It’s a quiet night. No one quite seems to want to bring up any of the serious topics, and the small talk is casual. I stay in the kitchen for as long as I can before the evening falls to night and escape to the front porch with Bat. Last night seems like ages ago. At least I should get some sleep this time around.
Yvonne and Anya are inside playing a card game with the siblings, betting with candy. If we were anywhere else, I’d join. But everyone seems to be making an effort to be pleasant to me, particularly with Masyn’s apology, so I’ll head inside in a bit. Trying seems like the best option to take.
Bat’s quiet too, ears twitching at the evening sounds, often glancing back at the house. Finally, he asks, “How many arguments do you think we missed?”
I snort humorlessly, picking a blade of grass and shredding it with my fingertips. “Evidently one, at least. I don’t think it was Masyn’s idea to apologize. Zane and Lalia probably gave them grief.”
“Did it make you feel better?” Bat asks. “That he said that?”
“A little,” I admit, quietly.
The door creaks. I expect one of my humans, but when I glance back it’s Kyra staring at me, half out the door. She probably expected me to be in my ship.
I nearly ignore her, but instead ask, “Would you like me to move?”
“No.” She shuts the door, taking a single step forward so she’s almost alongside me, arms folded, leaning against the opposite railing. She looks like she’s warming up for a speech, but I can’t tell which kind it’s going to be. Something she didn’t want to say in front of her kids, anyway.
It takes an awkward silence for her to actually speak, “You believe it, don’t you.” It isn’t a question.
I can’t stop my grimace. “I don’t know.”
Momentarily, she eyes Bat. “But you want to.”
I don’t answer. I don’t know what I want, especially not here. Masyn’s change of attitude makes it more confusing, not less.
“I suppose we’ve made that idea less appealing.”
Well, I guess she got chewed out, too. I don’t know what to say, and settle on, “Like I told Masyn, I realize I’m not what you expected when you asked Zane and La to bring me here.”
The twist in her expression is difficult to read in the dark. “None of this is what any of us expected. Our children were more stubborn than we were, I suppose. We’re ashamed of that. I suppose we didn’t really consider it would be hard on you, as well, asking you to come here.”
I shrug, awkward. Somehow, it’s worse when they’re considering my feelings so much. Outside of being terrified to meet them, my feelings weren’t the ones I was considering in this trip.
She says, “You really want to you know, though, don’t you?”
Are they trying to talk me out of it now. “I’ve been lied to about something or another my entire life. I’d like to know where I came from. Especially now that’s it been brought very obviously to my attention. What are you trying to say?”
Her lips press down. She has a kind face. A mother’s face, I suppose, though I wouldn’t know what that looks like.
“It’s going to wreck them if they’re wrong.”
Ah. She’s not incorrect. “Yeah, but it’ll probably drive them mad if they never know. Pick one, I suppose.”
She nods, whispering, “You’re right. I wasn’t saying you shouldn’t find out, we all need you to, I just want you to know. We’re not going to be with them after they leave here, you are.”
I didn’t expect agreement. It hurts. And I don’t know when I became responsible for the two humans, but I find it impossible to resent the burden.
“And what will you do if it’s true?”
“Not come back here.”
She blinks. At least, she has the decency not to act surprised or insulted. “Because of how we’ve acted.”
“No. I don’t blame you for that, really. I didn’t really believe it even an inch until the coincidence started sounding too…much.” And Audra said it might be possible. “But I’m not stupid. Well, not entirely. You don’t really want me here unless you have to have me. You’ll only force yourself to want me if it turns out to be true. I’ve had enough of people being fake-nice to me for one lifetime already. I appreciate your kindness, but we both know you can barely stand to look at me.”
The muscles around her eyes bunch. It’s difficult to tell in this lack of light, but it nearly seems as if she might be on the verge of tears. Which only makes me feel worse about letting Zane drag me here. They wanted me to come here, but I should’ve known they didn’t want me.
“I’ll leave in the morning,” I mumble. “I’m sorry I came here.”
After a moment, she says, “I hope for their sake and yours you are who they think you are. You seem to care for them. Masyn was watching you and Zane talk the other morning.”
I stare at the ground. Apparently, I’m pretty obvious.
“We wouldn’t have to force ourselves,” she says, and escapes for the house.
I rub my eyes and put Bat on my shoulder, heading for another walk out in the trees before I can let her words upset me.
* * *
The night is spent in much the same way the first was, but I’m joined in my ship by the princesses this time. Sometime in the middle of the night, I feel the bed dip, and Yvonne lays alongside me, pressed against my back. She doesn’t speak, and I think she’s attempting not to wake me, so I don’t shift away. Eventually, her breathing evens, and I can feel her heartbeat against my back. It takes a long time to fall back to sleep.
