Whispers on the Wind by Judy Griffith Gill Page A

twenty years. You’d need to have as little substance as the smoke from the fire to have come through that cleft. Now I strongly suggest, mister, that the next few things you tell me had better be true, or I walk out of this cave and forget I ever met you.”
    He looked at her for a long moment as if assessing the depths of her intentions, then said, “I had much less substance than the smoke when I came through that crevice, or perhaps through the—the very stone itself—of these cavern walls. But because I was weak, because I was lost, alone, I could not control my descent. I lacked the strength and cohesion provided by my Octad.”
    “So how did you get here, then?” she shouted, entirely losing her patience.
    “My—” Again, there was a word that sounded almost like a song, so alien to her she could only guess at which language it might have its root in, but he touched his necklace— “was able to give me guidance. It sought shelter for me, and found it in this cave, but even it, due to electronic interference from the solar storm, could not prevent my materializing before time.”
    Lenore sank down onto a stack of rock-slabs near the fire. “Materializing,” she said. Her voice sounded hollow to her own ears. Sickly, she recalled the times when he had not been in the cave with her—or had not seemed to be. Had he been “dematerialized” then?
    Feeling like Alice, she asked him.
    He nodded. “I was dematerialized. But now I am fully corporeal.” He thumped his very solid chest with hard knuckles. “I will maintain my corporeal state. Be as solid as you are, so you can see me. So you can touch me. I enjoy having you touch me. Will you do it again?”
    Lenore had serious doubts as to her own personal state, corporeal and mental, but held back from expressing them. “Not on your Nelly, pal!”
    His face took on a half-questioning look, head tilted slightly to one side. “I cannot access the word ‘nellypal’. Will you explain it for me?”
    “I’ll explain nothing to you until you tell me what the hell you’re doing here, where you were when you weren’t here, and when you expect to disappear again.” She glared at him. “I hope it’s soon!”
    Jon recognized the fear in her tone, and wished she would allow him to properly alleviate it. Since she would not, he would have to do his best without the required soothing mind-touch. “I will not disappear again,” he said. “I did it only because it was very difficult for me, in my weakened condition, to maintain control over my form. The food, water, and warmth you brought me will allow me to remain as I am now, and to heal.”
    “Another lie,” she accused, her gaze following his fingertips as he lifted a hand to his head.
    “Oh, no. It is the truth.”
    “Jon...if your name is Jon, you are beginning to annoy me mightily! Get on with it. Tell me your story!”
    “If I must, to please you, then I will, however, you know it yourself, if you would but admit it. I have given you all the information you need. More, you took from my Aleea-Kahinya .”
    “Ah-lee-yah-ka—what?”
    “Ah- lee -yah-kah- heen -yah,” he said slowly. Again, he touched his necklace and, for an instant, he knew how deeply she longed to do the same.
    Her entire being reverberated as she projected the desire to revisit his home. Through the brief glimpse she expelled, he knew she would always think of it as a beautiful, magical garden filled with sweet scents, warm breezes, dazzling birdsong and that incredible sense of peace. As her throat ached with the need to return there, so did his, to help her return, if just for a moment. He admired the courage and determination she evinced as she forced her mind away from the temptation to touch his Kahinya , or even the single Aleea she had stroked.
    “ Aleea - Kahinya ,” she repeated, then frowned, her mouth twisting to one side as if in disgust. He sensed she was disappointed in the way the words came out flat and unmusical