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"I have sensed humans dreaming before. We can detect that just as we do thoughts. It is an intensely suggestible state of mind. A song or noise or smell can send the dream in a new direction without the will of the dreamer."
"Okay and?"
"Your dream, as you call it, is not like this. Your state is not suggestible at all. In fact, when your mind is seized by this dream you are caught in almost rigid control, you cannot change anything in your dream. It is more similar to memory recall than a dream." He gave me a significant look.
"You're saying this actually happened to me? Being trapped in a box by a female Observer and nearly suffocating to death." I stared at him in disbelief.
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"Yes."
"No way." I shook my head.
"You keep living that moment again and again in your mind. It is quite common among your kind, but it is referred to as–"
"Post traumatic stress," I interrupted. "Yeah, I know they tested me for that."
"And?" he asked.
I clenched my teeth in irritation. "I wasn't ever around any freaking Observers when I was that little. You guys didn't even get here until a couple years ago, when I was twenty-four, not five."
"Perhaps," was all he said.
A chill scurried down my arms from the back of my neck, raising goosebumps all the way. I risked looking away from the road for a second. "You know something, don't you? Something that makes you think your...theory is possible."
"I don't have any proof that would satisfy your doubts," he said.
"I don't care, tell me anyway."
"I would rather show you and let you draw your own conclusions," he said.
"You mean whatever proof you have is wherever we're going?" The idea excited me and twisted my stomach with fear.
"It is. I will share with you all I know, as I have promised," he said. Then he pointed out the window suddenly. "Turn here."
"Where?" I didn't even see a break in the trees where he indicated.
"Right here," he said again with a quick look back at me that made me wonder if he was going to grab the wheel. I slowed down and turned to the right, approaching the tree line cautiously, our headlights bouncing as we bumped up and down over the uneven ground. When we were a few feet from the start of the forest, only then could I see a clearing just wide enough for one car to pass through. Calling it a road would have 86
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been much too generous–branches scraped and squealed against both sides of the car.
"So, uh, do these friends of yours know we're coming?"
"No," he said.
"Are they going to be mad?"
"Possibly."
"Great. Could you please give me a little more information on what to expect?" I demanded.
He remained silent for a moment, then said, "When I wanted to find you, Asha, our leader, the strongest of us, warned me that if I left I was not to return."
"Why?"
"She and the others did not believe in the prophecy. They did not believe that a human could lead them to victory against Nevan," he said.
Couldn't say I disagreed with them. "Where did you hear about this prophecy anyway?" I asked.
"I awoke with it."
I took my eyes from the road to stare at him for a second, my heart sinking. "You made it up?"
"No." He shook his head immediately. "It was with me when I awoke, images of you and the final confrontation with Nevan." He turned to look at me, intensity glowing in his eyes. "I have known you always, even when I knew of nothing else." I would have liked to have doubted him further, but that would leave coincidence playing much too large of a role in my being here with him. "So where did it come from then?" I asked. He lifted a shoulder. "I don't know."
"None of the others had the same images in their heads," I guessed. "So they didn't believe."
He shook his head.
"But you left anyway," I prompted.
"I couldn't keep myself from it."
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I shifted my attention back to our so-called road. "So if they're mad, what do we do?"
"Try to stay out of the way."
"That's very reassuring," I muttered. "Why–"
"Because we need their help against Nevan," he answered my question before I could finish.
After that I decided to keep quiet. No sense in learning too much about impending doom. A few long minutes later, he pointed at something in the distance reflecting my headlights. As we got closer, I realized it was a metal gate, one of those low-tothe ground kind, like they have in parks. Or cemeteries. That was a cheerful thought.
I started to slow down.
"No," he said. "Keep going."
"We're going to ram the gate. I don't think–"
"Just keep going. I will say when to stop," he said. But the anxiety in his voice kept him from sounding too much like a dictator.
I didn't like it, but I kept going, not sure what he had in mind. Seconds before our bumper would have hit the gate, I slammed on the brakes. At the same time, he said, "Stop." I struggled to control the fishtail effect, but eventually, the car stopped, probably a hairsbreadth from the gate. I pulled out my inhaler from my pocket, watching Caelan out of the corner of my eye. When he'd finally said stop, he'd slumped back in his seat, looking for all the world like something hadn't happened as it should have, like we'd failed a test of some kind.
"What's wrong?" I asked, once the Albuterol had worked its magic on my tightening lungs.
He continued staring out the window at the gate until I caught motion out of the corner of my eye. I looked away from Caelan to the gate until I saw the metal arms slowly folding back against themselves. "Nice," I muttered. "You can do that?" 88
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"It is one of my lesser gifts. Others are far stronger at it," he said. "You may keep going now." He gestured ahead. I pulled forward. We were on some kind of vague road now. The snow had drifted off to one side enough for me to be able to see gravel in some places. But other than that there were no signs of life, human or Observer up here. No tire tracks besides our own.
