The voice was gone. There was
only a
rushing
noise
in an
endless blackness.
Miles, Maggie thought. I'm sorry....
Then she stopped thinking at all.
CHAPTER 4
M
aggie was dreaming. She knew she was dreaming, and that was strange enough, but what was even stranger was the fact that she knew it wasn't
an ordinary dream.
This was something
...
that came from outside
her, that
was being ...
sent.
Some deep part of
her mind fumbled for the proper words, seething
with frustration, even while the normal part of her
was busy staring around her and being afraid.
Mist.
Mist everywhere, white tendrils that snaked
gracefully across her vision and coiled around her
like genii that had just been let out of lamps. She
had the feeling that there were dark shapes out in
the mist; she seemed to see them looming out of
the corner of her eye, but as soon as she turned they were obscured again.
Gooseflesh rose on Maggie's arms. It wasn't just
the touch of the mist. There was a noise that made
the hairs on the back of her neck tingle. It was just
at the threshold of hearing, distorted by distance
or something else, and it seemed to be calling over
and over again, "Who are you?"
Give me
a break,
Maggie thought. She shook her
head hard to get rid of the prickly feeling on her
neck. This is just way too
. . .
too
Gothic.
Do I
always have corny dreams like this?
But the next moment something happened that
sent a new chill washing over her, this time one
of simple, everyday alarm. Something was coming
through the mist, fast.
She turned, stiffening. And then, strangely, every
thing seemed to change at once.
The mist began to recede. She saw a figure, dark
against it, nothing more than a silhouette at first.
For just an instant she thought of Miles-but the
thought was gone almost as quickly as it came. It
was a boy, but a stranger, she could tell by the
shape of him and the way he moved. He was
breathing hard and calling in a desperate voice,
"Where are you? Where are you?"
So that was it. Not
"Who
are you," Maggie
thought.
"Where are you? Maggie! Where are you?"
The sound of her own name startled her. But
even as she drew in a sharp breath, he turned and
saw her.
And stopped short.
The mist was almost gone
now and she could see his face. His expression was
one of wonder and relief and joy.
"Maggie," he whispered.
Maggie stood rooted to the spot. She didn't know
him. She was positive she had never seen him be
fore. But he was staring at her
as
if
... as
if she
were
the most important thing in the universe to
him, and he'd been searching for her for years until
he'd almost given up hope. She was too astonished
to move
as
he suddenly erupted from stillness. In
three long steps he was in front of her, his hands
closing on her shoulders.
Gently.
Not possessively. But
as
if he had the
absolute right to do this, and
as
if he needed to
convince himself she was real.
"It worked. I got through," he said.
He was the most striking person she'd ever seen.
Dark hair, a little rough and tousled, with a ten
dency to wave.
Smooth fair skin, elegant bones.
A mouth that looked
as
if it normally might be proud
and willful, but right now was simply vulnerable.
And fearless, brilliant yellow eyes.
It was those eyes that held her, arresting and
startling in an already distinctive face. No, she had
never seen him before. She would have remembered.
He was a whole head taller than she was, and
lithe and nicely muscled. But Maggie didn't have a
feeling of being overpowered. There was so much
tender anxiety in his face, and something near
pleading in those fierce, black-lashed golden eyes.
"Listen, I know you don't understand, and I'm
sorry. But it was so hard getting through-and
there isn't much time."
Dazed and bewildered, Maggie latched onto the
last sentence almost mechanically. "What do you
mean-getting through?"
"Never mind.
Maggie, you have to leave; do you
understand that? As soon
as
you wake up, you get
out of here."
"Leave
where?"
Maggie was more confused than ever, not for lack of information, but because she was suddenly threatened by too much of it. She
needed to remember-where had she gone to
sleep? Something had happened, something involv
ing Miles. She'd been worried about him....
"My brother," she said with sudden urgency. "I was looking for my brother. I need to find him."
Even though she couldn't remember exactly why.
The golden eyes clouded over. "You can't think
about him now. I'm sorry."
"You know something a-"
"Maggie, the important thing is for you to get
away safe. And to do that you have to go as soon
as you wake up. I'm going to show you the way."
He pointed through the mist, and suddenly Mag
gie could see a landscape, distant but clear, like a
film being projected on a veil of smoke.
"There's a pass, just below the big overhanging rock. Do you see it?"
Maggie didn't understand why she
needed
to see it. She didn't recognize the landscape, although it might have been anywhere in the Olympics or the
Cascade
mountain
range above the tree line.
"First you find the place where you see three
peaks together, the same height and leaning toward
each other. Do you see? And then you look down
until you find the overhanging rock. It's shaped like
a wave breaking. Do you see?"
His voice was so urgent and imperious that Mag
gie had to answer. "I see. But-"
"Remember it. Find it. Go and never look back. If you get away all right, the rest doesn't matter."
His face was pale now, the features carved in ice.
"The whole world can fall into ruin, for all I care."
And then, with the suddenness that characterized
all
his movements, he leaned forward and kissed
her.
A nice kiss, on the cheek.
She felt his warm, quick breath there, then his lips pressing lightly, and then a sudden quivering in them, as
if he were
overcome by some strong emotion.
Passion, maybe,
or excruciating sadness.
"I love you," he whispered, his breath stirring the
hair by her ear. "I did love you. Always remem
ber that."
Maggie was dizzy with confusion. She didn't un
derstand anything, and she should push this stranger away. But she didn't
want
to. However
frightened she was, it wasn't of him. In fact, she
had an irresistible feeling of peace and security in
his arms.
A feeling of belonging.
"Who are you?" she whispered.
But before
he
could answer,
everything
changed again.
The mist came back. Not slowly, but like fog roll
ing in, quick and silent, muffling everything. The
warm, solid body against Maggie's suddenly
seemed
insubstantial,
as if it were made of fog
itself.
"Wait a minute-" She could hear her voice ris
ing in panic, but deadened by the pearly cocoon
around her.
And then
...
lie was gone. Her arms were hold
ing only emptiness. And all she could see was
white.