by Jane Toombs
Danica wondered why these men couldn’t see Melantha would never be willing to “get together” with her on anything. Evan insisted she shouldn’t take Melantha’s dislike personally. How else could she? Dislike was personal. Now here was Galt’s assurance that she and Melantha could work with each other. Danica sighed. “I’ll try.”
“You sound dubious.”
She glanced over at him and their eyes met. His were soft, so dark she wondered if they could reflect emotion.
“I’m not sure Melantha will accept any idea of mine. But I do want to help Amy,” she said.
“Melantha will come around in time,” Galt assured her. “You’re a very warm person. Hard to resist.”
They were still facing one another, and Danica saw a flicker deep in his eyes. Something inside her leaped in response. She leaned toward him and his hand moved toward her face, faltered, then stopped.
“How long have you known Evan?” he asked.
She jerked back. “Several months,” she said, her words clipped. She felt rejected, thrust away.
“That’s why you came to Star-Fire?”
“That’s how I heard of Star-Fire,” she corrected.
“Melantha mentioned his interest in you.”
Melantha. What business was it of hers? Or Galt’s either, for that matter. Danica sat very straight. “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me about Amy?” she asked. “Do you know why she’s so afraid?”
“She came here afraid.”
“She still is. How long ago did she lose her parents?”
“Three years ago. Apparently it was a murder-suicide. And Amy was left in the house with the dead bodies.”
“Where was she for the two and one-half years before she came here?”
“Her guardian tried to place her in a foster home, then several other private homes for disturbed children. She ran away from every one of them and was so disruptive they couldn’t handle her.”
“Hasn’t she any relatives?”
“Only the uncle who is her guardian. He’s a bachelor, and quite frankly doesn’t want any part of Amy. He pays for her care from her parents’ estate, which he tells me is nearly depleted. I don’t know if…” He broke off.
“Was Amy diagnosed as mentally disabled while her parents were alive?”
“Apparently not. But since she hadn’t been in school yet, she’d never been tested.”
“Not been to school? Isn’t she nine now?”
“This month. But her mother—well, Amy was never enrolled in school.”
“Doesn’t her uncle remember her before the tragedy?”
“He says not, he didn’t really pay attention to her.”
“But her doctor, someone…”
“He’s dead. The records show only when her immunizations were given, that sort of thing. He was elderly, had been Amy’s mother’s doctor since she’d been a child.”
Danica shook her head. “Someone ought to know.”
“We couldn’t find anyone who did.” He touched Danica’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here. Amy needs a fighter. Melantha has tried, but Amy isn’t fond of her. I see that as well as you do, though Melantha won’t admit it.”
“I am going to help Amy,” Danica said. “No matter what.”
Chapter Ten
The November evening had edged into night when Danica left Galt’s. She hurried along the path to her house, but hesitated when she heard someone talking.
“I know you’re there, Amy,” a woman’s voice said.
Melantha? Danica moved closer.
“There’s no use in hiding. You know that, Amy.”
Yes, Melantha, her cape swirling about her, stood just above the path. Dido was in the path and Danica almost tripped over the cat.
“Are you looking for Amy?” she asked Melantha.
“It’s a game she plays,” Melantha said. “She can’t win.”
“She’s so afraid,” Danica said. “Couldn’t you just let her come home to you?”
“And have her out in the cold all night? These children need a routine; they must learn to follow one.”
“But Amy’s different.” As soon as she said the words, Danica was sorry. Melantha whirled around and faced her. The dark shape was somehow sinister.
“What do you mean?”
“Why—I—it’s just that Amy seems more disturbed than the others.”
“Many of them were the same when they first arrived at Star-Fire. Of course, you couldn’t be expected to know that.”
Danica held back words with difficulty. Melantha’s supercilious attitude was infuriating.
“Amy,” Melantha said, “come out right now.”
“Let me talk to her,” Danica said.
