Darkness Risen (The Ava'Lonan Herstories Book 4) (10 page)

“If I may be the first to report?” None gave
objection. She bowed to Audola. “High Queen Audola, as your Warru First, I
officially report the outcome of the egwae to recover the Heir.” She presented
a warru journal to Audola, who took it but did not open it, meaning that she
would hear the verbal report right then and there. At this cue Otaga drew a
breath and straightened her back.

“I formally report to my Queen: First, and foremost,
the High Heir has been successfully retrieved. She had suffered injury, but no
lasting harm, I am told.

“Second: I announce, only for completeness, the
presence in our ewgae of the delegate of the Katari Tribe Zwin’buta’lngi, the
First Filla Rama’Kyl and her escorts.

“Third: I report treachery in the High Queen’s Realm
on two counts; one, the seeking with intent to destroy sapient life and two, a
direct threat to the life of the High Heir. Warru in distinct Tribe colors
sought the life of the High Heir and the one with her, and pursued them to the
edges of the Cribeau’lons. A comprehensive list of all indicated is in my
written report...” Otaga broke off as Audola’s posture, remaining unchanged,
still acquired a stiffness like granite cooling from lava and her eyes hardened
to diamond in the magma furnace of her rage. But she held her silence, a
command that Otaga complete her report. After an uncomfortable sils, Otaga
resumed.

“Fourth: I report infractions of the law of the
Realm - it has been brought to my attention that unknown persons have bred and
planted dangerous mutated species of plants, plants already inimical, in
certain sections of the unclaimed lons. It was one of these which caused the
Heir injury. It seems quite possible, though only as speculation, that there is
a connection between these plants and the warru attempting to kill the High
Heir. Armed scouts have been left in place to reconnoiter the area for more
information.” Otaga went on to report all the other things that had befallen
and pursued them, the traps, the attacks by wumans and beasts, the desperate
fighting, the healing of the Cribeau, the treachery and enslavement of the
Katari by wumans. Everything she had noted in her journal, she recounted for
those who had not been present. The picture she painted was truly frightening,
and when she was finally done, all eyes turned to the High Queen, fear becoming
a new member of the lorn, seated among them.

The High Queen’s rage turned to silence, deep and
patient as an underground steam vent, building to the blowing point. None dared
say anything while the High Queen’s silence grew solid and tangible as she
digested this news. R’Kyl, immobile along with the rest, at last understood the
reputation of the Obsidian Queen’s wrath. Even her own mother, the Herdress,
did not wield power of rage such as this. Awed, she watched and waited.

“These things,” she said finally, her voice echoing
just the slightest bit, “must be addressed at once. Thiam, Ashmisa, send a
message now to three eboku of investigative warru. Apprise them of the
situation. Otaga, is that all?”

“No, Av’One. I have one last thing to report. Acts
of treason, two counts. One: I formally report the death of the High Queen’s out
runners, sent to shorten the way for the egwae. The image was captured with the
assistance of R’Kyl and her escorts. Two: the means of their death and an
attack upon this egwae, both by beings that seemed Nih’macha, constructs. Their
origin is unknown.”

This time all hints of the rage disappeared as Audola
closed her eyes. But there was a titanic shift of power, a gathering of forces,
like the movement of tectonic plates, felt more than heard, sensed more than
felt. The stillness before the eruption. When she opened her eyes they were a
flat black, and when she looked Dariaku and Sinyi, they seemed transfixed for a
moment, caught in a hypnotic stare that robbed them of animation. Then they
were ‘tunning almost audibly to warru and assistants at T’Av’li, setting things
into motion that would come to fruition much later. There would be a reckoning
with those who dared to break the laws of Ava’Lona set by the Goddesses
themselves, and not even the far reaches of Ava’Lona would be enough for the
ones responsible to hide.

Otaga bowed, just a bit stiffly, to show that she
had reached the end of her report.

A long sils followed, wherein no one else had
anything to put forth. Dariaku considered, then decided it might be best to
speak to Audola alone, if the opportunity arose.

Jeliya waited through the five heartbeat sils, then
sat up straight and bowed.

