Wild-born by Adrian Howell Page A

easier to do when you’re in it.”
    I looked at her questioningly, and she continued, “You see, Adrian, hiding protection is like a bubble. I create it around my house, and then make it bigger and bigger until it covers several blocks. But over time, the bubble shrinks, so I have to keep pumping more power back into it. I’ve put a hiding bubble around this car too, of course, but it’s much smaller, and moves with us.”
    I pictured in my mind a brightly glowing force field surrounding the SUV. In reality, however, Cindy’s hiding bubble was completely invisible, and I couldn’t see how far it extended. I hastily pulled my arm back into the car and rolled up the window.
    “I have to get back home soon so I can reinforce the protection there,” said Cindy, and then muttered to herself, “Besides, Alia will be worried sick by now.”
    “Alia?” I asked.
    “Another guest at my house. I’ll introduce you as soon as we get there. I wanted to bring her along, but she’s not really the going-out type.”
    When I gave her another questioning look, she said quietly, “You’ll see.”
    “One mystery after another,” I grumbled.
    “You’ll have plenty of time to solve them all once we get home. Like I said, you can stay as long as you like. I can give you better protection than almost anyone and, if you like, I’ll teach you some new tricks too. You can trust me, Adrian.”
    I huffed. “That’s exactly what Ralph said.”
    “Suit yourself,” replied Cindy, stopping the car.
    “I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “That’s not what I meant.”
    Cindy nudged my shoulder and laughed. “I’m kidding! I just need to stretch a bit. It’s still a long road ahead.”

C hapter 6: The Other Guest
    We arrived at Cindy’s house at around two o’clock in the afternoon. It was a square-ish white two-story in the middle of a row of similar houses, fairly spaced apart, each with neatly cut lawns and small flower gardens. The town we had come into looked very much like the one I had grown up in, and although I was painfully reminded of what I had lost, it was still nice to be back on familiar ground. Cindy parked her SUV in the garage, and the shutter closed automatically behind us as I followed Cindy through a side door that led into the kitchen.
    Cindy called out, “Ali, I’m home!”
    I instantly heard the pattering of small footsteps coming from another room. The door on the other side of the kitchen burst open, and a little girl with long walnut-brown hair and unnaturally pale skin stood in the doorway for a brief instant. Then she jumped in fright, letting out a little shriek, and disappeared back into what I could now see was the living room.
    Cindy called out, “Oops. Sorry, Ali, I should have warned you. It’s okay. He’s not going to hurt you. Come into the kitchen.”
    Then Cindy turned to me and said, “Sorry, Adrian, I probably should have warned you a bit more, too. No sudden movements, okay?”
    “Okay...” I said slowly, not understanding what the big deal was.
    Cindy called out again, “Alia! Come on now, we’re really tired, and I missed you. Were you okay by yourself? Come into the kitchen, honey.”
    “Maybe we should go into your living room,” I suggested.
    Cindy shook her head and whispered, “No, let her come to you. This will take some time.”
    Suddenly Cindy called out toward the living room, “No, Ali, he’s not!”
    A pause, and then she called again, “I swear, Ali! I wouldn’t have brought him here if he was. He’s lost, just like you. He needs a home.”
    Another pause.
    Cindy said sternly, “Alia, that is not going to happen! Please come into the kitchen and say hello. His name is Adrian, and he’s going to be here for a while.”
    The little girl’s face slowly reappeared from behind the doorway. As she peered timidly into the kitchen, I carefully lifted my right hand and gave her a little wave and a smile. She ducked out of sight.
    “Come on, Ali, just say hello,”