Death's Shadow Read Online Free PDF Page B

right. I’m soaking up memories each time she touches me, but contact is brief so I’m not taking too much. I try not to absorb anything at all, to block her memories, but I can’t.
    “You sound like Billy sometimes,” Meera says casually. “You said ‘coolio’ earlier, and ‘weakening distraction’ was the sort of thing he’d say too.”
    “There’s a lot of him in me,” I admit. Bill-E spoke much faster than I did, and he used odd words sometimes. I find myself mimicking him. It isn’t intentional.
    “I have his handwriting too,” I confess, lowering my voice to a whisper. “I never wrote before. I wouldn’t have been able to without Bill-E’s memories to show me how. When I write, I do it the way he did, exactly the same style.”
    “I wonder if you have the same fingerprints?” Meera says.
    “No.” I frown, studying the tips of my fingers, recalling the whorls from before. “This is my flesh. I moulded it into my own shape. On the outside there’s nothing of Bill-E left. But in here . . .” I tap the side of my head.
    “That must be weird for Dervish,” Meera chuckles. I go very quiet. She applies new lipstick in silence, then says, “Dervish never talks about you. I haven’t been able to phone often, but whenever I call, I ask how you’re doing. He’s always vague. Says you’re fine, no problems.”
    I grunt sarcastically.
    “I don’t know about your time,” Meera says slowly, “but in today’s world, girls love to share. Boys don’t so much — they bottle things up inside, hide their pain even from their best friends. But girls know that a problem shared is a problem halved.”
    “Bill-E hated that cliché,” I tell her. “He thought if that was true, all you had to do was tell your problem to dozens of people. Each time you told it, the problem would be halved, until eventually it would be of no real importance.”
    “That definitely sounds like Billy,” Meera laughs, then looks at me seriously. “If I can help, I will, but first I need to know what’s troubling you.”
    I chew my newly painted lower lip, wondering how much — if anything — I should tell her. She’s Dervish’s friend, loyal and once in love with him. Maybe she can only see his side of things and will turn against me if I . . .
    No. She’s not like that. Meera’s criticized Dervish before when she thought he was in the wrong. She believes in being honest with everyone. I’ve no guarantee that she’ll side with me, but from what I’ve absorbed, I believe she’ll give me a fair chance.
    “He’s only interested in Bill-E,” I whisper, then fill her in on all that’s happened since I stepped out of the cave, only holding back the information about my gift, since that has no bearing on what’s been going on with Dervish.
    She listens silently, her brows slowly creasing into an angry frown. “The idiot,” she growls when I finish. “I guess anyone in his position would want to know what was going on inside Billy’s head, but he’s taken this way too far. Who does he think he is, treating you like dirt?”
    She stands up, fire in her eyes, and strides towards the door. My heart leaps with excitement — she’s going to confront Dervish and subject him to a tongue-lashing. Brilliant! But then she slows, stops, thinks a moment, and turns.
    “No,” she says quietly. “I can’t say anything to him about this.
You
have to.”
    “Me?” I cry, disappointment almost bringing tears to my eyes.
    “I can take you away from here,” Meera says, returning to my side. “Dervish is no kin to you, so you don’t have to stay with him.”
    “Actually,” I correct her, “we are distantly related.”
    She waves that away. “Like I said, I can take you from him, but I don’t think you’d be any happier. If you run away now, you’ll always be running. You need to talk to Dervish, make him see you’re not Billy’s ghost but a real child with real needs. I wouldn’t treat a dog the way Dervish has