And All Between (8 page)

When the leader of the Nekom was finally forced by his failing voice to relinquish the platform, he was almost immediately replaced by another speaker whose voice was often heard throughout Erda. She was called Bruha, and she appeared on the speakers’ platform so suddenly that not only the audience, but also the members of the council were left wondering exactly how her right to be there had been established.

She was tall for an Erdling and extremely thin. Her deep-set eyes, fixed and fiery with inner certainties, had a strangely mesmerizing effect on her fellow Erdlings, whose convictions tended to be more wavering. Stepping to the very edge of the platform, she raised her hands high above her head and for several minutes stood perfectly still. Only her lips moved, silently, and the reflected fire of the surrounding torches leaped and flickered in her eyes.

In the huge assembly cavern, conversation trickled away into a silence that grew gradually more complete. At last Bruha spoke into a stillness that was like that of death. Her voice was thin and high and of a piercing intensity.

“I appear before you, fellow Erdlings, to bring a message from the departed Spirit of the lost child, Teera Eld. The Spirit voice of Teera has spoken to me and has told me that it is only through the powers of the Hax-dok that the Root will be destroyed and the people of Erda will regain their freedom. The Spirit of Teera admonishes the people of Erda to join the Society of the Hax-dok and by taking part in their holy rituals, hasten the day when the withering of the Root will be complete and the Erdling will again be free.”

For many minutes the voice of Bruha rose and fell in hypnotic rhythms, and her audience listened in entranced silence. They listened intently, although most of them had long been familiar with the claims of the Hax-dok and with the elaborate rituals and sacrificial offerings with which the group had been trying for generations to reverse the enchantment of the Root and cause it to return to its natural state. The Erdlings listened because they had no choice, and while they listened many of them believed, however briefly, in the magical promises of the Hax-dok. But as soon as Bruha relinquished the speakers’ platform and the sharp thin flame of her presence was no longer before them, they returned their minds to other things.

It was not until then that Kir Oblan, as the presiding Councilor, was able to hear the suggestions of the leaders of the search and to begin the discussion of what should be done in the matter of the lost child. After hearing reports of carefully conducted explorations, which had covered all the known and charted areas around Erda, and had even in many cases, extended far out into the unknown regions, the Council came to the sad decision that the search should be abandoned. The parents of the child, Teera, would, of course, be excused from their duties at their places of service for as long as they wished, and were free to continue to search alone for however long they felt they must. But all other searchers would be expected to return to their usual employment.

The business of the Council was completed, and the assembly was dismissed; but before they could depart, an old man dressed in a flowing robe of unadorned lapan skin arose from his place in the crowd and began to speak.

“It is Vatar, the old man of the Gystig,” people whispered, and those who had started to leave returned to their places.

“My beloved Erdlings,” the old man was saying in a voice that, although quavering with age, was yet rich and full. “On this sad occasion, may we take but one moment to offer our loving sympathy to the bereaved parents of the lost child—”

“Yes, yes,” the murmur of approval spread through the crowd and many turned toward the platform where Herd and Kanna still stood, their faces wet with tears.

“—and at the same time to make humble supplication to the all-knowing Spirit for forgiveness of our sins, and to grant us the grace to accept our fate in the certain knowledge that true freedom lies only in the Spirit, and that—”

But now as the quavering voice continued, there were many who ceased to listen. Some continued to focus their minds and Spirits on the Elds, sending them their pity and sympathy, but others turned away, frowning, and began to move away from their places toward the exits. But even those who walked away maintained, for the most part, a respectful silence, so that the old man, Vatar, was not interrupted. With closed eyes, his face and hands uplifted, he continued to speak while the vast cavern emptied, until at last only a scattered few remained. Those few continued to stand with bowed heads until Vatar ceased to speak and then, crowding around him for his blessing, they followed him from the cavern.

In the days that followed, Kanna and Herd continued to search the far regions, carrying on their backs heavy packs containing nid-furs, and food and lantern fuel, so that it would not be necessary for them to return to Erda often for food and rest. Marking their path carefully, they ranged far out into the unknown areas until, at last, Kanna sickened and they were forced to return.

