The Tigrens' Glory (36 page)

There was a long silence while the Tigren absorbed that disturbing news.  Kyerion had so many questions he wasn’t sure where to start.  But Cade brought them back to what was most important.  “If we cannot go in after her, then we must bring her out to us,” he said.  “Will you tell us how to do that?”

The orange and black tigrenca laid down on the ground and placed her chin on her paws, her blue eyes brilliant from the tears that gathered before rolling down her cheeks. 
“I do not know.”

Chapter Twenty Eight

“How did your meeting with the Garakai go this morning?” Kyerion asked Garen over lunch the next afternoon. 

“Very well,” Garen replied, looking more relaxed than Kyerion had yet seen him.  “We’ll be leaving half of our task force here until more of the Garakai’s ships arrive, but they’ve officially promised to help all of the conquered worlds of the LMC to recover and get back on their feet.  We’ll be leaving for Jasan this evening, along with the
Ala Lahoi
, the
Vyand
, the
Eyrie
and the
Megalodon
.”

“You are to be commended, High Prince, on your handling of this entire matter,” Kyerion said.  “Not a single non-Xanti life was lost, yet you freed millions from slavery.  As I said before, you are men we are proud to follow.”

“Your words are appreciated, Kyerion,” Garen said.  “But we cannot take all the credit.  The Jasani, both Clan and human citizens, did this as a people, working together.”

“Interesting that you would say that,” Kyerion said.  “We have a problem that we spent half the night discussing, but could find no solution for.  We hoped to ask if you’d help us with it.”

“Of course,” Garen said.  “We’ll help in any way that we can.”

“Thank you, Highness,” Kyerion said.  “We shared a dream last night that contained an element projected by Glory.  It was very disturbing.”

“What element?” Lariah asked.

“A door,” Kirk replied.  “A heavy door bound with iron.  The same door appeared each time Glory Dream Walked with us, but she would not speak of it.  Last night we learned that her mind is trapped behind that door, along with horrific memories of her childhood.  That’s the reason she remains in a coma.”

“When Jareth examined Glory, before we left Jasan, he told me that there were many blank areas in her mind,” Lariah said.  “Memories that, he suspected, she’d hidden from herself.  He was quite concerned about that.”

“For good reason,” Kyerion said.  “We were shown a portion of one of those memories.  They are more than vile.  Our first instinct was to enter her dream and bring her out, but we’ve been warned that should we attempt that, we’d become trapped with her.”

“Warned?” Garen asked.

“By the Guardienne of Clan Tigren,” Kyerion replied.  Garen nodded, asking no further questions.  The mysterious guardians of some clans, like the Lobo’s Eternal Pack and the Owlfen’s Sentinel, were sacred to those clans that had them.  He was surprised that Kyerion revealed as much as he had about theirs.  “She also told us that Glory is our Arima, but that many events that are
meant
to be have been altered by chaos.  Nothing is promised.”

That was a startling and disturbing statement that sent an uncomfortable chill through the room.  After a few silent moments, the Dracons bowed their heads, palm to heart, in silent sympathy for the Tigrens’ situation. 

The Tigren accepted the acknowledgement silently.  “We spent most of the night trying to think of a way to free her,” Kyerion continued.  “We could think of nothing.” 

“We will certainly think on it, Kyerion,” Garen said.  “We will not give up until Glory is brought back to us, on that you have my word.”

“We appreciate that, Highness,” Kyerion said.  He leaned back in his chair and sighed.  “It’s unfortunate that we have none of our Druid possessions.”

“The power cup alone would be very useful,” Kirk agreed. 

“Power cup?” Lariah asked.

“An ancient object used as an aid in some types of healing,” Cade explained.  “It was carved of a rare stone imbued with beneficial properties.”

“Excuse me,” she said, leaping to her feet.  “Trey, would you please speed-travel me to our room?”

“Of course, little love,” Trey agreed.  He put his fork down and went to stand behind her.  He placed one hand on her shoulder, stepped sideways, and they vanished.

Garen shrugged at Kyerion’s questioning look, and they continued eating.  When Trey and Lariah reappeared a few minutes later, Lariah held a heavily wrapped package in her hands.  She set the package on the table and pushed it gently toward Kyerion. 

