Chapter 2 #3
“What are you doing?” I asked, watching the light brighten slightly in its palm.
“Giving you something,” the spirit answered, its expression becoming more serious.
“I don't need a reward,” I told the spirit, shaking my head as I held my ground.
“It isn't payment,” the spirit replied, lifting its hand.
“That somehow makes me more nervous,” I said to the spirit, my shoulders tightening when it came within arm's reach.
“Wait,” I blurted, raising one hand when the spirit reached toward my face. Two warm fingers touched the center of my forehead.
Sound rushed through me. My knees buckled before I understood what was happening, and I hit the damp ground hard enough to jar my palms when I caught myself.
I pressed both hands over my ears.
It didn't help.
Bird calls overlapped above me. Insects buzzed from every direction. Something scratched beneath tree bark. Wings beat overhead, while another animal moved through leaves somewhere beyond the clearing. Water shifted around the exposed roots beside the pool.
Every noise demanded my attention at once.
“Stop,” I gasped to the spirit, squeezing my eyes closed as panic tightened my breathing.
Then the sensation changed.
The sounds didn't disappear.
Instead of one overwhelming rush, I could distinguish them individually. A bird called somewhere to my left. Something small moved beneath the plants several feet behind me. A larger animal passed through the forest beyond the clearing, far enough away that I couldn't see it.
I slowly lowered my hands.
The spirit crouched nearby.
“What did you do to me?” I asked the spirit, breathing faster than I wanted as I tried to adjust to how sharp everything suddenly seemed.
“For a little while, you'll hear the forest in a way humans normally cannot,” the spirit explained, watching me carefully for any sign that I was still overwhelmed.
“What does that mean?” I asked the spirit, pushing one hand against the damp ground as I sat upright.
“You'll understand soon enough,” the spirit replied, a small knowing smile returning.
“That isn't an explanation,” I told the spirit, irritation finally finding room beside the confusion.
“It wasn't meant to be,” the spirit answered, appearing entirely unbothered by my frustration.
“You're being vague on purpose,” I accused the spirit, narrowing my eyes as I realized exactly what it was doing.
“Perhaps,” the spirit admitted, its smile becoming just a little more obvious.
“How long is ‘a little while’?” I asked the spirit, watching closely for any sign that I might finally get a useful answer.
The spirit didn't respond.
Gold light moved briefly across its skin.
Then it was gone.
Completely.
I blinked at the empty space.
“No,” I said to the vanished spirit, remaining on the ground for another second while disbelief caught up with me again.
Nothing answered.
I pushed myself to my feet.
“Hey!” I called after the spirit, turning toward the pool as frustration overtook my caution. “You can't do something weird to me and then disappear!”
The clearing remained empty.
I checked beside the tree and toward the surrounding vegetation, even though I already knew I wasn't going to find anyone hiding there.
“What just happened?” I muttered to myself, running both hands over my face as I tried to decide whether returning to the station and pretending none of this had happened was still an option.
“Well, from where I'm sitting, you made that much more complicated than it needed to be,” a voice said from somewhere above me, sounding openly unimpressed.
I stopped moving.
There was no one else in the clearing.
Slowly, I raised my head. A scarlet macaw sat on a low branch above the pool, its vivid red feathers standing out against the dark green leaves. Bands of yellow and blue covered its wings, and one black eye remained fixed directly on me while its claws gripped the branch.
“No,” I whispered to the macaw, going completely still as my mind rejected one more impossible thing.
“There you go again,” the macaw complained, clicking its beak before fluffing the feathers along its chest. “You've said that at least ten times since you arrived.”
My mouth opened. For several seconds, nothing came out.
“You're talking,” I finally said to the macaw, pointing toward the bird while my hand shook slightly.
“Yes,” the macaw replied, shifting one claw farther along the branch as it regarded me with obvious impatience. “Good job.”
I took one slow step backward.
“No, birds don't talk like this,” I told the macaw, shaking my head as my heartbeat accelerated all over again.
“I've been talking all day,” the macaw informed me, leaning forward and fixing both eyes on me. “You just couldn't understand me.”
I stood there in stunned silence, listening to the distant insects, the leaves moving somewhere behind me, and the impossible bird breathing on the branch overhead.
The macaw shifted again.
“If you're going to scream, could you at least warn me first?” the macaw asked, sidestepping along the branch as though it had already decided I was unpredictable.
I screamed.