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“So you don’t get to enter the real world unless the flare is up?”
“Yeah.”
“But the flare only comes every seven years or so. In between years, you’re here, by yourself, with no company?”
He whistled. A shaggy shape trotted from the dark and flopped at his feet. A huge, black dog. “Got Conri here.”
The dog raised his paws into the air, turning to get his belly scratched. Bran obliged. “If I get bored, I sleep. For years sometimes, until she wakes me up.”
I offered my bone to the dog. He took it out of my hands very gently and settled to gnaw it at my feet. I thought I was alone. At least I could go out and talk to other people. “You must’ve been here awhile, but you speak with no accent.”
“The Gift of Gab. One of three gifts she gave me. Gift of Gab: I speak any language I wish. Gift of Health: my wounds are healed fast. And Gift of Aim: I hit what I see. The fourth gift is my own. I was born with it.”
“What is it?”
“Admit it was the best kiss you’ve ever had and I’ll tell you.”
“Sorry, I can think of a couple better.” Or at least one…
“Then why do I waste time with you?”
I shook my head. He wasn’t a real person. Just a shadow of one with no memories, no ties, nothing but a sex drive, good aim, and wild eyes.
“Where are you from?”
He shrugged. “Don’t remember.”
“Okay, when are you from? How long have you been here?”
“I don’t remember.”
I grappled for something, some sort of marker that any person would know. “What’s your mother’s name?”
“I don’t remember.”
I looked at the stars. This mission was doomed to failure from the start. Who was I kidding?
“Blathin,” he said. “Her name was Blathin.”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. “Come! I’m going to show you something.”