Stars Dancing [Dreams-To-Lovers Romance]

EURI

"Is your companion animal okay?" asked the Chalet Serene staffer while Ronnie, Portia and I laughed at Frank. She was lying on the floor of the resort foyer on her back, legs splayed. After about ten seconds, she lifted her furry face and looked around.

Ronnie prompted me, She thinks kittens should be attacking her.

"Do you have any kittens or other cats who might like to play with her?" I asked the staffer, and seeing her name tag added, "Reluca."

"Oh! She wants to play? Of course! Sinchee! Dutchee!" Two cats came out from an office behind the concierge bar and jumped over the counter. Frank flopped back on the ground, looking dead.

Reluca laughed along with the rest of us, then Ronnie showed me that he told Frank she needed to act playful to get the cats to be interested, so she jumped up and wagged her tail at them like a puppy. We cracked up, but the cats rubbed noses with Frank, and they scampered around the Chalet together.

We got checked in, dropped off our bags, and took a late afternoon stroll outside before dinner. The scenery was gorgeous: wide open pastures, barns and fences, horses. Lovely log cabins amongst tall trees and winding walking paths, and the air smelled fresh, earthy, and bright. We didn't see Frank, but Ronnie reassured us that she was fine with her new friends.

We spent five days on Trauton 7, and Shah and Ronnie pulled up videos from their childhood. We looked at old photos with both of them riding horseback through the hills and canoeing on the lakes, having picnics with dogs, cats, and their parents and grandparents, looking happy and downright normal.

The only thing I noticed about it that seemed sad was that there were no other children in the photos or videos, but all around us at Chalet Serene families with kids of all ages played and ran around together.

I know it makes you sad, Euri, Ronnie reassured me. But that's just the way we were. We weren't like other kids. You've seen my mind. Imagine me trying to be like other kids. It was okay. I didn't need to be like them. I had my parents and Shah and Nanna and Poppie. I didn't care that I was different.

It still made my heart hurt. Ronnie hugged me and felt like someday I'd get it. Which made me feel really stupid, and of course he knew, so that made him laugh at me. I shook my head at him and pushed him off me. He was turning into another brother.

"Humph: annoying punk," was the feeling I sent him which made him laugh more, and he turned on "Slide like Slenderanne," a troubadour comedy series that we'd started our first night at Chalet Serene. We watched four episodes before we all collapsed into bed, and the next morning, we headed to Trauton 4 to see Nanna and Poppie.

"Come in, come in, Euridyne, we need a powerful wind to blow through tonight, so welcome to our home!" I raised my eyebrows in surprise at the Sloan sib's Nanna.

"What, you think I can't use the stream to find out what your name means, oh beloved of my granddaughter? With a name like "Wind of Power," there must be a story, and I bet it's a good one. Drop your bags, and let's eat dinner before it gets cold. Veggie lasagna all around, Poppie. Get it served up hot!"

As we dug into lasagna— delicious veggie lasagna with eggplant, zucchini, mushrooms, and layers of creamy, herby ricotta— I told Portia's grandparents how I got my name.

"My dad is a composer, and before I was conceived— in a lab, that is—" I explained, laughing, "he went into one of his musical storms and wrote a song called 'Euridyne, Wind Divine.' So, when I was born, that was my name."

"And what an auspicious name it is, Euridyne. I do hope you will share the song with us. You know how we troubadours feel about music. We can't help ourselves. And if there's a song and a story for your name, then it means you are doubly charmed. Probably quadruply since you've shown up on Trauton 4 with my grandchildren. They aren't companions for the typical sort of folks."

I grinned at her, "Then I'm in good company. And you make the best lasagna. You'll give me the recipe if I give you the song?"

She laughed, "And I'll give you a tray of it to take on the Good Time with you when you leave."

Ronnie followed my mind as I sent it questing towards his Nanna. Slide Like Slenderanne played on the screen in front of us, but I wasn't focused on the show. My mind was trying to get the flavor of the grandparents I'd had dinner with, but still hadn't figured out.

They reminded me of my musical dad in some ways. Comforting, warm, loving, accepting. Like a hot cup of coffee when you first get up: a familiar smell, a familiar taste, something you can rely on. But Nanna and Poppie didn't have the complexity of Muse. Sharp wit and intelligence, but far more direct and straightforward than my dad.

Ronnie's mind followed mine with interest. The stream show paused, and I realized Shah was asleep on my chest. We were lying on the sofa in the upstairs media room while Ronnie sat on the floor with his back against the couch, Frank asleep in his lap.

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I turned my attention back to Nanna. Her mind was before me, not open, but not closed. No stray thoughts leaked out. But warm love glowed from her. Familiar. Like my dad.

I felt Ronnie's mind watching mine. I showed him my theories that I'd developed as a child. How some people were naturally more resistant to telepaths because of who they were inside. If they were aware of their own thoughts, then they were unlikely to be spewing them out all the time. Ronnie observed with interest, but didn't comment.

I watched Nanna's mind. Not a telepath, but not an average person. More closed of than a typical human mind. Happy. Happy her grandkids were there with a lover and friend. All was well with her family. She was content. I picked up nothing more from her.

I thought back to what the Sloan twins' mom, Annika felt like. Annika was unlike her parents, which was interesting. Annika had a sharp scent to her. Something that stung like too much black pepper. She'd make you mentally sneeze if you were around her mind too long.