Then with Kanna safe in the care of the clan, Herd returned to the search and tramped all alone, farther and farther into the unknown regions.

P
ERHAPS IT WAS PARTLY
the new shuba, a beautiful garment of shimmering blending pinks and golds, along with the excitement of seeing Raamo again, that gave Pomma such an extraordinary feeling of delighted anticipation. Seated in the large, luxuriously furnished common room of her family’s nid-place, along with her parents, Valdo and Hearba D’ok, and her new friend and sister, Teera, Pomma could hardly keep from leaping up and dancing about the room. Her fingers twitched and tangled in her lap, and her feet moved involuntarily in little dancelike motions. She knew her parents were watching her, smiling delightedly, and now and then Pomma smiled back. It had been a long time, a very long time, since she had felt so wonderfully happy and alive and had taken such Joy from anything at all—except, of course, the Berry.

At the thought of the Berry, Pomma’s hand moved involuntarily towards the pouch that she kept at her waist—but then it stopped. There were no Berries there. It had been several days since she had kept Berries handy in her belt-pouch so that they could be quickly eaten when the dark, empty pain swept through her body. But the pain had been less of late, and besides, Teera did not like her to eat so many Berries.

“Don’t eat those things,” Teera always said. “When you eat them, your Spirit goes back into yourself so that I can’t pense you at all. If you eat them, we won’t be able to image for a long time. And I want to image some more about gliding.”

“But you can have some, too,” Pomma had said, holding them out to Teera, fat ripe Berries, oozing with thick dark juice. “Eat some, and you won’t mind about not imaging.”

But Teera shook her head, shuddering. “I don’t like them,” she said. “They make me feel strange, like everything was dissolving and floating away from me.”

And so, because of Teera, there were no Berries now in Pomma’s belt-pouch. But there was the beautiful new shuba, and the fact that Raamo would be arriving at any moment.

And then suddenly the door hangings were flung aside, and Raamo was there, along with the tall young Ol-zhaan, D’ol Neric, and Pomma was running to meet them.

For several minutes all was joyous confusion, an intermingling of bodies, palms, cries of Joy and hastily sung greetings. When, at last, the greetings were complete, Raamo turned his full attention to Pomma, and she preened before him, holding out her arms and twirling on the tips of her toes.

“See how much better I am,” she told him, “and Teera, too.” It was not until then that Pomma, looking around her, noticed that Teera had retreated to stand partly hidden behind the hangings of the hallway door. Reluctantly she allowed Pomma to lead her forward.

“Look how much fatter Teera is. Teera loves to eat,” Pomma said. Raamo bent down and offered his palms to Teera in greeting, while Pomma chattered on about what Teera ate and how much.

“It is not to be wondered at that Teera was hungry when she came to you,” Raamo said, smiling at Pomma. “She had been wandering without anything to eat for two days when we found her.”

“I know,” Pomma said eagerly. “And before that too, she was hungry. Teera says that everyone is hungry below the Root.”

There was a quick exchange of glances between Raamo and D’ol Neric as Pomma spoke. Watching them, Pomma failed to notice Teera until she felt a touch upon her arm and turned to see Teera staring at her with fear-widened eyes. Guessing quickly that Teera feared her mention of those who lived below the Root, Pomma quickly turned the talk to other matters. Knowing that Raamo would be interested and approving, she spoke of Teera’s dislike of the Berry, and of the games and songs that they had taught each other. But when she boastingly mentioned that she and Teera were able to play Five-Pense all the way to the third level, Raamo laughed unbelievingly and accused her of exaggeration.

“No,” Pomma told him emphatically. “I’m not over-speaking. We can truly. I thought I was too old, too, but Teera and I
can
pense each other. We can do Signals and Choices all the time, and sometimes we can do Images. We can’t do Thoughts and Words yet, but I think we’re going to. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Before Raamo could answer Neric interrupted. Asking Pomma to come and talk to him, he told Raamo to take Teera into Pomma’s room in order to speak privately with her. “Wouldn’t you like to speak to Teera, D’ol Raamo?” he asked.

“Yes I would,” Raamo said. “Teera, would you come with me?”

