Hunger gnawing at my insides and voices murmuring in my ears woke me before the first light of dawn. At first, I groggily tried to shut out the noise by pressing my lumpy pillow against my ears. When that failed, my irritation finished the job of rousing me. I was still exhausted from yesterday as what sleep I'd gotten had been fitful at best, but I realized I wouldn't be able to fall back to sleep unless everyone out there SHUT THE HELL UP!!
Afterimages of the dream strobed through my throbbing skull, vivid and horrid as if they'd really happened. I shook my head and flinched as a fiery spike of pain flared on my collarbone. I tapped the spot, feeling the hot, swollen flesh. The skin had already closed up, but the bone beneath was still quite tender. It would be fine. The pain was already receding and taking my momentary distraction from the voices with it. I growled as I sat up and fumbled around in the dark for my boots and what was left over from the meal I'd gotten yesterday. If going back to sleep meant returning to that nightmare, maybe it was better that I was already up.
After my boots were laced, I looked up and frowned in Steel's direction. He was snoring lightly as he slept on. I didn't put any stock in the prophetic power of dreams, but I knew a warning when I got one. Of course Steel would try to take me with him when we got out of here. I knew that from the second I saw him yesterday. I doubted he'd actually drag me off kicking and screaming, but he was certain to try convincing me I should go back to the military. Or 'don't abandon my duty,' that's how he'll put it. I sighed as I stood. That might actually be worse...
I found the food packet and made to push aside the tent flap. I wanted to sit in the dim pre-dawn light while I ate, but the sound of a distant bird call trilling lightly through the air stopped me. "Crap..." I muttered, realizing my cottony earplugs must have fallen out in the night. I blundered back to my cot and felt around for the puffballs until I found one under the lumpy headrest and the other on the ground near the flap. Well, that's a lesson. Need to keep these in a pocket at night or I might lose them. As for wearing them...
Walking around with my hands over my ears to keep them in place was no good. That was inviting questions with long, unproductive answers. What I needed was a headband. And I happened to have just the thing: one of the strips of Sylvan cloth I'd used as a scarf when Anea flew us to Pineda.
As I stepped through the tent flaps into the dim grey light of the early morning, I pulled the longest cloak-scrap out of the pocket where I kept them. I put in the plugs and tied the cloth around my head, then nodded in approval at my own ingenuity. This would keep the cotton-fluff in place without being too obvious to people who had no reason to know about my impairment. The problem was that I was now deaf to anything but words and the sound of my own blood pulsing. So that's the trade then. If Faolin was right about what's broken inside me, there might not be a better fix than this. I sighed in resignation. Shame. I really like listening to the birds whenever I'm up this early. Now I had to spy on dozens of people's tender morning nothings meant only for their lovers' ears instead. It made my skin crawl with self-loathing, but I didn't know how to block it out.
My stomach growled at me again. My hunger gave me something else to focus on, even if it couldn't fully distract me. I sat cross legged on the damp forest floor and tore through the stiffened bread, drying cheese and dry nuts as fast as I could chew and swallow. When the food was gone I wasn't quite hungry anymore, but I didn't feel anywhere close to satisfied either. I sucked down the water from my makeshift canteen and stood up with a scowl. I couldn't understand what was happening with my appetite! This was so vexing I wanted to fling the glass bottle into the nearest tree when I'd drained the last drop, just to watch it shatter. Instead, I took a breath and went searching for one of the water-bags hanging from the fence posts. As I walked, I decided to do an experiment.
I fed my own frustration and concentrated it into the fire lung beside my heart, which had been disturbingly passive since Os'tarell had 'investigated' me yesterday. To my relief, the muscles quivered and clenched slightly around what felt like a burning coal in my chest. I reached the water-bag and had to figure out how to open the Sylvan-designed valve to refill my water bottle, and the organ relaxed the second I stopped thinking about it. I was so startled by the taut heat vanishing I could only stare at my chest in confusion until the water overflowed from the bottle and spilled down my hand. Cursing under my breath, I fiddled with the valve again until I managed to close it, then I dried the bottle with a sleeve, corked it, and slid it back into its pocket. Then I glared at my chest again.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I demanded, thumping my sternum with a fist. The organ was now behaving in the exact opposite way that I grown used to. Granted, it was much better for it to unclench when I forgot about it instead of tightening up, but why was it happening?
I chewed my lip while I considered trying to breathe fire again, just to make sure I still could. Answering that question could put my mind at ease, but it was also a waste of venom I might need. And it would freak the hell out of any of my fellow humans who saw. I looked around the tents within the ring of fencing, all still dark under that heavy fabric, and shook my head. No, not now. If anyone sees me...
Steel was already treating me different after what Faolin had told us last night. I wasn't ready for him to know how far from human I really was now. And he was my friend. What would the others think, the ones who only knew me as the guy who was getting special consideration from the enemy? Nothing good, that's what. I decided I had better keep my abnormalities as quiet as possible if I wanted these people's help to escape.
