Incarnate

Chapter 17 Footsteps

“NO SAM TONIGHT?” Sine asked from across the library table. It had only taken her an hour to bring it up. She’d made it sound casual, but I didn’t have to be five thousand years old to know she’d been waiting for an opening. Apparently silence was as good an opening as any.

I gave a one-shouldered shrug and turned the page of my book. Philosophy. Lots of guessing why people were reborn. Why some took a year to return, while others took up to ten. No one agreed on anything, but because these were where my questions began, this was what I had to read. “We don’t do everything together.”

“Don’t you? I don’t think I’ve seen you apart since the market.”

I’d been under the impression people in Heart valued their privacy. My alternate theory — that people already knew everything about one another, so they didn’t bother prying — sounded more likely now. I was the exception, of course. If I was involved even remotely, people asked questions. The afternoon I’d dragged Sam outside the city so he could show me all the nearby geysers and hot springs, gossip had spread like wildfire. I still couldn’t figure out what made fumaroles so scandalous, but maybe people were desperate.

“I’m just surprised he’s not with you, that’s all. You two have been spending as much time here as Whit, always off in your own corners, studying.”

I flashed a smile. “He said he wasn’t sleeping well and wanted to rest this evening. Everything should be back to normal soon.” Maybe. He hadn’t actually said anything. I’d made him stay in.

“Oh, good. I hope he feels more rested soon.” She ducked over her book again, pen scraping against the paper grain.

“I hope so, too.”

We worked in silence for a few minutes more, time dripping by like water from a leaky tap. But I couldn’t focus on the philosophy book in front of me. The author seemed conflicted on his views about Janan, whether he was real and responsible for reincarnation, or whether humans were doing it on their own, by virtue of being human.

“Sine?”

She glanced up, eyebrow raised.

“Do you believe in Janan? Do you think he created everyone and reincarnates them every lifetime?”

She lowered her pen and sat back. “Sometimes I think I don’t, simply because it annoys Meuric and Deborl. But honestly, I want to believe we humans aren’t at this alone, perpetually reincarnated in a world where dragons, centaurs, griffins, and rocs are always trying to kill us.” She shrugged and found my gaze. “Like you, I want to believe there is a beginning to all this. Life.”

My beginning was so much more recent, yet no one could tell me what had happened. People who’d been there.

“What about the walls? Do they feel strange to you?”

“The heartbeat?” She shook her head. “Everyone can feel it, certainly, but it’s comforting, and part of what makes me want to believe in Janan and his promise to return.”

Or maybe he’d never left.

The heartbeat certainly didn’t feel comforting to me. Sam seemed to think it was funny or cute how I tried to avoid touching the white stone, but it gave me the sensation of worms crawling beneath my skin.

“Thanks,” I said, turning back to the book with a sigh. I really wanted to find someone else who didn’t like the walls and see if they had any thoughts on it, but there seemed a definite connection between my newness and the creepy feeling.

“Perhaps philosophy and guesswork aren’t where you should be looking.” Sine eyed my book. “I never thought Deborl’s views were all that astute, anyway.”

I checked the cover of the book. Sure enough, Deborl, a Councilor who looked younger than me, had written it over sixty quindecs ago. Astute or not, these views were almost a thousand years old. I closed the book and slid it toward the middle of the table. “Maybe you’re right. I thought the answers were in the distant past, but I could be wrong.”

She slipped a marker into her book and nodded for me to continue.

Thoughts collated as I gazed around the dim library. “I know Li reasonably well.” Better than I wanted. “She’s a warrior. When I misbehaved as a child, she told me about the times she killed dragons. Before lasers and air drones were invented.” Having seen dragons recently, I could finally appreciate what a feat that was.

“Li has always been formidable.”

No doubt. “What about Menehem?”

“Not quite as formidable.” She stood, using the table to brace herself. “A brilliant chemist. I didn’t know him well, partially because we could never comprehend a word the other said.” She chuckled. I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not.

