Fehin could barely eat, his ears attuned to the conversation going on between the two girls. He knew now that the red-haired girl was Airy and that her major was English. They probably wouldn’t have any classes together. This was the first time in his life he’d had nervous tremors in his stomach at the mere idea of approaching her. Of course how many girls his own age had he met? The answer to that was exactly none. He finally gave up the eating idea, threw his food in the garbage can and then left the union. He had to pick up his books before four o’clock.
Living according to a schedule was an alien concept, he thought, taking his phone out of his pocket to check the time. In his world things were done according to when the sun rose and when it set. Meals came regularly but weren’t set in stone like they were here.
He looked down at the rectangle in his hand. Apparently this little device did just about everything, from e-mail, something Gunnar had explained in great detail, to keeping time, to taking pictures, or photos, as they were called. He could also record things on it and dictate ideas that might come to him when he was away from his computer. He could also use it to look things up on the Internet. There was even an alarm to wake him in the morning as well as apps he could download, whatever that meant, and games and other things he could buy; tiny pictures of them came up whenever he opened his phone. But if he didn’t charge it up every night it would go dead and be useless to him. So many things to remember.
Airy stayed in his mind on the short walk to the bookstore. He knew nothing about her—they hadn’t even exchanged words. Was this what it was like to be around girls his own age? If so he was going to have a tough time of it. The feeling in his stomach was back, a pulling sensation that must be nerves.
He could barely carry the pile of tomes to the checkout desk. After paying with his credit card he stuffed them into his backpack and then heaved it onto his back. Good thing he didn’t have far to go. The credit card thing had been easier than he thought; all he had to do was remember to pay his bill every month. Gunnar had shown him a way to set up automatic billing but it was too complicated for his mind to grasp.
On his walk back to the dorm he saw her again. He tried to ignore the weird feeling in his stomach, the uneven beat of his heart. As he moved into the stairwell he realized that she lived in the same dorm as he did—on the girl’s floor just above his. He listened to her lilting chatter as she and the other girl moved up the stairs and then he heard the sound of the door closing and she was gone.
When he entered his room Brent was bent over his computer looking at pictures of naked women. In Fehin’s world people often went without clothes. Was it a novelty here? He opened his own computer and pressed the button to turn it on. He had to be up to speed on this thing soon or he’d drop behind. This piece of metal was his lifeline with its program for writing papers and endless supply of information. It was like the libraries he’d heard about from his mother. The school had a large library of its own and he planned to spend a lot of time there. According to Gunnar there was only so much you could research online.
In the e-mail program Gunnar had set up he found one from the druid. Read the book and good luck was all it said. When he tried to send one back he got a message saying it was undeliverable. His gaze was drawn to the window and when he looked out he saw the girl again. She was standing beneath a large oak tree on the far side of the courtyard with her arms outstretched. Butterflies circled around her head and it looked like she was talking to the tree.
10
Airy stared out the window of the classroom, her chin in her hand. A breeze had come up and some of the leaves were drifting to the ground while others circled in whirlwinds of color before floating away. It was fall and they weren’t making food anymore, the chlorophyll breaking down and revealing the brilliant gold and oranges and reds that had been obscured by the green pigment. MacCuill had explained all this years ago.
The trees here were slower to respond when she spoke to them but she had managed to converse with a few—mostly the older ones with thick trunks and wisdom in their branches. Something was going on with the butterflies and the bees. They’d been agitated when they came around. So far she hadn’t had time to find out why.
“And what do you think, Airmid?”
Airy turned to see the professor staring at her from behind horn rimmed glasses. “I…what was the question?”
“The question is why aren’t you paying attention? You’ll need to know this on the test.”
There was a titter of laughter around the room and then heat rose into her cheeks.
“We were discussing Chaucer and his influences on later writing. I suggest you keep your focus on what’s going on inside the room rather than out.”
Once class was over Airy gathered her books together and left the room. The other students scattered in small groups leaving her to walk down the long hallway alone. Classes had begun two weeks before and it was becoming harder and harder to concentrate. She hoped fervently that she wouldn’t flunk out. MacCuill’s lessons had never been this boring.
Outside she headed to her new friend—an enormous oak with wide branches that spread like a canopy. She wanted to climb up but knew this would attract attention. Better to enjoy the tree from the ground. The leaves had turned scarlet and many lay under her feet, crunching as she drew close. “Why can’t I pay attention?” she whispered, looking up.
There was a rumble that Airy felt inside her body, an indication of an answer, but before it reached her someone behind her said, “What are you doing?”
Airy turned to see the boy with the raven-colored hair standing behind her. The question was innocent enough but a flush crept up her neck. “I was asking the tree a question.”
“The trees speak to you?”
Airy frowned. “Of course. Don’t they speak to you?”
“Uh, um…I’d have to say no, but then again I haven’t really tried.”
“I thought everyone could talk to trees. Maybe if you find the place in you that’s like them. There’s no separation between us and them.”
“Really?”
