She Knows We Are Here

I must have fallen asleep on the beach, completely defenseless and exposed. I was lucky that no one came around, although I was surprised that the General had left me alone for so long. I slowly opened my eyes and rolled over onto my back as I let out a jaw-breaking yawn.

I was beginning to think that the worst thing in the world was getting a good night's sleep and still waking up tired and unable to function the next day. I don't remember ever sleeping that well, but unfortunately for me, waking up was nowhere near as pleasant.

My eyelids were heavy, refusing to open all the way, no matter how hard I pushed them to. Every last muscle I had ached, my arms and legs refusing to move so much as an inch. I felt like I had been hit by a truck, and yet, I slept like a baby.

I looked around as best I could, only moving my head to see if the presence I felt last night was still around, but it was nowhere to be found.

I was alone, and for the first time since I had been abducted, I didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. A part of me was sad; I didn't know anything about the presence; I didn't know if they were going to be my final judgment or be added to the long list of people I hated. But now that they were gone… I missed them.

Staring at the top of my cage, I started singing. I wasn't loud or anything, and quite frankly, I thought I was more than a little tone-deaf. But my 28 siblings loved listening to me, and when it got too quiet, I found myself in my own head.

And that was a very scary place to be.

I started with the hymns that I remembered, choosing the ones that my youngest sister liked the most. She was only about a year old when I left; her mother was my father's 19th wife. But singing that hymn reminded me too much of home, so I quickly changed.

"I heard there was a secret chord that David played, and it please the Lord," I hummed low, letting the familiar words envelop me in a hug. It was rare that we were allowed outside music into the compound. The Prophet didn't like the idea that we could be contaminated in any way by the outside world.

And if we were contaminated, then we forfeited our eternal soul. I couldn't even begin to count the number of people who chose death to the idea that they might tarnish their eternal soul… and the Prophet encouraged it.

But this song, this song, touched me. Every time I heard it, I got goosebumps. The lyrics and the tones danced through the air as if weaving a spell on anyone who would listen. From my lips to God's ears, one of my younger sisters would say every time I sang.

I wondered if God was listening to my songs even now.

I held my breath for a second. I thought I could feel the presence back again, but that was just wishful thinking.

Realizing that I was well and truly alone, I relaxed my body into the warm sand beneath me and closed my eyes. "Hallelujah, hallelujah," I sang, letting my voice carry my feelings with it as I let myself be as loud as I could be.

This was the first time in my life that I sang a song the way I wanted to sing it, not how someone demanded I sing it. And holy Christ, was that ever a freeing feeling.

"She tied you to the kitchen chair, she broke your throne, and she cut your hair, and from your lips, she drew the Hallelujah…." I belted out, not caring when the birds trapped in the same cage that I was in took to the air, startled by the sound of my voice.

I was singing for myself… and I was loving every second of it.

----

"That's the hirini," grunted Nai'dqa as he led the other four men of his group into the golden cage. Like yesterday, there was no one else around. The lock hadn't been replaced and no one seemed to have realized that he had broken it yesterday.

None of the other members spoke a word as they silently slipped into the makeshift jungle, the haunting cry of the hirini drawing them deeper into its depths.

"I think that is obvious," grunted Vi'dta as he practically bit his tongue off. The need to shift, to confront a threat had never been greater in all the years he had lived. He fought his body's natural reaction, but he couldn't fight the pull he was feeling toward the creature lurking nearby.

"I've never…" said He'dtaalh softly before shaking his head. He had the most experience trying to fight his biological urges to shift into his battle form, but the female singing made the task harder than ever before.

"Does anyone understand what she is saying?" asked Vi'dta, and the other two males turned to look at Ba'dqeel. He was the Head Ambassador for the Nycteromys species, and even if he couldn't speak almost every language ever known, he could at least recognize it.

"No," murmured Ba'dqeel, his eyes flashing bright sliver as he searched the shadows for the creature who had them all captivated. "It sounds familiar, but I would have to do some more research."

"I don't know if it would make it better or worse to know what she is saying," admitted He'dtaalh. "If she is describing my death, then I would prefer to remain oblivious to the fact as I happily faced it."

"Hush," warned Nai'dqa, pulling the shadows even tighter around the others. They were now completely lost in the darkness. Only they could see out, but no one else would notice them, even if they were standing inches away from the males. "This is the pool I found her in yesterday."

True to his words, Nai'dqa pushed aside a leaf the size of his head, and the pristine blue waters appeared before the four of them.

The singing stopped for a second as if the hirini could sense them, but then it quickly picked up again, the words changing from something luring to something that sounded almost like a battle cry.

"She knows we are here."