Escape... I started scheming again as I returned to my tent. Or tried to, anyway. I still couldn't tell one of these uniform brown tents from another. After looking around at them in their perfect circle with perfect spacing between them, I decided to sit by the smoldering fire in the center of the camp rather than risk poking my head in on someone I didn't know. I'll have to ask Steel to show me how he knows which tent is ours. But once I was seated, it was back to escape.
It was the best option I had, if it was even possible. I didn't have time for Vaa'len to finish her investigation and let me go, even if the Sylvan meant to keep their word about that. Or rather, Anea's eggs didn't have time. They could be hatching as soon as tonight, and they were certain to hatch within a week. There had been zero doubt in Anea's mind about that. I had to get back to her and soon! But I didn't see any way I could fight or sneak my way out of an encampment this big. And there was another complication.
If I tried to escape and failed, they'd punish Steel. If I succeeded, they might kill him, so he had to come with me. But even if we somehow found the edge of the camp and escaped into the wilderness, then what? I had no clue where we were, nor where in the Rockies to find Anea's valley. Even if I did, walking the distance we'd flown from her new nest to Pineda would take days by itself. I could count on Anea flying around searching for me until the hatchlings arrived, but if I didn't get in range of her hearing before then, she'd be stuck with them. Without me there, she wouldn't be able to leave them alone for anything, not even to hunt. But- No. She can't leave without someone there. And she wouldn't need to leave at all if someone else could bring food to her. I tasted bile on the back of my tongue as a new possibility occurred to me.
What if I tell them about Anea's eggs? They wouldn't let me go back to her before they were good and done with me. They wanted the power they believed Anea had given me too much to compromise on that. But the Sylvan also seemed to have some level of reverence for dragons. There was the song of praise that had first led me to Faolin, Anea's description of his attitude toward her, and the way Os'tarell had spoken of the power of dragons and their dominion over the world. And why else would they keep saying they'd send me back to Anea in the end? That sure as hell wasn't for my sake. No. They respected dragons, and I got the feeling that respect might even include some level of worship. So what would they do if they knew a dragon was so desperate for help, especially a dragon they seemed eager to placate?
They could definitely spare a few bodies to guard the hatchlings or hunt for her. But what if Anea attacks them or drives them off? What if they decide to threaten her babies to control her? What if it all works out and she doesn't need me back? I recognized that thought as Os'tarell's poison and shook my head viciously. I stood up to pace. He was full of shit! She'd want me back even if she didn't have eggs to worry about. And even... I swallowed against the lump in my throat. And even if she didn't, who cares? It's the hatchlings I should be thinking about, not me. I remembered Anea wailing in front of her collapsed cave, and that tiny scorched paw I'd unearthed among the cinders. I told Anea I'd protect them. I decided to leave everything behind to do it. I'm going to keep that promise, no matter what it might cost me. Still, without any clear idea of how they'd react to the news of Anea's eggs, telling the Sylvan about them was just too much of a risk to take.
The sky was turning pink between the leaves and needles as dawn broke behind the mountains. The first few people began to poke their heads out of the tents in the stockade. They waved to each other and passed a few words of greeting, but they fell silent when they noticed me sitting by the fire pit. My spine prickled under their suspicious glares. I would have taken the hint and gone back to my tent, but I still couldn't tell which was mine.
"Hey. Good morning," I ventured hesitantly. "Look, I'll get out of your way, but um..." I trailed off and swallowed. "Could one of you point me to Captain Walker's tent? They all look the same to me." They looked at each other for a second, then a short, sandy-haired guy answered me.
"They are all the same. The Captain's tent is two clockwise from the one straight across from the gate. He also carved two arrows into the front support, but you'll have to get close to see them." I nodded, grateful Faolin's ear plug trick was still working, and stood to leave. "Wait," the man entreated, stepping toward me. "Listen. The Captain said we should leave you alone because the Skinnies really messed you up. But you look alright to me. Maybe you should stay. There's some talk going around and... Well, I think you should look a man in the eye and hear his side of things before you judge him." My side?
"What kind of talk?" I asked instead. "I just got here yesterday."
"You made an impression." He reached the firepit where I was standing and stopped to look me up and down. "The green ones don't talk to anyone, but they said things to you, and it looked like you understood their language. And no one's gotten to leave but you." His eyes reached my headband and locked on it. "Where'd they take you? What do they want with you?"
The other people who were awake were shuffling closer, and two more were just poking their heads out into the light. The whole camp's going to be up soon. I reached up to tug the lip of my headband down below the rounded tips of my ears while I answered. I wanted to be sure they were plainly visible to any suspicious eyes.
"They took me to their part of the camp," I explained, raising my voice a bit so the gawkers could hear too. "There was a big, circus-size tent there. I'm guessing it's where their leaders set up shop."
"Did you see any kids?!" Another man asked, half-crazed with desperation. "They took our daughter from me and my wife! We haven't seen her since and no one will talk to us!" The others started demanding to know if I'd seen their loved ones, and I had to shout to be heard.