When Airy’s eyes met his she was unable to breathe, much less speak. She swallowed and looked away. “Think of a spider-web, that’s what everything is, including us.”
“The web of life, I get it.”
“I don’t think you really do. Nothing is separate, including humans. If you can’t talk to trees then something is off inside you.”
The boy shook his head and then looked around as though checking for other people close by. “I wouldn’t mention this to others if I were you. My name’s Fehin, by the way.”
“Airy.”
“I know.”
Airy stared at him quizzically. “How do you know?”
Fehin looked away for a moment. “I eavesdropped,” he finally said with a sheepish grin.
“Oh, in the cafeteria.”
He nodded and then moved closer. “You live on the floor above me.”
Airy didn’t know what to say to this. She was tongue-tied again and had a very strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. “I…I have to get to my history class.”
“World history?”
She nodded.
“I’m in that class. We can walk together if you like. Can’t believe I haven’t noticed you before.”
“I may have skipped it a few times,” Airy admitted, blushing.
As they headed into the building together Airy stole a glance at his profile. He had a straight nose, high cheekbones and a chin that was neither too small nor too large. Long eyelashes rimmed his dark eyes. He seemed like someone she would like to know but he also made her nervous for some reason.
She looked down watching the ants moving single file across the walkway. When she took a long step and then jumped sideways, Fehin looked over at her. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to keep from stepping on the ants.”
Fehin looked down. “I didn’t even notice them.”
�
�They have a right to their lives. They work really hard.” When she glanced at Fehin, he was watching her with an intent look.
“Where do you come from?” he asked just before they entered the building.
Airy waved her hand around vaguely. “Oh, I lived in Europe for a while. My paternal grandparents live in Halston--not too far from here.” Her answer seemed to satisfy him. At the entrance to the classroom he stopped to let her go ahead. Once she found a seat he found one next to her, settling in and placing his backpack on the floor beside him. She snuck another look at him, noticing the new-looking jeans and plaid shirt, the way he pushed his dark hair back before reaching into his bag for paper and pencil.
This class was even harder for her to fathom, especially in close proximity to the boy. By the time the hour ended she had no idea what the professor had said or what their assignment was.
“What did you think?” he asked as they walked together down the steps toward the student union. It was lunchtime and both had a break until their next class.
“I…I was confused. I haven’t ever studied this kind of history and this seemed way too much to understand.”
“It should be easier since you’ve lived in Europe. My mother told me all about the different countries there.” He suddenly blushed. “I mean I knew about them, but I…”
“That’s okay. You’re way ahead of me. I may have lived there but I was too young to learn their history.”
Fehin laughed. “Looks like we’ll both be struggling. Maybe we can help each other.”
By now they’d reached the student union and Fehin led the way to a table. Airy met his gaze as they sat down. His unusual eye color was a mix of green and brown that reminded her of moss or a shaded forest pool. “I’d like that,” she managed to murmur, looking away.
“Your eyes are amazing,” he said.
She turned back, smiling. “I was thinking the same about yours.”
They bought their lunch, bringing it back to the table, but in the end neither one of them ate much of anything.
***
“That guy’s kind of a dork,” Storm said. “Not sure why you’d want to hang around him.”
Airy and Storm were in their dorm room and Airy had just finished explaining her day, including the lunch with Fehin. “What kind of an animal is a dork?”
Storm stared at her. “It’s not an animal, Airy. Dork refers to someone who’s out of the loop—completely uncool--like a geek or a nerd. He must cut his hair with nail scissors, and the way he dresses—who the hell wears plaid?”
“And you with your nose ring, spiked hair and ripped clothes feel you can judge him?”
Storm frowned. “Hey, that was uncalled for. At least I have a style. Look at you, Miss prim and proper with your knee socks and loafers.” She made a sound in the back of her throat. “Yeah, on second thought maybe you two are made for each other.”
Airy felt something boiling inside her. It was anger but also a feeling of protection. Maybe part of why she liked him was because he didn’t fit in. “He’s really nice, Storm. I don’t judge people by how they look; I judge them by how they behave. And I’m sorry if my appearance doesn’t please you. What exactly would you suggest?”
“Well, for one thing I’d cut that hair—there’s too much of it.” Storm stepped back to look her over. “You need some jewelry other than that ring—maybe some earrings. But you need to get your ears pierced to do that. And I’d get rid of the knee socks and cutesy little blouses and skirts and wear T-shirts. They’re just hipper, you know?”
“Actually, I don’t even know what that word means.”
Storm laughed. “I rest my case.”
Airy turned to look in the mirror. “Can you cut my hair?”
***
When Airy passed a group of girls on her way to class, one of them called out, “What are you, a witch?” The other girls looked fearful, moving off the walkway.
“What do you mean?” she asked, confused.
“What do you think I mean?” the girl answered pointing to the butterflies circling around Airy’s head, the bees that had landed on her hands and arms. A line of chirping tree frogs followed behind her.
