Brother to Dragons, Companion to Owls - Jane Lindskold [60]
Obeying, I feel a soft breeze as Midline enters and hear soft grunts as Professor Isabella is helped in. There is the sound of metal on stone as Midline retrieves his grapple and then a cessation of outside noises as the window is slid shut. Abalone comes to crouch beside me, chortling nearly inaudibly when she finds a computer jack on the wall. Relieved some from guard duty, I turn to study the room.
Staring in pure disbelief, I realize that I know this room. The brass bedstead in one corner looks smaller than it did when Dylan and I played pirates on it and the ivory dresser is thick with dust, but this is my room. Unbelieving, I study the rainbow of dancing teddy bears that borders the room, remembering how when I couldn’t sleep they would sing to me.
The faint sound of those chiming voices reaches me, but I push it back. More important is remembering where various rooms were in relation to this one. Adult perspective threatens to scatter my memories like sparrows before a cat—then I sink back and let memory rise.
Yes. Dylan’s room is across the hall and to the right. Eleanora’s is beyond his, but it has been empty…Past, present, and future threaten to rise and flood me with their contradictions. Can Dylan be here at all?
Meanwhile, Abalone and Professor Isabella have been reviewing the data that is scrolling rapidly across Abalone’s screen. Midline stands out of sight of window or door, ready to take any who might have seen our entry and come looking. A sheathed knife waits below his hand, ready as its owner, but I know he will prefer empty hands to weapons.
Quietly, I rise, and inspect the room’s other door. If memory matches reality, this opens into a bathroom. Tension has made me suddenly desperate to pee and without word to the others, I gently turn the doorknob, remembering the struggle the task was for my smaller self.
Midline’s arm pulls me back.
“No exploring,” he growls in my ear.
I blush, realizing how stupid I nearly was, yet aware of the sotto voce clamor of past experience luring me to act like a child rather than an adult.
Sitting heavily on the floor, I pull Betwixt and Between from their bag and cradle them, inhaling their strawberry fragrance in slow, deep breaths.
They, in turn, appreciate being let out.
“Gee, it’s awfully dark in here,” Betwixt says.
“Dusty, too,” Between sneezes.
I start to hush them and then remember that only I can hear them. Instead, I whisper, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”
“You?” Betwixt seems confused for a moment. “No, but I see what you’re getting at. This is definitely the place.”
“I wonder if Dylan has the same room?” Between says, his voice rising with excitement. “That would mean he’s just down the hall! Do you think he’ll remember us?”
“Of course, he will,” Betwixt replies, but I can hear the nervous edge to his voice. “Weren’t we his best friend?”
Their colloquy is interrupted by a whisper from Abalone. I crawl over to join her and Professor Isabella by the door. Midline inches closer, but keeps his watchful station.
“We’ve dumped loads of data,” Abalone says, “too much and too fast to read now and my memory is at capacity. There were no maps or room assignments in what I skimmed, so we’ll have to do a quick physical search. Sarah, do you have any ideas?”
I nod. In the shielded beam of a light, I sketch what I remember of the corridor using the pile of the carpet for a canvas. Across from my room, just to the left, is a door to a stairwell. To the left the corridor jogs and there are several rooms. To the right, there is the large sunroom and one other: Dylan’s. Finishing my map, I place an X where Dylan should be.
Abalone studies my map. “Good detail, but things may have changed since you lived here.”
Midline coughs what I realize is a laugh. “And she may have flipped directions, like by the Jungle. What say we split? Me and the Professor go left, an’ you and Sarah, right. We won’t be so far apart for us not to holler