"No! I'm sorry! No! I didn't-"
"Quiet!" The first man hissed, waving his hands downward. "Guys, you know they don't like it when we get too loud. We've all got questions, let's give him a chance to speak for himself." I looked around despairingly at the growing crowd. More people had been roused by the noise. Half the tents had their flaps open now. I didn't see Steel's face yet, and I silently cursed him for being such a heavy sleeper.
"I saw plenty of people in the part of the camp they set up for humans, but I didn't see anyone besides sylvan and ogern where they took me. As for why they brought me there, well... That's kind of a long story. The short version is they want something, and they think I can help them get it."
"And what the hell's so special about you?" a woman demanded from somewhere in the crowd.
I took a deep breath. "If I tell you, I don't think you'll believe me." And if you believe me, you'll probably hate me.
"Why?" Yet another person asked. "Because you think it's got something to do with magic? Kyle told some of us what you told him already: that all the Skinnies' tricks are actually real life magic. Do you think you're the only one who's been thinking that?" About half the faces were nodding, the rest were frowning. "However they do what they do, it sure as shit looks like magic."
"It's also what they call it. They say they can all do it..." With that, I managed to steer the interview into a less sensitive direction. Instead of asking about me, they were asking about the Sylvan: how many were there, how their 'magic' worked, where had they come from, did they kill all the electricity, and plenty of other questions besides. I answered them to the best of my knowledge, and the questions stayed on this relatively comfortable subject for a while. Unfortunately for me, there was no clock for me to run out here. Eventually, some bright spark decided to ask how I knew everything I was telling them.
"Well... This is back to the part I'm sure you aren't going to believe. I know most of this stuff because a month ago, a dragon saved my life, and I was living with her until the Syl- the Skinnies captured me." If disbelief has a sound, it's got to be that silence that comes right after you finish talking that lasts just a bit too long. It's obvious that they're running through all the possibilities in their mind. Did he misspeak? Did I hear him wrong? Is this a joke? Is he lying? Is he crazy?
"A dragon?" The blonde man in front asked skeptically. There were a few chuckles and quiet 'bullshits' from the rest as he continued. "You mean-"
"I mean a fifty-odd foot long, intelligent, flying, fire-breathing lizard. Yes, a dragon." There were a lot of shaking heads, and a few people were walking away.
"I believe him." I craned my head around to see that Steel had finally woken up and joined the congregation. The rest were turning to look at him too. "He told me about his dragon yesterday. I've known him for almost three years now, and he's not a liar. I believe him."
"Captain, come on-" the blonde guy started, but Steel cut him off.
"Come on? Chris, look around you. Feel that thing wrapped around your neck. How is any of this happening? We all know that whoever these- these- these others are, they aren't human. We've agreed about this, right?" Most nodded or mumbled assent. "Unless this is all some impossibly elaborate hoax, they aren't human. So that means they're either space aliens without ships-" there was a surge of chatter he had to wave down before continuing, "or we can accept that we don't know this world as well as we thought we did. That means anything is possible now. Anything." Chris kept staring at Steel, but a couple people were turning back to me with uncertain eyes.
"If you don't believe me about this," I said with a shrug, "then there's no point in me trying to explain anything about what the Skinnies want with me. It has everything to do with her and what... I've been through with her." I almost said 'what she did to me,' but I switched my words just in time. Steel was right; I wasn't a liar. But too much truth too fast might be just as bad for me as getting caught in a lie at the moment.
"You're not giving it to them, are you?" A red-haired woman asked. "Whatever it is they want from you, it can't mean anything good if they get it." I glanced at the ground. If only it was that simple.
"They aren't asking," I replied sullenly. "They're taking what they want from me. They might be able to take it from my corpse if I piss them off. The only way I could stop them would be to escape. But..." I trailed off and watched several of my audience reach up toward their collars, stopping just short of touching them. After a few seconds of the despondent silence, someone pointed over my shoulder.
"They're bringing breakfast," he said, and the group dispersed toward the gate, catching Steel and me up in their wake.
"The Skinnies don't really care what we do in here, but they don't like us talking about escape or 'fomenting resistance.' Obviously we're careful whenever any of the green bastards or people from outside might be listening, but the Skinnies..." he shuddered as he trailed off. "They sometimes know things they shouldn't. And if they catch you even planning to start trouble, they can stop you. They switched me off for a whole day after I first got here." He looked me in the eyes and lowered his voice. "Look man, I need you to stop holding out on me. I want to trust you, but I can tell there's something you don't want to tell me. I need to know... that you're still the Lieutenant Johnson I know. So when we get our food, we're going to talk, and you're going to get to the point before they take you again." He'd switched from Steel to Captain Walker just then. This wasn't a request or suggestion.
"Captain," I breathed, "You sure about this? It doesn't have anything to do with the Sylvan." He didn't respond. "Fine," I continued, "You know how you felt about last night?" He nodded just visibly. "You're gonna be about ten times as happy if you make me tell you what you're asking." His scowl was all the answer he gave as we waited for our breakfast ration. I wasn't called out of the line this time, but I noted the serving couple's recognition when they saw me. And no one could have missed them giving me a packet marked with a white streak to distinguish it from the uniform deep green of the others.
