had a sizable hole, anyway—and finally looked at her. She had marvelous cheekbones and the darkest eyes he’d ever seen. “So what’s Miscria mean? And can you talk, or do you have to put thoughts in my head?”
“I can talk, if that’s what you wish.”
Her voice was warm and strong, like the Calling. He wondered if it was really hers.
“Of course it is my voice! Who else’s would it be? Are you the Ydrel? Why do you not answer my questions? Why are you playing these games with me?”
Again he felt a thrill of panic, but recognized it as hers, and he suddenly felt very ashamed. “Look. I’m sorry. But I don’t think you realize what affect your questions have on me. You’re ruining my life.”
“You are the Ydrel. You came to our people in our greatest need. You bring us the knowledge we need to survive. That is your purpose, just as mine is to ask the questions, and learn the answers. I am the Miscria.” He felt her shoving aside her fear and replacing it with determination, and he realized she could be as stubborn as he was.
“OK. I’m the Ydrel. Fine. But up until now, all that’s meant is I pass out for no reason at all, whenever and wherever, because you find it convenient. Then I wake up with a weird compulsion to study some bizarre topic that no one on my world cares about any more—well, not many, anyway—and I never know why. And it makes it very hard for me to live a normal life, whatever that is.”
“We need your knowledge.”
“Fine. I’m not saying I’m going to abandon you.” He felt a wave of relief that almost made his eyes water. “But we need some ground rules. Because I can’t continue like this. And maybe, maybe, if we actually talk to each other instead of this compulsion-thing you do, I can help you better?”
She settled herself cross-legged in front of him. “The Miscria haven’t always understood your answers,” she said. “Explain your riddles, and I will find other ways to contact you.”
CHAPTER 6
Joshua was nodding over his latte—his second of the morning. He’d bought an extra large on the way to work, but it had barely cleared away the cobwebs.
And staff meetings sure don’t help , he grumbled to himself. Well, that’s what I get for staying up most the night.
Still, he couldn’t help it. He’d been keyed up, and the radio had accommodated his mood with upbeat love songs so that he had sung all the way home. Once there, he fought off the urge to call his parents. (What could he have said? His first “session” with Ydrel had been inconclusive but promising, but there was this nurse with the most awesome bike—?) So he had puttered around his little flat until he was tired enough to doze.
Even then, his sleep had been light and fitful, full of dreams of Sachiko. They were on her bike, but it was parked in a meadow, up on some kind of double kickstand that held it steady while they—
“Well, Mr. Lawson?”
Josh snapped out of his reverie. He took a long sip of coffee to cover his confusion as he scanned his short-term memory for Malachai’s question, while the rest of the staff stared at him expectantly. Something about what he was doing last night?
“I’m not sure what you’re asking, sir,” he finally confessed.
It actually seemed to be the answer he was hoping for. With a slightly smug look on his impassive face, Dr. Malachai reached under his mammoth Day Planner and pulled out a sketchbook. Joshua got the impression that he wanted to fling it in his direction, but he simply passed it around to Joshua—the long way, so that as many people as possible could see its contents as it was passed. Whatever was on the pad elicited some smirks and a few raised eyebrows. When it finally got to Joshua, he understood why.
The top page held a sketch of the face of a young woman. Wide set, dark eyes shone intently in a narrow face. With high cheekbones and not-quite-full lips, it was more interesting than beautiful, though there was
“I can talk, if that’s what you wish.”
Her voice was warm and strong, like the Calling. He wondered if it was really hers.
“Of course it is my voice! Who else’s would it be? Are you the Ydrel? Why do you not answer my questions? Why are you playing these games with me?”
Again he felt a thrill of panic, but recognized it as hers, and he suddenly felt very ashamed. “Look. I’m sorry. But I don’t think you realize what affect your questions have on me. You’re ruining my life.”
“You are the Ydrel. You came to our people in our greatest need. You bring us the knowledge we need to survive. That is your purpose, just as mine is to ask the questions, and learn the answers. I am the Miscria.” He felt her shoving aside her fear and replacing it with determination, and he realized she could be as stubborn as he was.
“OK. I’m the Ydrel. Fine. But up until now, all that’s meant is I pass out for no reason at all, whenever and wherever, because you find it convenient. Then I wake up with a weird compulsion to study some bizarre topic that no one on my world cares about any more—well, not many, anyway—and I never know why. And it makes it very hard for me to live a normal life, whatever that is.”
“We need your knowledge.”
“Fine. I’m not saying I’m going to abandon you.” He felt a wave of relief that almost made his eyes water. “But we need some ground rules. Because I can’t continue like this. And maybe, maybe, if we actually talk to each other instead of this compulsion-thing you do, I can help you better?”
She settled herself cross-legged in front of him. “The Miscria haven’t always understood your answers,” she said. “Explain your riddles, and I will find other ways to contact you.”
CHAPTER 6
Joshua was nodding over his latte—his second of the morning. He’d bought an extra large on the way to work, but it had barely cleared away the cobwebs.
And staff meetings sure don’t help , he grumbled to himself. Well, that’s what I get for staying up most the night.
Still, he couldn’t help it. He’d been keyed up, and the radio had accommodated his mood with upbeat love songs so that he had sung all the way home. Once there, he fought off the urge to call his parents. (What could he have said? His first “session” with Ydrel had been inconclusive but promising, but there was this nurse with the most awesome bike—?) So he had puttered around his little flat until he was tired enough to doze.
Even then, his sleep had been light and fitful, full of dreams of Sachiko. They were on her bike, but it was parked in a meadow, up on some kind of double kickstand that held it steady while they—
“Well, Mr. Lawson?”
Josh snapped out of his reverie. He took a long sip of coffee to cover his confusion as he scanned his short-term memory for Malachai’s question, while the rest of the staff stared at him expectantly. Something about what he was doing last night?
“I’m not sure what you’re asking, sir,” he finally confessed.
It actually seemed to be the answer he was hoping for. With a slightly smug look on his impassive face, Dr. Malachai reached under his mammoth Day Planner and pulled out a sketchbook. Joshua got the impression that he wanted to fling it in his direction, but he simply passed it around to Joshua—the long way, so that as many people as possible could see its contents as it was passed. Whatever was on the pad elicited some smirks and a few raised eyebrows. When it finally got to Joshua, he understood why.
The top page held a sketch of the face of a young woman. Wide set, dark eyes shone intently in a narrow face. With high cheekbones and not-quite-full lips, it was more interesting than beautiful, though there was
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