Black (21 page)

“Just now, did you dream of the histories?”

Tom glanced at Michal, who arched a fuzzy eyebrow.

“I was only out for a few seconds,” Tom said.

“Dreams do not keep time,” Tanis said.

There was no hiding it from the leader.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I believe I did dream.”

“Did you go to the history books and read about Napoleon?”

What was Michal thinking of this exchange? Tanis wasn't hiding anything. No, of course not. He was purely innocent.

“No,” Tom said. “Why would I do that?”

“Have you forgotten, man? I will teach you how
to fight, and you will open my mind to the histories. It was our understanding!”

“It was?”

“It was my understanding. What do you think, Michal? Since Thomas Hunter seems to have unusual access to the histories and I am a very gifted fighter, I thought we would make a wonderful team, he and I. If we ever were to mount an expedition to the black forest, Thomas could be very helpful. Yes?”

The Roush frowned thoughtfully. “Hmm . . .”

Tom assumed that Michal would disapprove outright. But he didn't .He seemed in some way subservient to Tanis.

“It's an interesting idea, the two of you pairing up. But the expedition is a foolish notion on all counts. It would be like seeking a cliff to lean over. Are you so interested in seeing whether you will fall?”

“Then at the very least, Thomas could teach me more of the histories,” Tanis said. “I understand why you won't .As you say, interfering with us is not your job, yes? The histories could interfere, you say. Understood. But Thomas Hunter is not a Roush. And the fact that he's here, having these dreams, must mean Elyon has willed it. Perhaps caused it! It's only natural that we form this bond. Wouldn't you agree?”

Innocence clearly didn't compromise the man's intelligence.

“The histories are oral for a reason,” Michal said cautiously. “I would think very carefully before tempting that tradition.”

Tom stepped forward. “Actually . . .” He stopped, remembering his promise to the Roush.

Michal eyed him. “Yes, Thomas? Actually what?”

“Well, to be perfectly honest, there were a few questions that I had about the histories too. I seem to be stuck in a certain time, just before the Great Deception. In my dreams, my sister and I seem to think we might be able to prevent the virus from being released. We think that may be our purpose. Maybe you could help me to do this. Make any sense?”

“No. Not really,” Michal said. “How can you stop something that has already happened? You see, these dreams are not helpful. They are keeping you in a state of disorientation. They might actually be the
cause
of your continued amnesia. You should be focusing on other things now, not trivia from the distant past. Does
that
make sense?”

“You're right, you're right. Perfect sense, but in my dreams it doesn't make perfect sense.”

“And you want me to encourage these dreams? How about you, Tanis? Does this make sense to you?”

“Perfect. But if the dreams persist, they may have another purpose. How to make weapons, for example.”

“Weapons! Why would you need weapons?” Michal demanded.

“To fight the Shataiki, of course!”

“You will fight them with your heart!” the Roush cried. “Forget the weapons! I will tell you something from the histories now, and then I will never speak to either of you of them again. There was a saying I want you to remember. It was used poorly then, but it will serve you both well now. Make love, not war, they said. Think of this, Tanis, when you consider making your weapons. Make love, not war.”

Tanis looked stricken. He threw his hands wide, palms up. “You question my motives? Is there a man you know who is more versed in the Great Romance than I? No! I would rescue, as Elyon would rescue. If I would need a weapon to dispatch the black bats, is it even questionable? Is anything I suggest wrong?”

“No. And yes, you are a great lover of Elyon. I would never question your motives or your passions, Tanis. Do you hear me? Never!”

Tanis's eyes flashed desperately. He lifted a fist to the sky and cried out, “Elyon, oh, Elyon, I would never withhold my love from you! I would dive into your bosom and drink deep of your heart! I will never forsake you. Never!”

Tears wet Michal's eyes. It was the first time Tom had seen such emotion from the stoic Roush, and it surprised him.

Tanis paced back and forth quickly. “I must write a story for Elyon. I must speak of my love and the Great Romance and the rescuing of everything that is his! I have been inspired. Thank you, thank you both for this.” He turned to Thomas. “We will talk later, my young apprentice. You are ready to win the beauty?”

His reference to the anticipated romance between him and Rachelle made Tom feel suddenly lightheaded. “Yes, I think so. I think it's all coming back.” Slowly. Too slowly.

“That's my boy!” Tanis slapped him on the back. “Wonderful. Remember, he chooses.”

Tom nodded. “Chooses. Got it.”

“He pursues.”

A pause. He was expected to repeat. “He pursues.”

“He rescues.”

“He rescues.”

“He woos.”

“He woos.”

“He protects.”

“He protects.”

“He lavishes.”

“That was the extra one.”

Tanis pumped his fist. “He lavishes. It's a good one, and I'm going to include it in the story I will write now.”

Tom mimicked Tanis with his fist. “He lavishes!”

“And so will you.”

“And so will you.”

“No, I. You say, ‘So will
I
.'”

“And so will I,” Tom said.

“And now I am off. A story is in the making!” Tanis dipped his head at both of them. “Until the Gathering.” He ran a few yards and whirled around.

“Should I tell her you are waiting?”

“Who?”

“The beauty! Rachelle, lad! Rachelle, the beauty!”

Now? He wasn't even sure how to win a beauty. But especially now, in front of Michal, he had to follow the Roush's advice. Pretend.

“Sure,” Tom said.

“Ha!” Off he ran.

Michal watched Tanis run. “Stunning, wonderful, magnificent.”

“You can't seem to make up your mind about him,” Tom said.

“He is human! I can't help but admire any human.”