“The Bearen Consul’s Arima, Hope, is a Keeper,” she said.  “She identifies powerful objects, and the people they are meant to belong to.”  Everyone listened while Kyerion began to unwrap the package.  “Just before we left Jasan, Hope brought this to me.  She said I’d know when I came across those it was meant for.  I didn’t understand what she meant until now.”

Kyerion removed the last layer of paper covering the object and smiled.  It was a large purple goblet, about eighteen inches high and ten inches wide, with a narrow stem and flared base.  A tree with wide, leaf covered branches was carved into the bowl with amazing detail, down to the veins in the individual leaves.  The trunk extended down the stem, and the roots spread out across the base.

“It’s the
Bizitzaren Kopa
,” Kyerion said, handling the cup with awe and respect as he turned it over in his large hands.  “We always called it the
power cup
, but its true name translates as the Cup of Life.”

“This is the cup you spoke of?” Garen asked.

“Yes,” Kirk replied, watching Kyerion examine it carefully for cracks or flaws.  “It was already ancient when we were born.  I’m surprised it’s survived all this time.”

“Many artifacts of Ugaztun were preserved, but we never knew what any of them were for,” Trey said.  “Hope Bearen has been a treasure to us in that regard.”

“What’s it made of?” Garen asked. 

“Amethyst, carved from the largest flawless specimen ever found on Ugaztun,” Kyerion replied.  “It seems almost too providential that, of all possible healing aids, this particular cup should be here in this time, in this place.”

“Why do you say that?” Garen asked, watching Kyerion’s fingers stroke the silky smooth surface of the cup.

“Different stones have different innate properties,” Kyerion explained, handing the cup to Kirk so he could examine it.  “Amethyst is a healing stone, especially helpful for opening the spiritual and psychic centers of the mind.  It’s also called the
dream stone
for that reason.”

“Do you think that, with this cup, you’ll be able to help Glory?” Lariah asked.

“With this cup we have a chance, Highness,” Kyerion said.  “We simply need to figure out how best to use it.”

“Would you mind a suggestion?” Lariah asked. 

“Not at all,” Kyerion said, suddenly remembering that this woman was more than their Princess.  She was also Nahoa-Arima.  “In fact, we would be most grateful for any suggestions or thoughts you may have, Highness.”

“Using imaginary doors, or walls, to compartmentalize traumatic events within the mind is a common coping method,” Lariah said.  “But those memories
will
seep out and effect the mind in various ways.  The timing of this could be better, but eventually she’d have to deal with all of this anyway.”

“We understand and agree, but you’ve no idea how horrific her memories are, Highness,” Cade said.  “We saw only a small portion of one, and it was more than enough.  She’s blocked them off for a reason.”

“Lariah doesn’t know Glory’s memories, but she has her own traumatic experiences,” Garen said.  “She knows of what she speaks on this matter.”

Lariah smiled at Garen, then turned her attention back to the Tigren, trying to come up with a way to demonstrate what she wanted them to understand.  Her eyes fell on her coffee cup, and she smiled.

“You said earlier that this coffee was strong,” she said, picking up the coffee carafe and refilling her cup to the very brim.  “Correct?”

“Yes,” Kyerion said, frowning as he watched her. 

“This cup is now filled with it,” Lariah said.  “Not another drop can be added without causing it to overflow.  It can’t be picked up, jiggled or sloshed.  It now needs to be handled very carefully, as though it were fragile.  Even the table it sits upon can’t be moved.  If the ship around us were to shift too suddenly, it would cause it to spill.  Having filled this small cup to the very brim, I’ve created a situation that effects far more than the cup and its contents.”  She waited for the Tigren to acknowledge her statement.  After each of them nodded, she leaned back in her chair and spread her arms wide.  “Now, imagine that this room is filled with water,” she said.  “Take this cup, and empty it into the water.”

Kyerion’s eyes widened.  “The coffee still exists, but is diluted and weak.”

“Exactly,” Lariah said.  “You don’t need to extricate Glory from her memories and entice her back through the door.  You need to destroy the door altogether.”

Chapter Twenty Nine

“How are we to destroy something we can’t even touch?” Cade asked in the silence that fell after Princess Lariah’s shocking statement. 

