Shades of Gray (78 page)

He emerged in the clearing he knew so well. The rock fountain trickled merrily down over the layers of stone into the catch basin at its foot. Behind tall banks of bell-shaped light purple flowers was the bower he shared with her during spring and summer, and to his right was the table where they ate. He knew she was coming when a pair of snow-white jeggets scampered into the clearing. They stopped at his feet, rearing up on their hind legs to chitter at him.

“Lady,” he said bowing his head as she entered the clearing, long skirts all the colors of summer flowers swirling around her bare ankles as she ran to him.

She cupped a hand around his cheek, smiling up at him and sending him images of pleasure at his return and concern that he’d been lost.

“My memories of what happened have been stolen,” he said, briefly touching her hand before pulling away from her. He walked to the fountain, leaning on the edge of it, his back to her. “I must know who did this to me!”

A blast of icy air filled the clearing; then Kuushoi, closely followed by her dzinae Gihaf, stepped out of her Winter Realm. Moments later, a wave of heat presaged the arrival of L’Shoh.

“At last, they’ve returned you,” Kuushoi said. “How
dare
they interfere with Us and imprison him!”

“Welcome home, Vartra,” said L’Shoh, inclining his dark head toward him as Vartra turned away from the fountain to greet the new arrivals.

“You know who it was?” Vartra demanded of the white-pelted Entity.

“Silence,” said Ghyakulla slowly, frowning at her sister. “The matter is in hand.”

“You expect the ephemeral, Kusac, to deal with them?” Kuushoi asked scathingly. “He has enough to contend with dealing with the M’zullians!”

“He is the Avatar, you know that,” said L’Shoh. “He alone will deal with them on behalf of all of us. It has been decided.”

“He’s a mortal! He hasn’t the strength or the abilities to . . .”

“Enough!” said Ghyakulla, showing a rare spark of anger. “You will not inflame Vartra to rashness, Sister. We have decided what will happen, how the matter will be dealt with. We cannot fight ourselves—we depend on arming others to do this for
their
mortal realm. Our Avatar has been tested and not found wanting.”

“You might not be able to fight, but I . . .”

“Will do nothing,” said L’Shoh, striding to her side and taking her by the arm. “It’s time you visited
my
Realm, wife,” he said firmly.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, attempting to pull free. “We long ago gave up the pretense of being married.”

“Then it’s time we renewed it,” L’Shoh purred, pulling her close against his side. “I find I have need of some feminine company, and it will keep you from being tempted to meddle.”

It’s summer here, my time,
sent Ghyakulla.
She cannot meddle even if she would.

“Wait till they go to M’zull,” hissed Kuushoi, giving up what she knew was a losing battle. “There they will be in the mountains, among the snow, my Realm, Sister!”

Ghyakulla projected the image of summer on M’zull, even if there were Sholans and Primes among the snowy mountains. “My season,” she said, adding the words for emphasis.

“You’ll still be with me,” said L’Shoh. “Don’t forget I have the right to call upon you during Summer.”

Kuushoi hissed her displeasure at him.

Go now, you disturb my peace,
sent Ghyakulla, gesturing a portal for L’Shoh into existence.

“Lady Kuushoi, if you please?” said Gihaf, making a courtly bow. “Winter is where I belong, not here.”

“Go, faithless one!” snapped Kuushoi, gesturing. Gihaf winked out of existence.

Vartra watched them leave then turned back to Ghyakulla. “It’s been a long time since he demanded her company during summer,” he murmured. “But I do have the right to face them, whoever they are.”

Taking him by the hand, she drew him back to the fountain. “They are not your geas, the Valtegans are,” she said softly, reaching for the pottery cup that sat on the lip of one of the small pools of water. Leaning forward, she filled it and handed it to him.
If your memories can be recovered, this will return them,
she sent.
If not, then they are lost to you.

Lifting the cup to his lips, his eyes never leaving her face, he drank.

Images of him rousing his people after the Cataclysm played in his mind, sent by her, then those of him unable to stand up to the unnamed enemy. The meaning was clear—he was a leader, not a fighter.

