Dangerous Talents (56 page)

Cele held her breath. She might not know much about this world, but she knew that calling the Kon an Oathbreaker was not a good thing. Her gaze skipped from one man to the next. Tension sparked between them. Even Ragni’s face was tight. All the warriors standing at the edges of the pavilion seemed poised for battle.

“He would not have to break it if another provoked a war he welcomed,” Loloma answered.

“I saw the Outcasts and Renegade Tewakwe encamped together well within your lands, Kikmongwi,” Dahleven said.

“And what were you doing in our lands, without permission? If your purpose there was honorable, why did you not present yourself?”

“I was tracking the men who attacked our borders. I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t you who gave them refuge, Kikmongwi.”

Loloma’s expression grew dark. “The Tewakwe do not make war upon themselves. Yet our children cry at night for the loss of their fathers and uncles. Men killed by you
Bahana
, who do not suffer the losses we have.”

“My daughter’s child is without his father,” Neven shot back. “And many more Nuvinlanders have suffered as well.”

“What’s the matter with all of you?” Cele burst out.

“Celia—” Dahleven touched her shoulder, but she shrugged him off. Everyone else stared in silent surprise, Neven with both brows arced high.

“This is exactly what Jorund wanted! It was Jorund who did this to you. To
both
of you.” She turned to the Kikmongwi. “I don’t know what Jorund told the other Outcasts to do to your people, sir, but I do know that Kon Neven’s family has suffered personally from the Renegade attacks. Lady Kaidlin’s husband was killed, and Sorn, Dahleven’s sworn brother, was murdered in front of me. Jorund could hardly wait to destroy Quartzholm. He wanted to set you at each other’s throats. Don’t give him the victory now that he’s dead.”

Loloma stared at her, then his lips curved in a half smile. He was silent for a moment, then nodded. “It would seem the newborn is wiser than either of us, Kon Neven. Our peoples have suffered equally. I will ask no man-worth to be paid.”

“Nor I.” Neven leaned forward to clasp the Kikmongwi’s forearm. “May we always face our common enemies side by side.”

Loloma returned Neven’s clasp. “May we continue together in trust.”

There was a slight rustle as everyone present relaxed from their hyper-alert state of readiness.

Loloma gestured for his Truth-Sayer to move aside, then turned his attention again to Cele. “Come newborn, and sit beside me.” When she and Dahleven were seated, he continued. “Now tell us, how did you come to travel through the door the Late Comers used?”

Cele shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Those who came after us. As in the days of song, the people of Tu’waqachi, the Fourth World, forgot Taiowa was their Father and turned their hearts from virtuous things.” Loloma’s voice took on a story telling rhythm.

“The sorcerous
Powakas
had turned the hearts of the people. The rains stayed away and the rivers dried. Some of the People remembered however; their
ko’pavi
remained open to the Creator. So Taiowa sent Spider Grandmother to bring his true sons and daughters out of evil to the Fifth World. She told them to dance and call the rain.

“Soon the winds cooled and the sky darkened, all except for a
sipapuni
high above. The clouds released their rain, but it didn’t fall to quench the thirsty earth. It spread on the wind and a rainbow ladder appeared; and so the people began to climb.”

Cele sucked in a sharp breath.
A rainbow
!

“People who remembered their father Taiowa came from all over, but the Late Comers dallied along the way. ‘This land is not so bad,’ they said. ‘Let’s rest here awhile.’ They tarried too long. Taiowa pulled up his rainbow ladder and closed the
sipapuni
.

“Many years passed before they saw their error. The evil of the
Powaka
sorcerers grew strong and the land lay sere and parched like a bone in the drylands. The children of Taiowa were dying and cried out for help. Spider Grandmother heard and pitied them. She drew the sign of the rainbow ladder on the bones of the Mother and opened a way for the Late Comers.”

Cele remembered the drawing of the arch, the footholds, and the climbing men.
Is that what I saw carved on the rocks
?

“The People rejoiced and climbed into the Fifth World. When they arrived, they hung their heads in shame because they hadn’t answered the first call. They didn’t join the Tewakwe or the
Bahana
, the white men who had heeded the summons. Instead, the Late Comers traveled far to the south. They live there still.”

Loloma’s speech returned to a conversational tone. “Spider Grandmother must have shown you her drawing of the ladder, Lady Celia. You are the latest to come, but you are welcome.”