"What exactly are we looking for?"
"There." He pointed to something in the distance. If I squinted, I could see a more solid shape through the trees. I honestly hadn't been sure what to expect of their hideout, a cave, a spaceship, a little shack hidden in the woods. But as we pulled into an area cleared of trees, I can say I hadn't expected this: A sprawling, two-story hunting lodge, complete with a parking lot big enough for ten cars. The bottom half of the building was stone and the upper half was weathered wooden paneling, stained brownish red. A sign hung over the front door, like one of those English pub signs, but the wording had faded so that I couldn't read it.
I pulled into what I hoped might be a parking spot. "Expect company up here much?"
Caelan, already climbing out of the car, did not answer. I sucked a quick breath from my inhaler, then threw open the door and hurried to catch up with him. But the closer I got to the building, the more dread settled in my stomach. The windows were all shut and closed tight, the snow all around the building undisturbed. If someone was in there, they hadn't come out in awhile.
"Caelan, are you sure..." I started to ask, but then I stopped to watch him.
He held his hand in front of the solid wooden door, just above the handle. Then I heard the sound of locks snapping back, deadbolts pulling free from the door. Was somebody really in there?
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As soon as the door was unlocked, Caelan yanked it open and hurried inside. I followed him cautiously.
My eyes needed a little time to adjust to the sudden dimness after the brightness of the snow outside, but once they did, I knew almost instantly that I'd been right. No one was home here, and judging by the dust on the check-in counter to my left, no one had been for some time. Caelan must have unlocked the door himself from the
outside, just like he'd opened the gate. Moving objects by thought was another power they were rumored to have, but not one I'd seen personally until now. Unless that was how Nevan had slammed me into the wall. Huh. I was learning scary new things all the time now.
My train of thought was interrupted by Caelan stalking past where I stood, clearly searching for someone or something. I started forward tentatively. Straight ahead of me were stairs leading up, to guest rooms most likely, to my right, a room with overstuffed couches and a huge fireplace. To the left of the stairs, past the check-in counter, a narrow hallway, down which Caelan had disappeared.
I followed him down the hallway, which eventually widened out into a large, long room. Down the center of it, a huge wooden trestle table with benches, and at the opposite end of the room, toward my left, a kitchen.
I didn't see him in the dining area, unless he was hiding under the table, so I headed into the kitchen.
Caelan stood in the center of the room, staring down at something resting on the big butcher's block island in front of him. I hurried forward. "Are you all right?" When he didn't answer, my eyes dropped to the surface of the butcher's block to see what he was staring at. No note, no threatening weapon, or anything like that. Just a simple spoon, centered on the island. A silver spoon.
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my diner, sure, but I couldn't figure out how that could be connected to any of this.
"Caelan, what's going on?" My voice sounded a little shakier than it should have. "Where is everyone?" He didn't answer me at first, still staring down at that spoon. Then he raised his eyes, cold and distant, to meet mine. Little patches of red and white colored his normally dark face. "I don't know where they are," he said. Then he half-walked, halfstumbled away. I followed him out of the kitchen and down the hall to find him in the lounge area, trying to place wood into the fireplace.
"Did Nevan find them?" I asked. Obviously, Caelan intended that we were going to stay here for a least a little while. But that wouldn't be safe if Nevan had...
"If Nevan had found them here and tried to take them, this building would be no longer standing. They would fight to the end against him, giving their lives before giving in to his will." He snapped a branch with a loud crack and tried to set it into place, but his fingers didn't seem to have the necessary dexterity. The branch kept slipping from them and rolling away. "They left this place of their own accord."
When he didn't elaborate, I stepped farther into the room and knelt beside him. When he continued to ignore me, I caught his hand in both of my own, though his fingers extended well beyond my palm. His whole hand was freezing. It was cold in here, probably just barely sixty, enough to keep the pipes from freezing. But it was so much warmer in here than it had been outside that I hadn't really noticed at first. Without thinking, I rubbed my hands over his to warm it.
A shudder racked his entire body, nearly pulling his hand from mine. I looked up to find him watching me, the color in his face alarmingly pallid. "What can I do to help?" I asked.
"Matches," he said from lips turning bluer by the second. I let 91
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go of his hand and stood up to search the rough-hewn mantel above us. Nothing there, other than a variety of stuffed dead animals on stands and plaques affixed to the wall. I dropped back to the floor again, and finally located a tall tube of fireplace matches that had been knocked over behind the pile of wood. I struck one of the matches and held it to the wood. It took several seconds before it caught, and then it started to grow, but only ever so slowly. Caelan was going to freeze to death, and I was going to be mighty cold before this fire got going enough to warm anyone.
"Stay here," I said. He was now huddled on the floor as close as possible to the tiny fire.