Aid him by filling him with hope when all seems lost,
she sent.
That is your strength. Did the cub not say you helped him break free of K’hedduk’s programming? This is your task. Let those born to fight do what is appointed to them.

He nodded slowly as his anger began to dissipate and peace began to fill him. Handing the empty cup back to her, images of a time of rest and healing began to steal over him, followed by knowledge of a fight well fought, beyond what could have been expected of him.

Food is ready for us,
she sent, taking him by the hand and gently urging him toward where the table stood.
Glad I am you are home with me.

He stopped her, reaching out to cradle her face in his hands and gently kiss her, letting the last of his worries about the mortal realm fade. He knew how much talking, even forming thoughts into words cost her, never mind the confrontation with her sister.

Thank you,
she sent to L’Shoh.
He needs this time. There is work enough ahead of him.

“WELCOME back,” said Conner’s voice as strong arms helped him to sit up.

His sight was blurred, but he could see the glass held in front of him.

“Drink this,” Conner said, putting it to his lips.

Gratefully, he reached for the glass and took a gulp, only to start coughing as the fiery liquid burned its way down his throat. Then it hit his stomach with warmth that spread throughout his body.

“What the hell is that?” he gasped, trying to ignore the fact that the hand he raised to rub his streaming eyes was still Valtegan.

“Brandy. A strong medicinal Earth drink.”

He grunted and moved to get up, but Conner tried to press him back.

“Rest a minute, Kusac. They’ve all been told you’re back,” the priest said, wrapping a blanket around him.

Then he remembered. “How do I tell her I killed her sister?” he whispered.

“Did you?” asked Conner gently. “Or did you save Carrie’s life?”

“I could have prevented so much suffering,” he said, letting himself be gently pushed back down on the flagstones as he clutched the blanket around him. “But it would have changed what is now.”

“It would indeed. You did what was right, Kusac.” Conner’s hand clasped his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “You realized you were with Elise, not Carrie, and when it mattered, you were able to do what was needed. You saved Carrie’s life, prevented her from being terribly mutilated, and released Elise from the horror of her captivity and torture.”

“You know too much about this,” said Kusac, closing his eyes in an effort to stop his tears. “How? Was this a test, or real?”

“Did your experiences and actions have a lasting effect on you and others? Yes, it was real, and it was a test. Had you chosen to do so, you could have altered the future out of all recognition.”

“How do you know what happened?”

“Ghyakulla showed me,” he said. “You passed Their test and are in fact the Avatar of Justice for this time.”

“Zsadhi, the Sword of the Gods,” whispered another voice. “The legend is true!”

As Kusac lifted his head, he caught Conner’s abrupt silencing gesture to M’kou.

“I’m not a legend,” he snapped, sitting up and shivering with cold and exhaustion despite the blanket. “I’m me, nothing more! Conner, she’s coming. I’ll not have her see me like this. I have to change back. Tell me how to draw energy properly from the earth.”

“Still your mind, then sink your consciousness down into the stone floor and the earth beneath it,” said the priest. “Feel the soil, the rocks that are the bones of the earth, then tap their life force. You didn’t go deep enough last time.”

“Thank you,” he said, pulling the blanket closer. “Some Avatar I am,” he muttered. “My sword is on Shola!”

“Is it?” asked Conner, smiling enigmatically as he tucked his hands into his sleeves. “I think you’ll find Carrie and Kaid brought it with them.”

Kusac huffed, then turned his mind inward. His years of mental discipline made it easy to raise his body temperature as soon as he sensed the free energy of the earth. As he let his light trance carry him deeper, he felt that energy begin to swirl and flow through and around him.

Murmuring a few words of thanks to Ghyakulla, he grasped hold of it, drawing it in as if he were breathing. He could feel his strength returning, and he began to visualize himself as Sholan again.

