Down a Lost Road (5 page)

Back at my dresser I hesitated over my
little makeup collection. I never wore much, certainly not in the
summer, but for some reason I wanted to look my best today.
Ridiculous, but…just a little lip-gloss would be perfect. I dabbed
a bit on my lips, then added a dusting of eye shadow. Not too much.
I nodded resignedly at my reflection in the tiny mirror and
retrieved the metal circlet from yesterday’s jeans. I held it a
moment in my clenched fist, then slipped it into my pocket and ran
downstairs, stomping sandy sneakers onto my feet as I went. I
caught sight of Mom standing at the kitchen island, so I gave up
the idea of getting something to eat and made a mad dash to the
door.

“
Merelin!”

Of course I couldn’t get past her that
easily. She didn’t glance up as I halted by the counter, but I knew
she was waiting for an explanation.

“
Going to the
library.”

Should have been reasonable enough. I said
the same thing at least once a week during the summers. It was one
of my favorite haunts, for all I got teased for it. I thought my
mom would buy it, but she just gave me the strangest, stillest look
I had ever seen.

“
Tony’s shift starts at
one. He could give you a ride.”

I made a face. “Nah, that’s okay. I don’t
mind the walk. Don’t worry, I’ll be back by lunchtime.”

She sighed, that thin, tense sigh she always
gave when she wasn’t very happy about something. I thought I
glimpsed some sad weariness behind her eyes, too, but I couldn’t
understand it and didn’t feel right questioning her. She gave me
permission with a nod, so I grabbed a bottle of water and a granola
bar and bolted out the door before she could change her mind.

It was already sweltering, surprisingly hot
for the early summer month, with little curls of heat making the
street shimmer. The smell of magnolias wafted my way, and I
shivered. I walked slowly, grateful for the water I had brought.
The air blasted me, so hot and dry, parching. It felt like…a
desert.

I sighed. I couldn’t let myself wonder if I
had only dreamed it. After all, the sand had been real enough,
hadn’t it? And my legs certainly ached like I’d been walking all
day. The thought made me glance at my arms. I’ve always been on the
pale side, unlike Damian, but today I thought I’d managed to get
the slightest bit of a tan. Not even the teeniest hint of a
sunburn. That made my heart sink. No way could I escape an all-day
walk across a real desert unscathed. I scowled and pushed the
thought aside.

Twenty minutes later I finally reached town.
It wasn’t very big, not the sort of place you’d think would boast a
university like ours. It had all the quaint parks, antique shops,
and old-fashioned gas stations you’d expect in a small town, but
also plenty of coffee shops and bookstores for the students. Mr.
Dansy’s little grocery store was the first one you came to as you
headed down Main. It had been there as long as I could remember,
and we knew Mr. Dansy and his usual customers as well as we knew
our own neighbors. He practically felt like family – when he wasn’t
freaking me out, anyway.

As I turned onto Main, I caught sight of him
on the sidewalk outside his shop, sweeping up broken glass. His
round face shone bright red and glistening with perspiration, but
he beamed a smile at me as I crossed the street.

“
Mornin’!” he called. As I
joined him he waved a hand toward the shop and said, “Go right on
in if you like, store’s open and all. Just cleaning up a bit out
here.”

“
Oh,” I stammered. “What
happened?”

Mr. Dansy waved in exasperation toward the
far side of town. “Oh, some hoodlums from the school threw some
bottles out their car last night. Broke that window there. Got some
people coming out later to fix it, sure ‘nough.”

“
But I thought
they
did that,” I said, before I could stop myself.

Mr. Dansy stopped sweeping. “Who,
darlin’?”

I stared at him, feeling sick. He talked to
me just as he always did, no hint of what had happened yesterday.
I’d hoped that he at least would know what I was talking about –
that with him I wouldn’t feel like I was going crazy. I just shook
my head and wandered into the shop. It was empty except for me, and
somewhere in the back of the store a bulky radio droned barely
audible oldies.

When Mr. Dansy finally came in, I had taken
a seat on one of the old-fashioned stools at the counter. I’d
always liked to sit there when I came to the store with my dad, and
Mr. Dansy would slip me a piece of candy while Dad got our
groceries. Now I sat there with a cold emptiness in my heart,
staring at the glass candy jars without seeing them. In my hand I
clasped the medallion, and couldn’t even recall its name.

“
Mr. Dansy, what
happened?”

“
Well, like I was telling
you, kids came round last—”

“
No, I mean…” Finally,
ignoring how strange it would sound, I said, “I thought I went
somewhere, but now I’m wondering if it was just a dream. And I want
to go back more than anything. I know it sounds stupid, but I don’t
think it was a dream. I mean, obviously you can’t go back into a
dream, not like that anyway. Can’t you help me?”

Mr. Dansy gave me a strange, sad little
smile. “Now hon’, I’m no professor or anything, but I’ll tell you
what I think. I think if you want to get something back bad enough,
you’ll find a way to.”

I left the shop sullen and depressed and
nearly walked into Damian. I shoved my hands in my pockets and fell
into step beside him.

“
The library, huh?” he
said, smiling mirthlessly at me.

“
Were you following me?” I
grumbled.

“
Mer, is this about
Dad?”

“
What makes you say
that?”

Damian shrugged, tossing back his golden
head and hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. “I can tell.”

Of course he could.

“
I don’t know what it has
to do with. I wish I could tell you but, really, I just don’t
kn—”

I stopped abruptly, mid-syllable and
mid-stride. A shadow had fallen over us, but…no. Nothing. The
street was just as bright and ordinary as ever. But that man
standing by the wall across from us. He was watching me. His eyes
bored into me. He saw me…he saw it. I knew without looking at him.
I knew I could not look at him.