"Just hang in there for a week or so," the elderly woman said with an encouraging smile. "They're going to take us all back to town soon and make sure we're settled in for winter. Things won't be so bad then, you'll all see."
"They're invaders, you stupid old sheep!" Someone further back in the line burst out while I edged away. "They're here to conquer and enslave us, and people like you aren't even making it hard for them!!" She sighed and shook her head sadly.
"And you are?" She asked, taking the next ration from the pile. "You poor stubborn fool. Maybe they came to help us, or maybe they're here to conquer like you say. What can we do about it if you're right, hmm? They've got us all collared and chained like dogs so they don't even need to guard us. All you people are doing is barking louder, and a fat lot of good it's done anyone. At least my chain's a little longer than yours." She handed Steel his packet with a wan smile. "I haven't seen any of you refusing their food or sleeping on the ground instead of in those tents they gave you. We're all living on their grace, and you'd do well to remember it." Steel nodded politely then headed for his tent with me following.
Before we took more than a few steps however, I saw Faolin poke his narrow face out of his tent to check the length of the line. I stopped dead in my tracks, blood pounding in my ears as I suddenly remembered the outrageous accusations he'd leveled at me last night. Steel protested a few seconds later when he noticed I'd turned to march straight up to the stuck up sylvan. He saw me coming and stepped out of his tent to face me.
"Go away," he said. "I'm in enough trouble without associating with you." He glared down at me and made to step around me and join the line. I stuck my arm out to stop him. "I said-"
"No," I cut him off, slashing my hand. "You listen here. The Sylvan hate us, I get that. But what the hell is your beef with me, huh? And don't give me any bullshit about breaking your arm or choking you out. That was self-defense, and you fucking know it!" Faolin's face flushed red, and his good fist clenched. Then my flight vest tightened around my chest as someone grabbed it from behind, restraining me from getting any closer.
"Adrian, drop it," Steel ordered, dragging me back a step. "Forget about him and whatever happened between you two. He's one of them; who cares what he thinks?" I wrenched myself free, or tried to anyway. Steel had always been stronger than me, and he had a good grip.
"I care!" I spat. "And so do the other sylvan I have to deal with. I need to know what they think I did! I need to know a lot of things, and he's the one who can tell me!" Crap! I should have asked him yesterday! The onslaught of unpleasant surprises I'd endured after meeting Vaa'len had distracted me from the more basic questions about the Sylvan I still needed answers to.
"Lieutenant Johnson, calm down!" the Captain hissed in my ear. "You're making a scene. If you're not careful, they'll use the collar to shut you down for a few hours." That actually gave me pause. I stopped struggling and focused on the feeling of said collar for a second. It was at its usual necktie grip around my neck. It might have been looser earlier, but I hadn't been paying it any attention. Faolin took advantage of the pause to sidle past us and take a spot a few paces back from the end of the line. I whirled on the Captain, fuming. "This isn't the time for settling whatever grudge you have with him," he said, releasing my vest. "We've got a lot to bring each other up to speed on, and we need to get started now."
"No," I argued, "What we need is solid intel on the enemy. One of them's right there and-"
"And you think you're the first one to realize that?" Steel cut me off. "We've already tried, and he won't talk to us. Whatever he did to get himself thrown in here, he's made it clear he's no friend of ours. And there's not much we can do to convince him otherwise with these damned collars keeping us from... properly expressing our disappointment with his uncooperative attitude." I snorted, not sure whether to be amused or appalled by the insinuation.
"Those guys last night were making their feelings pretty clear," I said, settling on cool disapproval. "But afterward, he decided to help the guy who helped him. One thing I've learned about these people: they are incredibly proud. You won't intimidate them, and I doubt you'd be able to beat any answers out of them either. I also don't think that's necessary." Steel's eyes narrowed.
"Okay..." he pronounced slowly. "So you're saying you weren't about to try kicking him clean through his own tent."
"Not exactly." I had been thinking about paying back his insults from last night, but that petty urge was gone now. "We have some history. He um... he tried to use his telepathy on me when we first met and it backfired. I ended up with a bunch of his memories, and it sounded like he got a lot of mine. And..." I gazed off into the distance, biting my lip as I sifted through the collage of memories and impressions I'd recognized as Faolin's then done my best to repress. There was only a vague sense of support for my suspicions, making me wish for the first time that I'd retained more from our merging. "I think I might understand why he's in here with us. Maybe. In any case, I'm the only one of us he knows at all. If anyone is going to get him to cooperate with us, it's me. Maybe I can convince him that we can and should help each other." Steel just stared at me, his expression inscrutable. After a minute, I looked over my shoulder to check on the line. Faolin was just accepting his parcel, and would be back here soon. Turning back to the Captain, still staring at me while he worked through some internal debate, I decided I'd had enough. "Look, I'm doing this. I'm not asking your permission, just so we're clear."
