Part 34 (1/2)

Perrin grunted. ”I knew. There were enough outside rituals involved that I would have had to be dead not to know there was something living on the back of my head.”

”How old were you?”

”The previous host died when I was . . . thirteen of your human years. I was young, either way. Very young for the responsibility. Many were concerned that I would not be strong enough to bear the isolation.” He hesitated. ”You and I hadn't been inside each other's dreams for long.”

She tried to imagine the boy she had known, alone and shouldering the weight of keeping a sea monster asleep. Made her ill. ”We met off the coast of Maine. But the Kraken nests in these waters?”

”I was born and trained in the part of the ocean that the humans call the Atlantic. Near . . . Greenland, I think. But I was sent here. None of the local candidates were strong enough for the kra'a.” Perrin paused. ”I never knew it was Maine.”

He said that very quietly. Broke her heart a little. Perrin, lost in the world. Jenny ached at the idea. She couldn't even fathom what he had gone through, just to survive. Alone. Abandoned. Cut off from everything he had known.

Eight years ago. Jenny thought she should have felt something, but nothing stood out. Nothing at all. Eight years ago she had been in San Diego, exploiting family contacts in the United States Navy in order to work with, and learn from, the military's dolphin trainers. Wondering, sometimes stupidly, if any of those animals would be willing to chat with her grandfather about the existence of mermen.

You never did ask, she thought, watching Rik and Eddie play cards in the shade of the bridge. Clearly not eavesdropping.

”How did they know you would be strong enough for the kra'a?” she asked. ”Was there a test?”

”A Kraken nests in the waters between Iceland and Greenland. Children of a certain age are presented to the local Guardian, as I was. The kra'a told its host what I was, and so I was selected for training. When the Guardian here began dying, its kra'a somehow knew about me. And asked for my life.”

”Is that normal?”

”It happens,” he said, but there was something in his voice that made her think that it wasn't common at all.

Rare, whispered the kra'a inside her head. But there are times when rarity is necessary. We wanted his mind.

Jenny winced, touching her head. Perrin said, ”What is it?”

”It spoke to me,” she said, and only because she was looking at him did she see the split-second devastation that filled his face. Devastation and grief, and terrible aching loss.

Then, gone.

But she felt those emotions like a slow ache inside her mind, on the other side of the wall, and wondered what would happen if she tore down the barrier between them. If she let him flood her mind. If he would feel the kra'a again.

”Perrin,” she began, hesitantly. But before she could say more, the phone in her lap rang.

Jenny flinched, and tossed the oversized cell to Eddie. He answered quickly, was silent for several long moments, then settled that dark, old-man gaze on her. ”Ma'am. It's Roland. He'd like to speak with you.”

”Remind me,” she said. ”Is that old b.a.s.t.a.r.d still clairvoyant?”

”Um, yes.”

She flipped the phone the middle finger. ”So I guess he can see this, right now?”

Eddie wasn't standing all that close, but she very clearly heard the answering growl that came out of the phone. The young man bit back a smile. ”Yes, ma'am. I believe that's the case.”

Jenny smiled, though it felt crooked. ”Okay. I'll talk with him.”

Perrin cleared his throat. ”I met Roland. His sense of humor seems limited.”

”Sounds about right,” she said, and frowned. ”How did you get mixed up with this crowd?”

”A friend,” he said, then Eddie was there with the phone, and Jenny took it carefully, suddenly feeling like it was a live snake.

”h.e.l.lo, Roland,” she said quietly.

There was a moment of long silence, filled with heavy breathing. Until, finally, she heard a gruff voice say, ”You look like s.h.i.+t warmed over, sweetheart.”

”That would be an improvement over you, I think.”

”Funny,” he rasped. ”Been a while. I heard what happened at the old place.”

”Whatever,” she said tersely. ”You folk keep to your side of the fence, we stay on ours, and it works out fine.”

”Like h.e.l.l it does. Everything changed that day. If we're going to fight the Consortium, your side has to learn to trust us.”

”f.u.c.k that,” she told him, not caring that it was coa.r.s.e, and he was her elder. ”I'm done trusting family. And it's not like you're diving into the arms of A Priori.”

”Guess not,” he said softly. ”Priorities. Expectations.”

”Too many secrets,” she replied, keenly aware of everyone listening. ”Did you speak to my grandparents?”

”Nancy did it herself. But they already knew something was wrong. Maurice called them.”

Jenny hesitated, uncomfortable. ”So why did you want to talk to me?”

”Because I'm your uncle,” he said. ”And I'm sorry I can't kill my brother for what he did to you and yours.”

She had to escape, after that. Talking to Roland had been a mistake. His voice was too familiar, too close to his brother's. She told him about the island, and hearing her uncle on the radio-but that was all she could do. She had to give the phone back to Eddie and run.

Of course, the problem with running on a boat was that a girl could only go so far. Finding a place to lick all her wounds, almost impossible.

Jenny ended up in the cabin with its weak-legged cot and garlic scents. Sitting on the edge of the sagging mattress, staring at her feet. Feeling rather small and afraid, and useless.

The kra'a rested in her mind with all the presence of a nagging thought, and so she closed her eyes and nagged back, just a little.

Why did you choose me?

You were needed, said the kra'a. You were of us. You were of him.

And you missed him, she replied.

We were emptier without him. Emptier without you, through him. Taken before death. Dreams torn. Dreams should never be torn.

Jenny sensed a terrible aching emptiness inside the kra'a-there and gone-but that glimpse of its pain made her feel strange.

I understand emptiness, she told it. I understand.

We know, it whispered. We know, and we will not allow ourselves -we will not- -allow- -we will not allow ourselves to be- -emptied again.

”Never,” Jenny breathed, pressing a fist to her stomach.