Discalimer: I do not own the Old Kingdom, Abhorsen, etc, etc...

Lianne stared at the ceiling. She had been laying there for two hours, on the faded blue bedspread, watching the popcorn ceiling. Listlessly, she turned her head and focused her dark-eyed gaze on a teddy bear, her childhood companion, missing one eye and buried behind a pile of books that were always on her bed.

"You don't believe me either, do you?" The stuffed bear sat there, his guileless black eye matching hers only in color. Lianne's eyes had lost their innocence the first time it happened.

Lianne couldn't say how old she was. Young enough not to understand how different she was, and old enough to be ignored and dislike by the normal ones. It was when she was just beginning to lose herself in books, so she had her nose buried in one, sitting on a swing in the playground when it happened.

It was just a twinge. Nothing much, but enough to make her look up. There was, of course, nothing to see, just kids playing happily and ignoring her. So Lianne looked back down and kept reading. The next day, on the swing again, she felt the same twinge, but weaker, like it was fading. This time, the girl blew a strand of black hair out of her face in exasperation, closed the book, and stood up. Arms outstretched, Lianne felt her way towards the wall of the school, following the feeling as it grew stronger. She was concentrating so hard that she didn't even notice she was stumbling towards a knot of popular kids, who turned to glare at her over their shoulders.

"She must be blind!" they tittered. Lianne ignored them.

Finally, the twinge was as strong as it felt like it would get. She looked down. The cause of all that was nothing, just a bird that had flown into one of the windows. It's neck was bent and broken, the cause of it's death. Is that what I felt? She wondered. Imposs- suddenly, one of the cool kids strutted over and pushed her down. The rough playground concrete tore a hole in her jeans and knee, which she quickly clapped a hand over.

"Hey nerd, why don't you go back to your book?" he sneered. Lianne blushed bright red. Without a second thought, she staggered to her feet, and pounced on him. It was her first fight, and to Lianne's credit, she held her own, but the boy was almost two years older and had the advantage of experience. Soon she was in the principal's office, then the nurse's, facing her mother.

"Catherine Lianne," her mother demanded. "What were you thinking?" Lianne gritted her teeth against the sting of alcohol on her knee and the sting of hearing her first name. "I didn't do anything. He came over and pushed me down."

"Where were you?"

"Near the building, next to all the playground equipment." The woman sighed. She volunteered at the school and knew where the popular kids hung out.

"And why there? I thought you stayed by the swings."

"I do, but I felt a sparrow die and I went over to see." The nurse that was cleaning her cuts and scrapes looked up sharply, and her mother's eyebrows snapped together.

It was still a couple years and a few more incidents until she started seeing the psychiatrist.

"So, Catherine, your telling me you see dead people?"

"It's Lianne. And no, I can feel it. When they die." And she had. It was worst big cities were lots of people had died, she said. And when the deaths were recent. They had always harrumphed and written in there notebook, then asked the usual dumb questions.

"What year is it?"

"2028."

"Where do you live?"

"Corvere, Ancelstierre."

"What is your name?"

"Lianne Duvald."

"Full name?"

"Catherine..."

Eventually, Lianne had learned not to tell anyone. She trained herself not to flinch every time it happened, but the instances where she had given on that she'd felt something stuck with her. Fights occurred at random intervals in her life, usually punctuated by it happening, but sometimes born simply out of cruelty. But now, so close to the end of eight grade and high school- a chance, she thought, to start over- she hadn't been able to stop herself.

It was mandatory for all Ancelstierren students to get a physical at the beginning and half way through the school year. The first time in eighth grade, a nurse had come to the school and checked them there. But this time, the students had to go with their parents to the hospital.

Lianne had always dreaded going to the hospital, even when she was too young to really feel the full effects of it. Once, she had even disguised her violent flu to keep from going. But now, there was no way to avoid it. Even as they drove in to the parking lot, Lianne was experiencing waves of nausea. People had died here, all around, in ambulances and cars as they pulled up. Inside was worse.

"What is the matter with you?" Mrs. Duvald demanded, practically supporting her daughter by the arm. Lianne just shook her head, her usually pale face bloodless. The woman sighed and kept walking toward the reception desk, Lianne limping behind.

Suddenly it was too much. Lianne had learned to deal with small amounts of the feeling, but the hospital had such a concentration of it, her head was nearly reeling. Even as her mother let go of her arm to fill out the paperwork, Lianne was running down the hall, muttering something like, "bathroom, be right back..."

