Authors: Gun Brooke
“Your hesiyeh sohl speaks her mind. That is a good sign. You need that,” Pri said abruptly, but the fire in her voice was gone. “We should listen to her.”
“She's not⦔ Emeron stopped. “Yes, she always seems to speak her mind. So, will you help us? We need two guides, since they have to take turns in order to remain alert and accurate.”
“Yes. I have already chosen the two. The young woman you saw in the House of Worship, Yhja, and a young man, Trom. They are ready to join you.”
Dwyn stared at Pri. “But she was dying when I saw her yesterday. She's in no shape to venture into the forest.”
“Yhja was placed in a Cage of Prayer last night, and when the sun rose, all that ailed her was gone. The
Antahk
force is strong, and it gains more strength in times of adversity and need. Our deities do not let us down.”
“Nonsense. Your so-called gods sure pick their fights then.” The anger and resentment were back in Emeron's voice. Her eyes simmered with hostile emotions, and Dwyn was afraid she would launch a full-scale verbal assault on Pri.
“You still harbor too much anger, Imer-Ohon-Da.” Pri sighed. “We did what we could for Briijn.”
“You ought to have been able to save her.” Emeron raised her voice as she flung her hands into the air. “My family took her into the forest so you could do just that. I was
here
. I saw how you squabbled and then did nothing.”
“You were very young and saw something you misinterpreted.” Pri reached out to Emeron, palms up. “Briijn was in the last stage of the
idjus-kanh
. Had they not waited, but brought her instantly, we would have been able to save her. It broke our hearts that your grandmother, who was unique, no longer was among us. We tried every chant, every ceremony we could think of. It was too late. Briijn had traveled on to the next world.
“You say my Cormanian relatives were to blame?” Emeron asked, her voice menacing.
“No. They did what they thought was best. They took her to different doctors, and when the disease, so common among our people but unknown among outsiders, was finally diagnosed, they hurried her here.”
“But too late.”
“Yes, child.” Pri stepped closer. “No one is to blame, child. No one.”
Emeron stood still and seemed frozen in time.
Dwyn interrupted and briefly touched Emeron's hand, hoping to help her stay focused. “Yhja is going with us. Amazing.”
“Yes. Yhja is an intuitive huntress who knows every part of the forest surrounding our village. Trom, who happens to be Yhja's betrothed, is a trader. He travels to our sister villages frequently and has also become an excellent tracker.”
“Good,” Emeron said flatly. “Are they on their way to join the unit? If so, we should leave. The team will have broken camp by now.”
“They are prepared.” Pri hesitated, suddenly appearing a decade older. “Imer-Ohon-Da, look out for them. They are but young people, and they know little of your technology. I have told them about the dangers and how death can come quickly if one of your high-technology weapons is fired upon them. I fear that they still do not understand fully, so please. Watch out for them.”
Something seemed to soften marginally within Emeron. She didn't touch Pri, but she nodded. “Naturally. I give you my word that I will do my best to make sure they're safe.”
“Thank you.”
Pri walked them to the door, her steps heavy. Dwyn realized this woman must have been on her feet since the crash and was exhausted.
“Please, ma'am,” Dwyn said shyly, “try to get some rest. You've done so much to help others that you've depleted your own strength. You must tend to yourself as well. Show yourself the kindness and thoughtfulness you've shown others.”
Pri looked surprised. “Thank you, child. You are a kind and thoughtful soul, and it's such a joy that Imer-Ohon-Da has found her hesiyeh sohl.”
Behind her, Emeron groaned, but when Dwyn turned to face the source of the sound, Emeron didn't look exasperated at all.
“If you say so, Pri,” Emeron said softly. “We better go now.
Siendesh
.”
“
Siendesh, Imer-Ohon-Da
.”
Dwyn and Emeron hurried back along the paths, and Dwyn had to run to keep up with Emeron's strides.
“I didn't want to ask in front of Pri, in case it wasn't proper,” she said, “but what's a Cage of Prayer?”
“What it sounds like. A wooden cage, cut out of a single huge tree trunk of the ancient trees. The sick or wounded person is placed inside, while a priestess, or a healer, leads the mourners in prayer.”
“The mourners?” Dwyn didn't understand. “What do you mean?”
“They mourn the loss of the soul that will happen
if
the person in the cage does die after all.” Emeron slowed down. “Sorry, didn't realize you had to run. Anyway, the mourners chant softly, urged on and inspired by the healer. He or she, mostly it is a woman, is trained in the art of inspiring people to reach that ecstatic phase when they are as one in voice and mind. I saw this many times as a child.”
“And yet you don't believe in it?”
“I do,” Emeron said sharply. “It's their choice, of when they use it and on whom, that I have a problem with.”
“Whom?”
Emeron shook her head. They were approaching the camp where Mogghy had stored everything in their back-strap security carriers. “I don't want to talk about that. Perhaps later.”
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pryâ”
“You didn't. They're valid questions.” Emeron smiled briefly. “Don't worry about it. It's history now. Ancient history.”
“All right.” Dwyn returned the smile. She didn't believe Emeron, since everything she'd witnessed proved that history wasn't ancient at all. It was alive in Emeron's soul.
Yhja and Trom shyly stood next to Mogghy. They both wore light green and brown pants and shirts. Yhja had tied her long black hair back into two braids, and Trom wore his in a tight, low ponytail, adorned with brown-and-white speckled feathers. Their feet were clad in skins, laced with something resembling thin intertwined vines.
“Report,” Emeron said, her eyes gliding easily across the faces of her unit members.
“We're all packed, ma'am,” Mogghy replied smartly. “We're ready, and it seems these two are prepared to join us.”