As Raamo started to lead Teera from the room, D’ol Neric lifted Pomma up beside him on the pan-wood bench and gave her his full attention. Thrilled and more than a little awed by her proximity to the young Healing Ol-zhaan, Pomma was momentarily speechless. Glancing down nervously at her fingers fidgeting with the edges of a wing-panel and then up at the faces of her parents who were watching from across the room, Pomma avoided the eyes of D’ol Neric as he began to question her gently. But before she could answer, there was a sound from the front entry hall, and Pomma looked up in time to see the door hangings thrown back as a tall young woman appeared in the opening. It was D’ol Genaa.

The beautiful young Ol-zhaan, D’ol Genaa, was well known to the D’ok family as she was, like Raamo, a novice Ol-zhaan and had been Raamo’s fellow Chosen the year before. During the previous year she had appeared with Raamo at the many celebrations of the choosing and had gone with him on the Journeys of Honor to the outlying cities of Green-sky. As it was traditional for the families of the Chosen to accompany them on these pilgrimages, Pomma and her family had had many opportunities to observe the beautiful young girl Genaa D’anhk, who was now the Ol-zhaan, D’ol Genaa. But Pomma had never seen her look as she did now.

Tall and commanding and yet delicately graceful in every line and movement, D’ol Genaa stood framed in the arch of the doorway, her beauty glowing as richly as a paraso bird caught in a ray of sunlight. But there was something in the rigid contours of her face and in the dark intensity of her stare that made Pomma shrink back behind D’ol Neric.

“I, too, would like to speak to Teera,” D’ol Genaa said, and as Pomma and her parents and even D’ol Neric stared in speechless surprise she swept across the room to where Raamo and Teera had paused in the door to the hallway.

As Teera disappeared down the hallway between Raamo and D’ol Genaa, Pomma stared after her uneasily. Hastily she tried to center her Spirit-force—to try to reach out to Teera in mind-touch, but without success. Teera had disappeared from view, leaving behind her only a faint wisp of feeling. It was only the vaguest and most uncertain of contacts, but Pomma recognized the answering tremor in her own mind as one of fear.

But D’ol Neric was speaking to her again, and she was forced to turn her mind to him. He was asking about the game of Five-Pense, and if she and Teera could truly play it together.

“Are you sure you are really pensing?” D’ol Neric was asking. “It’s very good that you are trying—but Raamo tells me, you have not been able to pense at all for more than two years, and Teera cannot, apparently, send anything beyond essences and emotions. Raamo has been able to receive no more than that from her, and, as you know, his Spirit-force is very exceptional.”

“But we can, D’ol Neric, truly. I have shown Teera all of Orbora by imaging, and she has shown me—” Pomma stopped abruptly, staring at D’ol Neric in consternation.

“And Teera has shown you what, Pomma? What has Teera imaged for you?”

But at that moment Pomma’s father approached and began to address the Ol-zhaan, D’ol Neric. He was speaking about the great improvement in Pomma’s health since that last ritual of Healing, which D’ol Neric had performed for her, and of the gratitude and great Joy that he and his bond-partner, Hearba, felt. Never one to waste an opportunity for spoken communion, Valdo had, at that moment, great reason to find words of appropriate quality and quantity, and he was more than equal to the occasion. As the words of her father rolled grandly on, Pomma’s mind turned again to what might be happening in the nid-chamber where D’ol Genaa had taken Teera. At last, taking advantage of the fact that D’ol Neric’s attention was still being held by Valdo’s speech, she slipped down from the bench and ran from the room.

Even before she reached the doorway to her nid-chamber, she heard the sound of Teera’s sobbing. Unjoyfulness or—as Teera would have called it in her blunt-spoken Erdling way—anger surged up in Pomma in a hot dark wave. Dashing into the room, she ran to Teera and put her arms around her protectively. Frowning sinfully, she stared at her brother and D’ol Genaa, mindless of the fact that they were Ol-zhaan and therefore deserving of the greatest respect and deference.

“Go away, Raamo,” she said. “Go away and take her with you.”

She turned her attention to the wildly sobbing Teera, and when she next looked about her, Raamo and D’ol Genaa had indeed gone. Alone with Teera, she caressed her soothingly.

“What happened, Teera?” she asked.