I followed her around a maze of shelves on the main floor. Mahogany and glass shimmered in the lamplight, and the room smelled of wood polish and pronghorn leather. “A warrior and a scientist. I don’t understand how you get me out of that.”

“Because you love music?”

I opted not to argue about a nosoul’s capacity for love. This time.

“Some things are inherited, certainly. Physical features. You look a lot like Menehem when I saw him last, actually, with the auburn hair and freckles. You show your mother’s fierceness and your father’s intelligence, but some things, like music and poetry, are passions of the soul.”

I liked that. Sam had been born to farmers and woodworkers and glassblowers. Armande, his current father, was a baker. While Sam had learned hundreds of things out of curiosity and desire to help the community, he always came back to music.

Perhaps, if I was going to be reincarnated at the end of this life, I’d find myself similarly drawn, because there was music in my head, which sang me to sleep at night. It wasn’t Sam’s music or anyone else’s. That probably made it mine. What a frightening thought.

“We’re looking for Menehem’s diaries?” I asked as we came to that area of the library.

Sine swept her hand across the nook created by bookcases. “Since I cannot tell you about him, we might as well read Menehem’s words. It’s unfortunate he left Range so shortly after you were born.”

Yeah, unfortunate he was so ashamed he couldn’t even stay to help Li, who didn’t want to care for me either.

I touched a lamp, illuminating the alcove. Two thousand books waited in their shelves while I searched the spines for the home of the parent who’d abandoned me.

While there were a few older volumes still in place, the newer ones, the ones I’d have needed, were missing. His diaries had abandoned me, too.

I swore, drawing a look from Sine. “Sorry,” I said. “Would he have taken his books when he left?”

She scowled at the empty shelves. “It’s very unlikely. Books are heavy, and he had a lot of them.”

“And there are other copies.” Sam had shown me how to find digital copies. Well, he’d asked Whit to show me. “Will you do me a favor while I check the digital archives?”

Sine nodded.

“Look for Li’s diaries. I don’t need to read any — not right now, anyway — but I’m wondering if they’re still there.”

She gave me a queer look, but nodded again and headed deeper into the diaries section while I made my way out. If she hadn’t guessed my suspicions already, it wouldn’t take long.

I didn’t mind her knowing, either, but it felt weird to tell a Councilor I thought someone — maybe one of her friends — was trying to keep me from investigating my origins by removing the books I needed. Other than Sam, the only people who knew about my quest were on the Council.

The digital archives could be accessed in consoles upstairs, toward the alcove where Sam and I had watched archived videos. On my way up, I tapped on lamps and made a mental list of who might have taken Menehem’s diaries.

Well, anyone could have taken them, but it was the Council I didn’t trust. Most of them were against me. Antha, Frase, and Deborl didn’t seem to despise me, but I doubted they cared whether I lived or died.

Sine was on my side. I’d liked her even before I found out she’d been Sam’s mother in their previous lives. She’d died during childbirth, and was reincarnated when he was three. As a result, he’d spent his teenage years being mothered by a girl younger than him. Then she’d outlived him, and when he was reborn into this body, she was old enough to be his grandmother. I found it endlessly amusing and confusing.

As for Meuric, I couldn’t tell. He was always pleasant, but he made me uncomfortable. He watched me all the time, and always waited to hear what others thought or wanted before deciding what to do with me, like his own ideas wouldn’t be approved.

That left half the Council I didn’t know well enough, and therefore couldn’t trust. Any of them might be the one sabotaging my efforts — if there was any sabotaging after all.

I sat at the first data console and pressed the power button. When it gave a soft whir and a cursor blinked at me, I typed “Menehem.”

Hundreds of diaries appeared, most marked as lab notes and other scientific things. Perhaps, during some of all that free time Sam had scheduled for me, I’d have a peek at those. For now, I narrowed the search to more personal things.

I half expected the console to refuse access, but it offered diaries up until a few years before I was born, which had been the 330th Year of Songs. That put his latest in the 329th Year of Stars. He’d probably finished it and left it for archiving, and taken his current diary with him.

Still, this could be useful.

