answers.”
“Answers? I can’t even figure out the right questions.” I’m not religious or anything, but let’s say for a second that he’s telling the truth. Where does that leave the whole God issue? What about heaven and angels and all that? Who’s in charge of how you come back and when? I think about that day at the Tower and the vision I had. Of the visions I’ve continued to have. “So how did you know that I’m … remembering things?” The rough wood of the platform and the smell of the damp grass linger in the shadows of my mind. For everything that’s unexplained, I still can’t imagine that I’m anyone other than who I’ve always been. It’s impossible.
“When I touched you,” he says. “After you fell, I reached out to help you up, and I could feel it.” He sighs. “When you touch another Akhet, it sends out a unique vibration. But I could tell from your reaction that you didn’t know.”
I walk, thinking about the things I’d like to know if all this were really true. How does it happen? Where are the others? Do you ever remember
everything
about your past? “When did you first find out about … all of this?” I finally ask, feeling ridiculous even as the words come out of my mouth. I look behind us to make sure that nobody is close enough to overhear. Maybe I can figure out what’s going on if I pretend to believe him.
Griffon blows out a loud breath and runs his hand through his hair. “It’s been a long time since I transitioned. I haven’t thought about that for a while,” he says. He goes quiet for a moment. “It happened for me pretty much like it’s happening for you—in pieces. I was living in Italy at the time,” he says. “I was an older man—backthen, forty was considered ancient—and I began to understand what had been happening to me my whole life. I met a woman who knew about it, and she helped me. She was an Iawi Akhet even then.” He glances at me. “Sorry. ‘
Iawi
’ are Ahket who have had their memories for many lifetimes.”
“When was that?” I ask, understanding that whether or not all this is true, it’s at least true for Griffon.
He looks at me as if he’s deciding something. “The early sixteen hundreds. Hard to say exactly.”
“How old are you now?”
“Seventeen.”
“So you’ve been seventeen for over four hundred years?” Even he must realize how ridiculous that sounds.
He smiles sadly. “No. It’s not like I’m a vampire or some kind of immortal. I’ve been seventeen since February. I’ve just been seventeen many times before.” He stops and looks around. “Everyone has,” he says. “It’s just that some of us carry the knowledge with us. We remember what other people forget. Most of the time it’s a good thing.” He pauses. “Most of the time.”
“So what happened to her?”
He looks confused. “Who?”
“The woman. The one who helped you back then.”
“She died right after we met.” A shadow passes across his face, and I can tell that he’s thinking about something painful. I sense there’s more, so I don’t say anything.
“She was killed, actually,” he goes on. “For being a sorceress. Back then, you didn’t speak of these things in public.” He looks around as we emerge from the tunnel back onto the busy street.“And if you want to stay out of serious therapy, it’s better not to talk about it now either.”
We cross the intersection and start up the street, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I hear pounding as a bus rolls by us, and looking up, I see Rayne in the window, pointing to the bus stop on the corner.
Griffon sees her too. “Your friend?”
I nod. “The one I was waiting for.” We walk to the corner and wait while Rayne pushes through the standing crowd and jumps the last two steps to the sidewalk.
“Hey!” she says, giving me a big hug. “I’ve been texting you all afternoon.”
I feel the outline of my phone in my pocket. I must have forgotten to turn it
“Answers? I can’t even figure out the right questions.” I’m not religious or anything, but let’s say for a second that he’s telling the truth. Where does that leave the whole God issue? What about heaven and angels and all that? Who’s in charge of how you come back and when? I think about that day at the Tower and the vision I had. Of the visions I’ve continued to have. “So how did you know that I’m … remembering things?” The rough wood of the platform and the smell of the damp grass linger in the shadows of my mind. For everything that’s unexplained, I still can’t imagine that I’m anyone other than who I’ve always been. It’s impossible.
“When I touched you,” he says. “After you fell, I reached out to help you up, and I could feel it.” He sighs. “When you touch another Akhet, it sends out a unique vibration. But I could tell from your reaction that you didn’t know.”
I walk, thinking about the things I’d like to know if all this were really true. How does it happen? Where are the others? Do you ever remember
everything
about your past? “When did you first find out about … all of this?” I finally ask, feeling ridiculous even as the words come out of my mouth. I look behind us to make sure that nobody is close enough to overhear. Maybe I can figure out what’s going on if I pretend to believe him.
Griffon blows out a loud breath and runs his hand through his hair. “It’s been a long time since I transitioned. I haven’t thought about that for a while,” he says. He goes quiet for a moment. “It happened for me pretty much like it’s happening for you—in pieces. I was living in Italy at the time,” he says. “I was an older man—backthen, forty was considered ancient—and I began to understand what had been happening to me my whole life. I met a woman who knew about it, and she helped me. She was an Iawi Akhet even then.” He glances at me. “Sorry. ‘
Iawi
’ are Ahket who have had their memories for many lifetimes.”
“When was that?” I ask, understanding that whether or not all this is true, it’s at least true for Griffon.
He looks at me as if he’s deciding something. “The early sixteen hundreds. Hard to say exactly.”
“How old are you now?”
“Seventeen.”
“So you’ve been seventeen for over four hundred years?” Even he must realize how ridiculous that sounds.
He smiles sadly. “No. It’s not like I’m a vampire or some kind of immortal. I’ve been seventeen since February. I’ve just been seventeen many times before.” He stops and looks around. “Everyone has,” he says. “It’s just that some of us carry the knowledge with us. We remember what other people forget. Most of the time it’s a good thing.” He pauses. “Most of the time.”
“So what happened to her?”
He looks confused. “Who?”
“The woman. The one who helped you back then.”
“She died right after we met.” A shadow passes across his face, and I can tell that he’s thinking about something painful. I sense there’s more, so I don’t say anything.
“She was killed, actually,” he goes on. “For being a sorceress. Back then, you didn’t speak of these things in public.” He looks around as we emerge from the tunnel back onto the busy street.“And if you want to stay out of serious therapy, it’s better not to talk about it now either.”
We cross the intersection and start up the street, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I hear pounding as a bus rolls by us, and looking up, I see Rayne in the window, pointing to the bus stop on the corner.
Griffon sees her too. “Your friend?”
I nod. “The one I was waiting for.” We walk to the corner and wait while Rayne pushes through the standing crowd and jumps the last two steps to the sidewalk.
“Hey!” she says, giving me a big hug. “I’ve been texting you all afternoon.”
I feel the outline of my phone in my pocket. I must have forgotten to turn it
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