Was that even possible? But it seemed to have happened.
She was thinking along a parallel track—that veered sharply. He felt the change ripple through her emotions before she lifted her head and looked earnestly into his face. “Sooooo . . . mates. Doris and Bird gave me the basics. And it explains so much, but so little.” She lifted her hands away, turned in a slow circle as she gazed out over the roses nodding in the breeze, then came back. “I thought I was moving way too fast, but they say it was the same for you.”
Faster, he admitted. Though at first I fought it. Not because of you, he added quickly.
And once again, she was right there with him. “I get it. I think. It was your responsibilities—the tour with the girls. Then this oracle stone thing. And that stuff about a hit man being sent after you—what the heck is that all about?”
I’ll tell you everything, he promised. But first it’s importan
t that we understand each other.
“I feel like we’re on the same wavelength,” she said, peering into his eyes. “Though a part of me thinks it’s wishful thinking. We’re so different. Different lives, different everything.”
But I think we are parallel in a lot of ways. I was never married, but I matched up far too young. In retrospect I think I was in love with the idea of being in love—and of course, being young, we were enthusiastic in bed . . . He paused—and there was not even a whiff of jealousy or pouting on her part.
She chuckled. “I remember those days! But what happened?”
It ended very, very badly. Badly enough to make me more cautious, and finally, it was just easier to avoid getting into relationships altogether.
She turned an anxious look at him. “I hope when you say badly . . .”
No lives were lost, he said quickly, sensing her ready to grieve on his behalf—she knew plenty about grief. And her innate generosity was ready to share it with him. He went on, We were both young, and she had expectations that I hadn’t realized. She ended up blaming me, and finally she left me.
“If you thought it was the real deal, no wonder you were cautious. I would have been, too,” she said. “But with you it’s been different from Day One. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and wanting to know what you’d say, or think, or just look like, and, well, when Doris and Bird told me how much of yourself you surrendered to save me, suddenly I just had to know how you were, and here we are.”
She gave him a dubious look. “I know it sounds crazy, but I don’t know what to call it except a magic spell. Are there, like, magic words to control it? Like abracadabra, only real? I don’t want to say the wrong thing, and turn into a cactus, or find myself on the moon or something.” She waited—then once again lunged at him, hugging his head and neck as she listened for his answer.
I think if you just touch me, we have enough connection for the purpose of communication, he said, shaping the words carefully so he would not overwhelm her with everything he was feeling and thinking. Not that I mind the hugs.
“You’re snickering,” she accused, cocking an eye at him. “I can feel it.” Then she slid a hand up his neck to his forehead below his horn. “But go right ahead and laugh.”
If I’m laughing it’s because I am so happy. You could be angry with me, or panicking, both of which I would completely understand.
Maybe I’m a little in shock. This time she shaped the words in her mind. This mental talk is very weird. And what if I’m thinking about . . . stuff nobody really wants to share? I have to stop touching you, right?
That will work for now. But you’ll get used to this method of speech. Sharing thoughts and not sharing them is like any other conscious action. As for magic words, you can use the word ‘magic’ if you like, or ‘energy.’ In my training, I learned the word ‘qi.’
Tchee?
That’s close enough. What I think happened is that the Transfer Gate in the oracle stone is now a part of you. We’d thought there was only one in the world.
“Really? And I managed to swallow the second one?”
Yes.
“Okay, so now I see why Long Cang and his minions are after it,” Jen said. “If there’s supposed to be only one. But if a thing like that is inside me . . . I think . . . I might have to sit down. And not blip anywhere funky,” she added under her breath.
She walked carefully, hands held away from her sides, as if she walked on eggs. She headed toward a stone bench, and plopped down on it with a sigh of relief. Nikos trotted after her.
Voices reached them from the house, and Bird and Doris appeared together, both pale and anxious. “There you are! Thank goodness!” Bird said, dropping into one of the terrace chairs and fanning herself with her hand.
Doris crossed the terrace. “You suddenly winked out. Like TVs in the old days. We thought . . . well, never mind what we thought. Then Bird had the idea you might somehow end up with Nikos.”
Jen wiped her hands across her eyes. “Sorry. Sorry! I think I left my brains back in my kitchen. I’m so sorry I scared you—”
“Okay. But how did you do it?” Doris asked.
“I don’t know! Nikos thinks the transfer thingie in the oracle stone got into me. I’d like to get it out before that gang of nogoodniks starts coming after me.”