breath on my face. “I am yours and you are mine, Keira. We are one.”
Every sensation in the world tumbles through my body all at once. I become aware of the most fundamental law of Khayalism: Irkalla will never leave me, not even if I asked her to. She’ll come whenever I call, heal me if ever I’m hurt. No matter what happens to me in the future, she will come when I need her.
And then, way too soon, it’s over as she peels her mesmerizing embrace away from me. My body feels numb and naked without her. With my eyes closed, desperately trying to savor the feeling, I frown, wishing for more but her wings recede and chilled fingers trace my hands, squeezing my fingers as she lets me go.
“Look at me, and see me, Keira,” she sings, lifting my chin with a tender finger.
Slowly, I lift my gaze, a swift gasp stealing my voice. Though the flame in her eyes still burns bright, Irkalla has changed from green to vivid ruby. What? What—happened to you? Why are you red?” I squeak at last, voice trembling.
“You’re excited,” she says, clasping my hands tightly. “Each Khayal wears the color of their handler’s emotions. It’s normal for our bond to feel like pleasure for you.”
Heat that matches the flames in her eyes burns my face. “Oh God,” I mumble, swallowing the humiliation.
And though I’m seeing it live, I can’t wrap my head around the exact moment transformation occurs as Irkalla’s color changes once more, this time to amber. I clasp a hand over my mouth, pointing to her chest. “Orange!” I pant.
A gentle giggle slips through her lips. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s just as nice for me. Bonding with your Ka is nothing to be ashamed of. It is an intimate connection that you’ll never share with anyone else,” she says, trying unsuccessfully to reassure me.
“That’s for sure.” I hug my arms close to my chest. “So, you’re a living billboard of my emotions?”
Irkalla’s petal soft lips, curl up into a tender smile, her head tilts as she blinks back in agreement. At least that’s what I think is happening, only as I stare at her I get a weird static in my head, like trying to find a station on an old radio. Pieces of words, or maybe they’re pictures, begin to form. It’s like understanding what’s being said even though there are no words. And then in a flood of comprehension I hear it, I get it.
“What is a billboard? ”
Jonathan said the Khayal had a different mind. I see what he meant now. I can read Irkalla’s thoughts. But it’s in a way of understanding what she’s saying through her feelings.
I scrunch my face, thinking really hard. “It’s a big board for advertising.”
But Irkalla just stares back. I see pictures of flowers and birds, trees and clouds, the only things that are missing are rainbows and ponies…oh, nope, there’s a rainbow.
“Never mind, I get it. You’re my very own, living, breathing mood ring.” I smile.
Massacre
Just as I begin to wrap my head around Irkalla’s telepathy something new begins. A funny soft tingle—not as strong as when my hand falls asleep, though still a pins-and-needles feeling—spreads from my fingertips, up my arms and neck, lifting the hair off my head as though I’ve touched a plasma ball.
A raw vibration pulsates through me: energy and strength like I’ve never known course through my veins. I feel like Wonder Woman, like I could leap down from this tree and maybe even fly.
“Wow!” I say out loud, but in my mind I think, “Is this you?”
Irkalla nods, still smiling.
“Oh, I could get used to this!” I say, clenching and unclenching a fist. I reach for a branch, ready to test my new strength, when gunfire splits through the stillness.
There is no time for games.
“Sorry, I have to go.”
The expression never changes on Irkalla’s face, she just smiles and—still thinking of roses and daffodils—as I swing a leg over the branch.
Just as I find a foothold ten more rounds sound
Every sensation in the world tumbles through my body all at once. I become aware of the most fundamental law of Khayalism: Irkalla will never leave me, not even if I asked her to. She’ll come whenever I call, heal me if ever I’m hurt. No matter what happens to me in the future, she will come when I need her.
And then, way too soon, it’s over as she peels her mesmerizing embrace away from me. My body feels numb and naked without her. With my eyes closed, desperately trying to savor the feeling, I frown, wishing for more but her wings recede and chilled fingers trace my hands, squeezing my fingers as she lets me go.
“Look at me, and see me, Keira,” she sings, lifting my chin with a tender finger.
Slowly, I lift my gaze, a swift gasp stealing my voice. Though the flame in her eyes still burns bright, Irkalla has changed from green to vivid ruby. What? What—happened to you? Why are you red?” I squeak at last, voice trembling.
“You’re excited,” she says, clasping my hands tightly. “Each Khayal wears the color of their handler’s emotions. It’s normal for our bond to feel like pleasure for you.”
Heat that matches the flames in her eyes burns my face. “Oh God,” I mumble, swallowing the humiliation.
And though I’m seeing it live, I can’t wrap my head around the exact moment transformation occurs as Irkalla’s color changes once more, this time to amber. I clasp a hand over my mouth, pointing to her chest. “Orange!” I pant.
A gentle giggle slips through her lips. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s just as nice for me. Bonding with your Ka is nothing to be ashamed of. It is an intimate connection that you’ll never share with anyone else,” she says, trying unsuccessfully to reassure me.
“That’s for sure.” I hug my arms close to my chest. “So, you’re a living billboard of my emotions?”
Irkalla’s petal soft lips, curl up into a tender smile, her head tilts as she blinks back in agreement. At least that’s what I think is happening, only as I stare at her I get a weird static in my head, like trying to find a station on an old radio. Pieces of words, or maybe they’re pictures, begin to form. It’s like understanding what’s being said even though there are no words. And then in a flood of comprehension I hear it, I get it.
“What is a billboard? ”
Jonathan said the Khayal had a different mind. I see what he meant now. I can read Irkalla’s thoughts. But it’s in a way of understanding what she’s saying through her feelings.
I scrunch my face, thinking really hard. “It’s a big board for advertising.”
But Irkalla just stares back. I see pictures of flowers and birds, trees and clouds, the only things that are missing are rainbows and ponies…oh, nope, there’s a rainbow.
“Never mind, I get it. You’re my very own, living, breathing mood ring.” I smile.
Massacre
Just as I begin to wrap my head around Irkalla’s telepathy something new begins. A funny soft tingle—not as strong as when my hand falls asleep, though still a pins-and-needles feeling—spreads from my fingertips, up my arms and neck, lifting the hair off my head as though I’ve touched a plasma ball.
A raw vibration pulsates through me: energy and strength like I’ve never known course through my veins. I feel like Wonder Woman, like I could leap down from this tree and maybe even fly.
“Wow!” I say out loud, but in my mind I think, “Is this you?”
Irkalla nods, still smiling.
“Oh, I could get used to this!” I say, clenching and unclenching a fist. I reach for a branch, ready to test my new strength, when gunfire splits through the stillness.
There is no time for games.
“Sorry, I have to go.”
The expression never changes on Irkalla’s face, she just smiles and—still thinking of roses and daffodils—as I swing a leg over the branch.
Just as I find a foothold ten more rounds sound
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