In the early morning, I wander out in the misty grasses, enjoying the quiet. I snoop around the back of the house, curious to get a better look. The small barn is about half filled with cut firewood, more of it dried but unspilt. Plenty of places have mechanical cutters of some sort, but they have an axe stuck in a stump.
How very old fashioned.
The back of the house has nothing of interest. I could wander back to the canyon, I suppose. See it in daylight. But I’m not in the mood. Plus, if Zane and Lalia decide they’re good to leave I want to get out of here as soon as possible.
I’m not hungry enough to make food, and there’s no reason to go inside the house their house. I might wake someone up.
Making my way back to the shed, I nudge open the door and grab the axe and some of the wood. I don’t suspect they need my help, and I wouldn’t like to find one of them staring in here at me, but it’s a physical activity that won’t take too much thought and might actually make me a fraction tired. I didn’t sleep well. I wouldn’t exactly like to be running for my life again, but I’m getting antsy.
My barely-healed fingertips are a little sore from clinging to that tree yesterday, and my temple is still irritating me, but doesn’t bug me too much.
I stack the cut wood away from their other pile in case they don’t want it mixed for whatever reason.
Fifteen minutes and half the stack of logs later, the barn door creaks open. I start, lost in my own thoughts. Masyn blinks at me and the pile I’ve accumulated. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“Did I wake you?” I ask for lack of anything better to say.
“No, didn’t hear it until I came outside. I might have to hire you for that, you’re faster than me.”
“Synthetic muscles,” I say before I can consider that might not be the best thing to bring up, kicking one of the pieces of firewood absently.
“Why don’t you…uhh…we’re making breakfast, do you eat?”
Something like a hysterical laugh tries to bubble up. I haven’t eaten in front of him, have I? Last night, I didn’t pick anything up off the table. And I remember Lalia—what feels like years ago—cracking up when Bat and I made chicken soup right after we tracked her down.
“Um, yes. I eat.”
“And your…animal?” He isn’t saying it like an insult. “What does he eat?”
I squint at the ground. Is the change in attitude purely because Zane and La gave them greif? “Anything he wants, really.”
“Ah, well. Um. You two can come inside for breakfast. If you want.”
He makes a run for it, and I stare at the empty door. What the hell did Zane and Lalia say?
If they’ve been talking about me, I can’t imagine anything I’ve done in the past few weeks being enough to change their ideas. If they’re scared of me, they’re scared of me. If anything, if they’ve been filling them in about me, I think they might be more freaked out.
Suspicious, I stack what’s left of my mess and head to the house.
It’s a quiet night. No one quite seems to want to bring up any of the serious topics, and the small talk is casual. I stay in the kitchen for as long as I can before the evening falls to night and escape to the front porch with Bat. Last night seems like ages ago. At least I should get some sleep this time around.
Yvonne and Anya are inside playing a card game with the siblings, betting with candy. If we were anywhere else, I’d join. But everyone seems to be making an effort to be pleasant to me, particularly with Masyn’s apology, so I’ll head inside in a bit. Trying seems like the best option to take.
Bat’s quiet too, ears twitching at the evening sounds, often glancing back at the house. Finally, he asks, “How many arguments do you think we missed?”
I snort humorlessly, picking a blade of grass and shredding it with my fingertips. “Evidently one, at least. I don’t think it was Masyn’s idea to apologize. Zane and Lalia probably gave them grief.”
“Did it make you feel better?” Bat asks. “That he said that?”
“A little,” I admit, quietly.
The door creaks. I expect one of my humans, but when I glance back it’s Kyra staring at me, half out the door. She probably expected me to be in my ship.
I nearly ignore her, but instead ask, “Would you like me to move?”
“No.” She shuts the door, taking a single step forward so she’s almost alongside me, arms folded, leaning against the opposite railing. She looks like she’s warming up for a speech, but I can’t tell which kind it’s going to be. Something she didn’t want to say in front of her kids, anyway.
It takes an awkward silence for her to actually speak, “You believe it, don’t you.” It isn’t a question.
I can’t stop my grimace. “I don’t know.”
Momentarily, she eyes Bat. “But you want to.”
I don’t answer. I don’t know what I want, especially not here. Masyn’s change of attitude makes it more confusing, not less.
“I suppose we’ve made that idea less appealing.”
Well, I guess she got chewed out, too. I don’t know what to say, and settle on, “Like I told Masyn, I realize I’m not what you expected when you asked Zane and La to bring me here.”
The twist in her expression is difficult to read in the dark. “None of this is what any of us expected. Our children were more stubborn than we were, I suppose. We’re ashamed of that. I suppose we didn’t really consider it would be hard on you, as well, asking you to come here.”
I shrug, awkward. Somehow, it’s worse when they’re considering my feelings so much. Outside of being terrified to meet them, my feelings weren’t the ones I was considering in this trip.
She says, “You really want to you know, though, don’t you?”
