He read the notations over and over. Three times. Six times. Ten. Until his eyes grew tired and he found himself nodding off mid-sentence. Only then did Milo set the notebook into his pack and settle to sleep in the vain hope that forcing the images into his mind would spark another vision or a memory, in case there was something new to learn.
*
A CRACK OFtwigs woke Milo, his eyes darting open to see Isaac tossing and turning. It wasn’t an attack, or someone creeping up on them. The sun was still high, but a glance at Keon’s watch on his wrist showed he’d barely slept for half an hour. Tucking his head into his chin to try again, he lay for what felt like hours, unable to sink into sleep.
Then it happened. So suddenly it was like drowning.
One minute, he felt his body lying on the uncomfortable forest floor, Keon’s warm weight against his side. The next, a heavy weight lay on top of him, his legs screamed in agony, and when Milo tried to rise, he saw it was deep in the night, with the flickering flames of a fire casting terrifying shadows on the trees. Any attempt to throw off the weight on his chest failed, until it moved of its own volition. Milo craned his neck to see what was happening, but everything was blurry and indistinct. A m’weko screamed in agony, and the world flipped upside down.
In an instant, Milo stood on m’weko legs, staring at a scene ahead. Again, the figures were hazy and blurred, but his mind had finally snapped into place.
This was a vision.
He had forced his first vision to revisit a scene he’d only glimpsed in the barest detail.
A man laughed, the sound raking shivers up his spine, securing the knowledge that this was an important moment. Milo stood still, taking in every detail. Figures moved frantically in the distance and appeared to be fighting. Though he was unable to make out who, he counted four m’weko.
Turning to survey more of the scene, Milo caught a flash of blond hair, but when he tried to move closer, his body wouldn’t follow. He was stuck, watching what he suspected was Haley limping into the trees, where a young man stood waiting. Her crying seemed amplified, and when the young man caught her hand and pulled, Milo’s breath caught as Haley resisted.
Was that not a rescuer? Was someone taking her away, even as they fought to save her? Unable to follow, Milo was forced to swivel his gaze, but there was little to discern except a fight to the death happening before his eyes. He opened his mouth to shout for help…
…and found himself standing outside Keon’s home, on the path at the side of the house. Weston stood two steps away, on his tiptoes, fingertips on the windowsill to peek into the window.
“Haley!” he called, quiet enough for a m’weko to hear without waking the whole street. There was no answer, and Weston lowered to the ground with a frown, only to notice his fingers. Rubbing two fingertips together, he seemed annoyed, only to freeze and stare at the blood on his hand. He stepped back, turned, and ran towards the house, seeming to pass through the spot where Milo stood.
Transporting him to the same position, but in the dark of night.
Disorientated by the constant shift and flux of the vision, Milo pressed a hand to the side of the house to maintain his balance. Shaking the blur of too much sudden movement from his vision, he lifted his head to see the window of Haley’s room opening. A leg appeared; then Haley slid out and dropped to the ground. She hauled herself up, in the same way Weston had leaned on the ledge, to close the curtains and secure the window.
Milo tried to speak, but no sound came out. Mute and incapable of moving, frozen in time and unable to warn his sister of the impending danger, he could do nothing but watch as his world fell apart.
Haley dusted off her clothing, turned with a smile, and took a step forward, approaching Milo, who must have stood where her kidnapper did. He couldn’t turn to see a face, nor could he warn Haley of the danger from behind. A tall, well-built woman stepped from the shadows, and in a flash of movement, she grabbed Haley by the hair, slammed her head against the house, and let her fall to the ground. A trickle of blood blossomed on Haley’s temple, staining her hair and trailing her cheek.
As Milo watched in horror, stricken by his inability to do anything useful or discern any details to help in their search, the woman crouched by Haley and touched the wound. Without pause, she lifted Haley off the ground and thrust her into the arms of a man waiting nearby. He stalked away, carrying Haley over his shoulder like a prize of a hunt.
Milo clenched his fists, wishing the night shadows and closeness of the houses had allowed moonlight to light their features, so he might recognise their faces.
“What now?” the woman asked, dusting her hands on her trousers without care for the harm she’d caused.
“Now,” a man replied from a step behind Milo, “we leave a trail.”
*
MILO WOKE WITHa start, wishing he’d never dared provoke his gift. His mother had been right. Perhaps it was better to live in ignorance than to know more details than the Fates were willing to show. The visions were short and succinct for a reason. They showed him what heneededto see to know the event was important without clouding his mind with emotion or reactive thoughts.
A second glance at the watch proved he’d slept a full ten minutes, which was a horrifying realisation. As with his usual visions, they felt like an eternity but lasted minutes in his mind.
Had he learned anything? Perhaps.
Would it benefit them in their search? Not that Milo could see; though there was enough information to make the eventual confrontation easier.
The final proof he hadn’t experienced a normal vision lay in the fact Keon remained asleep. He had always been awake, ready to comfort Milo after a vision, somehow sensing the change in his emotions or in their bond. Tonight, Keon lay sleeping peacefully, and Milo hated to disturb him.
“Keon,” he whispered, offering a gentle nudge to encourage him to wake.
Keon blinked, surprise morphing into concern.What’s wrong?He remained in his m’weko form, proving he could sense the urgency of Milo’s need. Not wasting time and losing focus during a shift just to become a man again.
“I had a vision.”