“Amy is my business, not yours. Good night.” Melantha turned her back.
Amy, Danica thought, I won’t abandon you. “I’m interested in Amy,” Danica said. “Is it possible for us to work together?”
“I doubt it,” Melantha said. “You haven’t sufficient knowledge to grasp what I’m doing.”
“Galt said I could work with Amy,” Danica said stubbornly.
Melantha didn’t answer. She made a sudden dart into the bushes above the path, and Danica almost cried out when she saw Amy’s white face before Melantha wrapped her dark cloak around the child. Danica fought against an urge to snatch Amy away and run.
“You make Amy more afraid when you grab her like that,” she said. But Melantha came down onto the path and swept by her without saying anything. Danica walked on to her house with her teeth clenched together in anger.
Lydia was reading in the living room.
“Galt wanted me to have dinner with him,” Danica said.
“Hey,” Lydia said. “Neat. But I thought you were with Evan.”
“I was this afternoon. But then…”
Lydia held up a hand. “Don’t tell me. I forgive you for not helping with dinner. Any time I attract two men in one day, I expect you to do the same for me.” She shook her head. “Not that I think it’ll happen soon.”
“Galt just wanted to talk about Amy. I think maybe I can help her. Melantha…” She paused and glanced at Lydia. “Just what does Melantha do with the children? The same as Evan?”
“Well, she uses the energy, we all do. But none of us has ever worked with her, so I don’t know what techniques she has. Melantha isn’t the friendliest person I’ve ever met. Anyway, after Colleen left I wasn’t too interested in being friendly with Melantha. But the kids like her all right.”
“The rest of the staff?”
“Oh, she has some supporters. Probably most feel as I do—neutral.”
I don’t like Melantha, Danica thought, though she didn’t say the words to Lydia.
“How are our children?” Danica asked. “Did Maxwell have supper under the table?”
“I wouldn’t let him, so he sulked all evening. I think he missed having you here. He’s taken to you.”
Danica thought she’d look in on Maxwell after she got into her nightclothes, but when she went into her room she was shocked at the disorder. “Lydia,” she called. They both stood in the doorway staring at the mess. Clothes were strewn all over the bed and the floor, all the dresser drawers were open, and the bed covers were yanked back, exposing the mattress.
“One of the kids…?” Lydia’s voice held disbelief.
Danica thought of Amy, searching through her drawer. But Amy had found what she sought. She wouldn’t… Danica shook her head.
“Maybe Maxwell?” Lydia said tentatively. They looked at each other. “I’ll help you straighten things up,” Lydia said.
“No one else was in the house?”
Lydia started to shake her head and then shrugged. “I really can’t say no. When I’m supervising baths anyone could come in and I’d never hear. They could have; the door is always unlocked. But who would do this? It must have been Maxwell. Though he’s never been destructive. And your room looks like someone was searching for somethin
g. Is anything missing?”
“I don’t know.” Danica began sorting through her things. She folded clothes and put them back in the dresser while Lydia remade the bed.
“I think everything’s here,” she said finally.
“I’m sorry this happened.”
“It wasn’t your fault. Thanks for helping me pick up.”
After Lydia went out, Danica sat on the edge of her bed. Someone had made a thorough search of her room, pulling clothes from the drawers and checking the bed, even under the mattress. What did they expect to find? She had nothing of value to anyone except herself. It was hard to believe one of the children had done this. But as Lydia said—who else?
Danica got ready for bed. Despite the shock of her disordered room, she was sleepy. Probably the wine and the drinks earlier; she wasn’t used to alcohol. Just before she fell asleep, it occurred to her that there was one thing missing—the amulet she had let Amy take the night before. But who would search her room for that? Who knew she had it?
The room was dark when she awoke. For a moment she thought her name had been called, but though she listened she heard nothing. She wondered if she’d left her window open, because she could smell an alien odor. Acrid. Reluctantly she swung her feet out and reached for the bedside lamp. Her hand froze in midair as she belatedly recognized the odor. Smoke. Fire. Danica sat paralyzed, unable to move or call out.