"Oh?" he asked, a flash of anger darkening his face. "So I'll just follow whatever you say then, is that how you want it?"
"In this case? Yeah, that would be nice. I know more about what's going on here than you do. You should let me take the lead on this."
"I understand more than you think," he hissed as Faolin approached. The sylvan looked anything but pleased to find us waiting for him. "Fine. But I'm staying too. Whatever you get from him, I want to hear it firsthand."
"Whatever the two of you want from me, you won't get it," Faolin declared then, stopping me from trying to get rid of the Captain. We had to present a unified face now.
"Really?" I asked, turning to face the irate sylvan. "What if all I wanted was to thank you for helping me talk to my buddy again?" Faolin looked surprised for a second.
"I don't care," he said, regaining his composure. "That was fulfilling a debt. I refuse to owe a favor to a human."
"Then how would you feel about me owing you one?" I asked, positioning myself directly in front of the entrance to the one-cot tent. "Look Faolin, whether you want to admit it or not, we're in the same boat here. We should-"
"I am not one of you, and I am not a traitor!" He spat vehemently. "You'll get no more help from me. Now, get out of my way and leave me to myself. That's all I want."
"Yeah. You've always liked getting time to yourself, haven't you?" That struck a nerve. The sylvan gaped at me for a moment, then closed his mouth and turned to stalk off. I followed. "You like being part of the All, but you also like having your mind to yourself. That's why you volunteered for scouting duties. It's why you were out where I could run into you."
"Leave me," he said. "You know nothing-"
"You're friends with Tohnaal," I plowed on, voicing out a new memory as it came to me. "You used to talk about leaving the Haven to explore the real world, but he always imagined doing it with hundreds of other sylvan beside you." I froze, stumbling as my brain caught up to what I'd just said. "Wait a second. Real world?" I jogged to catch back up. "Is this the Haven? Are we even still on Earth? Come on, please at least tell me-"
"You shut the hell up!" He spat, rounding on me with his fist raised in an aborted punch. He pointed straight at my face instead, lines of fury etched into his. "Don't ever say that word to me again! This is not a Haven! Humans would never be allowed in a Haven, even if-" He cut himself off and dropped his hands back to his sides, looking disturbed at his own outburst. His mouth opened and closed a few times as he stared at me before he finally said in a halting voice. "I never got as angry as this before... Before our..." He pointed back and forth between our heads. "I didn't know it was even possible to feel so strongly."
"Just listen, please. All I wanted was to get away from you. Whatever happened afterward, do you really believe I meant to destroy your place with your people?" I asked him. "You can help us. Maybe I can help you. Have any of your people even tried to help you? Tohnaal acted like he thought you were beyond hope."
"I likely am. You... You've actually met Tohnaal? You don't just remember him?"
"I met him," I confirmed, nodding. "He was in charge of the group that sent me here." I paused for a second, then added, "He's hurt, but he looked like he'll probably make it. They snatched me right out from under Anea's nose and she attacked them afterward." The sylvan grimaced and stared down at the food-packet he carried in his splinted arm, thinking. Steel walked up during the pause and stood quietly off to the side.
"Oh, what the hell. Perhaps we have some things worth discussing after all. It's not like I've been making much progress on my own. Let us take our breakfast in my tent while I think on this." We walked back to his tent in silence, Steel trailing close behind.
A few groups of people were eating out in the open. Several people directed curious gazes towards us, but Faolin studiously ignored them. More importantly, the people who'd brought our breakfast this morning had left, and their ogern guard had gone with them. Steel suspected the Sylvan had some other ways to monitor us, but there was no doubt everyone felt a bit better without their minions breathing down our necks. Faolin threw one of the tent flaps aside, revealing that one of those magical lights had reappeared at the roof of the tent, and walked in without a backward glance. The Captain and I followed. Steel gave Faolin a hard, challenging glare when their eyes met, and the sylvan sighed, recognizing a hopeless fight when he saw it. Without a word, the two sat, Steel on the ground and Faolin on his cot, and began unwrapping their parcels.
"What do they even want from me?" Faolin whispered. I glanced up and watched as he continued to mutter to himself, his lips barely moving. "What's the point of squeezing me for information? You can't fight back while you're wearing a suppressor, and I can't help with that. No one wearing a suppressor can remove anyone's. There are no tricks to get around that." Steel didn't react to the complaining, and I realized he probably hadn't meant for either of us to hear that. Probably wasn't even in English.
I looked down at my own food packet, uncomfortable. I had already eaten just a bit ago, but the meal hadn't done much to actually satisfy me. I wasn't hungry per say, but I still felt like eating, so I decided to follow the others' example. As soon as I opened my packet though, the mouth-watering scent of cooked meat turned my mild peckishness into ravenous craving.
"Hoh. Oh shit..." I muttered, going light-headed. I barely resisted the urge to start ripping my packet apart to find the source of the delectable smell.
"What's wrong?" Steel asked. He was wearing a concerned look when I managed to drag my eyes up to meet his. Not giving myself a chance to think twice, I tossed him my whole parcel.
