The Typhon Project

Chapter Eight: Some Sort of Genius

I stared out the car window, my gaze bobbing from tree to plant to flower. The lush green overwhelmed my senses. How long had it been since I'd seen the world like this?

The car slowly followed a narrow strip of black top shaded by a dense canopy of leaves, some wide and curved, others narrow and pointy. Evergreens stood between the bulging trunks of rippling bark. Pine cones dotted the emerald lawn.

Buildings ahead—lots of them—all constructed from the same red brick. The red against all the greenery was striking. The buildings formed a circle around a vast courtyard. What seemed like acres of grass broken by islands of flower beds, trees, shrubs and sidewalks that ran from a fountain at the center, like spokes of a wheel.

The driver stopped in front of a building. Ivy crawled up its walls, stretching three stories, and then dripped from the eaves. A Typhon girl stood on the sidewalk. She grinned at me through the tinted windows. I caught sight of my reflection in the glass. On one side, my bangs spiked. On the side of my head that had been against the seat, my hair was flattened. I pushed my cowlick down and ran my fingers through my hair. Neither helped much.

The driver and Dr. Rail got out of the car and joined the grinning girl on the sidewalk beside my door. They peered through the car window, probably waiting for me to get out. My heart sped and I bit my lip.

I wanted to go home.

The driver opened my door, and sunlight spilled onto the back seat. I slid to the other side to keep out of its damaging rays. The girl leaned down and looked into the car. "It's okay. The sun won't hurt you here."

Dr. Rail tugged down on her blazer. "You're safe here, Leah. Come on out."

I heaved my bag off the floor and scooted across the seat into the sunlight. The sun's rays hit my skin, bright and warm. For so long I'd feared it and avoided it. How strange to allow it to wash over me. I shuddered.

The brilliant light poured over me as I stepped out of the car. Searing rays stung my eyes. They hadn't been expose to the sun in years. With my hand, I shaded my eyes. The heavy scent of moist earth hit me, and I sniffed. I hadn't experienced that smell in years.

Dr. Rail set a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Leah, this is Parminder. She's going to show you around."

Parminder flashed a toothy smile. "Welcome here, Leah." A slight accent flavored her words. Her skin was scaly and silvery like mine, but a darker shade with brown undertones instead of pink. Her eyes gleamed a darker, richer yellow than mine.

I nodded. "Th-thanks. Good to meet you." My voice cracked as I spoke, so I cleared my throat.

Dr. Rail huffed out a breath. "Well, I'm going to go get check in at my office and get situated. Are you okay with Parminder?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I'd take any complete stranger over Dr. Rail. She pivoted and her black pumps clicked against the pavement as she marched down the sidewalk that cut through the courtyard toward the fountain.

"Follow me." Parminder turned and her glossy black braid swung over her shoulder. She waved me forward. I followed her the opposite way that Dr. Rail went. A couple of students lay in the shade of a towering tree, books in their hands.

I breathed in every smell—earth, flowers, pine. Memories of playing in my backyard as a little girl, giggling with Lindsay, bombarded my thoughts. As we walked, another sweet scent found me. It was so familiar. A flower—one I'd often smelled at my grandparents' place. I searched my surrounding and found the culprit—lilacs. Their lavender blooms waved in the light breeze.