Half Wild

I add some of the blood to the stone bowl that Van passes me: the pulp of the map and Van’s other ingredients lie in the bottom. “Add more,” Van says. “Stir it in.”

 

 

I think there’ll be Hunter poison in it too but Van has said that I can counter that. She says I can counter everything.

 

“Find Mercury, Nathan. Find Mercury and save Annalise. Remember, that is what you have to do.”

 

I put the bowl to my lips and sip the potion. It tastes of stone, strangely dry, almost peppery, and gives a hot feeling inside my throat and stomach.

 

“Think of Mercury,” Van reminds me. And I swallow all the potion while remembering Mercury standing over Annalise. When I’ve finished I drop the bowl.

 

Pers is looking at me, her eyes black and full of hate, and suddenly I’m furious with her for judging me for what I am and what I have to do. I have to get away before I hit her so I stand up but my legs collapse and I’m surprised to find that Nesbitt catches me and lowers me to the ground.

 

My body’s weak but my mind’s on fire. I want to find Pilot’s memories but I don’t know where to search for them.

 

I close my eyes.

 

I see Pers. She’s kneeling above me. I’m lying on the patio in Spain. I’ve just been shot. Then Pers is gone and I’m walking through a grove of olive trees and stopping to pick up something: a stone, a sharp stone. Then I’m on a beach and picking up a pebble and the sun is hot on my face. Then I’m by a river and I’m placing the stones in a small dam. Damming it up.

 

This is Pilot’s way of resisting me accessing her memories. Van had told me Pilot might do this, fill her mind with false thoughts, not memories at all. I concentrate on Mercury, her hair, her gray dress, the cold chill she could summon in a second. I see her. And then I’m standing by a large blue lake. It’s cold and the pale blue mackerel sky is reflected on the water. I pick up a stone, the biggest I can find. I’m going to carry it to the end of the lake to dam up the river. As I walk along, carrying the stone, I glance up and see that in the lake is an island and it’s the strangest of things. A white island. And I realize that it’s not an island at all but an iceberg floating in the lake. I’m still carrying the heavy rock along the shore but I want to look at the iceberg, to feel the cold and the breeze, to think of Mercury and her chill breath. But I keep looking down, looking at the stones at my feet and walking to the river, then dropping the rock in the water, damming it up.

 

*

 

The vision is near Mercury’s home. Van is sure of that. But it’s not much help. I’ve gone over it many times now but I’m not finding anything new. All I get are the same things over and over. Me in Pilot’s head, lifting rocks and putting them in a dam.

 

I ask for advice and Van says, “She’s dead. And they aren’t real memories. Find the real ones.”

 

“Thanks. Very helpful,” I reply.

 

And I try again and come up with the same stuff.

 

*

 

It’s late, dark. I’m pacing around outside, in the garden. We’ve moved on from where Pilot died, where I killed her. We’ve got another car and another house to stay in. I think we’re in France but I’m not sure. The others are inside. Nesbitt at least provides a good meal for us all but he’s complaining about how long it’s taking to locate Mercury. He’s nervous about information Isch will have disclosed to the Hunters if she’s been caught. Celia is in danger, may be revealed as a spy, but Van says that there’s nothing that can be done except trust that Celia can look after herself.

 

We’ve been here a full day now. Waiting for me to find where we should go next. The back door opens and Gabriel comes out.

 

“Tired?” he asks.

 

“Tired—yes. Angry—yes. Pissed off—ninety-nine percent of the time. Fun to be around—never.”

 

Gabriel smiles. “Who wants fun when you can have interesting?”

 

We sit down on some blankets under one of the trees. We slept here last night. “Any brilliant ideas?” I ask.

 

“On how to find the memories?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Keep going over them. Find the way through.”

 

I rest my head back against the tree and say, “It’s so boring. The same thing over and over.”

 

“Boring but necessary.” He looks at me. “If you want to find Annalise do it again.”

 

I look at him. I realize he’s right. He’d do it all a thousand times for me.

 

*

 

I go over each memory: the olive grove, the beach, and the lake. But I think the lake is the real memory. That’s what appeared when I began thinking of Mercury. I go back to that and I see it again. The lake, the sky reflected in it, and I feel a cold breeze which seems real—that’s a feeling I’ve not had in the other memories. I concentrate on the breeze. I shiver and look to my right. I’m in Pilot’s head. I’ve heard something. There’s a hill, tree-covered and brown. There are pockets of snow. There’s a road by the lake and I walk along it. In the lake is the iceberg, its reflection mirrored perfectly in the water. I turn back to the hill and see Mercury beckoning me and I walk toward her, to her home.

 

 

 

 

 

The Shape of a Word

 

 

 

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