Earth Thirst (The Arcadian Conflict) - By Mark Teppo Page 0,38

to her—on my side since my back still hurts—and as soon as I close my eyes, most of the day vanishes. When I open them again, the light in the room has changed—the sun is on the other side of the sky now—and Mere isn't in the bed anymore.

I sit up slowly, feeling an unnatural stiffness in my back. Mere is sitting in the overstuffed wingback chair, dressed only in the white cotton robe that comes with the room. She's reading the morning paper. Some of her hair is damp and her face is clean and pink. I can smell the lavender scent of the hotel's complimentary soap on her skin.

“You don't breathe when you sleep,” she says.

My mouth is dry—it's an unpleasant sensation—and when I move, I feel a layer of skin on my back cracking and shifting like loose shards of shale. “I'm a shallow breather,” I say.

She lowers the paper and regards me. Her eyes are clear. Whatever they were doping her with at Eden Park doesn't linger long. “Just because I was drugged doesn't mean I wasn't paying attention. And that's not the only incident either. You picked me up like I weighed nothing and held me over the railing on the Cetacean Liberty. Do you remember that? And I saw Phoebe—”

“You saw Phoebe do what?”

“Gus—you remember Gus?—knows some Japanese. I asked him what ‘kyuuketsuki' means.”

I was more curious about what Phoebe had done, but Mere has a point she wants to make. “What does it mean?” I prompt.

She folds the paper and puts it on the table. Without a word, she gets up and walks to the heavy curtains that are keeping most of the light out. She yanks them open and the room floods with sunlight. I put up a hand to keep the worst of the glare out. My optics are sitting on the dresser next to the TV. I wish they were a little closer, but I don't move to get them. The light hurts my eyes, but I won't suffer any permanent damage. Not right away, at least.

“This is stupid,” Mere says with a snort. She walks back to the chair and sits down. “I mean, there you are. Sitting in full sunlight. You came out during the day on the boat too.” She makes a noise in her throat and flaps her hand at my face. “Open your mouth. Show me.”

“Show you what?” I ask, squinting at her.

“Let me see your teeth.”

I stand, my back complaining again, and close the curtains before I grant her request.

My teeth are much like hers, except—

“No dental work,” she notices.

“Why would there be?” I point out.

A laugh escapes her throat before she can stop it, and she puts a hand over her mouth as if she is embarrassed by the sound. “I'm sorry,” she says, shaking her head. “I don't—this isn't… I'm having a hard time…”

“You wanted to know about Arcadia, Mere,” I say as I wander over to the narrow desk and search for something to write on. “This is your chance.”

“Huh. True enough, I guess.” She rubs her hands across her arms as if she is catching a chill. “Okay, out with it, Mere,” she sighs, talking herself into something. “Ah, shit. This is too weird, but what other explanation is there? I mean, I'm sure there's a rational explanation, but what does rational even mean, really? And then there's Clarke's Law, right? The whole magic is just science we don't understand argument.”

Having found a piece of paper and a pen, I return to the bed and start making a list.

She interrupts her stream of consciousness thinking. “What are you doing?”

“I'm making a shopping list.”

“Why?”

“We need a few things.” I point at her robe. “Unless you want to go around wearing that.”

“No.” She is flustered for a moment, her hands touching the robe. “No, I don't. Silas, you're not answering my question.”

I raise my eyes to her face. “You haven't asked one yet.”

“What are you?”

“I was born a Dardanoi, in a place that was once called Troas, which later became Anatolia and is now part of Turkey. Later, I became an Arcadian.”

“What's an Arcadian?” she asks.

I offer her a smile. “What do you think?”

“I think ‘kyuuketsuki' means ‘vampire,' and I also think you're not answering my question.”

“I'm not using the words you want me to use, but I am answering your questions.” I say. “You have to ask better questions.”

She makes a face and fidgets. I know what she wants to know,