“Thank you.” Cele hesitated, then asked, “There’s no way back, then?” Anticipation pulled her tight as a bowstring. The Tewakwe were her last hope of home.

Loloma shook his head. “We have no magic to send you back. A babe cannot return to the womb, nor can you return to Tu’waqachi. Spider Grandmother brought you here because your
ko’pavi
is open to Taiowa. This is your place. Sing the Creator’s praises and listen for his whisper; he has work here for you to do, as we have seen today.”

Loloma’s words ripped the last of her hope away. All the things of home, big and small were lost to her now. Her job. Her friends. Her life.

Yet something in her felt lighter. Loloma’s words held hope; she had a place here. She glanced at Dahleven, then back at the Tewakwe leader. Maybe she could let the past go. She could move forward.

Loloma spoke again. “But if it is Taiowa’s will that you return, perhaps the Katsinas can show you the way.”

*

Distress tightened a fist on Dahleven’s heart. Celia still wanted to leave. He shouldn’t be surprised, he knew, but he’d hoped he’d given her some hope of happiness here, enough to want to stay.

“You would, perhaps, like to rest now, Lord Dahleven, Lady Celia,” Neven said. “Father Ragnar, would you make arrangements for them?”

Ragni stood and bowed first to Neven and then to the Kikmongwi. Loloma gestured to his man, who also rose. It was a courtesy for the Kikmongwi to forego the assistance of his Truth Sayer in the absence of Ragni, and it boded well for the trust the two leaders needed to have in one another.

“I will have my daughter send a dress to you,” the Kikmongwi said to Celia. “Kon Neven has no women with him.” His tone implied that he thought the fact strange.

“My thanks, Loloma,” Neven said.

Celia smiled and curtsied deeply before following Ragni out of the pavilion.

*

Several paces from Neven’s pavilion Ragni asked with feigned innocence, “Shall I secure two tents for you, or will one do?”

The thought of sleeping with Dahleven again quickened Cele’s pulse even while she felt anxious about what others would think. She felt herself blushing and was surprised to see Dahleven coloring, too.

“One then,” Ragni said, chuckling.

Dahleven’s face grew stormy.

“Actually,” Ragni hastened to add, “we haven’t many tents with us, Lady Celia. I shall give you mine and Dahleven and I can share Father’s, if that will suit?”

“Thank you, Ragni,” Cele said. “I’m surprised you have tents set up at all. Everyone looked so ready to fight when we got here.”

“There was good chance of it, as you saw. But luckily you were here to set us straight.” Ragni grinned, but Cele could tell he meant it more sincerely than his words implied. “We defeated the Renegade’s ambush yesterday afternoon and established a temporary truce with the Tewakwe. There was no reason not to make ourselves comfortable, especially if we might be fighting again today.”

“The Kikmongwi mentioned the Katsinas might know how to send me home. Who are they?” The word probably didn’t mean the same thing it did back home.

“That’s what the Tewakwe call the Elves.” Ragni frowned. “I wouldn’t hold out much hope of that, Celia. The Elves don’t have much to do with us, and that’s a good thing.”

Celia couldn’t help flicking a glance at Dahleven.

Ragni’s brows rose as he looked between them. “There’s a tale there, I’m thinking.”

“Later,” Dahleven growled.

“What can you do about bathing arrangements?” she asked as they paused in front of his tent.

“Not much, I’m afraid. A basin of water is the best I can offer.”

The details were worked out. Ragni and Dahleven cleared his belongings from a pavilion that was tall enough to stand in, and nearly five paces across. The water had just been delivered when two Tewakwe women arrived. One introduced herself as Na’i, Loloma’s daughter. The other carried a folded bundle and a soft basket slung from her shoulder.

Na’i wore tall suede boots and a calf length dress of brown, finely woven cloth. Though cut differently, it was just as carefully tailored as what Nuvinland women wore. Graduated strands of polished amber hung around her neck, and multiple earrings pierced her ears. Her straight black hair was caught back in a braid. “Please accept this gift,” Na’i said. “Momo’a will assist you since you have no women of your own.”

The girl with Na’i stepped forward and bowed her head.

Even folded, Cele could see that the blue, doeskin dress Momo’a carried was beautifully decorated with polished lapis and sparkled with beads of blue crystal.