It’s happening again, she thought. I’ve brought fire with me. Her mind didn’t seem to function; she couldn’t think properly. My fault, the fire’s my fault went round and round in her head.
Then she heard her name called again. A child’s voice. “Danica!” Was it Amy? Amy, she thought. Is Amy here? Will she be burned?
Thinking of Amy in possible danger broke her inertia and she sprang up and ran to the door. The wood felt cool to her hand, so she flung the door wide and stepped into drifting tendrils of smoke, not heavy but enough to make her cough.
“Lydia!” she yelled. “Fire!”
Lydia appeared at the other end of the hall and there was a scramble while they rolled three sleepy and protesting children from their beds and bundled them outside.
“Where’s Maxwell?” Danica asked.
“I thought you had him,” Lydia said.
“I got him out of bed and brought him out here with the others, but he’s gone.”
They both looked back at the house where smoke drifted through the open door into the night.
“Under that damned table,” Lydia exclaimed and darted back into the house. The other children got up and started to follow. Danica rounded them together and waited. In a moment Lydia came out carrying Maxwell.
She laid him on the ground while he coughed and choked. “There’s a bunch of stuff burning in the kitchen,” she said. “Watch the kids and I’ll go next door and wake up Frank.”
Frank brought a fire extinguisher with him and soon was dragging a sodden mass of burned cloth from their house.
“Stupid of me,” Lydia said. “We’ve got our own fire extinguisher and I never even thought about it.”
“One of your kids do this?” Frank asked. He was an older man, about fifty, as far as Danica could tell in the dim glow of light from the house.
“Doesn’t look like much damage except from the smoke and some scorched floor tile,” he said. “The wooden cabinet under the sink hadn’t caught fire yet. You let your kids play with matches, Lydia?”
Maxwell was clinging to Lydia’s leg. “Match,” he said. “Burnie-burn.”
Danica knelt down and said, “Let’s see, Maxwell. Let Danny see your match.”
Slowly he opened his hand and proffered a crumpled book of matches. Danica stood up with them in her hand. Did I have matches in my room? she asked herself. Did he find them there? When will I learn? I should have gone to Maxwell’s bed when I found my room disordered. I should have searched him—me, of all people. Haven’t I learned at all? Does there have to be another Kevin?
After Frank returned to his own house and the kids were once again in their beds, Lydia and Danica sat in the smoke-blackened kitchen and drank coffee.
“Maxwell’s not that smart,” Lydia said. “He just doesn’t have the IQ to look for matches in your room, come out here and get oily rags together—where did he find them anyway? I don’t keep oily rags—and light a fire. I’m not sure Maxwell can even strike a match, much less carry out an organized plan like that.”
“Maybe he found the matches in my room and then decided to…”
“Not Maxwell. I’ll grant you he might have tried to light a match or two, but it would have been right there in your room if that was where he found them.”
“I still feel it was my fault. I’m not fit to be taking care of these kids. I…”
“Don’t be paranoid,” Lydia said. “How could it be your fault? Thank God you woke up when you did, or we’d have had a real fire instead of just a big mess.” She sighed. “I suppose we’d better start cleaning up.”
“But I let you go back into the house to look for Maxwell. The truth is I’m afraid of fires. When I first smelled the smoke, I…”
Lydia handed her the mop. “Don’t go on about it. You helped get the kids out as much as I did. We’re all okay.”
The children were up and ready for breakfast by the time the two women had the kitchen in order. The ceiling and walls still showed smoke streaks, but the floor was scrubbed and the counters and table cleaned.
Maxwell came into the kitchen slowly. He circled the table, peered underneath, then climbed onto his chair.
Lydia grinned tiredly. “Maybe he’s kicked the habit,” she said. “No more under-the-table.”