“As High Heir to the High Queen, I wished to be last
to report.” The attention of the group was like a weight on her, a burden she
didn’t want to bear. She shook of the feeling and continued. “Mother, I have
much to tell. But first, as I have told Otaga, I found out the cause of the
Zehj’Ba.”

Of the surprises already dropped in the group so
far, this was far and away the most incredible to those who had not gone on the
search. None seemed to dare say anything lest she take the statement back. She
raised her eyes and glanced around. Their wonderment was almost funny to
behold. She drew a breath.

“I went in search of the being called the Lor’av’ona.
This was after I had found the journal of the High Queen Jenikia’s maddi.
Following a trail of hints and legends, I tracked him to the sor’n-weste most
of the unclaimed lons. There I sent most of my escort away - I figured that
such a large number of people would surely alert - this being, if we ever
managed to get close to him. I took only one, whose fate is unknown to me.” She
felt a deep shame and anger over the lost warru - he was as much her responsibility
as she had been his. Her duties permitting, she would learn his fate and avenge
him if possible or necessary. She had a feeling it would be necessary.

“We set up a camp, and I bid him to stay while I
went out to search alone. He didn’t like the idea, but I didn’t give him much
choice. For two ten’turns I found nothing. I was about to give up when I picked
up his trail - the Lor’av’ona. For another ten’turn I tracked him, and set
non-lethal, non-injuring traps so that I could question him. But he evaded all
of them. Always I was two paces behind, but I could never close the distance.
Finally, in desperation, I set up a Katari mating snare for him and lay in
wait.” R’Kyl looked startled to hear this and gazed wonderingly at her. But no
more wonderingly than the others.

“The idea was Pentuk’s” Jeliya admitted, smiling at
her friend. “And it worked. Or it
would
have worked. The fruit enticed
him and he entered the circle. But - I was unprepared for the sight of him. He
was breathtaking.” She stopped a moment in remembrance, the worried glances
moving around her unnoticed. “I, stationed in a ferr’flambeaux tree, leaned
forward inadvertently-” Otaga clucked her tongue disapprovingly “-and the
branch broke. I fell into what at first glance appeared to be an ordinary patch
of thrista nettle. But it was not. It turned out to be a new,
created
variety of the plant, the effects of which were magnified ten to twelve times.”
She paused and drew a sigh, already tired. Her rapt audience waited impatiently
for her next words. She looked at her hands.

“I - the next part is rather - confused. I was in
fever delirium. I was rescued and treated - by him. By the one I was trying to
trap. If I had uttered the catch-phrases of the trap, and
then
fallen -
I would have died, and he would have been powerless to aid me.” There were
inarticulate sounds at the very close margin by which she had survived.

“But he rescued me. And treated me for the poison.
It seems he is something of a natural healer, with some skills of an ol’bey’one,
and other skills I’ve never heard of before. At one point I did actually come
close to death-” it was like the story of someone else, of some other one’s
life, it seemed to have happened so long ago, “-I saw the face of the Beloved-”

Audola’s sharp intake of breath made Jeliya stop and
glance up. And her mother’s eyes showed the haunted shadows of the memory of
that instant when she knew her daughter walked the thin line between life and
the Beloved’s embrace. It brought her own words slamming home, and she felt
tears unafraid of shame beckon.

“I’m so sorry, Mother,” she whispered. “I – I should
have known you’d know, that you would feel it. I’m so sorry. I was a fool, a
foolish child, and I almost paid a fool’s price.”

Audola gave a slight nod of acknowledgement through
the shadows. It said that all that mattered was that Jeliya was alive.

Jeliya swallowed and continued. “He bared his soul
to mine to save me. It forged a link between us. When I finally overcame the
fever, he began nursing me back to health. And I began to grope for
information.” She furrowed her brows. “I had to be very cruel to get it,” she
said, pained, thinking of the hurt she had caused him. “I got him to admit that
he had known Jenikia and that he knew what the source of the Zehj’Ba was,
though he did not tell me at the time. Then, I went into lor’den - I couldn’t
performed the Rite of Solu in my illness, for about a ten’turn and one, and he
apparently did not know that he had to do it for me. I tried to stave it off by
invoking the first and second orders of the Rite, but it was too advanced. Then
- things get confused again.” She frowned, struggling to remember. “I
think
he took me out to a place where I could be in direct Av’light. I did not tell
you that in addition to fever, the poison attacked my digestion, and my eyes,
making them intolerant to light of any kind. He had them covered all the time,
so I couldn’t see where I was, or anything at all. Anyway, I think that I
performed the Rite again and that it got rid of the lor’den.