Airy laughed. “They’ve been trying to tell me something but I’ve been too distracted to get their message. Can you understand them?”
The blonde girl gawked at her and then turned to her companions. “What did I tell you? She’s definitely a freak.” She rejoined her friends and then they all hurried away.
“I’m sorry, slow down,” she muttered as a butterfly landed on her nose. “You’re being poisoned? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? What can I do?”
11
Rain poured down, heavy storm clouds piling up, one on top of the other. Fehin wondered if this was a normal storm or had something to do with all the fear and anger the people carried. On Thule out-of-control emotions caused hurricanes. If it was the same here this place should be having torrential downpours and tornadoes on a daily basis.
He tried to respect what Gunnar had told him but he couldn’t stop the crowd of disturbing thoughts that assaulted him from nearly every person he passed. It was as though his filtering system didn’t work here. He felt like screaming half the time. He chuckled at the image of yelling nonstop to keep thoughts from coming into his mind and what might happen as a result. He’d probably be dragged off campus and stuck in prison or somewhere worse. He shook his head. There was no escaping it.
He had yet to get one of the devices that most listened to. He’d thought at first it was music but from what he overheard it sounded like cats being strangled. Sometimes he could hear a deep rhythmic boom in the background. Drums were ancient instruments, used in times of war to rally people. The steady sounds connected to man’s primal instincts. Was that why all the guys were teetering on the edge of self-restraint? He’d already seen two brawls begun over race differences that ended with no resolution. Nerves were like bows strung too tight. He decided he would have to borrow a disc from Brent to get the full gist of it. But the idea of even talking to the guy gave him a bad feeling. Brent reminded him of Wolf.
Fehin watched the sheet of silver pouring off the roof, his thoughts turning to Airy. He’d seen her in class this morning but hardly recognized her. She’d cut her hair, which now stood up in spiky tufts. Silver hoops hung from her ears, and her clothes—well, let’s just say they revealed a lot more than her others had, with low cut T-shirts and jeans that hugged her slender body. She’d also taken to wearing shoes with heels that made her wobble when she walked. And now her eyes were lined in the same way as her roommate.
He’d planned to talk with her after class but her appearance had scared him away. He couldn’t imagine what this girl and he had in common. But when he saw her again beneath the oak tree he changed his mind. He hurried across the courtyard. “Talking to trees again?” he asked, coming up beside her. The rain was lighter here, stopped by the wide boughs and leaves still clinging to the branches.
She started and then turned to face him, the green of her eyes even more dramatic with the dark lines she’d drawn around them. “They’re wise beings, Fehin. I asked about the poisons the butterflies and bees told me about. Pesticides are killing them. There aren’t many left. Why do people do this?” Her eyes filled with tears before she turned back to the tree.
“There’s a lot about this place I don’t get,” he said, responding to her question. “It’s so crowded everywhere and everyone’s so upset all the time. I don’t really know what pesticides are, but I can guess. We don’t use them where I come from. Did the tree have an answer?”
“They don’t answer in English, silly. I have to decipher the particular aromas they send out—chemical messages I guess you’d say. It doesn’t always work since they’re so old and what they want me to know doesn’t resonate because I’m another species. They didn’t respond at all about the poisons and my other question about failing my history class is not a concept they understand. Why di
d those girls call me a witch?” she asked suddenly, her eyes wide.
“What girls?” Fehin asked, looking around.
“They’re not here now. The butterflies were asking questions but I couldn’t decipher them. I know they want me to do something about it. The girls wouldn’t help.”
Fehin smiled. “You’re different from them. That’s why I said you should keep these things to yourself.”
“But why?”
The look on her face was so open. This girl was either crazy or like him. “Airy, you may be the only one who can do these things.”
She sighed and her shoulders drooped. “I was afraid of that. Now I really want to go home.”
“Where is home? And don’t tell me Europe because I know that isn’t true.”
“You won’t believe me.”
“Try me,” he said, moving closer and picking up the scent of her lemony perfume. At least she hadn’t changed that.
“My mother is a seer and I think I am too.”
“A seer. You mean you can look into the future?”
“Something like that.”
“Where did you get that ring?”
Airy looked down at her hand. “It’s a moonstone that belonged to my grandmother. It was magical way back when.”
“Magical? In what way?” Fehin asked, bending to examine it. The stone was oval and smooth, the surface opaque, but when he touched it, it gave off a little spark and began to glow.
Airy seemed unconcerned as she waved her hand around. “Back when my Nana first had it, it showed her how to get to the Caer Sidi. She gave it to my mother and now I have it. It’s a family heirloom.”
Fehin frowned. “The Care City?”
“It’s a place.” When she noticed the expression on his face she looked stricken. “I shouldn’t have told you. I’m not supposed to share any of this.”
“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone as long as you don’t share what I’m about to show you.” The rain had finally stopped, and the clouds were drifting away. The air had turned cool and breezy. Fehin grabbed her arm. “It might help with the history test. Is that the class you’re worried about?”
Bridge of Mist and Fog Page 5
