Page 88 of For the Strange and Surprising

Connak shakes his head as he asks, “Why does that make you smile?”

I shrug. “My more recent memories of Penny are clouded. The memories from our early childhood were happier times, even when we were sick.”

Talodus is cautious as he speaks. “Can I see them?”

I sit up and spin around, pulling the back of my t-shirt up.

“Oh,” he whispers in surprise. “I see why you asked.”

I peek over my shoulder at him. “Why?”

“You know the puncture wounds you saw at the clinic?” Connak inquires, tugging the side of his shirt up to show his hip. “They look like this when they heal.”

“And the scars made you second guess where I came from?” I hesitantly question.

“No.” He frowns as he shakes his head. “But other people will wonder. I wanted to know so we can prevent that from happening.”

I collapse onto the bed, my head cushioned on the pillow as I glance up at them. My stomach flutters at the thought of having them defend me; however, I don’t expect the Mongrels’ reluctance to disappear any time soon.

“If they doubt me, then that’s on them.” I yawn, the storm making me drowsy. “There are plenty of people who know the truth.”

“You’re tired. You should sleep,” Connak says with a soft smile.

“We can make it to my apartment without blowing away,” Talodus jokes. “You can stay with me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Just wait it out here,” I tell them. “This bed is big enough for six people. I think the three of us will be fine for the night.”

Connak snorts. “You only think that because you’re so tiny.”

“I can touch Connak from here without stretching,” Talodus informs me.

“Don’t,” I mumble. “I can’t hold my eyes open, and I want to watch.”

I fall asleep to them laughing at me while I worry about having dirty dreams.

I’m not asleep for long, though.

The storm rages outside, but I feel the overwhelming sense of someone calling my name, someone needing me. It’s not malicious; it’s lost and searching for calm.

It’s me.

The water is reeling me in, hooks in my chest dragging me into awareness.

I roll to my back, listening to their steady breathing. I wait a moment, then crawl out of bed. My footsteps are inaudible as I slink across the room, bypassing my shoes. Then I pause on the threshold, wondering if I should wake them up. I sigh as I leave alone, silently slip out the door.

I move on autopilot through the edge of the village and beyond the forest. I follow the tug of the water against my soul until I stand on the sand between two boulders.

My past and my present collide.

Isolde sits in my father’s jon boat on the shore, soaked by the torrential rain.

My decision sweeps through me, a tsunami of emotions wrecking my mind.

But I know what I need to do, what I want to do.

I wonder if Kismet is an understood concept here.

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