Priestess of the Eggstone (30 page)

Jerimon took the paper. “I think I saw those over here somewhere.” He shifted a stack of parchment.

“If you find any, let me see them,” I said. “Where’s Tayvis?”

“Not helping here,” Jerimon muttered. “He can’t go far.”

Jasyn picked another stack, heaving a sigh. “Are you sure there isn’t another way to do this?”

“It’s the best I could think of,” I said.

“And it better work,” Jerimon added.

I silently agreed with him. Tayvis was in the bedroom, systematically rattling the carved screen panels.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Looking for another way out of here.” He poked his fingers through a series of holes and yanked at the panel. It creaked but held. “Feel better?”

He kept his back to me, his tone neutral. I was starting to wonder if I’d imagined everything on Dadilan. So far, he hadn’t treated me as more than an acquaintance. Why argue so much with Jerimon, then? He made no sense, I had no idea what he was thinking. Jerimon had been quite clear, though. I wasn’t sure which one I preferred.

*Most intriguing,* the Eggstone said, reading my thoughts.

“Go away,” I muttered.

“What was that?” Tayvis asked, finally turning to look at me.

“The Eggstone was just talking.” I let my voice trail off. None of them actually seemed to believe that the Eggstone talked to me. I don’t think I would have believed in a sentient rock if it weren’t in my head.

Tayvis tugged at another panel. “I’ve thought over what you said about their culture. With only a couple of days, you can’t do much, so, concentrate on where you can do the most good. They have obviously had a major population crash. What caused it?”

I silently asked the Eggstone.

*I have not thought of that. It has been many centuries of decline.*

“Well?” Tayvis asked.

“Climate change, I think.” This was so far from my area of knowledge that I really had no idea.

“How long have they been in this system? The sun looks like it’s aging.”

“I don’t know. Ask me to fly a ship instead. That I can answer.”

“Something has changed. Like you said, a major shift in climate could explain a population crash.” He moved to the next screen. “Are they native to this world? If we knew it might suggest a direction.”

I shrugged. “What are your earliest memories of the Sessimoniss?” I asked the Eggstone, talking under my breath.

The Eggstone hesitated. I felt currents of hidden levels within its memories. The Eggstone had its own secrets. *Your memories,* it said, cold and dry and ancient as dust. *You have promised.*

“After Council tonight,” I said.

Memory came, slow, dredged from uncounted past centuries. I was stunned by the implications. The Eggstone reluctantly shared its first encounter with the Sessimoniss, vague memories of a large ship and another species, then suddenly crystal clear thoughts and emotions from the Sessimoniss who first touched the Eggstone. I saw an ancient stone structure, far older than the Sessimoniss, crumbling buildings baking in the dry heat. Thoughts of the overlords who had not stayed to colonize the planet. Sessimoniss creating a new culture, building a new city of stone. And the Eggstone, squarely in the middle, shaping their ways, teaching them new ideas, pulling them from ignorance, building a new civilization.

“Well?” Tayvis rattled another screen. He glanced over his shoulder when I didn’t answer.

I stood with my mouth open, overwhelmed by the new information. I shut my mouth. “They aren’t native to this world, but they’ve been here thousands of years.” More information flooded my mind. I was dizzy with it, my head felt swollen and huge, but I wasn’t going to pass out this time. “The climate has been changing, slowly growing hotter and drier. The Sessimoniss were never fully adapted to this world before. The stress is killing them off.”

Tayvis studied me a long moment, his face an unreadable mask, which meant I had upset his image of me again. I had done something unexpected.

“Just what is the Eggstone?” he asked. “Some kind of computer?”

“You believe it actually talks to me?”

“There is absolutely no other way you could know the language. Nobody knows the Sessimoniss language.” He turned back to the screen. “So there has to be some kind of connection between you and it.” He yanked, his fingers jammed into crevices in the carvings. “You have no psychic abilities, at least as far as humans are measured. So who’s to say you don’t have some other wavelength? What is the Eggstone, really?”

“I don’t know. It won’t tell me.” I felt as if a string pulled from behind my left eye, connecting directly to the Eggstone, still on its altar. “It could be some kind of artificial intelligence that connects through a brain wavelength that most humans don’t have.”

