Page 20 of Welcome to Blackbird Hollow
Alice swallows a bit hard, the only crack in her armor. “Yeah. I do. That’s why I’m here.”
Fallon raises an eyebrow, and to my sister’s credit, she doesn’t so much as smirk. It hits me: she thinks it’s a smart theory. And I do too. Alice is so close to the truth, but since she’s only ever read about Them, as far as I know, she’s got it turned wrong-side-down. Though I’ve got things to say, I let Fallon handle this. It’ll save time in the end to let her lead.
“What made you think that?” Fallon asks, her voice soft and young-sounding. “What about Their biology suggests extraterrestrial life?”
Alice’s mouth screws up at one corner. “How much biology have you had?”
Fallon and I both shrug, but I answer, “High school. Neither of us went to college.”
“And I don’t remember a godsdamn thing,” Fallon says before taking a drink of her wine. She pulls her legs up in her chair, and it strikes me how young she looks. There’s a vulnerability in my sister’s eyes that pulls at my heartstrings. I hadn’t realized she felt insecure about the fact that she didn’t go to college ’til now. We sent Cade, because the kid was so book-smart from the beginning, but neither of us ever saw it as an option for ourselves.
Alice’s eyes do that softening routine again. She likes Fallon, I realize. My heart does a triple flip. Almost nobody likes Fallonthe first time they meet her. When Alice continues, her voice is even. “Well, the particulars don’t really matter much, but there are plenty. The bottom line is that any organic matter we’ve found of…” She pauses—rethinking her words, I guess. “Of Theirs isn’t consistent with anything we’ve concretely identified from Earth.”
Fallon and I nod at the same time. She gives me a half-grin, then turns a full-watt smile on Alice, her head falling back in laughter. “That’s fucking amazing,” she says when she’s done having a chuckle. “I’d love to hear more about that later.”
Slowly, Alice smiles. “You would?”
It occurs to me that she got sort of thrilled when I didn’t think she’d emptied out her drawer o’ marbles earlier. Has no one ever taken her seriously before? I shift in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable in the old wood chair.
“Yeah,” Fallon says. “If you can be patient with me, I’d love to know what some of the particulars are.” Alice nods, but there’s a question in her wide eyes. She wants to know if she’s right. Fallon sighs. “You’re almost there. Like ninety-nine percent right.”
Alice throws herself back in the chair in mock frustration, but there’s a smile on her face, those pretty eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What’d I miss?”
Fallon looks at me and gestures,go ahead. I lean back in my chair a little. “I doubt They care much one way or another about what we think of Them—besides, They’re not organized enough to coordinate any kind of conspiracy.”
Alice leans forward now, shaking her head. “Of course. Sector?”
Fallon does finger guns at Alice. “You got it.”
Alice bites her bottom lip, then stares at the ceiling for a moment. “Not organized enough… What level of intelligence are we talking about?”
My mouth just about gapes. She’s not missing a beat. It’s as though she’s been waiting to have this conversation for years. And then it hits me: she has. She’s been looking for the answers we can give her for a long time.
“A lot of Them are about as smart as a mundane dog or cat,” Fallon answers. “But others?—”
“Are They as smart as humans?” Alice asks, her entire posture alight with interest now.
“Lots are probably smarter,” I offer. “But none of Them think the same as us.” Alice frowns, clearly confused. If she stays, she’ll see soon enough. “It’s like they have the most intense case of ADHD you’ve ever seen.”
Fallon nods. “That’s a good way to explain it. It’s like they can’t remember where they put their favorite unicorn mug for the life of ’em. Or they’re so hyper-focused they haven’t peed in eight hours.”
“Not that she has personal experience or anything,” I say.
“Fuckable or not?” Alice shoots.
Fallon points at her with one spindly finger. “Mostly not, but if you could, you shouldn’t.”
Alice blows out a breath. “All those romantasy books I read were wrong then.”
The kitchen goes dead silent for a second, and then Fallon and Alice laugh the exact same laugh. Which makes them both laugh harder. For fuck’s sake, it’s like a pair of soulmates.
For a moment, I’m filled with envy—but I can’t tell if I’m jealous that Alice isn’t onmyexact wavelength or if it suddenly feels like I’m not my sister’s best friend anymore. Maybe it’s both, but I don’t have time to tell. The feeling dissolves as quickly as it came, replaced by the odd sensation that we’re all exactly where we’re supposed to be.
So I laugh with them. And it feels so good, I don’t want it to stop. I wish Cade were here, but maybe we’ll do this againon Sunday. An ache in my chest peeks out from the shadows. I didn’t even know I wanted this, for our little trio to grow.
For there to be more family—more love. I’m getting ahead of myself again. Alice has been here three seconds, and I’ve turned her into family.What in the world is wrong with me?
Fallon goes suddenly serious as our laughter dies down. “We’ve got a big problem.” The smile falls off Alice’s face. “The Wild Hunt is almost certainly headed our way.”