Ronnie chuckled mentally. I couldn't tell if he agreed or disagreed, but he thought it was funny. Why was Annika so unlike her parents? Did it have something to do with her Talent for sensing trustworthiness?

Ronnie interrupted my thoughts with a short explanation of facts. An ankle injury while dancing at age fourteen. Annika on the sidelines, spending time with older, retired troubadours while her ankle healed. Her Talent appeared. She never went back to singing and dancing with the troupe. She left Trauton 4 to see the galaxy and met their dad Borden on Sturm.

Ronnie didn't give me anything more than basic facts, so I let those roll around in my mind as I felt around the mental landscape of my girlfriend's mother and parents. Something had happened to Annika. Or maybe she'd always been different than her parents? I had no way of knowing for sure unless I asked, but the flavor of their minds was very different.

Shah stirred on my chest and blinked awake. Oh. I fell asleep. You paused it? What are you two doing? Nanna? Oh, yeah, she has a peaceful mind, doesn't she? Nice to be around.

Umm Hmm, I agreed. Must've been nice to be around when you were kids. I felt Ronnie watching me with interest. He was very keen on this topic, but was keeping his cards close to his chest.

I guess so. I don't really remember.

You don't remember your telepathy as a kid? I remember Dwin and I cataloging people. We made up this system about types of people: normal, everyday folks who spout anxiety almost nonstop, and quieter minds like your grandparents who are more pleasant to be around without curtaining off your mind. Those we called "the dojo crowd" because they had disciplined minds like martial artists.

Hanh. Interesting. I never really thought about it that way. I just shielded against everyone, I guess.

Ronnie perked up. You sure about that, Shah?

She sat up. Hmmm? Whadaya mean, Ronnie?

He gave her a wry feeling.

What, you think I didn't shield against everyone? Shah asked, perplexed.

He raised his eyebrows.

She sent a feeling of irritation and impatience.

Was it you? he asked.

I held my breath. My theories. My theories looked correct! Ronnie's eyebrows and lips quirked, and he gave off a feeling that was wry, questioning, and smug all at once.

Shah's eyebrows screwed up in confusion, and I felt her mind focus. Something passed between them that made my head spin. It was an infinite kaleidoscope. I couldn't tell if it was information, words, memories, or images, but it nearly knocked me out.

Ronnie sectioned off my mind so I stayed conscious but could no longer see what passed between the him and his twin.

Portia gasped then mentally whispered, How long?

Always.

But, Ronnie? Babies?

I remember the hospital. Not well, barely anything, but I knew your mind. I wrapped it up like we were wrapped up in blankets, and you were okay.

Tears fell from Portia's eyes. How long?

When we were two, you started copying me. When we were five and a half, you could do it on your own unless you were tired. When we were seven, you were a pro.

Tears fell down my cheeks. Those tiny children. All alone. Trying to protect themselves and each other from a noisy, noisy world. And no one in their lives knew about it.

Ronnie lifted his head and looked straight into my eyes.

That's not true, Euri. Look again.

I closed my eyes and Portia and I followed his mind. He went straight to Nanna and Poppie downstairs whose minds looked like soft blankets to Ronnie and Shah. Those blankets wrapped around Ronnie's mind and held him with love. They said nothing. There were no words. There wasn't any awareness from those minds, there was just love and acceptance.

They didn't know what they were doing. They didn't know about the telepathy, but they loved Ronnie and Shah, and their love wrapped around their grandkids like a safety blanket.

We didn't have to be here on Trauton 4. They did it when we were on other spheres. It was easier when they were close, so I wanted to come here to stay. The drawings and the animals were the key. Once I figured that out, I knew how to make us safe.

Portia rocked on the sofa, arms hugging herself, crying. I sat up, pulling her against me. Ronnie got up off the floor and sat next to me, his arms and his mental presence around his sister and me, holding us in an embrace more powerful than anything in the Known Cosmos.

I felt her then. My Auntie Ryst. Like a breeze across our minds. The scent of costamelon wafted through us and was gone.

Ronnie said, We were never alone, Euri.

I wept. Was my Auntie with you?

I didn't know who she was, Euri. But I was never alone. Never. Not one day of my life. Probably before I was born, your Auntie was wrapped around my mind. I love reading her journals. Your Auntie loved babies, and I think she loved me and Shah before we were born, even though she never met us in person. No one is ever separate, Euri. Your Auntie knew that better than anybody.

"She must be so happy right now, watching us, listening to us. She couldn't bear suffering. All she wanted in the world was to help people heal."

"If this is what healing feels like, then it really sucks!" Shah said with a bitter chuckle.

"Yeah, it hurts. But it also feels like relief. To finally have the truth. I can feel it in your heart, Portia," I said softly.

She nodded. "Do you think Nanna and Poppie know, Ronnie? How can they not know?"

He shrugged. The feeling I got from him was that they loved and accepted their grandchildren as they were, and they knew that they were different and wanted to protect them from a world that misunderstood them. That was all that was necessary. Ronnie and Shah handled the rest on their own just fine.

I wasn't so sure about the "just fine" part. Ronnie might have been fine, but Shah had not been. She was twenty-three years old, and she was struggling to interact and talk about herself, to make connections with anyone other than her twin. She didn't have any friends. No one to talk to. She was struggling. We had been struggling. I suddenly felt very, very tired.

Go to sleep, Euri. Everything will be fine, Ronnie said. I crashed on the sofa, and knew no more.