darknadir (19 page)

* * *

Brynne had been told to report to Vartra's Retreat when his Link day with Vanna was over. He was discovering it was quite different from Stronghold. Its emphasis was on the religious side and though there was a gym, it was not part of his schedule. He was taking a private condensed course on the cults of Vartra and Ghyakulla and religious meditation techniques. Interesting as it was, it had more of the feel of history lessons about it than anything else.
His time was divided between there and Stronghold, where the physical side of his training continued, mainly with Jurrel as a tutor and sparring partner. His meetings with Kha'Qwa were part of his schedule, but as to what their purpose was, he wasn't certain. Discussions on social studies and current events were mainly what they talked about. But he did enjoy his visits with her.
The need for Link days with Vanna was diminishing as her pregnancy advanced, so he was free to stay longer. This, coupled with the fact that it was difficult for him to remain isolated from the Sholan community because it was all there was, meant he was having to make the effort to fit in for the first time.
"Is this actually a religious establishment?" he asked of Jurrel as they made their way from the refectory to one of the smaller common rooms.
Jurrel gave him a curious look. "Tell me how you think it should be," he said.
"I always associated retreats with people getting away from it, taking a break from the outside world— no comm units, no broadcasts and newsvids, just peace and quiet and prayer."
"We have that, but of course," he said with a slow, openmouthed smile, "we don't disturb them."
"What about the priests or priestesses coming here to shut out the outside world totally and just pray or study?"
"There are those," Jurrel agreed. "But they tend to live at shrines and come here only for study. We have a wonderful library of ancient texts and prophecies."
"What about the self-denial? The living in poverty, working the land, and so on?"
"Oh, we have people who do that, too, but not in our Order unless they've retired. The Brotherhood dues you pay also go to the upkeep of land where we can retire when we're no longer able for active service either as a priest or a warrior. Remember, Brynne, that Vartra is a God of Warriors, too. As for asceticism, why not enjoy good food? One can always fast if need be." He stopped, holding Brynne back at the door to the lounge. "It would be easier for you if you stopped trying to find a Terran comparison for everything when one doesn't always exist. Just be one with us, enjoy our world." He let him go and pushed the door open. "And our good food," he grinned, mouth opening widely.

* * *

The beast was exhausted, they'd have to make a stop. Clenching his fists in the crest of hair down its spine, he jerked back sharply, causing it to lift its neck and snort. Its headlong flight began to slow gradually and by the time it was walking, sides heaving and sweating, he was able to bring it to a halt. Sliding down, he kept one hand firmly wound in the mane.
Leaning heavily on his mount, he continued limping toward the distant mountains. There hadn't been any sign of pursuit yet. The false trail he'd cast must have worked. Now it was time to find a safe place for them to hide out for a day or two so he could rest up and let his wounds heal a little more.
He winced as his foot turned on a stone, pulling at the swelling on his leg. He'd have to clean it again when they stopped. No matter what he did, he just couldn't seem to get out all the poison. A couple of days and it was as bad as before. Worse, if he was being honest with himself. The swelling kept growing larger and his fever was barely kept in check by the plants he'd eaten and chewed up to use as a poultice. Living rough and having to be constantly on the move didn't help at all.
Water wasn't far off, he could smell it now. Having grown up in the city, he knew nothing about herbs and plants, but somehow he'd known instinctively what to look for. He tried to think of home, but it sent a sharp pain through his head. Shaking it, he stumbled on. Didn't do to think about the past. The future mattered now, getting up into the mountains so he could find that place he kept seeing in his dreams. The place with the sweet smelling tree.
He'd have to hunt for food for both of them. The beast was so domesticated it wouldn't know how to go about finding prey in the wild. Suddenly he found himself falling as a root grabbed at his foot. The ground rushed up to meet him, knocking the breath from his lungs as he measured his length. How long he lay there, he'd no idea but gradually was aware of the beast tugging at his hair, lipping at his face with a tongue that felt like a piece of thick, wet sandpaper.
"Yeah, I'm awake again," he mumbled, trying to push himself up, but he was too weak to stand this time. He lay there, smelling the dampness in the soil, feeling the chill air on his pelt, wondering if he'd finally reached the end of his endurance. The beast snorted and nosed something wet and bloody into his face.
"What the..." He put out a hand to investigate and found the carcass of a fish. He began to laugh.