“Yes, so I understand.” Emeron looked at Yhja and Trom before she redirected her glance. “Oches, Noor, I want you to protect Yhja and Trom, since they're coming along to help us find our way faster through the forest. I want to return them in one piece, is that clear?”
“Yes, ma'am,” Oches and Noor echoed.
“Good.” Emeron grabbed their carriers and tossed one to Dwyn. “Time to head out.”
The group began to hurry in the same direction that M'Ekar and the mercenaries had taken, with Yhja and Trom directly behind Emeron and Dwyn.
*
“Don't worry, Admiral,” Ayahliss said, moving up onto the couch where she'd been resting. “I'll take care of Armeo.”
“I know you will.” Rae sat next to her and pulled Armeo down on her other side. “And it's important that you two follow safety protocol. Hopefully Kellen and I won't be gone long, but we don't know for sure. Your grandfather will be here, but he has to work and run things from the mission room.”
“Can we page him?” Armeo asked, with a familiar smile that revealed his concern.
“You'll have your own set of communicators with your own private channel to Granddad.” She ruffled Armeo's hair, even though she knew he disliked it. The fact that this gesture made him curl up under her arm spoke volumes. They had left him twice before, and she hated doing this to him again.
Kellen emerged from their bedroom and sat down on Armeo's other side. “We will send word through Ewan. It won't be like when we were on Gantharat. We will at least be on the same planet.”
“I'm glad Ayahliss will be with me.”
“So am I. She's good at looking out for you.” Kellen smiled at Ayahliss, who nodded solemnly.
“No, well, yes, she is, but that's not it.” Armeo sighed. “It's just so boring to be with grownups all the time. The security officers are nice, butâ”
Rae blinked. “Boring?” She looked at Kellen and was hard-pressed not to laugh. “Well, I suppose we can't expect them to be both good at the job
and
funny.”
“I guess.” Armeo didn't so much as stir under her arm. “Rae?”
“Yes?”
“You and Kellen need to look out for each other too. This one woman, the one Ayahliss kicked, she looked evil. You know. She laughed as she was firing at the guards.”
She squeezed Armeo firmly. “I promise we'll be very careful. Leanne and Owena are going with us, and the best marines we could find.” She didn't tell him there was only room for two marines.
“All right.” Armeo had apparently snuggled enough and rose from the couch. “How long before you have to leave?”
“Two hours,” Kellen said.
“Then Ayahliss and I should get to choose what we do until then.”
“All right. What do you want to do?”
“Play the new holo-game.” Armeo didn't stop to check if Ayahliss agreed, but ran off to the other room to get it.
Kellen shook her head with a smile and followed him.
“Admiral?” Ayahliss pulled a leg up and clasped her hands around it. Resting her cheek against her knee, she still looked tired.
“Please, Ayahliss, call me Rae. Are you all right?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“What were you going to say?” She frowned as something almost resembling fear flickered across Ayahliss's face.
“I want to be able to protect Armeo, but in my weakened state, I'm afraid I can't perform as I should.”
She was stunned to realize how sincerely Ayahliss took her self-appointed job as Armeo's guardian. She had nearly died trying to save him, so Rae knew how adamant she was. She deserved a serious reply.
“Listen to me, Ayahliss.” She spoke slowly and with emphasis. “I believe you'd sacrifice your life for him. You've proved that. I also want you to relax, since the kidnappers are far away from here and you're safe inside a military installation.”
“There must be something, a medication or
something
I can take to regain my strength.” Blue tears of fury formed at the corners of Ayahliss's eyes, and in that instant, she reminded Rae so much of Kellen, of how she'd looked the first time she saw her. Furious, wounded, scared, and with blue tears streaming down her cheeks. Swallowing her pity, Rae channeled her feelings into what Ayahliss needed to hear right now.
“There isn't anything you can take, but there
is
something you can do. It will be painful, and tiresome, but if you're prepared to do it, to fight, you'll regain your strength much quicker.”
“What?” Ayahliss sat up straight, wiped quickly at the treacherous tears, and looked at Rae attentively.
“I'll have the base chief medical officer devise a schedule for physical training. You'll need to document each day's progress in a journal, and if you have setbacks, I want you to document them too. You can keep an eye on Armeo at the same time by making him your trainer. He can time you and keep count of repetitions.”
“You seem to know a lot about these things.”
“I was badly wounded on Gantharat the first time I was there, and I nearly died. Kellen saved my life, like you helped save Armeo.” She took Ayahliss gently by the shoulders. “I know you can do this. I followed a strict training schedule and if I, a much older person and somewhat more badly injured than you are, can do it, so can you. I'm ready to bet you can accomplish it in two weeks.”
“Are you going to be gone that long?”
“Hopefully not. But you will be well underway when we get back, no matter what. What do you say?”
“Oh, Rae.” Ayahliss lit up and, to Rae's astonishment, threw her arms around her and hugged her fiercely. “I'm going to do it. You'll see. You just get yourself and Kellen back, and I'll prove to you that Kellen didn't make a mistake when she brought me to live with you.”
She felt a sharp twinge of remorse about how she'd treated Ayahliss. She hadn't been able to trust her or see beyond the wild and unpredictable, no matter how Kellen had guaranteed that Ayahliss's heart was true.
“I know you will, and you've convinced me with your own actions, and your own words, that Kellen made the right choice.” Rae returned the hug. “Now, listen to me. There's one more thing. Armeo's grandfather isn't doing too well. I'm sure he's so worried he'll forget to eat. Can you try to make sure he has a meal with you and Armeo at least once a day? I know it'll be hard, because he'll come up with excuses. You and Armeo can think of something, I'm sure. Use anything. Guilt, if you have to.”