Dark Company Read Online Free PDF Page B

we have no need for names here either.”
    “But I like having a name,” Meg said, her anger subsiding. “I don’t feel comfortable without one.”
    “Comfortable?” The being waved her quiet. “You should have relinquished all of that long ago in the Place of Forgetting.”
    Meg looked around at the white walls. “Is that what you call this cottony room … the Place of Forgetting?”
    “Yes,” the being said. “Your mind should be clear as a child’s, except for the information we provided during your transformation.”
    “It isn’t clear,” Meg said. “It’s all tangled up. I feel things.” The boy’s face flashed in her mind, and in the mirror she saw tears of liquid light welling in her eyes. “I’m confused and lonely. I want to go home.”
    The silver being grew impatient. “You’ll just have to learn to control yourself.” It looked at her floppy arm in dismay. “We have to fix this before the Council sees you.”
    The being produced something it called a healing cord and began binding her arm from her shoulder all the way to her wrist. The cord was shimmery and it hardly weighed anything. It seemed to instantly strengthen and straighten her arm, but did nothing to hide the scar. Meg didn’t mind. She was happy her arm worked at all. She flexed her fingers.
    “It feels strong.”
    “It’s not a cure but your appendage should be functional now,” the being said. “We still need to dress you.”
    With a flick of its fingers it produced a gleaming white robe and draped it over her body. The fabric was light and glimmered like moonstone. It fused to her skin, flowing as though alive. The being fussed with the robe in a futile attempt to cover her arm. The robe waved tauntingly, accentuating both her scar and her female form. The being picked at the fabric like a disgruntled monkey.
    “I don’t know what else to do,” it finally conceded. “It’s time for you to leave the Place of Forgetting and stand before the Council.” With a finger snap, it dismissed the mirror back to the ether and glided away from her across the room. It glanced over its shoulder, expecting her to follow.
    Meg struggled where she stood. Her feet were heavy and clumsy as stones. She couldn’t move them.
    “Think,” the being instructed her. “Use your thoughts to project yourself.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Think about where you want to go and you will go there.”
    Meg concentrated on the wall. Nothing happened.
    “Think harder,” the being said. “Imagine yourself moving toward the wall.”
    Meg focused as hard as she could. All at once there was the sound of air rushing through a tunnel, and her body lurched forward several feet as if she were sliding on ice. The feeling was so exhilarating, she shouted, “Hey! This is amazing!”
    “Please, control yourself,” the being admonished. “Such outbursts will not be tolerated before the Council.”
    “Oh.” She lowered her eyes in embarrassment. “I just can’t believe it actually worked.”
    “Of course it worked. Now try again.”
    Meg furrowed her brow, concentrating her intention. The whooshing sound grew to a roar, and in a stream of glittering stars she slid wildly across the ice again. “Holy smokes!” she exclaimed, forgetting what she’d just been told.
    The silver being folded its arms with strained forbearance. “There is no need for such an emotional response. In fact, you should have left your emotions behind eons ago. Something isn’t right. You’re supposed to be pure—a blank canvas. But you’re the furthest thing from it. I can’t imagine what went wrong.”
    “It’s not my fault,” Meg said, even though she was sure that it was. She’d done everything in her power to prevent her transformation from happening.
    “Whose fault would it be?”
    She shrugged. “I don’t know. The guy in the white room said he was in charge of my transformation …”
    “Your Incubator? Don’t be ridiculous.”
    “Maybe I was