The Dream Thief, Kari Kilgore [reading well TXT] 📗

It was great to see all the cousins. Give Rethia my love, and let me know about that new niece or nephew. Has she been to a psychic to see what she's having? She's due in, what, a month or so?"

Everyone knew Karl didn't believe in psychics or fortune-tellers any more than he believed some Imp cavorted in The Pit or Jonah circled a great mythical ocean surrounding Alterra. But most everyone played along with those games when someone was pregnant.

"She's due in eight weeks," his mother said, getting to her feet. "But we'd better see you before then. She doesn't want to know which it is, silly goose. I keep telling her that takes so much of the stress away, but you know how she is."

She caught Karl up in a great, tight hug, then stepped aside so the others could do the same.

"That I do, Mother," Karl said. "I think she just likes surprises. I'll get back as soon as I can."

Klia managed to wipe her eyes discretely before she smiled at her middle child. Rethia was the other one Karl would like to see a lot more often. He'd have to make time to do that when the baby drama was over.

"Surprises always suited the two of you better than me," Karl's mother said. She caught Andy in a one-armed hug as he tried to pass by. "And this is another one just like you. See you again soon, Karl?"

He nodded, then grunted when Andy caught his arm and pulled him forward.

"I'll walk you to the corner, big Brother," Andy said. "Be right back."

He almost pushed Karl out the door before anyone else could respond.

Several people were out for Sunday afternoon strolls when Karl and Andy stepped onto the porch. Young couples not much older than Andy, married couples not much older than Karl. Pushing brass-and-leather strollers, pulling brightly painted wagons, walking hand in hand, huge colorful dresses contrasting with dark jackets. The peaceful scene sat uneasily alongside whatever was bothering the younger Gilmore.

"What's up, little Brother?" Karl said.

Andy shook his head, dark brown curls floating over his high forehead. Karl kept his unruly hair a good bit shorter, but otherwise he could have been looking into a mirror. A younger, better rested mirror.

"You know how it is," Andy said. "Can't say a word without Mother overhearing or Father disapproving. I just wanted a minute or two with someone I can talk to."

Karl smiled with one side of his mouth, and though Andy tried to fight it, the two of them burst into laughter. From the day Andy was born, Karl felt a year or two older rather than more than ten. In that moment, he felt like they were exactly the same silly age.

"Out with it, kid."

Andy was still smiling, but his eyes were serious in a heartbeat. He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching as they walked away from the house.

"I hate to bug you about work," Andy said. "I know you can't say much of anything anyway."

Karl counted ten strides while he waited for his brother to go on. When they were too far from the house for anyone to see them, he detoured onto an ornate wrought iron bench against the row of lilacs.

Unless someone hiked up to the tallest point in their parents' house, the tiny window in Karl's rounded turret bedroom, no one would know where they were. Andy sat beside him and sighed in perfect imitation of their mother.

"Come on, what's going on?" Karl said. "You were out of there like a shot before Mother could say a word."

Andy smiled, but this time it was worried rather than amused.

"It's just...I've been hearing a bunch of talk, probably mostly bullshit. But it's been going on for a long time."

He stopped again, looking at the slightly less grand row of houses across the street. They were painted just as elaborately and kept just as neatly, but most were one floor, too small for more than a couple of people.

"Talk about what?" Karl said.

Andy turned to him, barely fifteen but looking a lot older in that moment. He squinted into the distance and chewed his lower lip.

"I suddenly know a lot of people with family members out at the Columns, Karl. A lot."

Karl tried to hide it, but he knew his maddeningly observant brother caught that brief twist of his mouth. Again, Andy was just like their mother.

"You know I can't—"

"I know you can't say much. I do," Andy said. "But hear me out, okay?" He waited until Karl nodded. "I'm used to people having to go every now and then. We all are. But this is different. I've counted more than ten in the last month, and I know I haven't caught all of them. A lot of people keep it really quiet, you know?"

That was how most folks outside of their family felt and acted about Karl working out at Joffrey Columns. Don't talk about the crazy house at all, or it might happen to you.

"I know. Ten people isn't all that unusual, Andy."

"No, that's not all of it. I heard you say you've been busy lately, and I'd bet it wasn't just from new trainees, was it?" Karl looked into his brother's eyes, not trying to hide his scowl. This was definitely crossing the line. "Let's try this. If you weren't extra busy with new patients, what are all the new trainees for?"

"You got me, kid," Karl said. "We've had a heavy workload lately, sure. I'm not sure why you're so worried about it, though. Our family isn't exactly susceptible to that kind of trouble, not for a long time."

"This is more than that," Andy said. "Do you get to see the paperwork, the intake, whatever you call it? The things that have to be filled out when someone new gets there?"

"I see it for my new patients, yeah," he said. "But not for everyone. That's not exactly my department."

Karl was