"They gave me meat again," I explained. I had to pause and swallow to keep from drooling. "It's yours. I said you'd get the next one didn't I?" He frowned and dug the fist-sized, papery brown packet out of the larger parcel. When he tore it open, the unbearably delicious scent completely filled the air! My stomach didn't growl so much as roar! What the hell are you waiting for?! That's MINE, goddammit! I wanted to steal the packet back so badly! It was all I could do to sit still while he inspected the ground meat. I shook my head, trying to get a grip. It didn't help.
"Captain," I gasped, starting to pant and shake from the effort of resisting my urgings. "You'd better go ahead and eat that. Now. Outside might be best." He looked back up at me and his eyes shot wide open. He glanced at the meat again for a second, then held the slightly torn packet out to me.
Without a thought, I snatched it back, ripped it wide open, and voraciously devoured the contents! I only took enough care to make sure I didn't spill a single crumb. I stopped myself from licking the papery wrapper, but only just. Then I slowly sat up straight and stared at my hands, finally full and completely disgusted by my loss of self-control.
"What. The hell. Was that?" I asked, my question directed toward a certain dragon far too far away to hear me.
"Intriguing," Faolin commented. I flinched as he spoke. I'd forgotten he'd been watching this whole episode. "So you must be the ones those ogern called 'fire-breather' yesterday. This could explain much."
"What do you mean, fire-breather? What's intriguing?" Steel demanded. "You know something we don't here?" Faolin shook his head.
"I don't know anything, Captain Walker. A possibility has just occurred to me, that's all."
"Care to share it then?!" He snapped, not appreciating the sylvan's cavalier attitude.
"Hmm... No. No, I don't think I will. If I'm right about him, then Adrian has most of the same pieces I do. I want to see him put them together." His silver eyes locked onto mine. "If you can't solve this little puzzle on your own, then I doubt you'll be able to come up with any worthwhile ideas regarding my condition. None I haven't already considered myself, at least." Good god, what a prick. I dropped my gaze down to my chest and stomach and rubbed at my sternum while I thought.
"I'd rather just ask Anea directly and not make assumptions," I grumbled. "But if I had to guess right now, then I'd say you're probably right. That probably had something to do with my fire-lung-"
"Fire. Lung?!" Steel interrupted. "What in God's-" I heaved a sigh.
"It's where dragons store their fire-venom." I explained. "I was gonna tell you this yesterday, but it was too damned late last night. I was tired. Maybe I should have just started with this instead of at the beginning, but Anea didn't stop her Alteration spell once she got me to understand her. She had other plans and uh... suffice to say, they didn't work out. It got out of hand, and there were some side effects. One of those was growing my own fire-lung, and all the stuff it needs to work properly." Incredulity twisted Steel's face as his mouth hung half open. Faolin had his ears pricked forward and an eyebrow cocked with interest.
"So you can breathe fire. And the dragon didn't even intend to do it. Now that is-"
"Have you completely lost it?!" Steel exploded as soon as he found his voice. "You have, haven't you? You actually think you can breathe fire." I held out my hands in a weak 'ta-da' gesture.
"I can. Or I could anyway. I used up all my venom fighting the ogern who captured me. I've never been completely dry before, so I don't know how long it will take before I can flame again." Steel looked at me for another second, then started to vibrate with inaudible laughter, shaking his head. "Anyway," I turned back to Faolin. I needed to finish his little test. "The first time I noticed this thing affecting me was through my stomach when my appetite slowed way down. Now, I'm craving meat like I never have, and this is also the first time I've drained my fire-lung. I'm guessing that's not a coincidence."
"That's good," The sylvan nodded. Steel was still shaking his head at us, but he'd stopped laughing. "Keep going." I looked at the ceiling for a moment.
"Anea said that now I only eat for nutrients and whatever my body needs to make the venom. Dragons are carnivorous. I'm craving meat. I'm going to guess my synthesis nodes need something in meat to make venom from, and that's why I'm so desperate for it." Faolin nodded again.
"That's my supposition as well. You wouldn't know this, but we don't use animal flesh as sustenance unless it is truly necessary. If you're receiving meat with your ration, whoever examined you must have determined you need it."
"Well," I said with a sigh of relief, "That's one less thing to worry about at least. I'll get my fire-breath back eventually."
"Don't count on that as an advantage," Faolin warned. "That meat you ate proves my people are well aware of what you can do. They will account for it when they deal with you." Steel clapped his hands between us then, ensuring I saw the motion and grabbing our attention back.
"Could you two stop talking crazy for a minute? We've got more important things to figure out. You." He pointed at Faolin. "Are you satisfied Adrian isn't too stupid to help you with whatever problem you've got?" The sylvan gave me an appraising glance.
"Perhaps. Seeing the obvious isn't quite the same as repairing a psychic wound though." Steel's lips curled into a snarl and his mouth moved, but whatever came out must have been something other than words because I didn't catch it.
