Darkness Risen (The Ava'Lonan Herstories Book 4) (6 page)

“Am I so predictable?” Soku laughed, taking them
with a bow of thanks.

“Only to me, my Queen. A good Voice should be able
to anticipate as least some of her Queen’s needs.” The Voice finally cracked a
smile. “Only three or four are worth serious consideration. Most of the others
are just opportunistic or desperate.” A tone, as of an undercurrent of
amusement, made her voice bright as satin.

“What is it?” Soku responded to the vocal cue,
enjoying her Voice’s pleasure at surprising her. Barajini clapped, and two more
assistants came in, leading gliding tables piled high with thick sheaves of
papi’ras.

“Once word got out that so many had petitioned to
join, many of those who were undecided - decided,” Barajini did not sound smug,
but she did not have to.

“How many?” Soku could not take her eyes off the
stacks. Barajini dismissed the four assistants.

“About fifty. Including Indines sul Arine.” The
Voice held up one of the contracts.

“Set it aside with the other petitions for
consideration,” Soku waved it away. Fifty more of her original one hundred!
That was more than she had anticipated. Then she looked speculatively at her
Voice. “Just - how did word get around?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Barajini held her hands up. “Much as I would like to
claim such cunning, majesty, it was not my doing. I gathered that the Queens in
our Ya were approached by others, once our claim was cleared. When the questions
became pointed, some of those undecided saw the wisdom of taking the chance on
our venture.”

Soku contemplated the stacks again. “Hold them all
for a ten’turn, then send the ones most advantageous to us first for approval.
The others we will hold for a while more.”

It was no bad thing to let those who had agreed
immediately to have a slight advantage over the others. The first eighteen,
including herself, would be able to begin surveying for locations first, and
thus would have their port arches up first. In addition, she could begin
setting up the framework in stages, rather than dealing with all of it at once.
There was so much work to be done!

*:And Barajini - the protections on our records?:*
Soku fully expected her enemies to continue to try to slip something
incriminating into her records - if she, the progenitor of the Yakan’tsu, could
not get approval, the whole thing would come to naught. Since Barajini’s
attack, special protections had been placed on all the Doan documents, public
and private.

*:No tampering as of yet,:* the Voice said. Soku
smiled inside and plunged eagerly into the piles of papi’ras.

the light,
delirious but not drunk on the beat of the drums of morn, turned...

A drum beat sounded in the receiving lain, waking
Jeliya, confusing her for a moment as she looked around at unfamiliar
surroundings. She blinked. Where were the walls of her obin’tu? She was in a
well-appointed sleeping lain. Then she remembered. After receiving a reply to
the announcement that they had returned, they had been directed to av’tun to a
vacant guest-house for nobility, outside the City proper. That had occurred the
turn before, and she had slept last eve in a real pallet with real silk
bedding, and had had a real royal meal. Servants had come from the Palace to
attend her. And she wanted to cry for loss of the simplicity of Gavaron’s home.

The drum was a formal announcement of the imminent
arrival of a visitor. It was not the royal summons but the rhythm of someone
important. Jeliya had half a san’chron to get herself ready. The servants and
maddi came in like a flurry of leaves and descended on her, a whirlwind of bath
water and soft silk wraps and scented oil and lotion. They worked a minor
miracle in the time they had, and when they were through Jeliya felt scrubbed
to within an inch of her life and ready to slide off the pallet from all the
silk on her. Not to mention weighed down by all the jewelry and hair ornaments
so that she was positive that she could not stand even with help. Her egwae
leaders, including R’Kyl, swept in just as her torturers had stepped back to
reveal her. She felt strange in the finery, having been without it for so long.

She had been half right. She could not stand without
help, but it was not because of the jewelry, but from pure, simple fatigue.
Supported subtly by her brothers, and followed by the other core members of the
egwae, Jeliya entered the receiving lain to wait for their guest.

Right on time, an av’tun bloomed into being and out
stepped...

“Ashmisa!” Jeliya exclaimed. She held her arms out
in welcome.

The Sixth Voice smiled and came forward to embrace
her. Almost unnoticed behind her was the High Family ol’bey’woman, D’rad’ni.

“Heiress. We have missed you; our hearts are filled
with light at your restoration to us,” the Voice said, hugging her hard, then
holding her back to look her over scrutinizingly. Then, instead of commenting
on Jeliya’s state of health, she stepped back and gave the ritual greeting
including all of them. They all replied in kind.

“I bring a missive from your mother, the High
Queen,” Ashmisa said formally. “After D’rad’ni has examined you, I will tell
you her words.”

Jeliya nodded, and for a san’chron submitted to the ol’bey’s
examination. D’rad’ni remained impassive throughout, then took Jahun’no aside
to confer with him. Finally she came back, gave a single nod to the Voice, and
av’tunned away.

“What does the High Queen say?” Jeliya asked formally,
pulling her tired and pained body as erect as she could.

“You are to proceed directly, with my assistance, to
the farthest vacant Lan’mba from the Palace T’Av’li, and incidentally, closest
to your present location. You will remain there and recuperate from your
trial-filled journey until the last turn of Lor’ya waxing. Then she will summon
you to her presence.”

Jeliya stared into Ashmisa’a eyes, looking for
answers to her many half-born questions, but seeing none. The turn before the
beginning of the De’en’nu Festival? That smacked of political intrigue of some
type. Was that why she had not been allowed to go straight to the Palace? Well,
orders were orders. She stepped back, and bowed her head once in formal
acceptance of the High Queen’s words. Questions and explanations would have to
wait until later.

the light
turned...

The av’tun disgorged D’rad’ni into the general
receiving lain of the Palace main floor, where official visitors could av’tun
in unannounced. The ‘tun winked out of existence behind her as she paused a
moment to get her bearings and wave away the official that came forward. She
did not often come here, but she would rather that her presence were not
announced.

