❦
The educator stopped me after the lesson, as I attempted to retreat into the throng of my peers. “Miranda,” he said, “if you’re having trouble with your menses, you should see the Healers. It’s a treatable ailment.”
I thanked the educator, but inside I derisively wondered—not for the first time—how anyone could decide to treat one ailment but not another, and still call themselves “healers” without a trace of irony.
To my surprise, Ari was waiting for me outside the eduction center. “It’s dangerous to walk alone,” he explained, “after last night.”
I froze momentarily before realizing Ari meant the supposedly real dragon that had been spotted, not the one from my vision. I gave him a tight smile and we set off. Ari didn’t talk much, apart from asking if I felt better, to which I nodded noncommittally. My head buzzed with the questions I would have to ask my father when he got home from his labor.
I stopped short when I came through the front door of our home and realized I was not alone. My mother sat placidly at the table next to the cooking hearth.
Bewildered, I asked, “What are you doing here?”
She smiled, her mouth a tight line. “I was waiting for you. I’ve found someone that I think can help with your fits.”
My heart stopped. “What?”
“An acquaintance of your father. He… owes him a debt, of sorts. We can trust him.”
“Does Father know?” I managed at last.
“No. And it’s very important that he not find out. He wouldn’t approve of this method of helping you, Miranda, but I feel we have no other choice.”
I thought about what had happened during education today and couldn’t help but agree. I couldn’t afford to wait for another solution. I knew my father feared the Watch, but at this point the Watch was undoubtedly going to find out about me—probably sooner than later.
I felt uneasy as my mother led me through the streets to an unfamiliar part of town. I was certain someone would notice something amiss, realize that I was trying to keep something unauthorized a secret, but no one paid us any mind.
Finally, we arrived at a nondescript gray building, no different from the row of buildings on either side of it. My mother knocked, and a broad man, olive-skinned like me and with dark hair peppered gray, answered the door. He was taller and wider than any other person I’d seen, but seemed otherwise ordinary, with his close-shorn hair and plain linen clothing.
The man led us down a short hallway into a room with a private door. As he moved, a high-pitched noise seemed to echo his motions. Step, beep. Step, beep. I could feel the right side of my face twitching involuntarily at the repetitive sound. What was that?
A stone-topped counter ran along one wall of the enclosed room, its surface covered with glass bottles and implements that I could only guess the purpose of. I sat beside my mother on a rough wooden bench while the man shut and bolted the door behind us. In this small space, the beeping of his movements seemed to grow louder, reverberating around the room. I flinched, my right hand flying up to my ear.
My mother put a hand on my shoulder. “Is something wrong, Miranda?”
I started to open my mouth to ask if she heard the sounds as well, but froze. The man was watching me intently. My mother claimed this man would help me, but how was I supposed to believe he could be trusted? Something about the intensity of his gaze made me uncomfortable. He looked like he wanted to make a meal of me.
I said, “No, nothing.”
She stared at me quizzically, but did not press the matter.
The man pulled up a stool and sat across from my mother and me. I braced myself for the mechanical shriek that seemed sure to accompany the scraping of the stool legs on the stone floor; but, just as suddenly as it had begun, the noise stopped. The ringing in my ears slowly faded.
The three of us sat in silence.
Awkwardly, I said at last, “Um, hello. My name is Miranda.”
“Yes, Miranda,” the strange man said. “I am called Ban. I am an assistant at one of the Brotherhood’s healing centers.” His voice was deep and rich. For some reason, it reminded me a bit of my father’s. “I understand that you’ve been experiencing some… unusual symptoms recently. I’d like to help you.”
“Is that all right?” I asked hesitantly. “There won’t be a problem with the Watch, or anything?”
“Not so long as you do your part. There are secrets all over Gale, Miranda,” Ban said, “you just have to know how to keep them.”
His words sent a chill down my back, but I nodded. I’d become quite a master at secret-keeping, these past few weeks.