I left the lounge and headed up the stairs. I really hoped we were the only ones in here because I was going rummaging. At the top of the stairs, a hallway split right and left with doors hanging open along both sides. They were all guest rooms, as I'd guessed, but the beds were empty of covers. Finally, at the end of the hallway on the left side, I found a huge closet with linens packed tightly on every shelf. I grabbed an armload of sheets and blankets and dragged them down the stairs with me, trying not to trip and fall.
In the lounge, the fire had crept a bit higher, but Caelan now lay curled in a ball in front of it.
"Come on, sit up." I grabbed at his hand, flinching at the cool feel of his skin. I managed to get him sitting up long enough to wrap a couple blankets around him, before he curled up on his side again.
I was now sweating from the exertion of running up and down the stairs and trying to pull him up. If I could get him moving again...but no. I'd had trouble even getting him up from the floor into a sitting position.
I stepped back and sat on the dusty couch for a moment to catch my breath. The blankets around Caelan twitched every few 92
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seconds as his body shuddered from the cold. Now, we'd just have to wait until his body temperature caught up. I'd done all I could do for him. But as soon as I thought that, I knew it wasn't true. I'd seen the movies and read the books where when someone has hypothermia, you're supposed to strip all their clothes off and lay naked with them. Was there a more clichéd way to hook two people up? I don't think so. And sorry, but Caelan and I would both be dead from cold before I'd do that. But I could go sit next to him, lend him whatever body heat he could get from that position. I didn't think he was in danger of dying, at least not now, but it didn't seem right to sit here and watch him suffer, not when I might be able to help.
I pulled myself up off the couch and settled next to him on the floor. His eyes opened a crack, silver reflecting the dancing red and yellow flames, before closing again.
"Hey, you're not supposed to go to sleep," I said. At least that was how it worked for humans. "Talk to me." He mumbled something that I couldn't hear. I leaned closer and this time I heard him say, "About what?" I made a face that he probably couldn't see. There were tons of things I wanted to ask him, but none of which I wanted to hear his answers from the depths of a cold-induced delirium. "Okay, uh, tell me about your friends. The ones that used to live here." At first I thought he wouldn't answer, a sore subject maybe. But then just as I started to formulate another question, he spoke.
"There are three. Asha, Thane, and Namere." Okay, this was the tough part with their names. "Are they men, women? I mean, male or female?" They didn't use the terms men and women.
"Asha and Namere are female. Thane is male." I kicked my shoes off and stretched my feet out toward the fire. Four of them together, then. Most of the research teams I'd read about and seen on TV were made up of four members, just 93
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like this group, two male and two female.
An idea clicked in my brain. "Are you one of Nevan's research teams?" The Council members were in charge of the research mission as a whole but it was believed that each Council member headed up multiple individual teams of researchers. He didn't answer for a moment, and I thought he might have fallen asleep. Then he said, "It would seem that way, yes."
"What does that mean?"
"We have no memory of life before waking up here, so we have no memory of being assigned to him. And we are different than the others we have encountered, so it is difficult to know what our role was to have been."
"Different how?" I asked, surprised.
"Their behavior is controlled, not their own–"
"What?" I frowned at him even though he couldn't see me. He sighed. "You will have to see to understand." I shoved back irritation building in me. I hated this. I didn't understand anything, and he couldn't explain it. Apparently, he thought I was too stupid for words.
His blankets shifted, and I looked over to see Caelan rolled over and facing me. "It is not your intelligence, but your need to rationalize everything into answers that make sens
e. I don't have the answers for you, and you grow only more frustrated when I can only tell you what I know."
"Look, just forget it, okay?" I said, disgusted with him and myself. He was right to an extent, but I couldn't help that. It was one of my major drives to make sense of the world around me, especially when everything seemed so crazy and mixed up. That was one of the reasons I'd spent years collecting all that information about the Observers. To know them well enough meant that maybe I didn't have to be afraid any more.
"But you cannot always mold the truth into something more easily managed," he said quietly.
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He seemed to be feeling better so I scooted a little farther away from him, still staying close to the fire.
"So are you going to tell me what happened here that's got you so upset?" I poked another stick into the fire.
"When I left to find you, Asha warned me that if I ever tried to return, they would not be here."
"Why?"
"They could not risk Nevan following me and finding them." He paused, then continued. "You must understand that they too want to be free of Nevan and free of fearing him, but Asha, our leader, made a decision that we could not risk all of our lives to go against him. That instead we would remain in hiding until the research years are finished and then we would remain here on Earth after the others left."
I shivered, thinking of what might have happened to me if Caelan had abided by that decision. "But?" I prompted. He sighed, watching me with those serious brown and silver eyes. "But I have seen things that indicate all is not as it has been said to be, and that the research years might not end as expected." A big chill that had nothing to do with cold ran through me.
"You think they're here to stay."
He shrugged, one shoulder appearing out of the cocoon of blankets. "It is difficult to say what their intentions are, only that I know they have lied before to the humans."
"About what?"
"I will show you tomorrow before we leave." I frowned. "Where are we going?"