Are they trying to talk me out of it now. “I’ve been lied to about something or another my entire life. I’d like to know where I came from. Especially now that’s it been brought very obviously to my attention. What are you trying to say?”
Her lips press down. She has a kind face. A mother’s face, I suppose, though I wouldn’t know what that looks like.
“It’s going to wreck them if they’re wrong.”
Ah. She’s not incorrect. “Yeah, but it’ll probably drive them mad if they never know. Pick one, I suppose.”
She nods, whispering, “You’re right. I wasn’t saying you shouldn’t find out, we all need you to, I just want you to know. We’re not going to be with them after they leave here, you are.”
I didn’t expect agreement. It hurts. And I don’t know when I became responsible for the two humans, but I find it impossible to resent the burden.
“And what will you do if it’s true?”
“Not come back here.”
She blinks. At least, she has the decency not to act surprised or insulted. “Because of how we’ve acted.”
“No. I don’t blame you for that, really. I didn’t really believe it even an inch until the coincidence started sounding too…much.” And Audra said it might be possible. “But I’m not stupid. Well, not entirely. You don’t really want me here unless you have to have me. You’ll only force yourself to want me if it turns out to be true. I’ve had enough of people being fake-nice to me for one lifetime already. I appreciate your kindness, but we both know you can barely stand to look at me.”
The muscles around her eyes bunch. It’s difficult to tell in this lack of light, but it nearly seems as if she might be on the verge of tears. Which only makes me feel worse about letting Zane drag me here. They wanted me to come here, but I should’ve known they didn’t want me.
“I’ll leave in the morning,” I mumble. “I’m sorry I came here.”
After a moment, she says, “I hope for their sake and yours you are who they think you are. You seem to care for them. Masyn was watching you and Zane talk the other morning.”
I stare at the ground. Apparently, I’m pretty obvious.
“We wouldn’t have to force ourselves,” she says, and escapes for the house.
I rub my eyes and put Bat on my shoulder, heading for another walk out in the trees before I can let her words upset me.
* * *
The night is spent in much the same way the first was, but I’m joined in my ship by the princesses this time. Sometime in the middle of the night, I feel the bed dip, and Yvonne lays alongside me, pressed against my back. She doesn’t speak, and I think she’s attempting not to wake me, so I don’t shift away. Eventually, her breathing evens, and I can feel her heartbeat against my back. It takes a long time to fall back to sleep.
In the early morning, I wander out in the misty grasses, enjoying the quiet. I snoop around the back of the house, curious to get a better look. The small barn is about half filled with cut firewood, more of it dried but unspilt. Plenty of places have mechanical cutters of some sort, but they have an axe stuck in a stump.
How very old fashioned.
The back of the house has nothing of interest. I could wander back to the canyon, I suppose. See it in daylight. But I’m not in the mood. Plus, if Zane and Lalia decide they’re good to leave I want to get out of here as soon as possible.
I’m not hungry enough to make food, and there’s no reason to go inside the house their house. I might wake someone up.
Making my way back to the shed, I nudge open the door and grab the axe and some of the wood. I don’t suspect they need my help, and I wouldn’t like to find one of them staring in here at me, but it’s a physical activity that won’t take too much thought and might actually make me a fraction tired. I didn’t sleep well. I wouldn’t exactly like to be running for my life again, but I’m getting antsy.
My barely-healed fingertips are a little sore from clinging to that tree yesterday, and my temple is still irritating me, but doesn’t bug me too much.
I stack the cut wood away from their other pile in case they don’t want it mixed for whatever reason.
Fifteen minutes and half the stack of logs later, the barn door creaks open. I start, lost in my own thoughts. Masyn blinks at me and the pile I’ve accumulated. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“Did I wake you?” I ask for lack of anything better to say.
“No, didn’t hear it until I came outside. I might have to hire you for that, you’re faster than me.”
“Synthetic muscles,” I say before I can consider that might not be the best thing to bring up, kicking one of the pieces of firewood absently.
“Why don’t you…uhh…we’re making breakfast, do you eat?”
Something like a hysterical laugh tries to bubble up. I haven’t eaten in front of him, have I? Last night, I didn’t pick anything up off the table. And I remember Lalia—what feels like years ago—cracking up when Bat and I made chicken soup right after we tracked her down.
“Um, yes. I eat.”
“And your…animal?” He isn’t saying it like an insult. “What does he eat?”
I squint at the ground. Is the change in attitude purely because Zane and La gave them greif? “Anything he wants, really.”
“Ah, well. Um. You two can come inside for breakfast. If you want.”
He makes a run for it, and I stare at the empty door. What the hell did Zane and Lalia say?
If they’ve been talking about me, I can’t imagine anything I’ve done in the past few weeks being enough to change their ideas. If they’re scared of me, they’re scared of me. If anything, if they’ve been filling them in about me, I think they might be more freaked out.
Suspicious, I stack what’s left of my mess and head to the house.
