Defenders of Earth (Book 2 of the Keepers Trilogy)

Chapter Five

I sit out there until Emily begins searching for me. I want to go home-if I can still call it that-but I have no motivation to unfold my stiff limbs from the position I'm in. So I sit, hugging my knees to my chest, feeling utterly spent, until I hear my foster mother calling, "Callie? Calypso? Where are you, honey?"

I stand up stiffly, feeling utterly spent. "I'm here," I call back dully.

Emily crashes through the underbrush, followed by Mark. "Oh, thank God. You were out here for hours?"

"I hadn't left this rock since I got here," I say, gesturing to it. I don't tell them that I spent those hours waiting for a sign from the Elder Gods, something that showed me their pity, something that I didn't get while I was out here, unless you take more snow as a sign of pity. I don't.

"You look frozen! Come on, come on, we need to get you home and warm you up. Oh, honey, why did you spend so much time out here? You could've caught a cold!"

A) Spending time indoors, in close quarters, is how colds spread. B) While my immune system is very strong against Azeran diseases, it is unfamiliar with human diseases, but a rather nasty cold is the least of my worries. I'm sure I won't react badly to the medicine that humans give to each other. I haven't gotten poisoned from any human food that I've eaten so far, why should medicine affect me?

I shrug. "A cold's a cold. I've got a strong immune system."

"Well, still. Come here, Callie, we'll get you in the car."

I walk cautiously to avoid slipping (how did I run through this slush?). Emily takes my elbow and doesn't let go until we get to the grey Elantra.

Nobody talks during the three minute car ride. Once I got to the Colonial, I immediately take off to my room. I crawl into sweatpants and an old t-shirt of Leo's and curl up under the covers. Gradually, the numbness goes away and I fall asleep, the occasional tear still trickling down my face.

There's got to be something bothering Callie. I just wish I knew what it was.

It can't be the ETL, I think. Something else is going on in her head. Something else is bothering her. Maybe there's a reason why she doesn't want to talk about her past.

In other words, I have reached no other conclusion than one that I reached before.

I lean forward in the recliner, resting my head in my hands. There has got to be something, something that my gut isn't picking up. Think, think, think!

Mom stands up and makes for the stairwell. Dad stands up too. "Don't you go and bother her, Emily."

"I'm not gonna bother her," Mom says evenly, though she doesn't meet his eye. "I just want to make sure that she's okay. I won't go in her room."

Dad frowns but sits back down. Mom climbs the stairs slowly, and Dad looks at me. "Pretty rough day, huh?"

"Pretty rough couple days, I'd say," I respond, looking out the window next to me. The white snow is brilliantly contrasted against the darkening sky.

"I hope that girl's okay," Dad comments, settling into his favorite armchair. "Though, judging by her behavior, I'd guess that she isn't. She's stressed out, poor thing. The way she acts, it's almost as if she's lived through a huge war."

"She's asleep," Mom announces from the top of the stairs. "Tuckered out, poor baby."

"I think we should follow through with her request," Dad says.

"What request?"

"The one she made before her walk. She wanted to meet with the ETL, remember? To shed some light on things."