Ban asked me to describe my symptoms, which I did—omitting the part about the visions, as well as what had happened that day during education. I still did not entirely trust this strange man, despite his claims that he could help me.
Ban said nothing while I explained the fits, merely nodding and occasionally running a large brown thumb over his chin. Then, at last, he cleared his throat. “Yes, this would definitely not be considered a treatable ailment. It is too aberrant. However, I do have some ideas for things we could try, to see if we can alleviate some of the symptoms. I will have to retrieve the supplies from the healing center. And I will need time. If we are to keep this a secret, we will have to space our sessions carefully. People will notice if you come here every day.”
My heart sank. Of course I understood, but every day that passed was another chance I might get caught having a fit in public.
As if he’d read my mind, Ban stood and began to rummage through the bottles on the countertop. “In the meantime, I’ve made this for you.” He held out a small vial of amber liquid. “This is a muscle relaxant. Drink some if you feel a fit coming on. It will contain the spasms. It may make you sleepy, but you should be able to conceal that more easily than a fit. If anyone asks, tell them you have been prescribed that for menstrual pain.”
I nodded, clutching the bottle tightly to my chest as Ban escorted us back down the hallway and out the door.
Later, my mother and I sat at the table in the kitchen, the vial between us.
“Maybe you should take some of that tonight before bed,” she said. “To make sure it’s safe. I don’t want it to give you side effects if you have to take it in public.”
I said, “Mother, these fits… do they have something to do with Father?”
She wouldn’t meet my eyes; she fixed her stare on the milky amber liquid in the glass vial instead. “I don’t know.”
I sighed and lifted the bottle, shaking it and watching the layers of yellow swirl together. Something about it reminded me of the pastel clouds in Orbe’s sky. “I thought I knew everything there was to know about our family. I guess I was wrong. Father’s past is his own, but if he did something that’s causing these health problems for me, don’t you think I deserve to know the truth?”
Mother stood up and moved to the cooking hearth. The conversation was over. She poked the embers from this morning’s fire and tossed some fresh kindling on, and I sourly reached for my satchel, pulling out my book to start my reading for next day’s lesson.
I almost didn’t hear her whisper, “It’s not my truth to tell, Miranda.”
❦
After dinner, I surreptitiously took a spoonful of the amber medicine. Then I hid the vial in my satchel.
I spent most of the evening waiting for something to feel different. I wasn’t sure what to expect—would I start retching, or faint? Or would I start to miraculously feel better, healthier, different somehow? I wanted some sort of sign that would let me know for certain whether the medicine worked or failed.
But there was nothing.
I didn’t have a fit, either, though. Truthfully, I just felt normal. This, I supposed, was novel in and of itself, considering how strange I’d felt for the past few days. I read my assigned segment of the Litany, and my father and mother played a game of draughts by the fire until nightfall. I knew I needed to talk to my fath
er—there were so many questions I needed him to answer—but when it came down to it, I lost my nerve. Perhaps I wouldn’t need to, after all. If Ban could heal me, maybe I could forget about the whole thing.
By the time we went to bed and I’d felt no dizziness, no tingly skin or heart palpitations, I was beginning to wonder if Ban’s medicine might be all I needed to make the fits disappear. I drifted off to these elated thoughts and woke in a strange, green place.
It was after nightfall, but I felt calm. This dream world was not Gale, and there’d be no Watch on my heels here. It was like the place I’d seen in my vision—or had it been just a daydream?—that morning on the way to the education center. Tall plants surrounded me, their leafy tops brushing the heavens. They were different than the dry, scrubby wood-plants that grew in the desert of Gale. Alien. I pressed my hand against the trunk of one. Its skin was coarse under my palm.
I made my way between the plants, looking up at the night sky. The clouds were thin and silky, not the roiling storm clouds I was accustomed to; and there was nothing more than the slightest hint of a breeze. I realized, gazing upward, that the immense yellow globe of Orbe was nowhere to be seen. I breathed a sigh of relief—no dragons here, either. In Orbe’s place, a smaller sphere was just visible through a patch of misty clouds. It shone bluish-white, like a large star.