"Well, I'm going to try at least," I put in. "And you're talking to us now. How about you start by telling us exactly what your deal with the All is. That's why you're locked up with us, isn't it?" I recalled the dream of Faolin preparing to leave on his scouting trip. "You separated from it right before we met, then afterward... What happened? Did us merging somehow screw up your ability to, uh, link back up?" Faolin stared at the ground for a minute. Steel silently mouthed 'merging?!' at me, and I shook my head and mouthed back 'later.'
"My ability to Link," Faolin finally said, speaking slowly, "was not directly affected. The problem is more complicated. I can still Link," his voice dropped to a near whisper, dripping with shame, "but I no longer want to." His eyes snapped back onto mine, flashing with sudden anger. "I have echoes of you and your... ideals," he spat the word, "swirling through my head all the time! I try to ignore them, and it doesn't help in the slightest. You would be completely horrified by Linking with the All, what with your obsession with independence and agency. And for the past fortnight, I've had your instincts and sensibilities driving my emotions. Even thinking about Linking makes my skin feel like it's covered in a thousand ants, and the first time I pushed through your insecurities and did it anyway, I panicked and ripped free violently enough to injure myself and several others." Faolin had a wild look in his eyes by then. He paused and took a moment to collect himself before continuing. "That is what you did to me when you spilled your spirit into mine. I can no longer tolerate others sharing my thoughts, and the Sylvan do not tolerate disparate individuals who refuse to share. Now, how exactly do you propose to help me?"
"Huh. Uhh," I muttered, trying to think through the problem. I didn't have a complete solution at hand because I was dealing with the same issue: Faolin's memories swimming through my head. I knew from my experience with Tohnaal what he meant by those foreign impulses being able to hijack your emotions. It wasn't just an occasional inconvenience for Faolin though. "Well, off the top of my head, I don't have very much. I'm guessing you've already tried compartmentalizing the not-your-memories."
"Compartmentalizing?" he asked. "Forgive me, I am not familiar with that term."
"It's... well, for me the first time I noticed something wrong was remembering my wrist breaking. My wrist was fine though, so I knew it couldn't have been a real memory of mine." I glanced at Steel with a wince, wondering how all of this sounded to him. I concluded it couldn't be good. "After that, whenever I've noticed out-of-place memories, thoughts, or feelings, I've been guessing they actually came from you and trying to... kind of ignore any emotions or impulses that came from them." Faolin pursed his lips and the tips of his ears lowered as he thought for a moment.
"And this has worked for you?" he asked.
"Mostly. I feel like there's still a lot lurking in the back of my mind, and new things keep popping up whenever I run across something familiar to you. Or someone. Meeting Tohnaal has been... extremely confusing for me." The sylvan's eyes widened slightly and his ears perked up.
"You... you felt like he was your friend, and you wanted to trust him, didn't you?" As I nodded he turned to Steel. "I knew Captain Walker by sight when he was brought in. I've been referring to him more formally than I feel inclined as a way to push back against your influence. But that's not such a powerful urge. It's nothing like the revulsion I feel when I Link." A long, tense silence followed this last comment. Or at least, it would have been silent if not for the background babbling still churning away nonstop. Finally, Steel broke it.
"Well, this has been utterly bewildering to listen to. Have we actually accomplished anything here?" He waved a hand toward Faolin. "Do you feel like sharing some of what you know to keep us interested, or should we just go ahead and leave you alone again?" He was already standing up and brushing off his pants as he spoke. I followed his example, resigned and disappointed. Faolin was right. I didn't have a clue how to fix his problem with his people, so he would refuse to help us. This had just been a waste of time and energy.
"Alright," the sylvan muttered as we stepped toward the open flaps. "I said alright! Stop," he entreated, standing to follow. I turned around while Steel just looked over his shoulder. "I- I..." he looked like he was choking on the words. "I want to keep talking to you about this, Adrian. You might not have a clue about what actually happened between us, but you understand how it feels, and you seem to be handling it better than I am. Maybe... if we just keep talking, I... we can figure out how." He glanced at Steel and sighed. "And I can-" Before he could say another word, Steel whipped around and slapped a hand over the sylvan's mouth!
I took a step forward to intercede, but Steel had already removed the hand. He was now holding a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture while he waved us back into the tent. Faolin was incensed, ears pinned, face twisted with outrage, but his expression cooled a bit when Steel jabbed his finger at all three of our collars, then waved again. Reluctantly, he returned to his seat on his cot while Steel pulled the flaps closed. The Captain then reached into a cargo pocket to produce the same notebook he'd used to communicate with me yesterday. After a minute of frantic scribbling, he handed the book to Faolin. The sylvan's face went from insulted to intrigued as he read, and when he was finished, Steel passed the book to me.
With the werelight overhead providing plenty of illumination, even with the tent flaps closed, I read: Skinnies LISTENING! Dont know how or how often, but they can catch things. Think its probably the collars. Dont ever SAY anything you dont want them to know! Find something to write it on. Would have warned earlier but didnt think this would work. Fayohlin, if you really are willing to tell us things the rest of your people wont, you should write that stuff down too. I shot Steel a questioning look, and he nodded confirmation.
