Priestess of the Eggstone (26 page)

“Well?” Tayvis asked, sitting on my other side.

Jerimon stood behind us. I could almost feel the jealousy he radiated.

I popped an eyeball into my mouth, biting down. It was cool, crunchy, salty and wet all at once. I swallowed, then picked up another.

“I think I’ll stick to the gray stuff.” Jasyn reached for the plain grain.

“They aren’t as bad as they look.” I plucked another eyeball from the tray.

“That really doesn’t say much.” Tayvis picked legs out of the grain, dropping them back on the tray. He tasted a fingerful. “Bland, but edible. Who’s going to try the rat?”

I bit into a tiny leg. I tasted cinnamon and vanilla with a bite of pepper. It was curiously good. I scooped up another one.

“You’re really eating those things?” Jerimon asked.

“You wouldn’t believe what she eats,” Tayvis said.

I fished out an eye and handed it to him. “Eat it, I dare you.”

He popped it in his mouth and crunched down. “Not bad.”

Jerimon reached over my shoulder to grab two. He popped both in his mouth and bit down. His face twisted in disgust. He chewed twice, then dove into the bathroom.

Tayvis grinned.

“Men,” Jasyn muttered.

I noticed she stuck with the grain.

The rats weren’t too bad, but the hair added an unpleasant texture.

When the Sessimoniss came to collect the trays, they were empty. It had been a long time since my last meal. I glared at Tayvis and silently dared him to comment. He just looked much too content while Jerimon retched in the background.

The routine didn’t vary for the next five days. Food arrived once every twelve hours. The menu didn’t change. Jerimon finally ate some grain. He absolutely refused to touch anything else. Tayvis and I shared the rats and eyeballs.

The Eggstone kept pushing for my memories, picking at them one by one. I fought back. I didn’t want to relive my life at the orphanage on Tivor. I thought my years at the Academy would be safe until the Eggstone picked them apart. The prejudice of the other cadets apalled me, once I saw it clearly. I shoved the prying presence from my head, slamming my memories closed.

*You do not wish to remember. How curious. Why would you wish to remove something you have learned? Is not all knowledge of value?*

“It isn’t important,” I whispered, keeping my voice low so I wouldn’t disturb the others. Living my past, looking at it with the harsh clarity of the Eggstone’s perspective, was too painful. I wanted my numb, fuzzy shading of the truth back.

*Why do you turn from reality?*

“Because it hurts too much.”

*Always with the Sessimoniss, it is clarity and pure truth that are prized. Do humans not value such things?*

“Depends on the human. And the situation.”

*Why do you feel such pain? Do humans have clans?*

I hesitated, knowing my answer might cause problems. Sessimoniss lived in family clusters, within the larger shelter of the clan. A Sessimoniss on his own would die, if he weren’t killed first. There was no such thing as an orphan in their culture. Clans were the basis of everything, including their government. Outsiders were not tolerated. I should have been killed as soon as I touched the Eggstone. Only the fact that it responded to me had saved my life.

I was the Priestess of the Eggstone now, a position that elevated one beyond the clan. Even the youngest female of the lowliest clan could become the Priestess. But loyalties didn’t come with the position. The Priestess acted as a restraint on the bloodthirsty cult of Sekkitass, the other Sessimoniss deity. The Sessimoniss had worshipped both for thousands of years. The Eggstone, in turn, had shaped their culture, gradually changing the most bloodthirsty rituals and tempering their feuds.

*You will be good for them. The Sessimoniss grow bound by tradition. They resist change. Unlike humans. Tell me of your history.*

“You stole my memories already.” I wiped traces of tears from my face.

*Tell me what the others know. I cannot read them as I read you. I wish to know what they think. I wish to know of your Empire.*

“Later. I’m tired.”

*You sleep to avoid me.* Amusement rippled through my mind. *I respect you, human called Dace. You are stronger, more resilient, than any Priestess I have had. Your weaknesses are much different.*

“What am I supposed to do when we reach Serrimonia?”

*Teach them what humans have to offer. Help them change.* The Eggstone paused. *And find a way to survive.*

I watched the others sleep and wondered how I was going to keep us alive. I had enough memories of priestesses to know how brutal the Sessimoniss could be. Why had they chosen to come? Why hadn’t they stayed where they were safe? Why risk everything for me?