I walked only a short while before I came across a clear blue pond. A small creature sat on a giant leaf in the center of the water. It fixed its round eyes on me and croaked. I smiled in wonderment, moving closer to get a better look.
“What are you doing here?”
It took all my effort not to scream. The creature, on the other hand, leaped off its leafy perch in a panic and dove into the water.
The girl called Ferda was standing behind me, holding an odd lantern that glowed with no flame. How could she be?! I hadn’t even had a fit tonight! Had the medicine suppressed my physical symptoms, but not taken away the visions? How was that possible?
“Hang on, there’s no need for violence!” she squeaked as the light ran over my form. I’d picked up a heavy limb from one of the tall plants and was brandishing it at her.
“So you say,” I growled. “But you’re the one who keeps turning up in my mind, uninvited. What do you want from me, anyway? Why can’t you just leave me in peace?”
“Wait, please, Miranda,” Ferda protested. She set the lantern down and held up her hands in supplication. “You’ve got it all wrong. Please, let me explain. Can’t we just talk? And I promise, I won’t go in your head this time.” I tentatively lowered the branch at that. She smiled, moving a few steps closer. “Honestly, I’m really sorry about that. It was an accident. Meige aren’t supposed to enter without permission, but I’m still a novice, and, to tell the truth… you kind of scared me.”
I dropped the branch onto the ground where I’d found it and said, “Same here.”
Ferda grinned and moved over to the side of the pond, where one of the tall plants had toppled long ago. She sat, folding her flowing skirts around her, and kicked off her sandals, dipping her toes into the dark water. “I didn’t realize there were any meige on Gale.”
“What’s ‘meige’? You said that word before.”
“A ‘meiga’—singular—is what you are,” Ferda said, as if that were any sort of satisfactory explanation. When I stared expectantly at her, she laughed and went on, “Sorry. Someone with the ability to enter others’ minds, among other things. Travel the sixth plane. Project your form across long distances and such.”
“I… what? You mean… magic?”
She smirked. “Roughly.”
“But I haven’t entered anyone’s minds. It’s been you. You keep appearing in my thoughts.”
“That’s because you”—she waggled a finger at me—“keep calling me. Even now, you just popped in while I was trying to do my nightly meditation.” Her words seemed cross, but she was still smiling, and her voice was light. She patted the trunk next to her invitingly. I came and sat beside her.
“So,” I said, “if you didn’t bring me here, how did I get here? And what is this place, anyway?”
“This is the woods outside the palace of Nápule. On Orbe.”
I gasped. “Orbe? This is Orbe? Oh, dear Brothers, I can’t stay here!” I jumped to my feet, frantically looking around. “How do I get out of here? How do I get home?” I closed my eyes. “Wake up! Wake up, Miranda, come on—”
“Wait, Miranda, please!” Ferda hurried after me and caught my hands in hers. “Don’t panic. You’re not actually here, it’s just your psyche. Honestly,” she added with a laugh, “this would probably be hilarious to a non-meiga right now. I must look like I’m talking to myself.”
Self-consciously, I looked down at my hands in hers. My olive skin stood in relief against pale fingers adorned with jewel-encrusted rings. Two different worlds.
I slipped my hand out of Ferda’s, but didn’t run this time.
“Just hear me out, Miranda,” she said in a gentle voice. “I think you have the same abilities as me. Which is incredible, because everyone always says that no one on Gale has been able to project since the revolution. That’s why we haven’t been able to communicate with any of the people trapped there.”
I rubbed my fingers against my temples. I wasn’t sure what was harder to comprehend about Ferda, her strange way of speaking or the even stranger things she said. “I only understood about half of that,” I sighed.
“Okay. Sorry. Let me backtrack a little.” Ferda clenched her fists in front of her face and pursed her lips in concentration. “So you know that Gale is Orbe’s moon, right?”