* * *

He was being shaken quite forcefully, Brynne realized as he surfaced from sleep. "What the hell are you doing?" he mumbled, flailing at the hands. "Get off me, Jurrel!"
The shaking stopped and he pushed himself up from the tangle of soaking sheets. His hair was plastered damply across his face and eyes. Reaching up, he pushed it aside then scrubbed at his beard and mustache. Jurrel was squatting on the bed near his feet.
"Woke you again, huh? Sorry," he mumbled, beginning to unwrap himself from his damp bedding. "What was I doing this time?"
"Laughing. Don't tell me, you were watching performing jeggets," said Jurrel dryly. "I think you owe me a decent explanation this time, Brynne. And don't tell me you just saw animals because I don't believe you!"
"I told you, it's nothing," he said, getting up and heading for the bathing room.
Jurrel launched himself off the bed, grabbing him by the arm. Brynne pulled away angrily. "Don't touch me!" he said, his voice almost a snarl. "I'm a telepath, I can't stand to be touched when this happens!"
Jurrel took a step backward, hands held outstretched to show he meant no threat. "Brynne, you have to talk about it. You can't let this keep on happening without telling someone! You need help."
"I need a shower," Brynne retorted, continuing into the bathing room. He stepped into the cubicle and turned on the water. He wanted to be left alone, nothing more, but Jurrel always stuck with him like he'd been glued on.
They
might be afraid something would happen to him during one of these visions, but each one scared the crap out of him.
Sighing, he reached out for the container of soap. It wasn't there. Dashing the water from his eyes, he continued to fumble on the small shelf where it usually lived.
"I have it," said Jurrel quietly from behind him. "I left it out when I showered earlier. Would you like me to help? If you won't talk, then perhaps I can relax you by washing you."
Human reactions fought with Sholan ones as, water sluicing down his body, he stared at Jurrel. He didn't know how to respond. He'd shared showers before, but not with males of either species— not this intimately. He snatched the bottle from Jurrel's hand. "I'll do it myself," he snapped, turning his back pointedly on him as his world suddenly exploded into a room of blinding lights, white tiles, pain, and someone else's absolute terror.