I read until the stairs creaked and Sine sat next to me. “Find anything?”

“Nothing quite like reading about how your parents barely cared whether the other existed.” I forced a smile. “The Council gave them permission to have a child, so they started planning it. Apparently Menehem calculated everything, because this was years before I was born.”

Sine snorted. “Yes, that sounds like him.”

“Anyway, he seemed more interested in a project for work, but there aren’t any details. I may have to look into his science journals.” I shrugged and tried to pretend I hadn’t expected anything more. “What about you?”

“Many of Li’s personal journals are gone, but if you found Menehem’s on the console, you’ll probably find hers as well.”

I sat back in my chair, arms crossed. If someone had been trying to keep me from looking into my origins, they’d have been more thorough. But if someone wasn’t trying to stop me, they were researching me.

That was an unsettling thought. Everyone else already knew more about me than I did.

“Goodness, it’s late.” Sine slyly checked the time. “I’d better head out.”

I managed something resembling a laugh. “Sam could use some lessons in subtlety from you.”

“Oh, I know. Don’t you think I’ve tried? Unfortunately, I think I’m too subtle about it.” She winked and grinned. “We can resume this research tomorrow, if you like. It’s a new direction from endless philosophy.”

“I agree. Thanks.” I switched off the electronics as we headed downstairs. Before I lost my nerve, I said, “Let’s say I have a friend who hasn’t been sleeping well.”

Sine hmm-ed. “I’ll pretend I don’t know you’re talking about Sam. Go on.”

“I’m worried about him. The only times he seems like himself are during music lessons and practice. He groans in his sleep half the night.” Once I’d gotten up to check on him, but as soon as I stopped by his door, the light flicked on and he shuffled into the washroom. I’d waited, but he didn’t emerge.

At least he’d stopped sneaking out every night, but I suspected it had more to do with how wretched he felt, and not… why he’d been sneaking to begin with.

Sine cocked her head as we stepped outside to the library. “And you want to know how to fix it?”

“I want to”—I wrapped my scarf around my neck and frowned into the darkness—“do something. Help him. He helped me.”

Her smile turned wistful. “He’ll sort it out eventually. Focus on your studies. He wouldn’t want you so distracted, especially with your first progress report coming up next week.”

Progress reports were the last thing I wanted to worry about. “What happened to him? Something with dragons?”

“Ana, if you don’t want to ask him, check his diaries. See how they end.” Her tone stayed flat, as much of a warning as I’d get from her. She always tried to be nice, but I’d upset her now.

I twisted my flashlight until a beam shot out, illuminating cobblestones as the library door shut. “I’m going to help him. Somehow. Anyone who thinks a progress report is more important can lick the bottom of my shoe. After my turn cleaning the pig rSine made a face. “You’re learning that from Stef, aren’t you?”

“I’ve gone along with the Council’s demands.” My breath misted on the chill air. “I like learning things. I probably would have asked, regardless of the Council’s instructions. But I’m just one nosoul. The only one. What does it matter to you if I know the best time for growing rice? What is the Council so afraid I’ll do if you don’t keep me busy?”

She just stared at me, wrapped in the armor of her coat and hood. “Curfew. Better hurry.”

Blinking away tears of frustration, which threatened to freeze on my eyelashes, I spun toward South Avenue and walked as quickly as I could. There was a shorter way Sam sometimes took us, but it involved more turns on unfamiliar roads, by unfamiliar houses.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been so harsh to Sine, but now that I considered my own words, it was a good question. Were they afraid of me?

I tried to imagine what Sam would say, were he in a mood to talk. The people of Heart had been… how they were… for five thousand years. They knew one another, and could more or less predict what everyone would do in certain situations. But I was a new thing. Unknown. I’d been tucked away for eighteen years, and they hadn’t had to think about me, but now I was back, filled up with my own thoughts and opinions.

What would I do?

Right now, I just wanted to help Sam. And, come masquerade day, I wanted to be invisible. Just a few hours of no one knowing me, judging me, and waiting to see if I would destroy everything.

