  "I would argue some of those points, but I fear that it will do neither of us good."

  "Very true."

  "So instead, I ask you to consider this." He walked around the edge of the bed to stand in front of me. "You are frightened because I bring the truth about you. And you do not wish to hear it. Fear makes you angry, Zara, not me."

  "Bullshit," I said, but my voice half-caught in my throat. I wasn't afraid of the truth. I was afraid Caelan was telling it.

  "You should rest," he said. "Namere placed blankets and pillows here." He pointed to the old wingback chair in the corner of the room. I hadn't even noticed it there. "In the morning, I will take you to see the answers I have..." he paused, then added, 120

  Stacey Klemstein

  "whether they comfort you or not." He started for the door. Another direct hit. Hurt and anger flared within me, and I opened my mouth before I could stop myself. "Tell me, do you always try to sleep with whoever's going to be in charge? You know, try to get in good with the management?" It was unfair, especially considering he'd tried to explain about Asha and himself earlier, and I'd cut him off. But I was sick and tired of being the only one tread upon.

  He paused at the door, turning back to face me. "When you are interested in learning about my past, what there is of it, I will share it with you, as I have offered before. But for now, in answer to your question, no." He hesitated, then met my eyes, his own so somber and mostly dark with the light not reaching where he stood. "Though perhaps that might have been wiser criteria."

  "I'm n
ot what you think I am, who you want me to be," I shouted at him.

  He stayed quiet for a moment then said, "You are the one who believes you are something other than what you are. But still, reality remains." Then he turned and walked out, closing the door behind him before I could argue.

  I sat back down on the edge of the bed, all the fight gone out of me. Caelan was wrong. He had to be. This...this mess wasn't my life, wasn't part of me. It was just something I'd gotten sucked into. Wasn't it?

  I got up and dragged the covers over to the bed and made a half-hearted attempt to straighten them into place. Not like I was going to sleep much tonight anyway. And I couldn't even count all the reasons why.

  121

  The Silver Spoon

  Chapter 12

  Blue and black shadows cloaked the room around me, like a bruise forming and spreading. Panic rose in my chest. A face, female and framed by long silvery white hair, loomed above me. Faint light from somewhere behind illuminated her features. Her hands closed on my shoulder and the top of my head, forcing me down into a bottomless darkness. And just before the shadows closed over my head, the light caught her face as she looked down at me. Her mouth didn't move, but I heard the words just the same. They had a rolling, almost singsong rhythm, pleasant just to listen to even without understanding. Except that I knew I should have understood. It all sounded so familiar. But then the blackness closed in over me, and the air went stale. I couldn't worry about anything more than breathing.

  I woke up as I usually did, a scream in my throat and gasping for air. But this time, at least, I was still in bed. I reached for my inhaler in my jeans pocket, only to find it gone. I had a vague memory of taking it out and putting it on the bedside table, so I wouldn't roll over and break it. But based on how cold my nose felt, I couldn't bear the idea of reaching an arm out from under the covers. So, I pulled the covers over myself more securely and began counting between breaths, hoping to slow myself down enough to doze off again.

  But as usual, my dream replayed itself in splendid detail on the back of my eyelids. Like a message threatening that this is what would happen if I dared to fall asleep again. I held on stubbornly, refusing to open my eyes until I had to sit up, gasping. I reached from my warm nest of blankets, fumbling across the top of the bedside table for my inhaler. I finally found it, along with what felt like the roll of bandage tape Namere had used, a cell 122

  Stacey Klemstein

  phone, a glass of something, water probably, and a bottle of pills. Aspirin? I couldn't see the label clearly in the dim early morning light. The phone, pills and glass hadn't been there when I went to sleep. I reached for the inhaler and pulled it with me under the covers, shivering not only with the cold but at the idea of someone being so close while I slept unaware. It had been a thoughtful thing to do, but still. I shuddered, picturing Namere standing over me, those silver eyes trained on me while I lay there, completely and utterly vulnerable.

  My mind snapped back to my nightmare then, recalling the mystery female looming over me and the odd language she'd used. As the dream replayed in my mind, I listened to the words and their rhythm again, only this time the little hairs on the back of my neck rose in a chill that had nothing to do with the cold. I'd heard the words and the language before, of course, in my dreams. But this time, I knew I'd heard it somewhere else, somewhere more tangible than that bizarre, dream-reality that had haunted me for so long. I'd heard it right here in this room, last night.

  Caelan and Namere. They'd stood here in front of me and used it without hesitation.

  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 agai
n 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.