“We talked more, and together we healed an abarine
graa. And around that time I felt the Rite of Finding from Mother and found out
just how serious the link was between him and me. It was beyond anything I had
ever seen or heard of. I tried to sever it and failed. I had begun getting all
the signs of the Jur’Av’chi from my first turn of coherence. And when I finally
tried my sight after he’d repaired all that he could, we - connected. Deeply.
In that connection he saw the Rite of Finding upon me, and among other things,
I saw in his mind, the cause of the Zehj’Ba.”

“Which was?” Jarisa prompted, beating all else to
the question.

“It is the child. The still-born between him and
Jenikia. In some way the child still lives, and it feeds on the Av’ru.”

“Dear Goddess of Mercy!” Ashmisa cried, amidst a
chorus of other oaths.

“Like a lor’ugawu,” Otaga said in distaste, disgust.

“But,” Jeliya said in the same, soft tone, and there
was instant silence, “there is more. Once he saw the Rite on me, he made plans
to take me from his home. And right about then the warru found us.

“Or nearly. The outer protective rites on his home
alerted him of our imminent discovery. He had constructed a harness in which to
secure me to his back and we left his home, running for our lives. Hundreds of
warru filled the unclaimed lons in the next three or four turns, all dressed in
one Tribe’s colors or another, all seeking our lives. At first we managed to
avoid them and circumvent them, but they kept filling their numbers until they
out-peopled the trees. Eventually we were sighted and they began to chase us.
For turns, I’m not sure how many, we ran, almost non-stop - or he ran, and I
was carried on his lower back. In addition to carrying me and our supplies,
and
fighting and fleeing, he was also protecting me from the elements of the
rain-forests. He was soon at the end of his strength. So at one time I took
what av’rita I had and created a very short, very unstable av’tun, and took us
to a place, a cave, where we could rest. The abarine we had healed found us and
brought us food. We slept most of a turn, then ate as much as we could, then
moved on again. But the ones seeking us soon found us again. And he ran and
ran, through light and dark, until a warru put a sparrowette through his
shoulder. I took as much of his pain and injury as I could upon myself, and he
half healed the wound and we continued. But while he was healing himself, and
the warru were closing in - the - the ground began to shake, and we got away. I
don’t know what caused it, but it helped us escape. After that we just ran
blindly, until, miraculously it seemed the pursuit just fell away. We had
blundered into the Cribeau’Lons, but I didn’t know that. All I knew was that I
had stopped hearing and sensing pursuit. I tried to get him to stop but he was
almost totally withdrawn, only running. So I – I shouted into his mind, he went
into shock and dropped cold. And I was trapped on his back.”

She stopped to take a breath, glanced around at
their faces. Each was etched in its own mask of disbelief and horror. Pentuk
was crying softly and huddled to Staventu. The Five Voices and the Av’lati were
more subtle in their distress – Ashmisa was most obvious, busy chronicling
Jeliya’s story, the frown on her face not from concentration; Jarisa, Sinyi,
Thiam and Dariaku gazed at her with unreadable expressions, each like a statue.
Luyon had his eyes speculatively on the floor, his chin pinch tightly between
thumb and forefinger. Her brothers wore identical expressions of anger and
outrage. Her mother was rock rigid, her face a closed mask, but looking at her
with eyes that were not completely bulwarked and not completely dry, as though
she were consciously allowing tears to show but not to fall. R’Kyl was
motionless, watching her with eyes like dark moons, large with curiosity and
sympathy and admiration. Otaga’s face was grim, her eyes like flint. All were
letting their emotions show in some way, as much as custom allowed. All waited,
without a word.