Page 4 of A Light in the Dark
When I listened for it, I could make out an accent, although I found it to be faint to my ears. Then again, I supposed our planet’s tendency to send people to Earth, at least before its brutal and swift end, had helped with that. We all spoke the same language; we just spoke it in different locations.
Those who traveled the stars tended to do their best to be understood, and that meant taking care with their accents.
I glanced at the moth, who’d passed out on my table after demolishing the fruit buffet I’d offered. Despite the long months after Earth’s destruction and the exodus of its people, I struggled to come to terms with the situation. I’d been aware of people from Earth moving to Stonecreek, but we’d all evolved the same general way, making it almost impossible to distinguish someone from Earth versus one of the preservation planets. While I wasn’t anything other than a boring, run of the mill human, I shrugged and replied, “Once a shapeshifter decides he or she wants to date someone, they will persist until it’s established they have no hope with the person they find to be interesting. I’ve never dated a shapeshifter, but Stonecreek has quite a few around. Not as many as Moonriver does. Moonriver has the highest open population of shapeshifters on our world because of the Hunters.”
“And the shapeshifters will date anyone? And this isn’t a problem?” Gabriella’s expression, which implied she fought a smile at the thought of having someone pay her close attention, comforted me in some ways.
After the trauma of her planet’s destruction, she wasready to look towards the future. Hopefully, she learned to treat the floods seriously and would heed the warnings next year. Those who survived did—usually.
“They’re as human as you and me,” I assured her. While I wasn’t an expert on shapeshifters, I could think of a few ways I might put her at ease. “Most shapeshifters in Stonecreek are shy—and the ones who aren’t tend to work in rescue services. I mean, I might not have spotted you in the water without the luna moth.”
Amanda regarded the moth with a grin. “He’s a bit worn out. The moths don’t tend to have a lot of endurance, and he wouldn’t have had time to land and rest while following you. To complicate matters, the moths are pretty shy. Stonecreek has a healthy population of moths, but they’ll only show up when theymust—or someone gets into a tight spot.”
Interesting. I hadn’t thought to ask Amanda if she knew my winged guest. “Do you know this specific moth?”
“Oh, no. I can just smell that he’s a man; it’s one of the advantages of being a shapeshifter. We have a heightened sense of smell, even avian types like me. I can also smell someone’s general age, although the moths are trickier. The younglings have a fresh scent about them, though. He doesn’t, but he also doesn’t have any of the markers of old age, either. But for a moth, grown but not middle aged can be anywhere between twenty-five and eighty or older. Then again, if a handsome moth came my way looking like he’s in the prime of his life, I’m not going to care if he’s actually eighty. By the time he looks eighty, I’ll have been dead three times over!”
Throughout my life, I’d heard stories about people seeking out the Fountain of Youth, some myth most claimedoriginated on Earth. Eternal life hadn’t appealed to me then, and I questioned why anyone might want to live longer. Then again, my frugal nature played some part of that.
I’d grown up poor. I’d gotten lucky moving to Stonecreek and finding a job, and I had scraped every penny to keep my home, having blown through my education grant buying the place. I sometimes picked up work in the evenings, often helping people recover from the floods or preparing for them. While I got by, I mostly lived paycheck to paycheck, hoping nothing went catastrophically wrong while squirreling away money for a rainy day.
Why would anyone want to extend that for hundreds of years? Did having so much extra time somehow lead to wealth and happiness?
Rather than speak my mind, I decided to address the next problem of my day: where everyone would sleep. Gabriella would be easy; I had a guest bedroom, and I kept it clean. The moth and the owl would be my primary issues, as my spare rooms were dedicated to my hobbies or lacked clean bedding. “I only have one guest bedroom, but if you plan on staying and need to rest, Amanda, you’re more than welcome to make use of my couch.” I considered the moth. “I’d make an offer to him as well, but it seems like he has decided the plate is an acceptable place to sleep.”