* * *

His head hurt and when he tried to move, he felt sick.
"Be still," said Jurrel's calm voice from beside his ear. "You fell and hit your head."
"My side," he mumbled, trying to move his hand down to feel himself. "I hurt it, too."
"Your side is fine. I caught you. You hit your head on the wall as you fell."
"Must see," he said, forcing his head off the tiled floor. The room swayed and spun around him and he had to swallow hard to stop himself from throwing up. He felt himself being supported into a sitting position.
"You're as obstinate as any Sholan," Jurrel complained, wrapping a towel around his shoulders as Brynne looked down at his side.
"Nothing!" he said in shock, pulling at his naked flesh. "Not a mark!"
"I did tell you," his companion said quietly, beginning to rub him gently with the towel.
"I felt it, Jurrel— a burning pain in my side, just over the ribs." He looked up at him, confused.
"What did you see?"
"A room, lights and— tiles," he said, glancing down at the tiled floor beneath him.
"Visions are strange things. Some are just snatches of scenes you never see any more of, some are events that might be happening, or might be to come in the future. Sometimes you never know what they are," he said, putting a hand under Brynne's chin and turning his face so he could look into his eyes. "Follow my finger."
Shivering, he did as he was asked, then clutched the large towel closer. Jurrel got up and went for another.
"You've got a mild concussion, no more. We have people who know how to make sense of visions. If you'll tell no one what you see, how can we help you?"
"What is it with this world? This kind of thing doesn't happen back on Earth," he said as Jurrel helped him stand. Nausea swept through him again and he had to clutch at the Sholan to stop himself from falling over.
"How do you know? Until we came, your people didn't even believe in telepathy and your gift was considered a freak and unstable," he said calmly, leading him back through to the bedroom and sitting him down on his own bed.
Leaving him there, he went for Brynne's toweling robe and helped him into it, tying the belt round his waist before pulling the covers over him.
"I'm going to fetch fresh sheets," he said, turning to leave.
"It's a journey," said Brynne, lying back against the pillows that smelled acutely of damp Jurrel. "I'm seeing someone on a journey."
Jurrel squatted down on the floor beside him. "Who? Do you know who it is?"
"No. In the dreams it's always happening to me."
"Can you tell where you're going?"
"There was forest at first, now it's plains. I always travel at night to avoid being caught. I had a riding beast this time."
"Is it sequential? Do you pick up where you leave off?"
"No. I've traveled in between each dream. In this one I'd stolen the beast perhaps the day before. I'm injured, I know that."
"In the side?"
"Yes, but the worst one is on my leg. I have a fever."
"Can you recognize any of the landscape?"
Brynne began to shake his head then moaned as he regretted it. Jurrel reached out to touch his forehead, brushing aside the forelock that had fallen across his eyes.
"No, I can't, but then I've not traveled much around Shola on foot. I'm Sholan," he added, his eyes catching Jurrel's. "That much I'm sure of. But the pain in my side had nothing to do with that, I know it didn't. That's something completely different."
Jurrel's hand stroked his forehead again. "It could be a vision of when this traveler finally gets the medical help he needs. Maybe he's reaching out mentally and you're picking it up."
"I don't know, Jurrel. I just wish the visions would stop," he said tiredly, closing his eyes. "I can't go on like this. I'm a danger to myself." He was remembering other dreams he'd had, about being cold and floating in an empty darkness.
"That's why I'm here," said Jurrel quietly, continuing to stroke his forehead and smooth his wet hair away from his face. "We'll go and see Guardian Dhaika tomorrow and tell him about this."
The touch was soothing, made the nausea retreat. Right now he didn't care that the hand was male, just that it was comforting. Sholan males were something of an enigma to him anyway, lacking some of the masculine qualities he was used to, yet having the gracefulness he associated with femininity. Some of them sent out all the wrong signals, as if they were a third, as yet uncharted sex all of their own.
"There are more," he said, beginning to relax under Jurrel's touch. "The room I saw was part of them, but they don't make sense. Fear, there's always a sense of fear. I don't want to go to Dhaika yet. I haven't enough to tell him that sounds believable."
"It's your choice, but please, keep talking to me about them. There's no need to shut everyone out. Between us we might discover what they mean. You've not had an easy time since you came to Shola. First a Leska Link, then these visions. It must have been incredibly lonely. You need friends, people you can turn to. I can be here for you if you wish."
"What's your Talent, then?" he murmured, noticing the stroking had stopped. He was relieved to be able to talk to someone at last about the dreams, someone who wasn't going to ridicule him. "Empathy?"
"Among other things," Jurrel agreed, getting to his feet.

