Warrior's Valor (14 page)

“I see her.” And Emeron had to concede that she didn't act or look as if she were concussed with inner bleedings. “Did you scan her?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact I did. The healer told Amiri it was all right, that it could actually help her adjust the crystals.”

This piece of information stunned Emeron and made her stand up so quickly she nearly knocked Dwyn over. “This is utter nonsense, and you should know better.” Furious, and unable to stop herself, she towered over Dwyn, who looked startled. “If you truly believe that waving crystals over an unconscious kid does anybody
any
good, then you're even more delusional than I thought. You work for a company that does nothing but encourage so-called civil disobedience. You claim to be on this heroic mission to preserve the old worlds that have no appreciation for new technology and the sacrifices people make for the sake of human evolution.” She growled, “I won't sit here and watch you look all radiant because someone made an unexplainable recovery. As soon as we're done here with the search-and-rescue operation, we're back to doing what we came here to do. Catch the bad guys and get the hell out of here.”

Red mist clouded Emeron's mind and she almost lost control completely. She didn't look at Dwyn again, but stomped out the door. Staring at the sunset, she wished she'd never set foot in this godforsaken place again.

Dwyn walked past the long line of Disian men and women who stood outside the House of Worship waiting to hear about their friends and loved ones. Their heads were bowed as they prayed or meditated.

“There's a reason for her outburst,” Mogghy said from behind her. “Don't judge her too harshly, Dwyn.”

Dwyn didn't answer right away. Her ears still rang from Emeron's loud eruption, and she felt numb. She didn't care about losing face in front of the Disians. But the torment, the
anguish
behind Emeron's words, and the fact that she had lost control in a manner Dwyn had thought impossible, concerned her deeply. “I don't judge her. How could I?”

“Well, she probably thinks you do.” Mogghy neared her, his huge body towering above her. He had the kindest eyes she had ever seen, and an honesty that told her what she needed to know.

“I wonder where she went.” She gazed around them, but saw only the Disian crowds. “She disappeared so quickly.”

“I can tell you, child.” Pri appeared at Dwyn's elbow so unexpectedly that she jumped. “When Imer-Ohon-Da was a little girl, she used to go down to the waterfalls.”

“Why do you call her that? Immeron—”

“Imer-Ohon-Da. It is her name, pronounced the Disian way. It means ‘as sung by the people.'”

“Emeron has a Disian name? I don't understand.”

“You must ask her, child.” Pri spoke softly. “There is much hurt with Imer-Ohon-Da. She is aimed for greatness and has yet to find her path. She is by the waterfalls. You must go to her.”

Dwyn frowned, uncertain what the old woman meant. Mogghy seemed to concur and motioned for her to start walking.

“I'll show you the waterfalls. I saw them earlier. Come on.”

She didn't seem to have any choice. Sighing, she followed Mogghy as he maneuvered through the crowd. The Disians moved to the side like a parting sea, allowing them effortless passage. Dwyn became more nervous with each step. She had no idea what mood Emeron would be in, and she was almost certain that she herself was the last person on this planet Emeron wanted to talk to right now. Still, both Pri and Mogghy, who clearly knew Emeron much better than she did, seemed convinced.

The eastern part of the village was framed by slender trees and uneven rocks, which created a magical scene. Short, soft grass grew between the trees, and a wooden path, lit by oil-fueled lamps, led down to a small lake where a twin waterfall created a hypnotic sound.

“There she is. I'll leave the two of you alone, all right?”

“Ah…sure.” Dwyn slowed her steps. More oil lamps circled the lake, and the sand on the shore clung to her boot-clad feet. She couldn't resist the urge to get out of her boots. Unbuckling them, she pulled them and her socks off and placed them at the beginning of the lake path. Then she stood for a moment, digging her bare toes into the sand. The waterline was only a few meters away and she dashed down, dipping her feet in the cool water. Now the sand clung to them as she began to walk along the shoreline of the lake.

The twin moons were out, and when she squinted, she could vaguely see the outline of the vast military space stations that orbited the smaller moon. Off-limits to civilians, such installations were foreign to her, but she didn't envy the people who lived and worked there. She knew what it was like to be on an endless space journey with no place, other than an old space vessel, to call home.

A dark shadow out on a small pier drew her attention. Emeron sat with her boots at her side, dangling her feet just above the waterline. Dwyn felt a bit better that they had done the same thing. “Water's lovely, isn't it?” she called, and began to walk on the pier. It was made of wood and wobbled.

“Yes.” Emeron didn't look around, but Dwyn kept on.

“I thought I'd make sure you're all right.”

“I'm fine.”

“Yes, I can see that.” She took the last few steps up to Emeron and nudged her boots out of the way, sat down, and rinsed the sand off her toes.

“You didn't have to come.”

“Yes. I think I did.”

“Why?” Emeron turned her head and gazed at her with emotionless eyes.

“Because you said things, to me and about me, which suggested that you not only despise me, but that you think I have ulterior motives.”

Emeron flinched and redirected her eyes toward the water. “Sorry.”

“I didn't come for an apology either.” She touched Emeron's hand briefly. “I came because I care, and I think it's important to discuss things.”

“What
things
?”

“Oh, for instance why one moment you seemed impressed, in awe even, with what was happening with Yhja and vehemently dismissed it the next.” She was careful to speak softly and not sound accusing.

“God, you don't mince words, do you? You go straight for the jugular. You'd make a good soldier,” Emeron said bitterly.

“I disagree. I'd be charged with insubordination so fast I'd spend most of my career in the brig.”

Emeron stared at her for a second, then laughed. A short bark of a laugh, but it was a start.

