up. But the bones of her legs seemed to dissolve and she collapsed to the floor, darkness rushing up to greet her.
Lee heard them talking at the table. They were in the other room and they were talking the quiet way adults do when they don’t want you to hear, but she heard them anyway.
Her head hurt. It felt all funny, like somebody had smacked her across the back of her head and then packed her aching skull full of cotton. Her tummy felt funny, tight and achy, but she couldn’t eat. The food here all tasted so weird. They gave her something to eat called a hot dog. She didn’t eat dogs. She played with them.
Where had Mama gone? One second the noises had been getting so loud, loud, loud . . . roaring in her ears, and then something wet on her face and the sky overhead was so blue it hurt her eyes. It was pretty though. The sky at home was darker. A deeper blue. And at night, it was so black that stars sparkled like diamonds, huge and bright in the sky and glowing with the red and purple and blue lights of the ’roras. She barely remembered the ’roras.
It had been a long time since she’d seen them. Now, the skies were cloudy and the air was smelly. The monsters did it. Monsters that turned things into fire with a touch, monsters that smelled so bad they made her tummy hurt, and other monsters, monsters that looked like people until you saw their eyes. She hadn’t seen them much. Mama and her hid. Mama really knew how to hide.
But she still remembered.
But now Mama was gone. And this wasn’t home. Although the air didn’t smell so gross and the sky was a pretty pale blue, it wasn’t home.
“. . . found her in a field. The hunter was scared to death he had shot her. She gave him a terrible scare.” That was the lady with the streaky hair. She had nice eyes, but she looked so tired.
A deep voice spoke up. “I don’t understand it. How can a little girl just appear in that field? The nearest town is seventy-six miles away. And talking to her, you can’t get anything out of her. Nothing she tells you makes sense. Talking about fire-things and smelly monsters. Says the sky here isn’t right. She talks like she used to see the northern lights, but how in the hell would she go from there to here?”
“Have you investigated anything about a fire? Maybe a chemical fire? Tar or something? It smells something awful when it burns.”
Lee rolled away, reaching out and picking up a cracker. That was what Miss Carson had called them. Crackers. Crackers weren’t so bad. Salty. Better than the hot dogs. Even if the hot dogs smelled sort of good, she wasn’t eating dogs.
They didn’t understand her name either. Lelia Rass. That was her name. Lelia Rass. But they kept calling her Leah Ross. Leah was kind of pretty. But Ross didn’t sound right. It wasn’t her name.
This wasn’t her home . . .
Lee sat up so fast her head was spinning. Whimpering, she pressed her fists to her head.
Damn it, how could she have forgotten that?
Foster kids got bounced around so often it wasn’t even funny, and a lot of them tended to block out memories that weren’t pleasant. But how could she have blocked out something so important?
She remembered the colors. The colors of the sky—like the colors on her screensaver. The smelly things . . . Jorniak demons. Her head throbbed. Opening her eyes, she stared in front of her, seeing through tunnel vision, like she was staring through a hollowed-out crystal prism. Time slowed to a crawl and she could feel the air pulsing around her.
Open your eyes, Lee.
You live there, in your reflection of this world . Reflection.
She felt a ripple in the air. Then tension. Like a storm was brewing. She could feel it, something powerful, lingering just beyond her reach. Icy cold, she climbed to her feet and stood. She swayed, rocking herself back and forth, and let the power in the air wrap around her. And music—Lee could hear the faint strains of music. Alien music.
The tension in the air
Lee heard them talking at the table. They were in the other room and they were talking the quiet way adults do when they don’t want you to hear, but she heard them anyway.
Her head hurt. It felt all funny, like somebody had smacked her across the back of her head and then packed her aching skull full of cotton. Her tummy felt funny, tight and achy, but she couldn’t eat. The food here all tasted so weird. They gave her something to eat called a hot dog. She didn’t eat dogs. She played with them.
Where had Mama gone? One second the noises had been getting so loud, loud, loud . . . roaring in her ears, and then something wet on her face and the sky overhead was so blue it hurt her eyes. It was pretty though. The sky at home was darker. A deeper blue. And at night, it was so black that stars sparkled like diamonds, huge and bright in the sky and glowing with the red and purple and blue lights of the ’roras. She barely remembered the ’roras.
It had been a long time since she’d seen them. Now, the skies were cloudy and the air was smelly. The monsters did it. Monsters that turned things into fire with a touch, monsters that smelled so bad they made her tummy hurt, and other monsters, monsters that looked like people until you saw their eyes. She hadn’t seen them much. Mama and her hid. Mama really knew how to hide.
But she still remembered.
But now Mama was gone. And this wasn’t home. Although the air didn’t smell so gross and the sky was a pretty pale blue, it wasn’t home.
“. . . found her in a field. The hunter was scared to death he had shot her. She gave him a terrible scare.” That was the lady with the streaky hair. She had nice eyes, but she looked so tired.
A deep voice spoke up. “I don’t understand it. How can a little girl just appear in that field? The nearest town is seventy-six miles away. And talking to her, you can’t get anything out of her. Nothing she tells you makes sense. Talking about fire-things and smelly monsters. Says the sky here isn’t right. She talks like she used to see the northern lights, but how in the hell would she go from there to here?”
“Have you investigated anything about a fire? Maybe a chemical fire? Tar or something? It smells something awful when it burns.”
Lee rolled away, reaching out and picking up a cracker. That was what Miss Carson had called them. Crackers. Crackers weren’t so bad. Salty. Better than the hot dogs. Even if the hot dogs smelled sort of good, she wasn’t eating dogs.
They didn’t understand her name either. Lelia Rass. That was her name. Lelia Rass. But they kept calling her Leah Ross. Leah was kind of pretty. But Ross didn’t sound right. It wasn’t her name.
This wasn’t her home . . .
Lee sat up so fast her head was spinning. Whimpering, she pressed her fists to her head.
Damn it, how could she have forgotten that?
Foster kids got bounced around so often it wasn’t even funny, and a lot of them tended to block out memories that weren’t pleasant. But how could she have blocked out something so important?
She remembered the colors. The colors of the sky—like the colors on her screensaver. The smelly things . . . Jorniak demons. Her head throbbed. Opening her eyes, she stared in front of her, seeing through tunnel vision, like she was staring through a hollowed-out crystal prism. Time slowed to a crawl and she could feel the air pulsing around her.
Open your eyes, Lee.
You live there, in your reflection of this world . Reflection.
She felt a ripple in the air. Then tension. Like a storm was brewing. She could feel it, something powerful, lingering just beyond her reach. Icy cold, she climbed to her feet and stood. She swayed, rocking herself back and forth, and let the power in the air wrap around her. And music—Lee could hear the faint strains of music. Alien music.
The tension in the air