Page 14 of Simon Says

“I was saying that, when I was born, you were the fourth person to pick me up. There was Auntie Elora, then Dad, then Ram, then you. Mom was out for the count at that point. You smiled and did all the appropriate new baby stuff, I guess. But I knew you were sad.”

“You did?” Simon had spent most of his adult life with the unusual. Unusual people, places, things, and occurences. But he’d never become callous, jaded, or lost the wonder of discovering something new. Recognizing that he was in the presence of someone who was unique in all the world filled him with a sense of the sacred. “That’s extraordinary even around here.”

She shrugged. Then she leaned forward, elbows on her knees in a tom-boyish pose. “Just for the sake of fantasy, what if she was found? What would you say to her?”

“Your privilege with me goes far, but not that far, young lady. Some things are private.”

“You old dog.” Rosie sat up and smiled with smug innuendo that made Simon a little uncomfortable.

“You know perfectly well that I’m human. And I’m notthatold.”

“Maybe not. But you arethatliteral.” Rosie stopped and looked at him curiously. “Have you always been that way?”

Simon took a moment to consider. He hadn’t always been that way. He’d brought a flair of abandon to the prospect of being wild. But after the incident in the Orkneys, he’d shut down emotionally so as to focus all his resources, particularly his intellect and his natural talent for organization and management, on finding Sorcha or, if that failed, finding someone else who could find her.

After giving it sufficient thought, he said, “No.”

“So what is it you think…?” All at once Rosie realized why she was sitting in the office of the Director who was sometimes called Grand Poobah behind his back. “Because you think I found my dad.” She started shaking her head. “Simon. I didn’t find him. My grandpop did. I just got to be the one to pick him up.”

“That may be, Rosie, but you were still a child in many ways. Now you’re not.”

She had to admit that was true. She’d been an adult physically, was sexually precocious, and had her parents’ memories, but as he’d said, in many ways she’d been still a child when Storm was brought home.

“What difference does that make?”

“Now you’re not.”

“Not what? A child?”

“Precisely. Now you’re not a child. If your grandfather could find Storm, then you can find Sorcha.”

“Why do you think that, Simon?” she almost whispered.

“Because you have all the abilities Deliverance has plus, plus, plus. In fact we’re not yet sure how far the plusses go.”

“Well, look, I can carry a tune but that doesn’t make me a pop star.”

“What?!?” Simon looked confused. And Rosie had to admit that wasn’t really analogous to the discussion at hand.

“I’m just sayin’…”

When she didn’t finish the sentence, Simon said, “Yes? What are you saying?” Her mind was racing as she tried to sort through her thoughts and get in touch with her feelings. “I don’t want to be overly blunt, but you are wasting your talent. In all the world you’re the only person who is capable of, well, what you can do. And using that to paint Brackinstarle dragons is, well, it borders on being criminal.”

“Kellareal likes seeing me pursue mundane things. He thinks I might destroy the universe or something.”

“Rosie. Do you think you’re going to destroy the universe?”

She thought for a second or two before shaking her head. “No.”

“Then what’s the real problem?”

“I don’t like the idea of being a finder of lost loves.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to disappoint you, Simon. I don’t want to get your hopes up and fail. Everything about what you’re asking is an unknown. I don’t want to be blunt either, but she might not be alive. Or she might have found another life and be a grandmother by now.”

“She’s not a grandmother.”

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