“Good question,” Kyerion said.  He gestured toward the power cup Cade was now holding.  “I think that is going to help us, though.”  He turned to Lariah.  “We thank you, Princess Lariah, for your help.  I think that you’ve given us the solution to our problem.  Now we need only determine how to implement it.”

“Just remember that there’s no rush,” Garen said.  “With Glory safely in a healing tank, you have as much time as you need to think about this.”

“That helps,” Kirk said.  “By the way, we’ve compiled a list of weapons and clothing for your fabricator.”

“I’ll take you there now, if you like,” Trey offered.

“Thank you, Highness.  Is there a place on board this ship where we can work off some energy?” Kyerion asked.  “It might help clear our minds if we could release some physical tension.”

“Of course,” Garen said with a shake of his head.  “I apologize for not thinking of that before.  I’ve no doubt that the need to shift is upon all three of you.” 

“It is,” Kyerion admitted.  “Do you have a solution for us?”

“Yes, we do,” Garen replied.  He stood up, kissed Lariah on the top of her head, then walked around the table to where Kyerion stood.  “We’ll take you to the Roar Room.”

“Roar Room?” Cade asked as Val approached him. 

“Shifting Chamber,” Trey said, placing one hand on Kirk’s shoulder.  Seconds later all six men stood in front of a door with a sign over it proclaiming it to be the Roar Room.

“This is a room for shifting?” Kyerion asked in surprise.

“Yes,” Garen said.  “As I said, we should have shown this to you already.”  He opened the door, relieved to find the room unoccupied.  “It’s not as good as being outside, but it’s better than not shifting at all.”

“You will hear no complaints from us,” Kyerion said, following Garen across a narrow room to another door, and from there into an enormous room covered in white padding.

“Would you mind if we watch for a moment?” Garen asked.  “No tigrenca has been seen by our people in seven thousand years.”

“So long as we can shift and run for a time, we don’t much care who watches,” Kyerion said, smiling happily as he looked around.

“Have fun,” Trey said, grinning as he left the padded room with his brothers, closing the door to the ante room behind them.  The Dracons lined up at the observation window and watched as the Tigren shifted into three tigrenca that arched their backs and stretched their claws before turning toward the viewing window. 

They were about fourteen feet high at the shoulder, just short of thirty feet long not counting their long, flexible tails, with significantly more muscle mass than the katrencas.  Their canines were nearly a foot long, curving down below their chins, the black horns set behind their rounded ears the same length, though much thicker.  Kyerion’s fur was striped black and metallic gold, the same color as his eyes.  Kirk’s stripes were black and silver, and Cade’s black and copper.  They were stunning to look upon, both fierce and beautiful.  This first sight of tigrencas was one more memory in a growing list that the Dracons would never forget.

Kyerion watched the Dracons watch them, scarcely able to imagine what it would feel like to be in their place, to have lost an entire clan of brothers for so long, then have them return.  He shook his enormous head to push the thought away.  This was the first time they’d shifted in seven thousand years, and he wanted to enjoy the moment.

He opened his mouth and roared loud enough to cause the viewing window to tremble.  The Dracons grinned, and he leapt nearly a hundred feet into the air in pure delight.  He hit the padded floor running, reveling in the flex and stretch of muscle and tendon, allowing the simple joy of just
being
to take over his tigrenca’s body and mind.

****

Several hours later, Kyerion pushed the tank room door open and stepped inside with Kirk and Cade behind him.  They were all dressed in jeans, boots, and black V-necked t-shirts that exposed their torcs and armbands as required by ancient Clan law, all of which fit them perfectly.  They’d enjoyed the feel of the modern clothing they’d borrowed from the Dracons enough to have some made for themselves, though they’d had their familiar battle leathers made as well. 

“I hear you got to run off some energy in the Roar Room this morning,” Doc said, watching while they gathered around Glory’s tank.

“Yes, it was a great relief to us,” Kyerion said.

“No ill effects?” Doc asked.  “No weakness, dizziness, anything like that?”

“No, none at all, Doc, thank you for asking,” Kyerion replied politely.  “We feel much better than we expected after such a long period of time in those tanks.  How is Glory doing?”

“No change since yesterday,” Doc said.  “Garen told me that she’s your Arima.”