Amanda laughed. “Don’t you worry about me, Valerie. Once I observe you for a little longer, I’ll wing my way out and go back to work. I’ll be out of your hair within the hour. You both seem to be fine. Just monitor when you go to the bathroom. If there is any sign of blood in your urine or stool, call emergency services immediately. We’ll bring in a helicopter if we can, and if we can’t, we’ll do what we can. It maybe a while before the waters recede. Internal injuries are probable among flood victims, but I think you got off lucky, Gabriella. You got caught in the second phase of the flood. Most of the debris had already washed out of the city. Sure, you got hammered by the water and some of the walls, but you didn’t hit much debris on the way down.”
I glanced up the hill in the direction of the massive caldera lake edging the town. Year after year, nature pulled the same trick, sending massive storms to the mountain region, which in turn elevated the lake’s waters. Despite magic and science, the dams and levees could only do so much.
Rather than have them break, the engineers opened the floodgates, and Stonecreek braced for the worst. Whomever had built the city had been wise about it, but I questioned why they hadn’t done the building somewhere safer.
“Would you like some breakfast?” I asked, hoping that doingsomethingwould ease my growing tensions.
Outside, a light rumble of thunder promised the floods were just beginning—and I had only planned for enough extra food for one person for two weeks. Feeding Gabriella while waiting for the recession would test my patience and my pantry.
Oh, well. As always, I would find a way.
“Breakfast would be good,” Amanda replied, and she stared at Gabriella to send a message she should not skip the offered meal.
“Yes, please,” Gabriella said, and she wrung her hands together. “Can I at least pay for the groceries? As a thank you? I don’t have much.”
Few from Earth did, and I’d heard rumor the evacueesbecame despondent if they could not do what they could to contribute. “Of course. We can worry about that after the floods recede. Until then, we’ll make do with what I have.”
Amanda leftafter an hour and a half; she wanted to see if Gabriella suffered from any discomfort after eating. As the woman seemed fine, the paramedic gathered her kit, transformed into an owl, and left my home on silent wings. I breathed a relieved sigh, showed my guest to the spare bedroom, and once she was settled in to sleep, I went to deal with the luna moth. I provided a fresh dish of water and left him to his nap. If he wanted to depart, he’d have to wait until I opened the door for him, as there was no way I was inviting in any more wildlife.
A human and a moth would test my patience enough.
Aware I would need to provide for my guest, I set an alarm for five hours, changed into my pajamas, and conked out the instant I crawled into bed. As planned, the shrill tone startled me awake, and I killed it before it could go off a second time. Thunder clapped, and I grimaced at the rumble of flood waters beating on the shored foundations of my home. Rolling out of bed, I headed to the bay window, discovering white waters two feet below my door. Across the street, darkness greeted me, with no lights in any of the windows, indicating they’d lost power.
I could only assume my side of the street would be next.
No electricity would complicate matters for me and my guests, although I had a propane barbecue in my backyard,assuming it hadn’t flooded out. The worry things might go from bad to worse got the better of me, and I pattered to my kitchen to check my sliver of property. Not only was the drainage system still working, my rain barrel was ready to be stoppered, purified, and put into storage until needed. I headed to my closet, grabbed the lid, and closed it. Moving it would have to wait, as I’d have to call in some favors due to its excessive weight.
When I came back inside, soaked through, the luna moth explored my table. I grabbed an apple and an orange along with a clean plate, prepared his breakfast, and offered it to him before changing into dry clothes and going to work figuring out what I’d feed myself and my guest in case we were trapped for longer than a few days. I settled on chili, which would last us a few days unless the power went out. In theory, I could keep the food a safe temperature in a pot on the barbecue, assuming I didn’t run out of propane.
By the time I’d gotten everything prepared and the chili simmering on the stove, Gabriella emerged from my guest bedroom, yawning and rubbing at her eyes.
“Did I wake you?” I asked, grimacing at the thought of having disturbed her with my banging around in the kitchen.
