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She stood in the middle of an open-air market surrounded by all sorts of vendors. They lined the square in a series of thatched roofs varying in shades of burnished gold to a dark brown tobacco color. Above her an azure blue sky blanketed as far as she could see, broken only by the odd cotton-candy cloud.
The stalls were filled to the brim with exotic fruits, clothes, colorful souvenirs, and—as an unmistakable melody in the wind greeted her ears and her smile widened—wind chimes. The kiss of sun caressed her face and the smell of the Caribbean tickled her nostrils.
A sense of déjà vu rushed through her, as if she’d been here before. But that was impossible, wasn’t it?
She glanced around once more, brow furled in concentration. It did remind her of . . . of that place. . . . She bit her lip, puzzled. It reminded her of something, but at the moment she couldn’t remember what that something was. Which was weird, wasn’t it?
Kira turned in a full circle, smiling at the people milling about—families, friends, and lovers—and shrugged. She didn’t care where she was, because who knew how long it was going to last?
All around her people moved about, buying wares hawked by pleasant-looking folks—they were as varied as the goods being offered for sale—men, women, black and white. Small animals ran past her feet—a white and gold dog chased by a tiny orange tabby. The animals wove around the crowd and disappeared, two small children close on their heels. The kids giggled and shouted in excitement as several youngsters appeared and joined them.
There was nothing dark or sinister about this place. No fear. She thought of Doctor Mergerone and bit her lip.
No pain.
She took a step and felt the gentle swish of something soft against her skin. She could have sworn she’d been wearing the ugly green uniform from the Institute—a baggy t-shirt and shorts—yet her fingers smoothed pale yellow silk over her hips.
It was the softest thing sh
e’d ever touched and her fingers lingered, enjoying the feel.
She glanced down at her legs, eyes wide in wonder. Unbelievable. Gone was her pasty white skin—the only shade she’d ever remembered having—and instead, she was flush with golden health.
A breeze rolled through the market, whipping long strands of her dark hair around her head. She tugged it from her eyes and grinned.
It felt silky. It felt smooth. There was no hint of dullness or dirt. Or knots. She shuddered.
Or bugs.
Kira took a few hesitant steps and halted, suddenly unsure.
Something nagged at her. It was a sliver of apprehension—a feeling that things weren’t right—but she quickly buried it as an older woman motioned toward her.
“Come here, dear.”
The woman wore a colorful dress that held every jewel tone imaginable woven into the threads. The skirt was full and swept the cobblestones in a rainbow cloud of cotton that reminded her of the gypsy folk her parents would hire to entertain at parties—vagabonds and free spirits. Her silken white hair flowed past her shoulders in gentle waves, and her kind eyes—the color of which Kira couldn’t make out—were crinkled as she smiled.
Kira glanced around, not sure if the woman was looking at her or someone else—but there was no one there. In fact there wasn’t much of anything behind the woman and her stall. It was weird. She saw shapes that appeared to be buildings of some sort, but they were lost in a gray mist that the sun didn’t seem able to penetrate.
It was as if the market was the only thing that existed, but how could that be?
She bit her lip and paused as a man and his children passed in front of her. The youngest—a boy who looked to be about five, with a head full of golden curls and the bluest eyes she’d ever seen—glanced up at Kira and opened his mouth. No words came out but she shuddered as a whisper caressed her ear. You don’t belong here.
For a second her vision blurred and she stumbled. She blinked and shook her head as the odd feeling persisted, but when she was able to focus there was no one there.
What the hell?
“Would you like a drink?” The musical sound of the old woman’s voice drew Kira’s attention and she quickly crossed the street, though she paused and hazarded a glance back. Just to be sure.
“Did you see them?” Kira’s hand went to her throat in surprise. There was no rasp, no weakness from an ill-used voice box. She sounded strong, if a little unsure.
The woman stirred a large, colorful drink inside a glass so cold moisture collected along its sides and ran down in small rivulets. She shrugged. “There are a lot of souls here. Some I see,” she glanced up at Kira and winked, “and some I don’t.” She handed the magenta-colored drink to Kira. “You, I see.”
Kira accepted the glass, though she wasn’t quite sure she should drink it.
“Go ahead.” The kind eyes stared up at her. “Drink. It will make things clearer.”
At the woman’s urging, Kira took a long draw of the cool liquid. Tangy and sweet at the same time, she gulped it down, smiling and more than a little embarrassed as she wiped a drop from the corner of her mouth.