“Yes.”
“But do you know how your people came to be there?”
I quoted the Litany. “The people of Gale were created by the deities of Orbe thousands of years ago to be their servants. But three centuries ago, the Brotherhood rose up against the Pantheon and banished them from our world, so that all men could live as equals. Ever since then, the gods have sent their monsters out after nightfall to try to reclaim us, but so far…” I trailed off. Ferda’s eyes had grown rounder the longer I’d spoken, and now she looked up at the shining light in the sky—obviously Gale, if this was Orbe.
“Stars and galaxies,” she muttered. “Miranda, I have to tell you something. But you might need to sit down for it.”
I remained standing. “What is it?”
She gnawed her lip so ferociously that a small droplet of blood appeared in the corner of her mouth. “Gale is… that’s not…” She exhaled and looked down at her pastel skirts. “Miranda, I know that’s what they told you, but it’s not true. Until twenty-five years ago or so, Gale was a colony. Of explorers. From Orbe.” I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I know it’s true. Their governor, Prosper, was a meiga, and he was a friend of my father’s. But there was a revolution—I’m not sure everything that happened, it was before I was born—and Prosper got overthrown. And after that, we completely lost contact with Gale. No communications, no projections from the meige that had lived there, nothing. We knew someone was still there, because whenever any of the kingdoms of Orbe send scout ships out, they get shot at. But we had no way of knowing who it was, or how many people were still alive, or what kinds of lives they were living, or anything.”
Ferda trailed off as my knees started to give way. She caught my elbow, bracing my weight against herself. “See, I told you to sit down!” Gently, she helped me to sit on the fallen trunk again and crouched in front of me, looking up into my face.
“Why should I believe you?” I asked raggedly.
She shrugged. “No real reason to, I guess. But…” She looked down at our feet. “I’m not lying, Miranda. I promise.”
I pulled my knees up into my chest and rested my cheek against them. My eyes burned, so I squeezed them shut. I had no reason to trust this strange girl, with her odd mannerisms and her multicolored hair. But by the same token… I kn
ew my father was lying to me about something. And there had to be a cause for everything that had happened to me, both the fits and the visions.
What if Ferda was right? What if my father had once been a meiga, and he’d passed it on to me? But if that was the case, why hadn’t he recognized the symptoms of my fits?
“This is too much,” I said into my knees, my voice muffled. Hot tears seeped into the fabric of my breeches. “Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve it? All my life I lived by the edicts. I never wanted to be different.”
“It’s all right, Miranda,” Ferda murmured. She still crouched in front of me, and I felt her hand brush my foot, an awkward gesture of reassurance. “I know this is probably really weird, but there’s nothing wrong with you.”
“That’s not what they’d say on Gale. If the Watch finds out about me, they’ll...” I couldn’t finish that thought. I was too exhausted. The last few weeks had been too much for me. The fits on their own were bad, but trying to hide first them, and now these visions?
I just wanted to rest. When was I ever going to get any rest?
“Shh, Miranda, everything will be okay.” I felt Ferda shift, slide onto the stump beside me. Her arm came around my shoulders, warm and comforting, familiar in a way I couldn’t describe. “We can talk about this another time, if you want. Just call me, any time. If you can’t figure out how to get back, call me and I’ll come find you.”
A humorless laugh shook my shoulders. “That simple?”
She poked me lightly in the ribs with her free hand. “It has been so far. Two for two, right? Here, close your eyes and relax. Think of home, and envision yourself waking up. That should be all you need to do to end the projection.”
I stilled myself, breathing in Ferda’s warmth for another moment, and blinked. When my eyes opened again, I was back in my parents’ home. Starlight gone, only the smoldering embers of the cooking fire in the next room illuminated the house.
My muscles felt relaxed, and my parents were still sleeping, so I must not have thrashed. I’d had a vision without a fit, just as I’d first had fits without visions. Were the two unrelated, after all? My head ached too much to think about it tonight.
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