Anna
“I’m very hungry,” Mari stated as we stomped away from the weapons class.
“Yep. Could eat a wallaby or two,” Matt agreed.
Mari raised her brows and looked at him.
“Wallabies are adorable fuzzy creatures that hop,” I elaborated for her.
That caused her to shoot Matt a glare. “Why would you want to eat them?”
“Thanks, Angel. Now she thinks I’m a bleedin’ murderer,” Matt complained.
I grinned at him as we climbed the stairs toward the cafeteria. “I’ll catch up to you guys. Have to collect Trix.”
I left the horde of students on the third floor, but something undefinable made me pause near the railing. I had a sudden impression of flying water and giggling children. Just an image, but it was accompanied by the strongest feeling.
I spun around and pushed against the tide of bodies back to the ground floor. And then turned toward the front entrance.
As soon as I exited, I saw them. A stretch of beach had been created along the lakeshore, and the twins splashed happily as humans in the shallows.
I descended the stairs in a bit of a daze. How had I known they’d be out here? The imagery of the twins in the water—it had been as though I’dseenthem.
Trix was leaping joyfully through the waves, trailing a long rope from her collar. The other end was attached to Kitani, who was attempting to keep it from tangling around her offspring.
My dog spotted me before anyone else. She bolted like an arrow for me, hitting the end of the rope and spinning Kitani around. The Sabre saw me and let go before she face-planted. Trix might not weigh much, but when she achieved rocket velocity, she was a force to reckon with.
Damp and bedraggled, she bounced around me, exuding enthusiasm for the splendid morning she’d had.
My laugh was genuine. Dogs did that for me. Reminded me that life, sometimes, was a matter of perspective.
“Sorry she’s such a mess.” Kitani looked at Trix and waded in to scoop up first one twin and then the other. “I’ve been trying to get them inside for the last half-hour. I’m not certain just when I ceded all control over my life, but it appears I have.”
She grinned at me, and I laughed. The Sabre’s mane of hair was almost as wet and tangled as Trix’s, but her eyes were as bright as her daughters’. I supposed children were as good at forcing perspective as dogs.
I picked up her pack, and we carted my dog and the squealing twins into the building.
“Elevator,” panted Kitani, as the kids started to squirm.
We arrived on the third floor, where she put down one twin and took the pack from me.
“See you tonight.” She reached for the doorknob. “I’m helping with Night Games.”
“It sounds challenging,” I said.
“It will be fun.” Her grin widened.
I watched her disappear through the staff quarters door, my mind racing. I’d seen the twins in the water, a vivid image in my mind—and yet, different. The colors had been a bit off, as though the spectrum was skewed. And they’d been viewed from a lower perspective—as if I’d stood in the water with them.
On four legs.
I looked down at Trix, and she panted up at me. Her blue eye gleamed, and the other—were those blue spots larger in her brown eye? I must be imagining things. Why would her eye change color?
I made a mental note to ask Cara about it. The Watcher was a healer—if there was anything going on with my dog’s eyes, she should be even better than a vet.
On the other hand, maybe I was losing my mind. That was more likely. I shortened up her leash and headed up the final flight of stairs to the cafeteria.
Much to my relief, there were a few dumplings left. I joined the team, and we ate lunch with a single-minded determination generated by an excess of physical activity. Although weapons training was more mind over matter, it still, apparently, burned calories.
