Lies (Gone 3)

Little Jill, wearing a fresh dress and no longer clutching her doll quite so tightly, climbed behind her. She was surprisingly nimble.

Nerezza was right behind her as she climbed, spotting her, keeping an eagle eye on her.

“Careful, Prophetess,” Nerezza murmured. “You too, Jill.”

Nerezza was a pretty girl. Much prettier than Orsay. Orsay was pale and thin and seemed almost concave, like she was hollowed out, caving in on herself. Nerezza was healthy and strong, with flawless olive skin and lustrous black hair. Her eyes were incongruously bright, an amazing shade of green. Sometimes it seemed to Orsay that her eyes almost glowed in the dark.

She was fierce in defending Orsay. A small knot of kids was just at the base of the rock, already waiting. Nerezza had turned back to speak to them. “Lies are being spread by the council because they don’t want anyone to know the truth.”

The supplicants gazed up with faces full of hope and expectation. They wanted to believe that Orsay was the true prophet. But they had heard things….

“But why wouldn’t they want us to know?” someone asked.

Nerezza made a pitying expression. “People who have power usually like to hold on to it.” Her tone of knowing cynicism seemed to be effective. Kids nodded, mimicking Nerezza’s older, cooler, wiser expression.

Orsay could almost not remember what life had been like before Nerezza became her friend and protector. She’d never even noticed Nerezza around town. Which was weird because she wasn’t the kind of girl you overlooked.

Then again, Orsay herself was relatively new in town. She’d been living with her park ranger father in the Stefano Rey National Park and only came down to town long after the coming of the FAYZ.

Orsay had developed her powers before the FAYZ, though. At first she hadn’t known what was going on, where the bizarre images in her head were coming from. But eventually she figured it out. She was inhabiting other people’s dreams. Walking around inside their sleeping fantasies. Seeing what they saw, feeling what they felt.

Not always a great thing to experience. She’d been inside Drake’s head, for example, and that was a snake pit no one wanted to witness.

Over time her powers seemed to have expanded, developed. She’d been asked to try to touch the mind of the monster in the mine shaft. The thing they called the gaiaphage. Or just the Darkness.

It had torn her mind open. Like scalpel blades had sliced through all the barriers of security and privacy in her brain. And after that, nothing had be

en quite the same. After that contact, her powers had risen to a new level. An unwelcome level.

When she touched the barrier she could see dreams from the other side. From those out there.

Those out there…

She could feel their presence even now as she climbed the rock and neared the barrier. She could feel them but not yet hear them, not yet step into their dreams.

She could do that only when she touched the barrier. For on the other side, outside the barrier, on the other side of that gray, implacable barrier, they touched it, too. Orsay saw the barrier as thin but impenetrable. A sheet of milky glass just a few millimeters thick. That’s what she believed, what she felt.

Out there, on the other side, back in the world, parents and friends came as pilgrims to touch the barrier and try to reach the one mind capable of hearing their cries and bearing their loss.

They reached out for Orsay.

She felt them. Most of the time. She’d had doubts at first, still did at times. But it was too vivid not to be real. That’s what Nerezza had told her:

Things that feel real are real. Stop doubting yourself, Prophetess.

Sometimes she doubted Nerezza. But she never told Nerezza that. There was something forceful about Nerezza. She was strong, a person with depths Orsay couldn’t quite see but could sense.

Sometimes Orsay was almost afraid of Nerezza’s certainty.

Orsay reached the top of her rock. She was surprised to realize that there were now dozens and dozens of kids gathering on the beach, or even ascending the base of the rock itself.

Nerezza stood just below Orsay, acting as guard, keeping the kids back.

“Look how many have come,” Nerezza said to her.

“Yes,” Orsay said. “Too many. I can’t…”

“You must only do what you can do,” Nerezza said. “No one expects you to suffer more than you can bear. But be certain to speak with Mary. If you do nothing else, prophesy for Mary.”