“
Damian,” I
whispered.

My throat felt like sandpaper. I reached out
and touched his sleeve, and felt his arm around my shoulders,
supporting me.

“
What’s wrong? Mer, you all
right?”

I blinked rapidly and risked a glance across
the street. Empty.

“
He was just there!” I
cried. My lips felt numb, bloodless. “Damian, didn’t you see him?
He wanted it. He saw it and he was trying to take it. He was one of
them! He knows about me, he knows about him, and all of them. He
saw them in me. He’ll find them, and it’s my fault! I left them and
I betrayed them, and they know where they are!”

I stumbled, felt Damian catch me. It had all
come rushing back, and I felt nauseous. Damian guided me to a stone
bench and sat me down, crouching beside me with his hands gripping
mine. I couldn’t say a word now. My lips trembled and I wondered if
I should have kept my mouth shut. I could tell from the worry in
his eyes that Damian thought I was delirious. He was probably
right. All I wanted was for him to believe me, to share this with
me. But I couldn’t explain anything. I only sat and stared
anxiously at him, not even flinching from his scrutinizing
gaze.

“
I’m going to get the car.
Drink some of your water and don’t get up, okay?” He backed a step,
then muttered as he turned away, “Too hot for a walk like
that.”

I closed my eyes. So dark, so lonely. A cold
sickness clawed through me, like an icy hand wrapped around my
heart. Maybe it was too late. Maybe they had already found the
camp. But who? I didn’t even know what
they
were. I didn’t
know anything, just that somehow everything felt wrong. It had all
gone wrong, and it was my fault.

A few slow minutes crawled by. What was
taking Damian so long?

I glanced up, and my breath turned to stone.
That man in the hat – no, no one there. But there, across the
street, the same man…or another? And he too, gone. Everywhere I
turned, he was there and gone, always staring at me. Then, standing
beside me, a hand on my shoulder, a voice in my ear…

“
There is nothing, there is
no one, nothing to fear, nothing to regret, nothing to seek,
nothing to find, nothing…”

Then Damian called my name, and I was lying
in bed with a cold cloth on my brow.

Chapter 4 – The Ungulion

Mom came in with a glass of ice water and
hovered by my bed as if she would stay. Damian gave her a rather
pointed glance, and to my surprise she withdrew with an
understanding nod. For some reason I felt strangely glad that
Damian was staying with me. It just seemed safer with him there. He
sat at the foot of my bed, leaning back against the wall, silent. I
watched him over the rim of the glass as I sipped the water,
letting it trickle down my parched throat. He wanted to say
something, I could tell. I wanted to say something too, but
couldn’t. I dropped my gaze to the faded hues of my handmade
quilt.

Finally I asked, “What happened to me?”

“
I don’t know. Mr. Dansy
got there before I did. He said he thought you might have passed
out.”

“
Did he say, was there
anyone else around?”

He frowned. “Not that he mentioned.
Why?”

“
I thought someone… Never
mind.”

I held the cup to my lips to avoid speaking.
Damian sighed and turned away.

“
Where did you get that
picture?”

I glanced at the wall where he was pointing.
A watercolor had been taped up, a badly drawn image of what looked
like a golden man or maybe a strange-looking angel surrounded by
stars. It had never been there before, but somehow its appearance
didn’t startle me.

“
I made it,” I said. “I
don’t remember when.”

“
Looks like it was
recently,” he said, nodding at the desk.

My paints lay open on a stack of papers,
next to a cup of brown water with a brush stuck in it wrong-way
down. I wondered why Damian had to be so observant.

“
Last night.”

“
Interesting picture for
someone to make in their sleep. I can’t imagine you woke up to do
it. You’re a better artist than that.”

“
No. I don’t even remember
making it.” I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes. “I
said something to you, earlier. I can’t remember what.”

“
I don’t either, if that’s
what you’re wondering. Lots of he’s and them’s and me’s in there,
you know?”

“
I need to know. I can’t
remember! It had just come back to me, and now I forgot
again.”

“
Don’t worry about it. It
was the heat, that’s all.”

I dragged my hand from my forehead and
slammed it on the bed. “No! Damian! I told you, I have to know. But
it’s like something wants me to forget.”

“
Mer, this is totally not
like you. You’ve been awfully close lately. Why won’t you just talk
to me?”

I turned over on my side and drew my knees
up, burying my face in the sheet.
I can’t…

Damian sighed and pushed himself off the
bed. “Was that all you needed?”

I don’t want to be alone…

I nodded into my pillow.

“
Well, whatever it was, I’m
sure you’ll remember if it’s that important. You know what they say
– don’t chase it. It’ll come to you.”

I shuddered.

Damian left me, and I closed my eyes. Time
wavered. And the strangest feeling crept over me, as if I were
somewhere else, but at the same time not…

Darkness first. After a moment I
distinguished a camp, flickering torches. Then the memories came
rushing back, and I sobbed with terror or relief or sadness – or
all three. Yatol and another guard stood in front of the tent that
had been mine. The guard seemed terrified, shifting his weight,
eyes darting back and forth. Yatol, jaw set, eyes like steel. Then
suddenly a low sound wreathed through the night, long and terrible.
I covered my ears and bowed my head, but still I saw them. The men
in the camp scattered, vanishing so quickly that I couldn’t see
where they had gone. The guard fled too. Only Yatol stayed, rooted
outside my tent, braced for battle. Something in his hand flashed
in the firelight, a small curved knife. That was it. That was the
only weapon he had.