“How is she?”

The ol’bey’woman jumped at the tenor male voice,
turned to see the First Voice/Prince Consort standing waiting for her.

“First Voice - I mean, Av’lati,” she said, bowing
and spreading her arms. He returned the courtesy but his eyes were heavy with
impatience. She did not bother to begin the ritual greeting since he had cut
through protocol with his question, which meant that he was more concerned with
information than being properly formal. “I was just about to come to see you,”
she said, stalling a bit to gather herself. He moved toward her like a curious
predator that was not hungry, just - curious.

“How is she?” he asked again. D’rad’ni glanced
around, noting the ubiquitous guards, then made a small motion toward the
doorway.

“Shall we walk toward my suite? I must put my things
away,” she said.

Luyon looked deep into her eyes then nodded. Was
what she had to say that disturbing? Her eyes said it was. They walked a bit
and she wove a subtle rite of privacy around them.

*:She is - seems to be recovering nicely,:* she
began as they moved slowly through the halls toward the upper levels. *:It is
apparent that she was injured and poisoned, but the poison has been purged and
the damage, for the most part, repaired. But - there is something else I must
tell you,:* and the colorlessness of her thoughts warned him that it was
something he was not going to want to hear, much less tell the High Queen. He
stopped her and turned her to face him. D’rad’ni met his gaze then looked down
and away.

*:She is - Jur’Av’chi’n,:* the ol’bey woman plunged
grimly, only meeting Luyon’s formidable gaze again after she had said it. *:The
link is strong. Very strong. And very advanced.:* Something in her mind’s voice
set his hair to standing. She was not telling everything.

“
How
strong?” he asked quietly, urgently.

“
Very
- strong.” *:The channel is so deep
that I’d swear she had come to the verge of -:* the rest of the words were
bitten back, and the healer made a sign against impropriety toward her betters
and sovereign. Alarmed, Luyon grabbed her arms, demanding, “
What?!”

*:Solu’san,:* and even her mind’s voice was a
whisper. Again she made the sign, coupled with one against the anger of the Goddesses.
*:It is more advanced than any death-defiance bond I know of, though there are
hints of that, too. And more advanced than any Goddess-bond I have ever seen.
What she has is - it is almost like she is not just one single personality
anymore. And yet, I do not sense the lost echoes of another in her. I do not -
I am out of my element in this.:* The admission was shameless.

“Is it -” *:Is it like the Zehj’Ba?:* he asked,
holding the terror of her answer inside. But she shook her head vigorously.

*:No, that is the first thing I checked for when I
found this bond. It seems to be a full sharing, not a drain. I - am pretty sure
of that. And - she seems to cherish it. She tried to hide it, but a bond that
strong cannot be fully hidden. I - cannot tell any more with any certainty
beyond that.:*

“Tell me this,” he said, leaning close, his eyes
transfixing her. *:Can you sever it?:*

D’rad’ni blinked. *:My first answer would be no. She
is too integrated into this other soul to separate them without killing both. But
I am no expert in this area. You need one who is fully trained in the arts of chi’ol’bey.
I only have an intermediate level of training in such matters of the mind and
soul. I could be wrong, though I think not.:*

Luyon nodded. “Thank you, D’rad’ni. I will need you
to take an oath of total silence on this, right now. None may know of this,
save the High Queen and whomever she chooses to tell. And I will tell her.”

D’rad’ni gave her oath, looking relieved that it did
not fall to
her
to tell the High Queen. She took her leave of the First
Voice/Prince Consort presumptive and hurried away.

Luyon continued to walk slowly through the halls
rather than av’tun directly into Audola’s lains - only he and the High Heir had
that privilege, and only he into all lains, including the bath and sleeping
lains. He sifted through the little that D’rad’ni could tell him of the Heir’s
condition and how best to break it to Audola.

He still had not come up with anything original when
he reached the High Queen’s laire. She turned and impatience practically radiated
from her, though her movements and demeanor were calm. Only he could see her
expectancy. He paused, at a loss about how to begin.

The look on Luyon’s face turned Audola’s heart to
ice and her breath to bitter lead. She prepared herself for the worst.

“How does she fare?” she asked in a whisper, not
choked, but then it did not have to be.

“She fares well physically,” he said, hedging.

“And otherwise?” Her eyes were wide in a face that
felt rigid with fear. He came forward and took her hands. “What is it? What did
D’rad’ni say?”

“She is - Jur’Av’chi’n,” he said.

Relief bubbled like laughter in Audola’s chest. In
fact, she wanted to laugh. Was that all? But Audola had expected that,
considering that she had felt her daughter come so close to the hand of the
Beloved. But as she continued to stare at him, the laughter died away. There
was more to it.

“Tell me,” she said, her voice as flat as a glass
mirror and as opaque.

You won’t like it,
his eyes said. Then he
straightened his back and squared his shoulders. Audola did the same, her face
becoming calm, relaxed. She could handle the grim news better as High Queen
than as a mother.

“She seems to be in a joining that is stronger than
any D’rad’ni has come across. It is so advanced that the ol’bey’woman suspects
- that it might be something akin to the Solu’san. There are overtones of
death-defiance in it, but there are other, unexplained components. She feels it
is unlikely that she would be able to sever the link without killing the Heir
and the other she is attached to.”

Audola sat down slowly, assimilating this
information a bit at a time. And she reached the same conclusion that Luyon had
reached and that accounted for his reticence. Only one other link like this had
ever been documented, and that was Jenikia. And the Lor’av’ona creature.

“And who is she linked to?” Audola asked, not
looking up.

“That the Heir has not said, but she said that she
came close to what she was looking for,” Luyon reported.