The girl shot down the sterile white corridor, nearly knocking over a nurse with a laden steel cart. She didn't stop until she drew near the end, where it didn't seem so bad. This must be a little used hall, or one with low fatalities. Lianne looked up at the peeling red sign on the wall that read 'Long-Term Pediatrics Ward.' As far as the girl could tell, no one was there. But wait, there was someone, in a room at the end of the corridor. A small, pale little girl. She couldn't have been older than ten, and slender as a twig. Her eyes were closed, and from were she stood in the hall, Lianne could see the delicate tracing of veins on her eyelids. The only sign she was alive was the rise and fall of her thin chest, and the clamor of nurses and doctors around her. Lianne couldn't here what they were saying, they were talking to fast to understand.

"Losing.."

"Heart rate too low..."

And suddenly, the girl died. Lianne could have pinpointed the moment, she felt it much clearer than she ever had before. And somehow, there was the overwhelming need to follow after the spirit. Lianne took a step forward. Her feet did not move, but suddenly she was standing in an icy cold river, it's wicked, playful current dancing around her ankles. The only conspicuous object in the flat plain all around was another person, standing in the middle of the river, seeming to decide whether to follow the current or to approach Lianne. It was the little girl from the hospital. Hardly aware of what she was doing, Lianne reached out and grabbed the girl's wrist, pulling her backwards and towards what she, strangely, knew to be Life-

-and she was back, and freezing. The floor around her feet was covered with frost, for some odd reason. Wasn't it spring? And then she realized, her mother was standing in front of her, the hands on her shoulders shaking, her eyes furious. Lianne, nonplussed, look passed her and listened to a new voice coming from the hospital room.

"I saw her! I did! Where did the girl go?" But then Mrs. Duvald was dragging her away, practically throwing her into the car.

"Good God Lianne, why do you have to do these things? Why do you have to be so much like she was?"

"Like who?" Lianne asked, but her mother didn't answer. They drove home in silence. And when they finally pulled into the garage and entered the kitchen, Lianne's mother told her about Cathlin.

"I always thought you'd grow out of it. All my other brothers and sisters did," her mother began. "Except Cathlin."

"Why haven't we ever visited Aunt Cathlin, then?" Lianne interrupted.

"Cathlin is dead. She brought it on herself, really. She kept on insisting that she could sense death. For a while we ignored it, but it became a real problem when she was your age. That was when she took things too far.

"We were outside one day. It was raining, and your aunt Liddie and I were sitting under the overhang. Cathlin didn't care. She danced around in it, getting soaked to the skin. So she was closest when the car crashed into the old oak tree in front of the house." Mrs. Duvald shook her head. "They never said, but we knew the poor fool was drunk. Well, Liddie and I screamed for your grandfather, but Cathlin ran straight for the car. We followed soon after. And even now, thirty years later, I still remember. All that blood. We knew he was dead the moment we saw him. But Cathlin just stood there like she was frozen. And we realized that she was! The rainwater and blood around her was frozen and frosted. And then all the sudden the man was gasping, and spitting out blood. He survived, and it was a miracle that he did. Liddie and I would have forgotten all about what happened with Cathlin if she didn't insist to our father, later, that she had risen him from the dead. After that, she wouldn't visit the therapist. She became unreasonable. Finally, the only thing left to do was to take her to the asylum." Lianne had never seen that look on her mother's face. It was nostalgic, sad, and bitterly regretful at the same time.

"Cathlin begg- well, she didn't like it there. She wasted away before our eyes like a wraith, and died. She stopped eating. Now do you see why I take you to that bloody expensive psychiatrist? Because I don't want you to end up as bloody crazy as my sister did!" Her voice had risen an octave in the last sentence. Lianne stood up, face red with fury.

"I'm not crazy! I'm not imagining things! You should have listened to your sister when she begged you for mercy!"

Mrs. Duvald turned paper white. The silence stretched out, and when she finally spoke, it was in a whisper.

"I should have known you would end up like her. You looked just like Cathlin, you acted just like her. Always carrying around a bloody book like her best friend. But for a while a was able to think that you might yet change. But your mind was just as batty as hers was, in the end. I should have taken it as an omen when your father died in that car crashed, and you were born as pale as a bloody corpse with all that black hair."

Then Lianne dashed for her room, unable to keep a few tears from escaping her dark eyes. She hadn't stopped to argue out her mother's explanation for the ice, or think once she had reached her bed about how her mother had sworn and mentioned her father, both things she rarely did. But Lianne was not in the mood to think about anything except how terribly life had gone wrong. And after two hours in her room, alone except for bad memories, Lianne realized, she had to leave.

Okay, chapter two should be up soon. Please review!