Well, shit. This was going to complicate things. I thought we were done with this damned book. Steel held out his hand for the book and began writing again when he got it. He gave it back only a few seconds later.
You two keep talking like you were. That's our cover. Fayohlin, you and me are going to talk through print and come to an understanding. You can start by breaking down this "All" I keep hearing about in layman's terms. Start with what you'd tell a four-year old and we'll work up from there. And that was exactly what we did.
Over the next hour, Faolin and I continued our previous discussion. We each recounted some of the not-our-memories to confirm beyond any doubt where they'd come from. Then we described how we thought the experience had changed us and what we'd been doing to deal with it. Overall, we found that Faolin had indeed been trying the same things I'd been doing to deal with those echoes inside him, attempting to identify everything that wasn't him and block it out. For whatever reason, it just wasn't working for him. The more we talked though, the more I began to wonder if I really had been as successful with compartmentalizing Faolin's thoughts as I'd given myself credit for.
The way he kept coming back to the conflict between what he knew he should feel and what he actually, viscerally felt reminded me all too well of what I'd gone through meeting Tohnaal. It made me wonder: what if I wasn't any better at staying in charge of my own emotions than Faolin was? What if instead, in the last couple of weeks Faolin had just encountered many more situations that invoked those foreign impulses than I had living with Anea? It wasn't a pleasant thought.
Meanwhile, Steel's notebook passed between himself and the sylvan dozens of times as the Captain worked Faolin for all the information he could glean. When I got the chance to read through the back and forth during a collective lull, I found that the debriefing had been focused on four main questions: where had the Sylvan come from, what were their intentions toward the U.S. and/or humanity, what were their intentions for the people rounded up in Pineda specifically, and of course, what exactly was the All?
To my chagrin, I found I cared much more about this last question than the other, far more strategically relevant ones. I couldn't help it; there was an intolerable itch inside me for the knowledge, like a word on the tip of my tongue or a dream half-remembered. I needed to fill the gap. Faolin's responses finally did that. Mostly.
Put in simple terms, the All was a group consciousness that all adult sylvan participated in. However, unlike the Borg drones I knew Steel would have immediately pictured, every sylvan was still an individual. Rather than merging all sylvan into one singular entity which controlled multiple separate bodies (like the thing Faolin and I had briefly created), the All connected each sylvan to every other on a mostly subconscious level. He was light on the details of how it worked, but it allowed any sylvan to telepathically communicate with any other who was a part of the All no matter how far away they were. It also gave each sylvan access to the entire group's enormous collection of knowledge and experience at will. As an example: every sylvan could understand English and even slowly speak it by borrowing the knowledge from others who truly understood it on their own.
The All also seemed to play a large part in how the Sylvan governed themselves. He said that as well as opening their memories and thoughts to each other, the All itself drew on each individual's will, desires, and drives, and aggregated them into its own Will, which was supposed to perfectly reflect what the Sylvan wanted for themselves as a society. All sylvan had a vague sense of this Will at all times, but actually articulating it to any degree of detail tended to get contentious fast. It was very difficult to tell where the All's Will stopped and the individual's will began. Because of this, some sylvan specialized in objectively reading and pronouncing the Will for all other sylvan to act on. These sylvan were called the Speakers of the Will of All, or just Speakers.
It sounded like a very direct, albeit extremely creepy, form of democracy and struck me as a surprisingly sensible way to run a government. At least, it did until I actually thought about it for a few minutes. Glaring privacy concerns aside, I'd already begun to think of the All as a kind of telepathic internet after my conversations with Vaa'len yesterday. So in my mind, this would be like trying to take every single forum, thread, and comment section online and have a few moderators sort through it and make policy out of the mess. It made my head hurt just to think about, and I even felt a tiny bit of pity for Os'tarell. If that's his day to day job, it might explain why he's such an ass.
Something else bugged me about Faolin's explanation. It was just... too dry. I could clearly remember how even thinking about the All had filled Faolin with some odd mix of pride, longing, and sublime fulfillment. Nothing he'd put down in his answers to Steel had given any hint as to what made the All feel so transcendent to the Sylvan. Maybe it couldn't be put into words, and was just something you had to experience for yourself. Well if that was the case, I decided I could live without the full explanation.
Just as I'd reached this conclusion and started digging into the other information Faolin had provided, the interruption I'd been expecting all morning arrived. "First Lieutenant Adrian Johnson. Present yourself at once," a loud, rough voice ordered.
"They're back for me again," I muttered, more annoyed than frightened this time.
"Guess you'd better get out there then," Steel replied, standing with me. "Maybe if you're cooperative they'll start letting their guard down."
"Unlikely," Faolin said to our backs as we stepped out into the midmorning light. We found the expected group of five ogern, two males and three females, armed with spears and waiting in the center of the stockade just like yesterday. I nodded to the Captain and received a resigned shrug in return, then I walked out to meet them with apprehension gnawing on my guts and my heart.