Thunder (16 page)

Selah could hear Amaryllis squeal with delight as the lights came on. She felt better in this safer location. Light flooded the tunnel, making their travel easier as she pushed through the roots and vines, scrambled over the last of the boulders, and squeezed her way into the opening of the library.

Bodhi climbed his way in behind her and touched her shoulder. “Where is the light coming from?” He moved away into the room.

She could still feel the warmth of his hand on her shoulder. “Amaryllis found an ancient library buried under the rubble. It must have a fusion generator or something because the interior light still works. It's quite remarkable. We'll be safe here overnight.”

Amaryllis twirled in the center of the room. Selah was glad to see her recovery despite the severity of her injuries. They would be able to travel without losing time.

Bodhi walked to the walls of stacked data crystals. He gazed at the columns. “I know this technology. It's old-fashioned but still serviceable in some of the poorer districts at—”

“You remember that kind of detail about your home?”

Bodhi looked off into space. “Yes, unfortunately I remember quite a bit. I'm sorry about a lot of it, but apparently that won't get me out of here.”

Selah slid onto the bench she'd righted the last time here. “I'm not sure I understand.”

She watched as Bodhi ran both hands through his hair. The dried clumps separated into blond ringlets that bounced down around his face, obscuring the mark. The loose curls
made him look innocent, but at the same time he was standing here admitting some sort of guilt.

She wondered what he'd done.

“Let's say I didn't exactly follow the rules.” Bodhi appeared to be measuring his words.

Selah understood rules and that kind of deception from growing up with brothers. Odd—he'd responded to what she was thinking. Had she said it out loud?

She snickered. “And for this you were banished from your country? Was everyone who came here sent for the same reason?”

He sat beside her, his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. “Probably. I've never known another expelled person.”

“How could you not know someone? Many have come here over the years.”

“They're purged from our memory.”

“Selah, help!” Amaryllis yelled.

Selah spun. “Where's Amaryllis?”

Bodhi hopped up and gestured to the back. “She headed in that direction.”

The child's voice echoed in the cavernous room. Selah couldn't pinpoint a direction. “Rylla, where are you?”

Bodhi listened intently as the shrill echo bounced around. He pointed toward the section with the loose “Reference” sign hanging by one old rusted hinge. “The other side of that pile.”

Selah scrambled up the jumbled mass of broken furniture and office equipment piled along the right side of the room. Clawing her way to the top, she teetered on the un
stable mess. Wooden furniture buried in the pile creaked and cracked under her weight, shifting the jumble and causing it to slide.

Bodhi maneuvered around the edge of the pile and wedged into a small clear area close to the wall.

Selah steadied herself and spotted Amaryllis pressed into a doorway farther down the other side of the pile on Bodhi's side of the wall.

“Rylla, what's wrong?” Selah asked.

The child turned, her eyes registering terror. She screamed again—one of those shrill child screams that can cut through your brain like nails on a school slate. She pointed at the corner, and Selah's eyes followed her finger. Bodhi craned to see past her. In the corner of a side entryway sat a large rust-colored rabbit.

Selah slid the machete from her back case. On second thought, she put it away and whipped out a kapo. She took aim and pegged the rabbit to the wall by its neck. The back legs shuddered a couple times and stopped moving.

Selah let out a victory whoop and raised a fist in the air. The pile shifted to the left, propelling her to the right. For a moment she was airborne.

“Selah, watch out!” Bodhi yelled. He reached out but he wasn't close enough to grab her.

She tumbled into the mass of furniture with a sickening thud. Chairs rolled down the pile toward her and a tabletop with legs pointed in the air slid over her position as though to close a door. The pile completely swallowed her.

Bodhi grabbed the wall to steady himself and picked his way along the pile to her last location. She had to be all right.
Please let her be all
right.
He'd felt something when they'd held each other. Didn't know what it was, but he wasn't leaving her till he figured it out. He scrambled up the pile.

Amaryllis started to wail. “Selah, don't die. Don't leave me.”

A muffled voice drifted from the mess.

Bodhi gingerly skirted the pile on the low side and began to rip it apart, flinging chairs and racks out of the way. “I'm coming. Hang on.”

Another muffled sound.

Furniture, benches, and book stands flew in all directions. His breathing ran labored and short, and he stretched his muscles to their limit. He slid a table from the pile and pushed it the other direction. Selah appeared with her arms covering her head. Relief flooded his chest.

He reached in and pulled her out, wrapping her in his arms. The pounding of her heart reverberated with his own. She relaxed into his embrace.

“Are you injured?” he asked. She rested her head on his chest. He breathed in the scent of her hair, the faintest hint of perfume or a flower.

She raised her head, long lashes resting on her cheeks. Her eyes opened. Her lips parted. He looked into her green eyes and suddenly felt vulnerable.

Amaryllis squeezed between the two of them and wrapped her arms around Selah's waist.

Selah laughed and gave a mock gasp. “You almost squeezed the air out of me.” She released Bodhi and smoothed the
girl's unruly hair, patting her on the back. Raising a hand to her head, she looked up at Bodhi. “I was trying to tell you I wasn't hurt, just trapped. I think my pride is the only thing injured. But I got the rabbit!”

Bodhi's telepathy received clearer impressions of Selah—her strengths, her weaknesses. She was developing an affection for Amaryllis but still held a longing for her brother Dane.

Bodhi chuckled. “Girl, I've met cats with fewer lives than you.”

Selah scrunched her eyebrows. “What did you say?”