He pulled hard at the screen, muscles bulging under his black uniform.

“Press the two leaves carved near the top,” I said sharply. My eye ached like someone was yanking it out of its socket.

Tayvis pushed the carving. He was rewarded by a soft click. The panel swung outwards a few inches before sticking in windblown grit. “How long have you known about this?”

I rubbed my eye. “About five seconds.”

“Fair enough.” He curled his fingers around the barely open panel and pushed. It creaked, giving only a few inches before sticking again. He pushed his hand into the opening and shoved harder. It popped open, swinging into the space beyond.

The sky outside was alive with sunset light. The dust filled air glowed red and purple. Streaky waves of dry clouds high above caught the sunlight, changing to gold. The nebulae radiated soft creams and roses, streaked with clear blue.

I stood beside Tayvis, staring in awe. Not even the fabled blue skies of Perlion could compare.

“Piece of cake getting out of here,” Tayvis said as the sunset faded, giving way to starlight and the mellow glow of interstellar gases.

The window opened onto a wide ledge about twenty feet above a courtyard. Drifts of sand piled in corners. A gate sagged in the far wall, showing glimpses of the street beyond. The temple was located at the center of the city, but to the west lay only abandoned ruins.

“Now we just have to figure out where we escape to.” I rubbed my head again. The pain changed from stabbing to throbbing. I was not looking forward to Council in just a few hours.

“What are you going to tell them tonight?’

“I don’t know. I don’t know if it will make any difference anyway.”

“We’ll get out of this. I won’t give up until I’m dead.”

“Which is only too possible.”

He leaned against the edge of the screen, away from me, still watching the incredible sky.

“Why did you come anyway?” I asked. “Why push your way into the Sessimoniss?”

“Let you have all this fun by yourself?” He grinned.

My heart skipped a beat, and I remembered why I’d promised to meet him when his enlistment was up.

“You opened one,” Jasyn said behind us.

Tayvis glanced back, still grinning. “Come see the sky.”

She crossed the room, her bare feet soundless on the worn stone. She still wore her evening dress, like me, only hers looked good even with the hem ripped and her ruffles drooping. She stood in the open space between us, staring out.

“It’s even better here,” she said. “Looking up the courtyard you couldn’t get any idea of what it really is like.” She breathed deep. The wind was quiet for once, the air still. “I came to tell you they brought food. Something new.”

I crossed the room, thinking Tayvis and Jasyn would be right behind me. I turned at the door. The window framed them against the colored sky. She gazed out, he watched her. I backed from the room, blinded by sudden tears. I didn’t have a chance with Tayvis, not with Jasyn there. He couldn’t want me, short and plain, when he could have her. I stumbled across the courtyard, trying to tell myself it was all right. He hadn’t promised me anything, only that he wanted to meet me again, someday. I wasn’t angry, only sad and hollow and empty. How could I miss something that had never been?

The Eggstone curled in my head, its silken threads winding through my emotions and thoughts. I didn’t care. I lowered barriers that I hadn’t even realized I’d raised. The Eggstone wanted to know what humans were like, let it experience everything. I tasted its curiosity, tinged with a compassion I wouldn’t have guessed existed. It said nothing, its presence strangely comforting.

Jerimon looked up from his piles of parchment. He put a sheet aside and stretched. “I think I’m actually starting to understand some of those. And it’s scaring me.” He sniffed. “That doesn’t smell like rat, fish, or bugs.”

I looked at the trays on one of the low couches. More of the mushy grain, fruit, greens, and drosht meat in a brown sauce. I wasn’t hungry. I picked at the drosht meat, not wanting it but not knowing what else to do with my hands. The meat was chewy, tough, and the sauce strangely acidic.

“Any good?”

“Different,” I said. Right then I would have gladly traded all of the food for freeze-dried chicken noodle soup. I wanted something familiar, even if it was vile and not usually considered food.

Jerimon picked up a chunk of meat. Tayvis and Jasyn returned, laughing together. I turned quickly, heading for my sanctuary, the altar room.

“Was it something I said?” Jerimon asked.

“She’s worried about tonight,” Tayvis answered.

