Free Brother to Dragons, Companion to Owls by Jane Lindskold Page B

down.”
    I let my hands fall and the dragons look at each other, sighing simultaneously so that they blow up each other’s noses. Unable to help myself, I giggle. Professor Isabella shakes her head with concern and retreats to dress. I realize that she too, is worried that I am losing control.
    Between nods thoughtfully. “We can’t explain it, Sarah. We’re just us and the Institute people weren’t exactly chatty.”
    Betwixt interrupts. “You know the Bible quote? ‘Eyes have they, but they see not. They have ears, but they hear not’? Someone wanted people who could hear and see what most people can’t and that’s you and that’s Dylan and that’s too much for any human.”
    I nod and hold up my hand, signaling “enough.” I need to think, to reflect. Memories without words are rising up and I know if I do not carefully handle them, I will be drowned.
    When Professor Isabella returns, coifed and wearing only one skirt and sweater, Abalone ignores her questions and keeps working. She does nod thanks when the professor supplies her with cocoa from a vending machine. Then the two of us withdraw to a corner and Professor begins to read to me from the collected works of Mark Twain.
    We are both so immersed in the essay she is reading that when Abalone lets out a long whistle of amazement, we both jump.
    â€œFound something?” Professor Isabella asks, flipping off the portable library screen that Abalone had bought soon after our first meeting.
    â€œAnd something,” Abalone confirms, rumpling her unrumpleable hair. “The outer programs were a breeze. I could have gotten through them when I…I got through them easily. When I started on the records for this latest ‘purge’ and some Dr. Haas who was in charge of Sarah’s case, well…”
    She shakes her head in amazement.
    â€œSo you didn’t learn anything?” Professor Isabella asks.
    Abalone raises her eyebrows indignantly, “I didn’t say that. I just said it wasn’t easy. C’mere.
    â€œI didn’t want to be too direct about this,” Abalone begins once we have positioned ourselves so that we can see her screen. “If someone is really looking for Sarah, her files might be flagged so that unauthorized entry would be noticed. So I went on a less obvious tangent.”
    She pauses to sip her cocoa, grimacing when she finds it has grown cold.
    â€œI knew about when Sarah appeared on the street, so I worked backward through the files, looking for when the orders came down. When I found them, I cross-checked by matching not only Sarah’s name, but Ali and Francis, those two fellows Jerome mentioned. Then, when I was sure I had the right group I checked who the controlling authorities were. There were three physicians or psychiatrists, Doctors Davidoff, N’goya, and Haas, who came in from outside. I found next that Haas had been the one who selected Sarah as one of those to be pitched into the cold cruel.”
    This time she looks at the cold cocoa before sipping.
    â€œLet me go pee. Will you get refills, Sarah? Maybe some chips or other junk?”
    She tosses me a credit slip and I head out, proud that I can do this without panicking. Behind me, Betwixt and Between call for me to remember a treat for them.
    When I return, Abalone is back in her perch on the bed. I am pleased that the story has waited for me. Once we are settled with cocoa and cake and chips and the rest of my loot from the vending machines, Abalone continues her report.
    â€œWell, the next jump was a leap of faith. I still didn’t want to try Sarah’s file or code a search with her specs, not until I knew more. Then it occurred to me. Someone may want Sarah back—it may be a private individual even, but whoever it is is using the Home. This is where the faith came in—what if someone screwed up letting Sarah out? I decided that made sense, since