Did anyone notice I was gone?

On the seventh day, I predicted when they would find me.
I'd used the Chi spheres only a couple times before, to look into the past and distant future. A few memories. My daughter's face. This was different. This was... testable. I started the usual way, focusing my energies into a spherical shape. I stared into it, pondering. "Show me how they find me," I commanded. Images began to blur. Perhaps this is where the idea for crystal balls came from, as a conduit. Then stolen and misinterpreted. I really don't know.
I saw a river. A bend, a left turn. Trees. Watching faces from the trees.
I saw us turning left, nearing land. Getting closer and closer. Hands reaching.
It was a long time before I could confirm it, but I should have recognized them right away. The red eyes. The catching hands. Daggers. Devil's Stalkers.

On the eleventh day, I found a pair of girl's underwear in the mud near our cabins.
Connor tells me this is a sign that someone is having sex. I am full of hate. As in, it physically sickens me. I think most horrible things.

Later on the eleventh day, it rains. After lunch, because no one wants to go back outside, they play music. Some people start dancing. More join them. That's when I see it. Something hanging from the ceiling, tentacles reaching down, grabbing. Stinging. I get out of there before panic takes me.
Out in the rain, something clicks in me. I've finally worked it out. I've seen those floating things before - mostly at dances - and I know what they are. I know what that thing was stabbing and eating the people below. Nan-Kak. Kakanger. Seedling. Whatever you want to call it, it's a child.
They start as seeds, drifting through people and on the winds of music, until they find a place where food gathers. Lodges, dances, pubs... schools. Many remain small, feeding when they can, whenever groups get caught up in an emotional event. But others find a rich place, where they can feed year round, with large numbers of people. These grow and sprout and flower into their adult forms. I've only ever seen two. Grav-Kak. Giant Death Flower.
The way they move, the way they feed, it reminds me too much of my own tendrils. Maybe I'm a flower, waiting to find a place of my own. Maybe it's us who spread their seeds. Maybe things in their world just evolve the same, the same as ours. I don't know.
I walked back in the rain.

On the fourteenth day, we left on trip.
It's a different world out there. Phantom birds flitter from tree to tree. Great shapes shimmer and ripple beneath the surface of the lake before disappearing. Blue Bears sit on tiny islands and munch on ferns. Island Watchers stare forlornly out over the lake. There's plenty of solid life, too. Hawks, herons, eagles, lots of fish. We even saw a couple beavers. Lots of quiet contemplation.

On the sixteenth day, I met a girl. I think she was dead.
We stopped for lunch on a decent-sized island. Some guys were trying to catch an irritated bird. I strayed a bit away, singing quietly to myself, when I stopped. I saw two trees standing tall nearby and I felt compelled to go between them. Beyond was a small clearing. I saw a thin dirt path leading to a dark, tree-covered area. But curled up at the base of a tree nearby was a girl. She looked perhaps a little younger than I am, wearing a blue dress. She wasn't like the other non-solid things I see. Things may fade in and out depending on my view, but she could be clear as solid one minute and completely gone the next. I approached her. It looked like she'd been crying. She looked at me with a mix of fear and amazement, perhaps astonished that I could see her. She vanished for a second. I looked to the side, back to the dark path. She shook her head wildly. "Don't," she said. At least, she mouthed the word. I'm not certain if I heard her. Slowly I reached out a hand. She took it, her fingers sliding invisibly into mine. I led her to the boats. As we left she tried to get in, she tried, and for ten seconds it seemed she was in the boat with me. But in the end we paddled away as she watched me sadly from the shore.
It was a long time before I could talk after that.

On the twenty-first day we reached rapids.

On the twenty-fourth day they found me.
Not exactly as predicted. The above mentioned was the same - the bend, the river, etc. - but the lighting, the angle, were wrong. Perhaps my mind generated arbitrary details just to form an image. I don't know.
They followed me for a few days before making their move on the twenty-fifth. Many times I was reminded of the Jabberwock. Devil's Stalkers travel in packs of six. They're more dagger than cloak. Hissing, spitting, catching from the sides with their claws. They don't dare touch the water, I note. When the time finally came, I was a bit sick of them.
Funny thing. They work through fear and intimidation. They left it too long; by the time they finally touched me I'd made up my mind not to be afraid. From behind they're dangerous, but stare them down and they're helpless as rabbits in headlights. Long story short, I laughed in their faces and walked away.

On the twenty-fifth day we returned from trip. That night there was a hurricane warning.

On the twenty-sixth day they came for me.
I saw the fire in the sky about half an hour before they arrived. I stayed with a group. They tend not to come near if I'm around people. The giant stopped some distance away from me, watching. It seemed shorter than others. I realized with some humor that it was bending down beneath a tree. I can't say why this amused me. I watched it. It watched me. Once or twice it reached for me, but I backed away.
I wonder if it's possible to get used to staring into the face of death. Slowly the fear bled out of me, leaving only an icy calmness; the stillness of the clouds above the storm. So wrapped up was I in my thoughts of this that the next time I looked it was gone. I turned my back. Stupid, stupid.
I've noticed that each wound affects my solid body more and more. Pain shoots through my spine. My headaches are getting worse. All the energy left me and I stood, trembling, on the spot, afraid that if I took a step my legs would fold up underneath me.
I survived. Nothing came of it.

On the twenty-eighth day I came home.