“You’re very generous,” Cele said. “Thank you.”

“You honor me,” Na’i said, and left.

Cele stripped and Momo’a began sponging off several days of grime. As she bathed, the Kikmongwi’s words sank in and took root. The door home was closed, the matter finished—unless the Elves knew a way. She could try to find them. If she really wanted to go. Did she? Maybe Loloma was right. Perhaps she was meant to be here. She knew Dahleven would say she’d already made a difference. But what about the future?

Momo’a used a wooden paddle to scrape the beaded water from her back. Cele’s attention turned to the quiet girl helping her. “When did your people come to the Fifth World, Momo’a?”

“Over five hundred summers ago. But it has been only two hundred summers since we found the
Bahana
, our light-skinned brothers.”

“I didn’t see any of your people in Nuvinland. Do you ever visit there?”

Momo’a hesitated, then said, “We trade, but the passes are closed by snow most of the year. Travel between us is difficult. We don’t visit the
Bahana
often. Some of them have forgotten that we are all Taiowa’s children.”

Cele winced inwardly. That sounded too familiar. “Are there very many Tewakwe?”

Momo’a patted her dry with a cloth. “The Confederation has settlements all up and down the northern face of the range. We have prospered since Taiowa brought us here. Loloma is Kikmongwi for all.”

Momo’a rubbed a spicy scented oil into her skin, and Cele’s muscles softened under the girl’s skillful hands. She hadn’t thought she’d need help dressing, but when the dress was unfolded, she realized she’d never have managed the lacing alone. Momo’a pulled the ribbons tight in back so that the soft doeskin molded to Cele’s curves. The hemline was slightly higher than on Nuvinlander dresses, just above her ankles. Matching beaded ankle boots completed the outfit, replacing the slippers she’d worn to shreds scrambling through the forest and over rocks.

Momo’a finished by braiding blue ribbons in Cele’s hair.

She was just wishing for a mirror when there was a scratching outside at the tent flap. “I forgot a sheaf of paper,” Ragni called. “Could you slip it out to me?”

Cele found the roll of paper and stepped out into the afternoon sunlight.

Ragni’s reaction was better than a glass. He grinned and his eyes glowed with not so subtle lust. “Had my brother not already come to his senses and claimed you, I wouldn’t allow him another chance. I regret not pressing my opportunity with you.”

Cele blushed but smiled at the praise. “How did you know? Did he kiss and tell?”

“Dahleven?” Ragni huffed a soft laugh. “No. My Talent is Empathy, my lady. To my eyes, you and Dahleven are glowing with affection—and other feelings. It’s not difficult to guess the reason.”

Cele hardly knew what to say. “Oh.”

Momo’a emerged, with the basin of used water supported on one hip.

“Thank you for your help, Momo’a, and convey my gratitude to Na’i again, please. I wish I could repay her generosity, but I have nothing to give in return.”

Ragni leaned close and whispered, “Your ear jewelry, perhaps?”

Cele touched her ears. She’d worn the diamond studs for so long, she’d forgotten she had them on. They were the only things Jeff had given her that she’d kept. “Of course!” Cele removed her earrings. “Please give these to Na’i for me, along with my friendship.” She lay them in Momo’a’s palm without a twinge of regret or loss.

Momo’a’s eyebrows lifted as the sunlight flashed brilliantly in the gems. “I believe she will be pleased to accept both, Lady Celia.”

Dahleven arrived moments later. His muscles strained against a borrowed russet leather tunic and ivory shirt. Parts of her started to tingle as she admired the way his too-tight leather leggings showed off his thighs and rear. She also liked the heated look in his eyes as his gaze swept over her.

Ragni cleared his throat and muttered, “Have pity on me.”

“What?” Dahleven asked, as he continued to look appreciatively at her.

Ragni held the paper low and discretely adjusted himself. “Never mind. I’ve got to go.” He strode quickly away.

Dahleven didn’t give his brother a second look. “Will you walk with me?” There was an oddly diffident note in his voice.

“Of course.”

They climbed up the hill, hand in hand. The sun slanted through the tall trees, tipping the needles with gold, and birds chirped in the branches overhead. An unseen raven cawed. They found a wide, flat rock to sit on, sheltered by a brake of young trees. Cele knew there must be sentries not far away, but couldn’t see them.