9th Life

Ch. 14 Thought You Knew

Cats, no less liquid than their shadows, offer no angles to the wind. They slip, diminished, neat, through loopholes less than themselves. –A. S. J. Tessimond

"I can't be..."

I staggered back, needing a crutch the size of the bus. I was awash in the voices of thousands, but couldn't have felt more alone. However my mind approached it, I always ended up at impossible.

Merelle reached out to Bastian, saying, "Does it bother you so much to find her Maarjaaran?"

"I'm what?" I asked, realizing I hadn't thought past the implications of being Ailuro. Having found my voice, my questions began to overrun one another. "How could I not know? How can you be sure?"

She turned to me, releasing Bastian. He slowly opened his eyes, but they never left the ground, just as mine never left his. Still I registered the kindness in her words. "The Maarjaara harbor the widest array of abilities. We know not only Ailuro, but can often recognize kindreds once we've met. As for how you didn't know, I'm as intrigued as you are."

My thoughts raced as the noise from the arena died down. Nearly speaking to myself, all I could do was whisper, "You knew... before we ever met."

"Yes," Bastian admitted quietly.

And you didn't tell me! Desperate to understand, I could only say, "And?"

"I thought you knew."

"You thought..." I tried to remember the details of that first day. "The flashes of you?"

"Your own visions," he explained, taking a tentative step toward me, but Merelle gripped his arm as if trying to give me space. He looked down at her hand, but she didn't remove it. Turning back to me, he said, "I was going to tell you."

"When exactly?" I snapped, my anger overtaking my confusion.

"When it would feel like a gift," he said, the last word mocking what I had called it. Then he blinked, desperation hurrying his words. "I was at a loss, Sky. You were dealing with more than enough, and I've never known anyone to be uninitiated and none the wiser." He snatched his arm from Merelle's grip and stepped close, saying, "By the One, I couldn't imagine telling you with no idea how to make it anything more than words!" He reached to take my face in his hands.

Self-appointed guardians, Damon and Merelle grabbed his wrists, forbidding the touch. The sudden rush of heat charged the air around us and seemed to elicit the shouts of the crowd beyond the wall. At the moment, I realized, we had a far more pressing problem. It possibly wouldn't matter what I was if Bastian lost his temper.

I stepped away from the bus, allowing myself to feel the lie that threatened to taint my memories. Opening to the hurt, I let my anger lash out and my fist with it, catching him across the cheek, snapping his head back. I suffered a surge of remorse at the sight of blood on his teeth, but turning his anger to shock had made him less of a threat.

Damon shook his head, whether pleased or disappointed, I couldn't say. "She no longer needs your help."

Merelle added, "It's time to go home."

Bastian's gaze leapt back to mine.

Realizing she didn't mean The Ark, I reached for him, explaining, "No. It's okay. Really," but Merelle caught my arm with her free hand. Even knowing it was useless, I tried to pull away, pointing out, "You don't understand. Regardless, I choose him."

Her grip tightened with unnatural strength. My cry was half scream, half curse as I dropped to one knee.

Anticipating Bastian's reaction, Damon threw an arm around his neck, barely containing him even with Merelle's help. Whatever ground my fist had gained had evaporated in an instant.