have come after you later, if we'd let him live. This creature was too dangerous for mercy. “
'I decide on the Royal Four's actions, Rath. Not you,' Zan said.
'Zan is right,' Vilandra said, pointing toward the ruined skull of the man Rath had just slain. She sounded disappointed that she'd had to take the king's side in this dispute. 'If this… creature still lived, we might have pulled something useful from out of its mind. “
An idea occurred to Ava then. Walking carefully around the wreckage of the crates and the opened gestation pods, she crossed to the body of the white-garbed man whom the knife-wielder had slain. Forcing aside the sick feeling in her gut, she knelt beside the body and touched its still-warm forehead.
Rath didn't seem to notice what Ava was doing. 'Forgive me,' he said to Vilandra in a sneering tone. 'It didn't occur to me to negotiate with the local wildlife. “
Ava looked down at her hands. Like Rath's, they now glowed with raw, unfocused power. We are still but children on this world. It will probably take us some time to master our Antarian gifts again.
But she knew there wouldn't be any time for that. They were out of the safety of their gestation pods, ready or not. They were naked and defenseless in a strange place, and they needed help now.
As carefully as she could, Ava reached out with her mind, gently probing whatever wisps remained of the dead man's thoughts.
It was as though she'd fallen into an erupting volcano. Though his body no longer breathed, his brain, now in the midst of shutting down, was a frenetic beehive of activity. She was caught in a whirlpool of memories. School, language, parents, lovers, children, music, history, maps… The onslaught was relentless, a gale-force blizzard of disjointed thought. A brilliant light silently called out to her, tugging at her with an inexplicable gravity. She screamed, suddenly fearful that the dying man was dragging her to her own destruction. Her mind scrabbled desperately away from the light, seeking the shelter of darkness.
When she came back to herself, Ava was sitting on the floor. Zan, Vilandra, and Rath knelt at her side, concern etched across their youthful-yet-ancient faces.
After glancing at the still form of the man whose death had nearly taken her life as well, Ava looked questioningly toward Zan.
He shook his head sadly, then spoke in the Old High Tongue. 'I feel that I should be able to, but I can't heal him. “
'I hope his death was not in vain,' she replied.
Rath scowled. 'This world is probably filled with death. Best to get used to it now. “
'What were you able to learn?' Zan asked Ava, ignoring Rath's harshness.
Willing her chin not to tremble, Ava took Zan's and Vilandra's hands. Vilandra and Zan also clasped hands with Rath, completing the circle. 'I think I've absorbed at least one of the main local languages. Let me pass it along to all of you.' Ava reached out with her mind. She felt a charge of indescribable energy coursing away from her body, through her friends, and back again.
Zan nodded, and the foursome released one another's hands. When he spoke after a long pause, it was in the tongue Ava had heard the two dead men speak. 'I think we all know this place now… this New York City… as well as any of the locals do. “
Only then did Ava notice that all four of them were now wearing clothing similar to that of the leather-clad man whom Rath had killed. She glanced inquisitively at Rath, who still wore the slain man's garments. He shrugged and looked embarrassed.
Also in this world's native tongue, Vilandra said, 'Before you woke up, Rath transmuted that nasty tarp you were wearing into something a little more appropriate for us all… or at least he tried to. “
Zan examined his own leather-and-denim ensemble, which Ava thought made him look both dangerous and vaguely ridiculous. He seemed to have forgiven Rath for his earlier indiscretion. 'I'm not sure how well we're going to fit in here, dressed like this. “
'Give me a break,' Rath said. 'A minute ago, I didn't even know I had that power. You were expecting Madison Avenue on my very first try?' Ava was impressed at how quickly Rath had picked up some of the local idioms.
Ava suddenly remembered an image she had seen in the knifed man's dying mind. Panic surged within her. 'Other people are going to be coming here soon. Cowork-ers. Customers. We have to get out of this place. Now. “
Zan pointed to the wreckage on the floor. 'We can't just leave the pods lying here. Someone might trace them to us. “
'So?' Vilandra asked.
'There is too much we don't yet understand about this world, sister. We should take no unnecessary risks. “
'We'll just take the pods along with us,' Ava said, knowing how lame that sounded, Zan's approval notwithstanding. After all, the pods were large and heavy, at least in comparison with four small, relatively weak bodies.
Rath threw up his hands and glared at Ava. 'Fine. Where do you propose we drag the pods off to? We can't exactly check into the Waldorf. “
Ava suddenly felt more of the dead man's memories stirring and moving within the depths of her mind. All at once, they came into sharper focus. Turning to Zan, she said, 'There's a big storm drain in the back parking lot. It leads down into the sewers. We could drag the pods down there and keep them out of sight. “
Vilandra looked horrified. 'The sewers. “
'It's better than having more of those taking an interest in us,' Ava said, pointing at the dead knife-man. 'If we leave the pods here, that's almost sure to happen. “
Rath smiled savagely. Raising a glowing fist, he said, 'Bring 'em on. “
'The sewers?' Vilandra repeated. 'You can't be serious. The freaking sewers? “
Zan began pushing one of the gestation pods toward the open door. Apparently satisfied that it was far lighter than it appeared, he turned back to face the group. 'If others are coming, let's avoid confrontation,' he said, to Ava's immense relief. 'The sewers it is. “
Both Vilandra and Rath made sour faces, but didn't argue further.
'You the man, Zan,' Rath said.
Ava found his unpleasant smirk uncomfortably similar to that of the predator he had slain. Bad enough they were encased in unfamiliar human bodies; were they susceptible to a transfer of personality traits as well? How else is this cursed world going to change us?
Mom and Dad-Just time to send you a quick e-mail before we get on the road again. Hope all is well with you. I hope business is good at the Crashdown. I figure you're probably doing okay, even *without* your two best waitresses and cook. Ha-ha!;) It's been so long since I've seen either of you. I miss you both. Someday, maybe it will be safe enough for us to come back for a visit, but right now I think it's still way too dangerous. I can't really talk about where we are or what we've been doing lately, since everyone is scared that the bad guys from the government will track us down somehow. Even though all my best friends are here, it's kind of lonely without my family and all the familiar Roswell landmarks. And I've started to realize-well, we all have-how impor- tant it was to be safe at home, and just how much Sheriff Valenti really was our guardian angel.
Speaking of that, please tell him 'Hi' for us. Is he still going out with Maria's mom? She's dying to know, but since you guys can't e-mail us back, I guess we won't find out.