This time, the change wasn’t quite as painful, but feeling every hair on his body forcing its way through his skin to the surface was not pleasant. As his legs began to change, he fell back to the ground and cursed himself for not realizing that a sitting position wasn’t wise given his complex hip and shoulder joints.

Finally, it was over, and the hands in front of him were once again his own. Shaking with fatigue, he pushed himself back into a sitting position, pulling the blanket that had fallen away from him, back around his shoulders again.

“Next time, I think I’ll let the blanket go,” he murmured. “It might have fused to me.”

“I believe you’d just have absorbed it as another energy source,” said Conner, accepting M’kou’s help to stand up. “Your clothes vanished that way. M’kou, would you hand him the flask on the seat over there? It’s a protein-rich drink. He’s had no food or drink for three days.”

“Gladly,” said M’kou, fetching and opening it.

“So time there and here was the same,” he said, gratefully accepting the hot drink. “How did you know I’d return today?”

“Tonight,” the priest corrected him with a gentle smile. “I didn’t. It’s been made fresh each day, ready for your return. We’ve all been waiting for you.”

“Well, Old One, I know intimately what it’s like to live as a M’zullian. M’kou,” he said, looking over to the young male. “We need cold-weather gear and training for you all. Temperatures below freezing and deep snow.”

M’kou pulled a face. “I’ll speak to the General about it, Captain.”

The sound of bare feet hitting the stone steps behind them drew their attention, and Kusac began to struggle to his feet. M’kou’s hands were instantly there to help, to take the flask from him.

He knew she’d been aware of his return, but like him, she hadn’t tried to contact him mentally yet. By an unthought agreement, they didn’t dare trust their own senses right now.

The curtain at the foot of the stairs was thrust aside, and she stood there, her hair a wild mane about her face and shoulders, dressed in a short blue sleeping tunic, feet and legs bare. She looked unbearably fragile.

“Carrie,” he said then he was almost knocked off his feet as she flung herself into his waiting arms.

“You’re back,” she said, pulling his face down to hers and covering it in kisses until their lips met.

You scared me,
she sent as he pulled her close, feeling her living warmth seep into his body, her love surrounding him.

I scared myself
, he admitted.
You’re the other half of me. Without you, nothing matters.
She smelled of sleep and of his son Shaidan. The blanket, forgotten, fell to the floor.

Not here, not now,
he replied, aware of Kezule and Kaid arriving. Reluctantly, he drew back, still holding her.
When we’re alone.

“Are they always like this ...” began Kezule

“Passionate?” asked Kaid with a smile. “Not really. They’re being remarkably restrained since they’re in public.”

“You’ll need to excuse us,” said Kusac, turning to look at them. “I’m in dire need of food and sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Is everything all right?” asked Kaid, suddenly concerned.

“Everything is as it should be,” Kusac reassured him as he reached down for the blanket, but Kaid was there first.
Thank you, Brother,
he sent.

“Tomorrow at 4th hour, after first meal, in the Council chamber. I’ll update you.”

“You need a medical check immediately,” said Kezule. “You changed shape twice—there could be damage you can’t sense.”

“There’s none. Tell him, Conner.”

“He’s fine,” the priest nodded in agreement. “I monitored him as soon as he returned. His body and mind are as sound as they were before.”

“I need you fit for the rescue,” said Kezule.

“Tomorrow,” said Kusac firmly, his arm around Carrie’s shoulders as he led her to the stairs.

 

Banner got up as they entered their suite.

“Shaidan’s still asleep,” he said. “Glad to see you back, Captain.”

“Thank you, Banner,” Carrie said as Kusac murmured his thanks. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Nodding, Banner left.

“I have to tell Shaidan I’m back,” Kusac said as the door closed. “He has nightmares if I’m not there.”

“I noticed. You need to cut that Link with him, Kusac,” she replied, heading for the cupboard where the cans of protein drinks were stored. “It isn’t healthy for him.”

“I will,” he replied, throwing the blanket over a chair back. “But gradually, so he doesn’t feel rejected. I know it’s not healthy for him to be on the edges of our Leska Link, but I have blocked him out when appropriate.”