a small flock of them, feeding on the fish that fed on the gnats. Kelly watched in fascination, until the birds rose as one into the air, as if heeding an unseen signal, wheeled, and soared away, their wingtips barely clearing the tops of the cypress trees. Kelly searched the wilderness across the canal, but could see nothing that might have disturbed them. Then she heard a noise, a soft puttering that floated above the drone of the frogs and insects.
A boat came around a curve, and Kelly instinctively knew who it was. She stood up from the bench, moving to the water’s edge. A moment later the boat glided to a stop beside her and she recognized Michael in the stern, gazing at her curiously.
“How did you know I was coming?” he asked as she climbed into the dory and settled herself on the center bench.
Kelly shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I just had a feeling. Doesn’t that ever happen to you? You know what’s going to happen before it does?”
Michael’s brow furrowed slightly. “But I didn’t even know myself, till I left my house.” He hesitated, then went on. “My folks were having a fight.”
Kelly knew without being told that the fight had been about her; she could sense it in the way Michael’s gaze suddenly shifted away. She waited for him to go on, but he didn’t elaborate, merely turning the boat around to go back the way he’d come.
They cruised slowly along the canal, the darkness gathering steadily about them. And yet, despite the coming of the night, Kelly felt no fear. Ahead, a narrow channel veered off to the left, and even before they came to it, Kelly knew Michael would steer the boat into it. A few seconds later, as they passed through the narrows and the overhanging trees closed around them, Kelly felt a subtle change come over her.
She felt safe, as if the swamp itself were somehow nestling her in its arms. The feeling she’d always had in Atlanta—the strange sensation of never quite belonging—was gone. Here, in the swamp, she felt as if she’d come home.
The channel, only a few feet wider than the boat itself, snaked between two islands, then branched.
Again Kelly knew before they arrived at the fork which way Michael would go.
It was, she realized, as if some unseen force, some sentinel neither of them could see, was guiding them.
The boat moved slowly and steadily. As they coursed deeper into the tangled bayous of the marshland, Kelly became aware once more of the nearly inaudible siren song she’d heard last night. She turned, looking at Michael, and found that despite the gloom within the swamp, she could see him clearly.
His eyes, expressionless, were fixed on her, but then she realized that he wasn’t looking at her at all. Rather, he seemed to be gazing beyond her, as if seeing right through her. Saying nothing, he cut the engine and lifted oars from the bottom of the boat. Except for the music of the swamp, they moved forward in silence now.
The eerie strains of the subliminal aria reached deep into her mind, and she responded to its call, letting herself drift with the unearthly music, letting it imbue her with the sense of peace its notes brought.
They were no longer alone.
Other boats were around them now, shadowy forms drifting around the edges of Kelly’s vision. She had no idea how many there were, nor did it matter, for each of the boats contained someone else like herself, someone else whose mind was obeying the gentle summons of the music.
Slowly, barely visible at first, Kelly saw a glow of light flickering in the darkness ahead. Like a beacon, it pierced the darkness, and even though it was still far away, Kelly imagined she could feel its heat on her face. She felt drawn to it, as a moth to a flame, and as the boat moved steadily toward it, a sense of anticipation grew within her.
Tonight, something special was going to happen.
Tonight, she was certain, she was finally going to find out who she was, and why she had always known she was different from anyone else.
At last the boat touched the shore. Without needing any instruction at all, Kelly stepped out of the bow and fastened the line to a low-hanging cypress branch.
Other boats were already there. In the darkness beyond the island on which she stood, Kelly could sense the presence of still others, each of them