“Right. Yes, of course.”

Tanis was already a tiny figure, running up the main street, probably telling the whole world that the dashing visitor from the other side was on the hill now, prepared to woo and win his beauty. Rachelle.

Michal turned from the valley. “The Great Romance. The Gathering. You have no idea what I would give to have what you have.” He hopped a few yards and gazed longingly at the horizon. “It's all a bit much at times. I can hardly stand to sit by and watch.”

That was it. There was no way Tom could question Michal's decision on withholding the histories after a spiel like that. It was all a bunch of nonsense any—

From the corner of his eye he saw a figure racing through the village below, and his heart bolted in his chest. It was Rachelle. He couldn't see her face from this distance, but he saw her blue dress. She was racing for the arching village entrance, like a child sprinting to catch the ice-cream truck.

Tanis had told her.

Panic swept through his bones. What had he gotten himself into? Wasn't this all going a bit fast? He'd been in the valley for less
than a day. Love seemed to be a currency they were all swamped with. Naturally, without evil to rob their hearts, it would be.

Which meant he, too, was full of love. It would all come back. This was the way it worked.

Rachelle slowed at the entrance and started to meander up the hill. It was hard to imagine that anyone would be so eager to meet him, much less be romanced by him. Was he so appealing? Attractive?

“Michal!” He cleared his throat. “Michal.”

The Roush was staring down the hill, swaying with anticipation.

“Michal, you have to help me.”

“And take the fun out of it? It's in your heart, Thomas. Win her!”

“I don't know
how
to win her! I forget how!”

“No, you don't ;no, you don't forget! Some things you can't forget.”

“She's walking up here!” Tom paced quickly. “I don't know what she expects.”

“You're nervous; that's good. That's a good sign.”

“It is?”

“It betrays your true feelings!”

Tom stopped and stared at him. True enough. Why was he so nervous? Because he did want very much to impress the stunning woman sauntering up the hill toward him.

The realization only made it worse. Much worse.

“At least give me a pointer,” he said. “Should I just stand here?”

“Didn't Tanis tell you? Okay.” Michal lifted his wing and guided Tom up the hill, toward the forest. “Okay, not speaking from experience but from what I've seen, and I have seen a few to be sure, I would suggest you wait in the trees up there.” His wings quivered. “Intrigue and mystery are what you're after, I think. Dear, dear. I should go. She's coming closer. I should go.”

Michal waddled off, hopped twice, and took to the air.

“Michal!”

But Michal was gone.

Tom whirled back, saw that Rachelle was making good time up the hill, hands behind her back, looking nonchalantly away. He ducked down, despite his full knowledge that she'd seen him, and ran for the top.

He was beginning to think he'd gone too far into the trees. That the large amber tree behind which he'd hidden camouflaged him too well. She'd missed him. He wasn't even sure why he was hiding. Did rescuing the beauty look anything like hide-and-seek?

But he couldn't stand out in the open with his arms folded, pretending to be a mighty warrior. On the other hand, Tanis might do that. Maybe he should.

He poked his head around the tree.

No sign of her. The forest glowed in a dazzling display of color. Red and blue and amber in this section. Birds chirped overhead. A light breeze swept the rich scent of roses through his nostrils.

But no sign of Rachelle.

He stepped out, suddenly worried that he'd lost her. Should he call out? No, that would only make it clear that he'd lost her. She wanted to be chosen, which sounded more like seeking and finding than calling out like a frightened boy lost in the forest. And although it was true that part of his anxiousness was motivated by this unabashed approach to romance, in all honesty he was very much attracted to her. Perhaps meant for her.

A flash of blue caught the corner of his eye. He jerked to his right.

Gone! His heart pounded. But it had been her, about fifty yards that way, between two huge trees.

Rachelle suddenly walked into the open, stopped, stared directly at him, and then disappeared without so much as a smile.

Tom stood rooted for a full five count.
Go after her, you idiot! Run!

He ran. Around a tree. Crashing through the underbrush like a stampeding rhino.

Stop! You're making too much noise!

He pulled up behind a tree and looked around it. Nothing. He walked forward in the direction she'd gone. But there was nothing. She'd vanished?

“Psst.”

Tom spun around. Rachelle leaned against a tree, arms crossed. A provocative smile crossed her lips. She winked. Then she slipped around the tree and was gone.

He ran after her. But again she'd vanished. This time he sprinted from tree to tree, looking, winded now.

When she did appear, it was like the last time, suddenly and casually, leaning against another tree behind him. She raised her eyebrow and grinned. Then again she was gone.

It struck Tom then that he hadn't been paying any mind to the rescuing part of this romance. Maybe that's why she was leading him on. He'd chosen her by running after her, but she was waiting for him to show his strength. The time for subtlety had passed.

The show Tanis and Palus had put on raced through his mind.

He yelled the first thing that came to mind. “Hark, what see I? It is a streak of black in the trees!” He ran in the direction Rachelle had vanished. “Come hither, my dear!” He desperately hoped that wasn't too forward. “Come so that I mightest protectest thou!”

Mightest protectest thou? Was that the way Tanis had put it?

“Oh, dear!”

Rachelle!

She jumped out from behind a tree to his left, eyes round, one hand raised to her lips. “Where?”

Where? He shoved a finger in the opposite direction. “There!”

She cried out and ran toward him. The breeze whipped her blue dress around the leggings she wore. She grabbed his shoulder and hid behind him.

Tom was so stunned by his sudden success that he lost track of the black bats for a moment. He stared at her face, now only inches from his own. The forest fell silent. He could smell her breath. Like lilacs.