* * *

Rhyaz sat down on the chair beside Lijou's desk. "The
Rhijissoh
's reached Jalna," he said.
Lijou looked up from his work. "I heard. I take it we're in full communication with that world now."
Rhyaz flicked an ear in assent. "Yes. Just finished speaking to Captain Kishasayzar and the four Human agents we left there."
"So we now have up-to-date news on the situation there. Good. About time. Relaying it through the Sumaan ship took far too long. What news is there on the
Profit
?"
Rhyaz picked up the crystal paperweight on Lijou's desk and began toying with it. "Contact negotiations have started, and the Cabbaran and U'Churian delegates are arriving in a few days to endorse the temporary agreement that Kaid reached with them on board the
Rryuk's Profit.
"
"Be careful of that, Rhyaz, it's an antique," warned Lijou. What was it with this paperweight? Everyone seemed to need to pick it up and handle it for some reason. He remembered the last time had been when Ghezu....
"The news is bad." Rhyaz put the crystal down with a thump that made Lijou wince, even as he realized that his mind was suddenly going off into irrelevancies. He knew he didn't want to hear this news.
"Still no word from the
Profit,
and Kaid neglected to tell us that Carrie was seriously injured."
Lijou picked up the paperweight, finding comfort in the smooth surface. "How badly?"
"Bullet lodged against her spine, an archaic Jalnian one with a soft tip. It's serious. She needed specialized surgery, that's why they put her in cryo on the U'Churian ship."
"Then Kusac's in one, too. And they've been missing for three days," said Lijou slowly, trying to take it in. He roused himself. "What are Raiban and Chuz going to do?"
"I had words with them. As of now,
Rryuk's Profit
is officially listed as missing. A search has been implemented along their last known route. The U'Churian delegates' ship is due at Jalna in two days. They plan to join us in the search, same with the Cabbarans they'll be bringing with them. If the
Profit
is there, we'll find it, Lijou. Could be nothing more than a comm breakdown. They might still turn up on schedule at Tuushu in four days' time."
"It takes longer than four days for them to get there," said Lijou. "I know, I read the reports. They aren't officially due there for another seven days."
"The
Profit
can get there faster because of their Cabbaran navigators. They've got..."
"I read that report, too," interrupted Lijou. How was he going to break this news to Konis? It had been bad enough when the message at the palace had been given to him by mistake, but now he had problems enough with that younger daughter of his. And Rhyasha. It would break her heart to lose them both. "Don't try to convince me you believe it's a comm or engine failure. You wouldn't be insisting on a search now if you did."
"We've got one of our own ships posted near the jump point at Tuushu. When they emerge, we'll see them. We can't afford to lose them, Lijou," said Rhyaz quietly. "There's also the fact that they're aboard the ship of two new allies to be taken into consideration. That was my lever with the High Council. We can't let any of the species that trade at Jalna think we're slow to respond to one of their missing ships at this stage in our treaty talks."
Lijou nodded. "When do I tell Konis and Rhyasha?"
"Can you delay it? No need to worry them any sooner than we need to. As you say, we've seven days before we need to tell them."
In his hands, the crystal suddenly seemed icy cold, and its chill went straight to his heart. He put it down just as hurriedly as Rhyaz had done. "You realize this could be what Vartra's warning was about. Not them, but why they've gone missing."
"I'm already working on that assumption. All our people in the field have been contacted and put on alert. I'd be doubting the sanity of following the vision you had, but there's no way I can rationalize that coin you gave me."
Lijou shivered. "Don't remind me," he murmured. "I've been visiting the temple more often than usual, hoping for an answer, another vision, even another visitation, dammit! But nothing! It's as if Vartra has left us to get on with it!"
"What about any of our other visionaries?"
"Nothing. No, wait. Dzaka came to me two days ago with a tale of Kashini screaming in fear for most of the night. He said he and Kitra had the distinct feeling she knew her mother and father were in danger. I dismissed it as pure fancy. Seems I might have been a little too quick in my assessment."
"Contact Dzaka. See if he or Kitra have picked up anything more. And make sure every vision or dream, no matter how trivial or unrelated it may seem, is reported to you."
Lijou nodded. "Is there anything else I can do?"
"You're doing plenty as it is by using the priesthood to pass on messages to our people," said Rhyaz, getting up. "This remains between ourselves for now, Lijou. Chuz and Raiban don't exactly want it common knowledge either. Let's see where we are when the U'Churians arrive."