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Stealer of Secrets

By Cassandra Hamm

Thoughts flooded Adalai’s roving mind, most of which were not her own.

He said he’d be here…

…not a telepath. At least the one in the forest stays away…

No one will hear…

Adalai, sitting cross-legged on the forest floor, focused on the last voice and thrust up her mental blockades to keep the others out as best she could.

No one’s around, the voice said. No one’s ever around.

Where was he? The sea? People always tried the sea. She’d sometimes found the bodies floating back up to the shore during her failures.

It’d be a good way to die.

It had to be the sea. Adalai leaped to her feet in a spray of leaves and sprinted through the shadowed forest.

So cold.

Her lungs burned as she peered through the thinning trees. Moonlight glinted off the icy blue surface of the Kayoed Sea. Was he even here? Or had he already submerged himself?

Tempests! The scream tore through her mind. I don’t want this anymore—Get me out! Help! Someone!

She ran across the black sand in a few paces and dove headfirst into the frigid water, barely avoiding the rocky bottom.

Help! cried the voice. I don’t want to die this way!

Adalai pried open her eyes and searched for movement. There! She grabbed the thrashing figure and dragged him toward the surface.

Who’s there?

He wasn’t as heavy as she’d thought he’d be—just a bag of bones, really. They burst through the surface, and she gulped in air before heading for the shore.

So cold… want to sleep.

Adalai hauled him onto the beach. He gasped and choked, spewing water all over her tunic. She flinched. His thoughts raged—What happened? Tempests, I hurt all over… Who’s this?

His eyes seared into hers. There was no disgust in them—not yet. Not before he knew about her gift. But it would come soon.

“Are you real?” he rasped. “Or am I dead?”

“I’m real,” she said.

“I didn’t think anyone would hear. Or notice. No one does.” She saved me, he was thinking. She cared. Tempests, she’s beautiful.

Heat flushed her cheeks. “I heard.” He didn’t have to know that she’d actually heard his thoughts. Not yet.

“Thank you.” He sat up with a wince. Water plastered thick, dark hair to his forehead. Who is she? he thought again. “How did you—?”

“I saw you jump in.” She shoved down the guilt. “You’re safe now.”

Maybe I don’t want to be safe.

Her stomach clenched. “What’s your name?” Maybe that’d distract him.

“Torrian.” He coughed again. “Yours?”

“Adalai.”

Wow. That’s beautiful.

She flushed darker.

She’s just so beautiful. And strange. How did she find me? I thought no one was around when I went into the water.

She bit her lip. Just a few more moments pretending like she could have a friend.

I need to tell her. To tell someone. “Adalai, I wanted to drown.” Torrian’s jaw clenched as he looked back at the Kayoed Sea, a stark blue in comparison with the dark sand. “I wanted death.”

“And do you still?”

Yes, he thought. “I don’t know.”

Now was the part where she needed to show him all the loneliness of the world—show him that he wasn’t alone in his pain, that everyone was desperate for connection. But the thought of being vulnerable always made her hands turn to ice.

It’s so weird, like she can see inside me. “I’m so—” His voice caught. “Lonely.”

No more secrets. Adalai pressed her icy hand to Torrian’s dripping forehead. Thoughts spilled from her brain into his—both her thoughts and those of everyone in the village. He gasped, but she kept her hand firmly planted.

No one ever listens…

I wish somebody cared…

It would be better if I were dead…

Tears slid down her cheeks as each silent cry sliced into her heart.

See them? she thought. They’re all lonely. We’re all lonely. 

Torrian slumped back on the black sand. The connection snapped, and Adalai wrenched back control. She focused on Torrian’s thoughts, but echoes of the others’ pain lingered.

“Who are you?” Torrian pressed his sand-crusted hand to his head. “What did you do to me?” It’s like I could hear a thousand voices in my head… and one of them sounded like hers.

“Don’t you know who I am?” The tears kept flowing. “I’m the stealer of secrets.”

“You’re—you’re the telepath who lives in the wood.” His mouth dropped open. “I’ve heard of you.” They say she’s crazy, sees inside your mind, hears your thoughts. Can she hear me right now?

“Yes,” she whispered. “I can hear everything.”

His eyes widened. What? But… then…

“I heard you when you were about to drown.” Adalai hugged her knees to her chest, the sand crunching beneath her. Water lapped against the shore in an irritating, impossible-to-ignore rhythm.

That’s how she found me? But… she said…

“I lied.” She rested her head against her knees.

Everyone hates telepaths, so I guess that makes sense. I mean, it’s a little freaky knowing she’s probably listening right now.

“I am. Do you hate me yet?” She choked on the words.

His hand slipped into hers. She lifted her head from her knees. Heat spread from her hand to the rest of her body.

For moons and moons, it’s just been this dark cloud, and I scream and scream for help, and no one hears. But you heard.

Adalai swallowed a sob.

Torrian squeezed her hand. I’m not alone anymore. Because of you. So, thank you.

He didn’t hate her. Not yet, at least.

You’re not alone anymore, either, he thought.

The words echoed in her mind and filled a void she hadn’t known existed. The waves lapped against the dark shore, syncing up to the rhythm of her heart. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said. Me too.


Can you guess which song from the 1970's inspired this story? Share in the comments!

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Cassandra Hamm is a writer who has always been fascinated by the inner workings of the human mind. She received her B.S. in psychology and continues to apply her knowledge to her characters. She is a Community Assistant for the Young Writers Workshop and teaches at Young Writer Lessons, both of which are affiliated with The Young Writer.


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