Page 74 of Butterfly Effects

My family was here, on Johrlar. They knew I was here, too. They would be coming for me soon. I knew they would.

All I had to do was be patient and they would come for me.

All I had to do was wait.

Eighteen

ANTIMONY

“The best thing about being adopted is knowing, with absolute certainty, that I was chosen by the people who raised me. They wanted me more than anything. The worst thing is not knowing who I might have been. That version of me died so I could be born.”

—Evelyn Baker

In the jungle near the Johrlac city called Ka’krin, and really, I do not understand a damn thing about their language

WHEN SAM JUMPED OUT OF the tree, my traitorous limbic system cheered. Having a fiancé who can throw me around like a sack of potatoes—and does, on a fairly regular basis—has done some strange things to my emotional wiring. It was almost a pity my sister lived on the other side of the country these days; our mutual delight in being dropped from great heights might be the first real thing we’d ever had in common.

Arthur, on the other hand, screamed and clutched at Sam’s neck, trying to hold on as tightly as he could. Sam swore, pushing his hands away, and Arthur transferred his clutching to me, getting a handful of hair and boob.

We hit the ground, Sam bending his knees to absorb the impact as much as he could, then dragging us both behind the tree. We had landed distressingly near the sidewalk, and needed to hide before any of the nearby pedestrians could figure out where that scream had come from.

What’s the point of having a jungle if you’re going to fully integrate it with your city? It just makes everything a liminal space, neither here nor there, and confuses everyone.

Once we were safely out of sight of the street, Sam let us both go, although he rewrapped his tail around my ankle immediately after, still holding on. I looked down at Arthur’s hand, which was also still holding on.

“Ahem,” I said blandly.

“What? Annie, your boyfriend just threw us out of a tree,” he said.

“He didn’t throw us, he jumped down and took us with him,” I replied. “And if you could let go of my boob before he punches you in the throat so hard you taste cartilage, that would be cool too.”

“Wha— Oh!” Arthur yanked his hand back like it had been burned, dancing backward a few feet for good measure. Shaking his hand as if to cool it, he stared at me in obvious mortification. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I was just trying to find something I could hold on to.”

“They’re pretty great, aren’t they?” asked Sam, his natural urge to boast about my tits winning out over the impulse to be offended by what had just happened. With the way he could sometimes go on about them, you’d think he grew my breasts himself. Which was fine, really. It was sort of nice to have a fiancé who was so totally into my body.

I elbowed him anyway. “Sort of nice” didn’t mean I wanted him discussing my breasts with my cousin. “Maybe try trusting the trained trapeze artist next time, and keep your hands to yourself,” I suggested.

“I will, I promise!” said Arthur. “You’re my cousin. That’s gross. I would never—”

He trailed off, cheeks burning red. I could almost see him remembering that Sarah was his cousin too, even if she wasn’t a blood relation. He absolutely would, under the right circumstances, with the right cousin. Which wasn’t and had never been me.

“Standing around and being embarrassed at each other is fun and all, but it’s not getting us home any time soon. Let’s go find your grandparents,” said Sam gruffly.

“Good plan,” I agreed.

“I just want to get back to my basement and never go outside again,” said Arthur.

“Sounds like a great idea,” I said.

We started walking, circling the tree we’d been hiding behind and angling ourselves toward the back of the still-smoldering administration building. Smoke clouded the foliage around us, chokingly thick and strangely herbal thanks to all the burning brush. We were careful to avoid coming too close to the street or moving back into view; Alice might still be content to rely on the anti-telepathy charms to keep us hidden with everyone on edge from the fire, but I wasn’t, especially not out in the open. There had to be kids here. Sarah was a child once, and logically, that meant all Johrlac started out as children.

Kids didn’t care if they couldn’t see the source of a strange noise. They cared about the strange noise, and finding its source. One of us would sneeze and we’d have a whole damn Johrlac kindergarten hanging off our arms, shouting for their adults to come and see the funny things they’d found. We needed to be cautious, even if we had a layer of protection on our side.

As if to illustrate that thought, something came crashing out of the canopy above us, slamming through the green until it hit the ground in front of us and bounced back up, revealing itself as a Johrlac in a red-and-brown jumpsuit, clutching what looked like a broom in both his hands and looking frantically around. All three of us froze, trying to emulate the trees around us.

There were charred holes in the sleeve of his jumpsuit, and the bristles of his broom were smoking. He’d clearly fled the building through an open window to get away from the fire; given the way some of the trees overhung the structure, it was impossible to guess how far he might have fallen.

Carefully, I looked him up and down. He didn’t seem to be armed, and from the way he was still looking around, eyes bright and unfocused, he hadn’t managed to spot us yet. Our camouflage, such as it was, was still holding. He looked up into the branches above him, then over his shoulder toward the administration building. Spinning on his heel, he started running in the direction of the sidewalk, crashing through the undergrowth between us and it.