One slip and I would be dead. Without me, the others didn’t stand a chance. I leaned against the wall, clutching the Eggstone. No matter how I twisted information in my head, I couldn’t see any way out.

Unless I died. And they would die with me.

Chapter Nineteen

Five days cooped up in a tiny room with no furniture would have driven anyone nuts. Jerimon and Tayvis sat at opposite ends of the room, trading insults. Jasyn locked herself in the bathroom. I listened to the Eggstone’s amused speculations on the bizarre mating rituals of humans. The Eggstone understood immediately that Jasyn and Jerimon were brother and sister, same-clan, and so taboo. It assumed that Jerimon’s and Tayvis’s constant sparring was somehow about me. I didn’t believe that for a second. I’d seen Tayvis watching Jasyn. I already knew how Jerimon felt about me. It wasn’t mutual. He grated on my nerves.

The ship slid through the stomach-twisting nausea of reentry to normal space. I closed my eyes and wished I were the one flying.

“I hate this.” Tayvis slapped the floor.

“Don’t we all,” I answered.

Jerimon sneered. “What are you going to do, Tayvis? Fight them all with your bare hands? They’re bigger and stronger and they have poisoned claws.”

“Tell me about the poisoned claws again,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. He had the decency to pale.

“Dace, I’m sorry.”

Tayvis knotted his eyebrows. “What did that miserable excuse for a weasel do?” His voice was very level, very controlled, which meant he was about to explode.

“It doesn’t matter, Tayvis.” I was tired of everything. I was tired of them. I wanted some privacy. I wanted to kick Jasyn out of the bathroom and take it myself. I wanted something other than an evening gown to wear.

“Yes, it does, Dace. What did he do?”

“He didn’t do anything. Except involve me in the first place.”

“You were the one smuggling for Belliff.”

“Jerimon, if you bring that up again, I am going to break something. Like your nose.”

“What did you do to her?”

“Tayvis, stop it!” I glared. “We were stopped by the Sessimoniss, once, near Rucal. They wanted the Eggstone and we didn’t have it.”

“And?” he prodded.

“And they did this.” I yanked down the shoulder of my dress exposing the scars from the Sessimoniss’ claws. “It was a warning.” I jerked my dress back in place. “Satisfied?”

“No.” He was angry, really angry. The side of his jaw bulged as he ground his teeth together.

“Don’t do anything, Tayvis, or we are all dead,” I warned.

“Dace,” he started.

I held up the Eggstone and shook my head.

“Talking to a rock again. You are going insane, Dace.”

“Shut up, Jerimon,” I said. Tayvis subsided.

The bathrooom door slid open. Jasyn stood in the doorway, looking between the three of us. “Did I miss something?”

“Just Dace talking to her rock again.” Jerimon smirked. “If you’re lonely, Dace, I’m available. But you already know that.”

I took my opportunity, stalking past her to the limited privacy of the bathroom. I’d had all I could stand of both of them.

Jasyn shifted to let the door slide closed.

I sat in a corner while the ship maneuvered through landing, setting down with a jarring thump. I opened the bathroom door when the engines powered down.

Tayvis watched me, his face like stone.

“What now?” Jerimon asked.

I shrugged. The Eggstone didn’t say anything either. We waited in silence.

The door finally slid open. Six Sessimoniss in bright tunics waited in the corridor; one of them was the leader of the group that kidnapped us. The slashes on his tunic marked him as Dresh’Nikterrit, third son of the Kishtosnitass. Without the Eggstone pouring Sessimoniss memories into my head, I would have never understood any of it. Four brown-robed skitarrit, female attendants sent to serve the Eggstone before reaching full maturity, squeezed past him into the room. They kept their eyes fixed on the floor. The lead one shook out a bundle revealing a long robe with full sleeves. The whole thing was covered in intricate embroidery. Skystones as big as my fists lined the front in double rows. Jerimon let out a low whistle.

I shook my head, warning him. The skitarrit slipped the robe over my shoulders. It was much too long, the sleeves dangled well below my hands. I shook my hands free, holding the Eggstone where it was clearly visible. As I walked forward, the robe parted, sweeping to either side. If I hadn’t been wearing a long evening gown, I wouldn’t have had any problems. As it was, I took careful steps. I didn’t want to use a hand to hold my skirts, I wanted both of them holding the Eggstone in plain sight. It was the only thing keeping the Sessimoniss from killing me on the spot.