“Never mind, it's an old saying.” Bodhi turned to look at the wall. “Yes, you got the rabbit. Good throwing. Remind me never to get on your bad side.” He steadied her as she stumbled over the tangled mess of chair legs, racks, and tables.

Selah strode to the corner, unpegged the rabbit, and held it up by the ears. “We've got meat for dinner!”

Amaryllis shrank back, tripping over a couple chairs. She caught herself and stumbled backward again. “No! You can't eat that. It killed my mother.” She started to cry.

Selah dropped the rabbit and rushed to her. “No, honey, it's all right. This rabbit is good for food. Do you remember what color rabbit your mother caught?”

Amaryllis sniffled back tears and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “It looked like a baby deer, brown with white spots.”

“I'm going to teach you one of my hunting secrets. See how this rabbit is rust-colored?” Selah retrieved the rabbit again and held it out.

Amaryllis shied away from a closer look. “It looks like dried blood.”

Selah lifted the carcass. “You're right. I never noticed. It's a good way to remember. The ones that look like blood are safe to eat.”

Amaryllis shook her head, pushing Selah's hands away. “No . . . death.”

“No, life, and good eats. Come here and I'll tell you my secret story.” She dropped the carcass and took Amaryllis by the hand, leading her to a righted bench. “When I was about fourteen, a family came to my beach from Ness Borough, a place much farther inland. I saved one of their children from drowning, and as a reward, the family shared their clan secret on hunting rabbits. At first I was like you and didn't believe them, but watching them eat and not get sick convinced me it was safe to eat rabbits with the same color fur as the rust-covered beams embedded in the ground near the beach.”

Amaryllis listened, glancing at the carcass several times. She made a face when Selah finished the story. That was probably the best Selah could ask for at the moment.

“I've got to skin and gut that thing.” Selah grabbed up the rabbit and headed outside.

Bodhi righted a table and found several metal chairs that weren't too bent or rusted while Amaryllis retrieved their canned supplies. He tried to coax her to join him outside, but the child didn't want anything to do with the animal she blamed for her mother's death.

He eased through the rubble-strewn opening of the buried library and perched on a fallen tree to watch Selah. He'd never known anyone like her. She certainly could take care of herself.

Selah sat on a log beside a small fire she'd built inside a rock
circle. She rotated the rabbit on a spit fashioned from a green tree branch as she sprinkled something on the meat from a small pouch. Fat drippings made the fire dance and pop.

Bodhi watched, intrigued by her expert hands. This clearly wasn't the first time she'd cooked game. The sun set behind her, filtering through her hair, creating a halo around her head. It softened her features and caused an ache in his chest that felt unfamiliar. He continued to observe, transfixed by the strength radiating from her.

His thoughts wandered. He didn't notice she'd finished and covered the fire with dirt until she approached him with the spit of browned meat. The aroma made his stomach growl.

Selah held up the game. “Ready to be amazed at my cooking skills?”

“Smells great. Hope it tastes as good,” he said. He rose from the tree and followed her into the library.

Bodhi had never spent time around children, but he enjoyed watching how Selah handled the child. First she tried to encourage her, and when that didn't work, Selah dropped the matter and went about eating her own meal. Once Amaryllis saw Selah eating, the savory smell pulled her in. She tried a little bite then another, and eventually they were all enjoying a sumptuous meal of meat with canned vegetables and fruit.

After the meal Amaryllis curled up in a corner with a reader Selah pulled from their belongings. The child had developed a fascinated interest in ancient buildings, especially castles.

Bodhi sat with Selah at the table, watching her. Good food and pleasant company gave him a moment of peace.

“If I didn't know better, I could almost picture this as a happy family,” Selah said.

He got a fleeting impression. She longed for her mother's touch or voice. Things she'd always taken for granted were now a thing of the past. Strange—he felt her loss.

Bodhi fidgeted with his hands. “I've been on my own for so long I don't have any family times to remember.” He'd never stayed in one place long enough to build a family. Now he was feeling invested not only in the responsibility to a novarium but in the girl. For how long? Did these people live as long as centorums?

Selah watched him for a minute. He felt her judging him about his lack of relationships.

Bodhi suddenly felt as though a stone rested on his tongue. He wanted to know how she felt about him but refused to take impressions from her private emotional thought place. He did have the barest minimum of scruples. This girl seemed to be pulling things from him he didn't know he possessed.

Selah clasped her hands together. Her cheeks flushed red. Bodhi pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. Was she thinking about their near-miss kiss?

“Let's pick a new subject.” Bodhi rested his hand on hers. He didn't want her embarrassment associated with him. He felt her instant relief.

Selah surveyed the room, looking at the crazy pile of furniture and debris. “I wonder what happened here that all the furniture wound up on only one side of the room.”

Bodhi glanced around nonchalantly. “That must be from the tsunami.” He picked up the water pack and gulped from it.

Selah stared at him for a second and looked over the mess again. “I guess it could have. I've seen the wrecked parts of
the coast where people don't live anymore. How would you know it was a tsunami?”

Bodhi shrugged and gulped more water. “A tsunami was part of the Sorrows, along with the bombs, earthquakes, and volcano.”

Selah sat up straight. “That was 150 years ago.”

“There are some things I have vivid impressions of and I remember like yesterday.”

Selah started laughing. “How can you remember that if you weren't here?”

Bodhi looked down at his hands. A sigh pulled on his chest. She would sense it as soon as her abilities started to mature. He might as well tell her now.

Selah tipped her head to look in his eyes. A nervous smile played at the corners of her lips. “Did you hear me? I asked how you could remember that.”