There was a knock on the door and Galt came in with Frank. The two men looked over the damaged floor tile and then went outside.
“Frank’s showing him the rags,” Lydia said. “Frank’s nice enough but he’s a real busybody. I figured he’d tell Galt before we got around to it.”
“How come you went to his house instead of Evan’s last night?” Danica asked.
Lydia stared at her. “I don’t know—I just never thought of Evan. I knew Frank would help, even if he did run to Galt first thing.”
Danica felt her stomach tighten and the bitter taste of bile was in her throat. Galt won’t want me here, she thought. He knows about the other fire and Melantha warned him about me. Now there’s this fire. No one was hurt, but what about next time?
Danica listened to Lydia telling Galt about her room, then about the fire, as though it was a story about someone else. “…and I’m not at all sure Maxwell had anything to do with the fire,” Lydia finished.
“One of the other children, then?” Galt asked.
Lydia looked startled. “Why, I don’t know.”
“Who else could it be?”
Lydia shook her head. “That’s what we said about the mess in Danica’s room.”
Galt turned to Danica. “Do you have any ideas?”
“No.” She could hardly drag the word from her lips. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so tired and depressed.
“Frank and I will take the children this morning,” Galt said. “You both need some sleep.”
“Thanks,” Lydia said. “I’m beat.”
The smoke smell lingered in her bedroom, but Danica was past caring. She fell into bed. But no sooner had she closed her eyes than she felt a jar and sat up quickly. Amy had climbed into the bed with her.
Danica looked from her closed bedroom door to the child. “How long were you hiding in here?” she asked.
Amy stared at her without answering. Danica gazed into the grey eyes and was surprised to see them deeply shadowed. Amy looked ill.
“Are you all right?” Danica asked.
Amy swallowed and licked her lips. “I called you,” she whispered. “I called you and you woke up. Because the fire—I saw the fire.”
“You called me?” Then Danica remembered the feeling she’d had when she woke in the night as though Amy
had said her name. “Where were you?” she asked Amy.
“In my bed. But I wasn’t asleep. She…” Amy broke off and looked around apprehensively.
“There’s no one here,” Danica said.
Amy shook her head. “I have to go,” she said.
“I want to help you,” Danica said, “but I’m not sure how yet.”
Fright pinched Amy’s face and she slid off the bed and darted through the door, shutting it behind her.
Danica sat in her bed. Should I go after her? she wondered. Had Amy really foreseen the fire? Precognition? She shivered.
The bedroom door opened and Melantha came into the room. “I hear there’s been another fire,” she said.
“I—we had a fire in the kitchen last night,” Danica said defensively.
“And what about the next one?”
The words were so like the ones Danica had thought earlier that she wasn’t able to answer. She stared at Melantha. The other woman wasn’t wearing the cape Danica associated with her. She had on black pants and a slate-blue knit shirt. She was beautiful.
Danica straightened her shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
Melantha raised one dark eyebrow. “You should go now,” she said. “I think you know you must. Before you cause any more damage. Star-Fire doesn’t need you.”
“Amy does,” Danica said.
Melantha’s dark eyes glittered. “Amy is mine,” she said. “And there is nothing you can do about it.”
“No one belongs to anyone else,” Danica said. “I intend to help Amy.”
Melantha’s lips curled up in an unpleasant smile.
“You haven’t the power to go against me,” she said. “Fire sign or not.” She shrugged. “Very well. If you won’t leave on your own, I’ll see that you do. Soon.”
Chapter Eleven
Danica lay on the bed, muscles tense, her stomach in a knot. The sense of something terribly wrong at Star-Fire pervaded her. Amy seemed to be the center. Did Melantha know Amy wasn’t disabled? And was she mistreating the child?
I have to sleep, Danica thought. I’ll be of no use to anyone if I don’t. She closed her eyes and forced herself to relax. Gather awareness, she thought. Wrap myself in the golden cloak of energy. Shut away the bad vibes.