Page 12 of Stone Cold Alien

“Thank you. That’s very reassuring.”

I looked at Pam again, waiting for her to admit that this was some elaborate joke. She didn’t. Her expression was serious yet professional, as if she dealt with aliens all the time. Maybe she did. That would explain a lot.

I cleared my throat to play for time. “You brought me to a ruined castle to meet an alien?”

Pam nodded. “Yes.”

“Without telling me?”

“We couldn’t risk telling you until you saw him for yourself. It’s part of our policy.”

“You could.”

“You wouldn’t have believed me.”

I opened my mouth to argue, then looked at Sten. Pam had a point, which only made me more annoyed. If she’d told me that there were aliens involved, I would never have agreed to this. Not because I was worried about encountering an extraterrestrial, but because I’d assume they were absolute crackpots and scammers.

Sten shifted in the grass. Pain tightened his face, and his injured wing twitched behind him.

“Where are you from?” I asked.

“Spiris.”

The word meant nothing to me. “Is that a planet?”

“Yes.”

I waited for my mind to reject that information. It didn’t. There was a living gargoyle sitting in front of me, so another planet was no longer the most unbelievable part of my day.

“How did you get here?”

“Our ship crashed.”

Pam lowered her phone. “In 1537.”

I stared at her. “That isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking.”

I turned back to Sten. His expression had closed, but he gave a small nod.

“You’ve been here for almost five hundred years?”

“Trapped here,” he corrected.

“And you’ve been awake all that time?”

“I slept when I could.”

The words were simple and said without emotion, but they made my stomach twist. I tried to imagine being unable to move, speak or even close my eyes while centuries passed around me.

I couldn’t. It was too awful to even try.

“How do you speak English?”

“I listened.”

“For five hundred years?”