I stood in front of the altar, staring down at the black Eggstone nestled on the incredibly blue skystone block. I fingered the embroidered strip set with skystones down the front of the priestess’ robe. Another skystone broke free of the block. Jasyn laughed, then spoke, her voice too soft for me to make out words. I sighed as I slipped the robe on.

*In your borrowed memories, love is supposed to make one happy. Why are you not happy?*

“It isn’t that simple in real life.”

That started a long explanation of vids and books and fiction. The Sessimoniss had history and legends, but not fiction, not pretend stories with pretend characters.

I fastened the robe, gathering the Eggstone as the Sessimoniss knocked on the outer door. I took a deep breath, readying myself as best I could. I lifted my chin and opened the door.

They had sent higher-ranking males this time, a full dozen of them, all wearing their finest tunics. Sessimoniss eyes had to be tuned to a much different wavelength. The colors were absolutely horrific.

Dresh’Nikterrit of Kishtosnitass watched me, his sideways blinking betraying amusement. He bowed, the exact amount courtesy dictated. “Your escort to Council, to show honor to the Priestess of the Eggstone.” The harsh words of his language echoed in the stone hall.

“I am honored indeed,” I said, returning his bow.

The Council room looked much the same as the night before. The clan heads waited impatiently. The seat for Sekkitass was conspicuously empty. I took the stairs slowly, trying to look dignified. My escort moved away to join their clans. I came to the central floor and stopped in front of my chair, staying standing. I felt like a child playing with grownups.

“We wait for Sekkitass,” Kishtosnitass announced.

We waited. And waited. I finally sat, my feet aching from standing on the unforgiving stone. We waited more. The Sessimoniss shifted irritably as the time crept past.

“Sekkitass is not present, Council is ended.” Kishtosnitass raised his spear to slam the end against the floor.

“No,” I protested.

He stopped, his spear still raised.

“Sekkitass will not come until after the Testing, after a new priestess is Chosen. If you will not hold Council, you will not hear me. You will not learn how I can help you.”

“Council must fill all seats,” Risskaratass said flatly. “Sekkitass is not present, we cannot hold Council.”

“We will hold Council. Now,” I said.

“Weak human.” Keristass scraped his claws over his spear haft.

“Yes, but also the Priestess of the Eggstone. You will listen to me.” I stared him down, meeting his alien yellow eyes. “You have called for the Testing. I cannot stop that, I would not if I could. But I have only a few days. You will hear me.”

Keristass rose slowly to his full height. He towered over me. “I will kill you where you sit, Bashnessit.”

“You challenge me?” I said, loud enough that my voice echoed in the cavernous hall.

“Challenge is for warriors, for true people, not for weak ones who should never have presumed to believe they have a right to stand in Council!”

“I accept challenge,” I said levelly. “Using the weapons of my House and Clan against the weapons of your House and Clan.” The ritual words came from the Eggstone. It caught a glimmer of what I planned. Approval and worry filtered through my mind.

The other clan leaders watched, impassive.

Keristass spat, showing his disdain. His crest rose fully erect on his head as his anger grew. “You have never killed in battle; you are not a warrior. You are not worthy of challenge!”

I had killed someone on Dadilan, shot her point blank. I still had nightmares of her body sprawled on the courtyard stones.

“Challenge has been given and accepted.” Kishtosnitass slammed his spear against the floor. The crack echoed through the room.

“Against that?” Keristass pointed a claw at me. “Lower than drosht, you insult me!”

“You issued challenge,” Kishtosnitass said, voice flat and emotionless. His yellow eyes turned to me. “As the challenged, state time and place.”

“Here, and now.”

They hissed in astonishment. A black robed priest darted out a door on a tier high above. Keristass growled. Poison dripped from his claw onto the floor leaving a small dark stain, like dried blood.

“Then begin,” Kishtosnitass said. “The challenged will go first. What weapon will you choose?”

I lifted the Eggstone. It seemed to drink in light.

“That is no weapon.” Keristass hissed.

“Then you will not be afraid to hold it.” I shook inside. I gambled the Eggstone could establish contact with Keristass. Any sign of weakness or fear from me would end it before it began, though. I cradled the Eggstone in both hands, relieved they held steady.