The Sound of Seas by Jeff Rovin, Gillian Anderson Read Free Book Online

was obviously in ancient Galderkhaan in a body that was not her own. From the bracelet, she assumed it was Bayarma’s body, the mother of Bayarmii.
    Standing with her back to the tall, powerful woman who had restrained her, Caitlin breathed slowly and pointed the first two fingers of each hand at the ground. Her vision was sharper, the smell of fish and jasmine filled her nostrils, the air was cool to the point of chilly and free of pollen, and there were no mechanical sounds anywhere in the world around her, her arms and fingers felt different. The sky was a rich blue, the clouds the same as her own time, and there was a thin tendril of black smoke that came from somewhere in the distance.
    But she did not feel the one thing she wanted desperately to feel. She could not find the active stones in her own time, and the tiles here appeared to be quiescent. Without them, she did not know how to return to her own time. The one other occasion she was here—­protecting souls in her time from aggressive souls in Galderkhaan—she was disembodied, a spirit, a conduit for energy. Caitlin felt none of that now.
    Because the tiles are all in harmony and balance , she thought. Vol has not yet activated the Source. Who knows how many years—or weeks or days—until he does.
    Panic was replaced by helplessness. Plugging into the earth calmed her and she somehow managed to remain calm. Perhaps it was the balmy air, cool and refreshing, with the salty smell of a nearby sea. Maybe it was this body , which wasn’t her own; it didn’t seem to want to panic. It didn’t seem to understand, even, what that was.
    Caitlin was glad for all of that because she couldn’t afford to lose control again. She did not know if there were psychologists here—there didn’t seem to be a word for one, she realized, as she thought in Galderkhaani. The closest she came was galdani —a physician who heals with a kind of empathic energy. But she imagined that there were prisons and hospitals and she did not want to end up in either.
    Being physically present in Galderkhaan felt different from being here in spirit. In her previous experiences with the Galderkhaani, ­Caitlin had felt like a hitchhiker. With Maanik, with the other children, she was not alive in a foreign body but merely observing through their eyes. Eavesdropping. This was not like that. She was inhabiting, controlling, this woman’s body. The chronic numbness in Caitlin’s hip, from childbirth, was gone. She looked at her fingers, saw the whorls of her fingerprints. The encroaching farsightedness, though slight, was also gone. She did experience a little difficulty breathing, however.
    No , she realized suddenly. It wasn’t difficulty. It was simply different. Either her lung capacity was less or the oxygen content was diminished.
    As she continued to take stock—quickly, intellectually, like when she was an aid worker checking her gear before boarding a truck or helicopter—she realized that her arms were shorter, fingers more slender, but both were stronger. Her upper arms were toned, bronzed, fit, either from whatever work Bayarma did or from speaking in Galderkhaani with the constant superlative gestures that gave depth and nuance to every spoken word and phrase.
    Caitlin noticed all this as the woman continued to hold her supportively, gently, despite the obvious strength in her big hands.
    The woman asked if she could let Caitlin go. Caitlin indicated that she was all right now. Her captor finally released her and took a step back. Caitlin made sure she could stand on her own, then turned slowly and looked behind her. As she gazed at that strange, alien face, the flesh ruddy bronze with oddly elongated gold eyes, Caitlin fought very hard not to freak out again.
    This is real. I am here .
    But becoming agitated would not help her get home—if that were even possible—and she did not know how much time she had. If she