She smiled and shrugged. “It's the truth.”

“Somehow I don't doubt that.” Emeron dipped her feet into the water and let them dangle. Water drops glistened in the light of the moon and the lamps. “You're too honest, and too independent. You'd better stick to your current job.”

“You called me terrible things just now.” She dangled her feet as well.

“Yes. I did. That was unfair. I apologize.” The strangled words came out sounding authentic. They seemed torn from Emeron's throat by sheer force.

“Apology accepted. But I still need an explanation. Pri suggested that you've been here before, that you're somehow connected to this place.”

Emeron stopped moving her feet and merely sat there, as if she held her breath. Perhaps she was trying to figure out how to avoid having to explain everything. She certainly had every right to, Dwyn thought, but was adamant about knowing the truth.

“My grandmother, Briijn, was Disian.”

“What?” That wasn't what Dwyn had expected. “But the Disians…they never leave the forest. That's one of their rules. They're true to their heritage and revere the forest and their traditions.”

“No rules without exceptions.” Emeron lifted her right leg and hugged it to her with both arms. “Briijn was curious about the outside world. In every generation some choose another path. Briijn belonged to the ones with a tremendous amount of curiosity. She dreamt of exploring the Cormanian world and perhaps even traveling off-world one day. She ended up doing all that before she died.”

“She must have been extraordinary.”

“She was the one soul in my life who gave a damn about me. Briijn loved me like a mother should, when my own mothers didn't. Or couldn't.” Raw with emotion, Emeron's voice came out staccato.

“And when she died, you had nobody.”

Emeron blinked. “You're very perceptive. Most people at the time said I was still fortunate to belong to the nobility among the all-women dynasties.”

“So, your grandmother, Briijn, was married to another woman. What happened to her?”

“She divorced Briijn after only a few years and left her to raise Vestine, my birthmother, alone. When my other grandmother passed away a few years later, her parents found Briijn working in the docks at a shuttle station, with my mother strapped to her back, which is the Disian custom. They wanted the little girl, their grandchild, to grow up in their midst so they took them both home. I have to give them that. They never mistreated Briijn. At least not deliberately. But they never understood her, and she was the most interesting, amazing woman among them. When I was born, she insisted she'd take care of me, like she had done with Vestine, which my relatives found curious since it was customary to employ nannies. She was more of a mother to me than my birthmother or my names-mother.”

Rather stunned at Emeron's long speech, Dwyn boldly took her hand. “What happened that made you so furious with your heritage?”

“She died.”

“I realize that. But—”

“And the Disians didn't do anything to stop it, even if they were supposed to know how. They stood by and let her die. There was certainly none of that crystal-swinging magic then.”

“How old were you?”

“Fourteen.” Emeron's voice sank to a whisper and she squeezed Dwyn's hand hard. “Briijn developed a life-threatening condition from a dormant illness that appears in many Disians when they reach a certain age. The only treatment consists of local herbs and some of their
magic
. I call it quackery.” Emeron sighed. “My mothers didn't realize what was happening, and when they finally brought her here, apparently the Disians refused to interact with someone who had crossed over to modern life. They didn't help her. She died. That's it.”

“A piece must be missing. The Disians seem enlightened and caring, from what I've seen.”

“And you've been here half a day.” Emeron didn't sound scornful, merely sad. “Pri, who is actually my grandmother's cousin, and the others, squabbled when they could have done something immediately. My relatives also acted too late. The bottom line is these people, my Disian brothers and sisters, are proud and regard any other culture but their own as inferior, when actually they're the ones lacking. They could have moved out a long time ago, contributed to society and not merely been a bothersome—”

“So that is how you see us, child? Bothersome people who don't contribute?” Pri's voice from behind made Emeron jump up and turn around.

“Yes. That is how I see you and the rest of these people. Only the children are innocent, and they don't know anything about the outside world. But the rest of you? Some take the opportunity to attend schools and get an education, but then they return home, here, to this charming but unproductive village.”

“Your misconceptions have caused you much suffering, dear child. You are my kin, and I would like to explain a few things to you, if you are ready to listen.”

“It's too late for explanations.” Emeron grabbed her boots and shoved her feet back into them.

“I disagree. I don't think you've been ready until now.” Pri gestured toward Dwyn. “Now that you've brought your
hesiyeh sohl
with you—”

“She isn't mine. That should show you just how wrong you are. Dwyn means nothing to me personally, and the fact that she's here...” Emeron shrugged, “is coincidental.”

Emeron's words reverberated throughout Dwyn and caused a dark, dull pain. Afraid that her agony would show, she stumbled to her feet. “I should let the two of you work things out. You obviously have a lot to talk about. See you later, Emeron.”

She hurried along the wooden pier and ran down the path to where she'd left her boots. She thought she heard Emeron call her name, but didn't stop to make sure. Tears burned behind her eyelids, and if she had to face Emeron right now, she'd break down and cry out of sheer humiliation. To think she had begun to believe that she could reach that cold-hearted automaton. Angry as well as humiliated, she grabbed her boots and hurried to the area where Oches and Noor had set up camp. Four makeshift tents of varying sizes outlined a rectangle with a fire burning in the center.

“Which is mine?” she asked abruptly.

“The one by the low-hanging trees, over there.” Noor pointed toward a group of trees full of dark purple flowers, which were closed for the night, and their retreat mirrored Dwyn's desire for solitude. She murmured her thanks, then crawled inside the tent and into her bedroll, not even bothering to put on clean clothes. So what if she smelled of smoke? All she wanted was to fall into a dreamless sleep.