I counted roads until I found the one that led to Sam’s. The flashlight illuminated nothing unusual, just my breath on the air and a few flakes of snow swirling on the breeze. I shivered as trees rustled, as though preparing themselves for blankets.

My new shoes tapped on the cobblestones in a steady one-two. A three-four came from behind me, muffled with attempts at stealth, but with the whole city hushed and waiting for snow, every sound mattered.

Perhaps it was nothing, just someone else going home late, but when I glanced over my shoulder, I couldn’t see anything, not even a shadow. Darkness thickened, as complete as the should-be silence. If I turned my flashlight behind me, they’d know I was aware I wasn’t alone.

I almost did it, ready to yell for whoever to stop sneaking behind me, but then I remembered Li at the market, and dread crept inside me with the cold. Choosing the cowardly route, I walked faster, bringing my scarf over my face so the chill didn’t dry my throat.

The footsteps followed me all the way to Sam’s road, and by then my heart had raced ahead of me, taking my weakness with it. I spun and swung my flashlight beam across the street, but the thin glow met only a dusty veil of snowflakes and darkness. Brush hissed along the side of the road, but I was too slow to see if it was anything more than a deer.

No, I’d definitely heard footsteps. I stared toward where the pine needles still whispered in someone’s wake, but nothing happened. For a few minutes, I stood in the middle of the road, trying to decide if it would be worth going after my pursuer.

Visions of someone leaping out at me made me stay where I was. Going after someone unknown in the dark and cold and almost-snow — that wasn’t brave. That was exceedingly stupid.

After straining my ears a minute longer, stretching to hear something other than my own breath and heartbeat, I ran the rest of the way down the road as fast as I could, repeating to myself that facing anyone would have been stupid. Running away was smart.

Fleeing like a mouse with a cat on its heels was smart, but definitely not brave. I hated letting someone get to me like that.

When I finally reached the walk up to Sam’s house, I slowed to breathe. The last thing Sam needed now was to hear me stagger in, afraid of footsteps in the dark. Footsteps that hadn’t even done anything.

Straining all my senses for the unfamiliar, I crept up the snow-dusted walkway and into the house. The parlor was dark as I closed the door behind me, careful not to let it click too loudly. I turned off my flashlight and rested it on the table, closing my eyes to let them adjust before I moved farther into the room.

If anyone had been following me, they weren’t anymore. And I was safe with Sam — though maybe not right now.

He was sprawled on the sofa, book fallen from one hand while the other rested on his chest, which rose and fell with long, steady breaths. I didn’t fight my relief as I crossed the room and knelt beside him. When he tilted his face toward me and smiled, then mumbled, “I waited up for you,” I dared to think he’d be okay again.

“Come on,” I whispered, putting his book on the table so he didn’t trip. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He mm-hmmed and let me drag him to his feet. We stumbled upstairs and into his room, crowded with dark shapes. Wardrobe, shelves, harp, and bed. Books waited like traps across the floor, surprising, given how tidy he usually was. He must have been feeling more awful than I’d realized. I nudged them out of the way with my toe before guiding Sam to the near side of his bed.

He sat with a sleepy grunt and sway, and I steadied him with my hands on his shoulders. “Are you sure you want to sleep in your clothes?” Not that I knew where he kept his nightclothes.

“Yeah.” He dropped to his side and tugged blankets over his waist. “Thank you, Ana. Glad you’re home.” He squeezed my wrist and was asleep again without waiting for a response.

“Sleep well.” Before I lost my nerve, I leaned over, kissed his cheek, and breathed in his scent. Herbs, like what he’d given me the night he saved me from Rangedge Lake. “Tomorrow will be better. You’ll see.” I tiptoed through the gauntlet of books on his floor, glanced at his sleeping figure one more time, and sighed.

On the way to my bedroom, I paused by the stairs, on the balcony overlooking the parlor, and tiptoed to the front door. Sam didn’t usually, because everyone knew and trusted one another — sort of — but tonight, thinking about someone following me through the streets of Heart, I locked the door.