My attendants surrounded me, escorting me out of the cabin.

“Don’t let them separate us,” I said, without looking behind. “I can’t protect you if you aren’t with me. Sessimoniss do not tolerate outsiders.”

They crowded close. The skitarrit shifted back, unwilling to risk touching anything not Sessimoniss. Even putting the robe on me, they kept their hands as far away as they could. Priestess I was, but Sessimoniss I was not.

The Kishtosnitass third son gave me a yellow-eyed stare before leading the way from the ship.

We exited the ship on a long gangplank that arched to the ground. I paused. What few borrowed memories I had showed the field to be huge, covering the entire top of a broad plateau, with hundreds of ships gleaming in the sun. The plateau was the same, a broad expanse of reddish rock covered with blasted shrubs, stunted by poor soil and dry wind. Instead of hundreds of ships, the field held eleven, four of which could never possibly fly.

We walked down the gangplank onto the surface. Grit crunched under my boots. I risked a glance back. Tayvis and Jasyn crowded my heels, Jerimon close behind. I made a mental note to talk to Tayvis later. He was trained for this kind of thing. If I could, I would have given him the Eggstone and wished him luck with it.

We walked across the plateau, skirting the damaged ships. Low, thorny shrubs tugged at the heavy robe. The hot wind tossed sand. I blinked it away.

We reached the edge, the city spread below. It was not the gleaming, bustling metropolis of the priestesses’ memories. Drifts of sand partially buried most of the streets. Blocks of stone scattered across empty streets from ruined buildings. Only the center showed any sign of life. Three buildings dominated the central plaza, each forming one side. An enormous complex built of golden stone, the temple of the Eggstone faced the forbidding temple of Sekkitass, built from stone the color of dried blood. Sessimoniss gathered on its steps, their tunics black against the red. I was not looking forward to dealing with them. Even when the Eggstone priestess was Sessimoniss, they were antagonistic. The third building, a low hump of rounded stone, was the council chamber.

We wound our way down a narrow path chipped in the crumbling cliff face of the plateau. I had sand in my teeth from the constant wind.

We walked along a main street into the echoing, crumbling city. Blocks of dark stone showed underfoot where the wind had scoured the grit away. Their surfaces were smooth, cut with laser precision and fitted so closely that none of them had shifted, even over the centuries since they had been laid. I was beginning to wonder. The Sessimoniss had had technology, more than what they had borrowed from humans and others. They had had their own, but now they lived in the remnants of that earlier glory.

*This is why you must teach them,* the Eggstone said as we walked into the inhabited part of the ancient city. I saw a double vision, memories of its glory overlaying the harsh reality of ruined buildings.

The Kishtosnitass Dresh’Nikterrit led us to the center of the plaza and stopped. The others stepped back a pace. The skitarrit motioned me to the right, to the golden temple.

The plaza filled with Sessimoniss, their tunics clashing garishly. They watched silently as I carried the Eggstone to the golden building. I reached the bottom step. I held the Eggstone high in both hands and hoped I wouldn’t trip. The steps were made for Sessimoniss who had legs almost twice as long as mine. I kicked my dress aside, trying to make my slow steps look deliberate. The Sessimoniss watched me, measuring everything I did. I knew I wasn’t welcome, but I had to do whatever I could to gain their acceptance. Otherwise, I didn’t stand a chance of getting off the planet. And neither did the three people who crowded me up the steps.

I reached the doors without tripping and paused, looking up. The doors were at least twenty feet high, carved with symbols that twisted together and curved so that I couldn’t tell where one started and another ended. The skitarrit pulled the doors wide, stepping to either side. I turned to face the plaza.

The steps of the Eggstone’s temple were lined with brown-robed skitarrit and male warriors, servants of the Eggstone, pledged into service by clans large enough to send them. To have servants in the temple was a status symbol. It proved they did not need the extra breeders or warriors.

Sessimoniss in the black of Sekkitass lined the steps of the blood-red temple across the plaza. Red slashes, like open wounds, marked their rank within the temple.

The plaza between the temples held the rest of the Sessimoniss, the sum total of the city’s population. Where my memories showed thousands spilling into the connecting roads, a pitiful few hundred watched.