Zonaton (14 page)

           
"It's in my head." She went back to writing on his wing with unsteady and large movements. The symbols sometimes overlapped the blood vessels. Pausing, she tilted her head to one side to observe her work, then glanced back up at him. "I forgot how to make a k."

            He had no idea what she was talking about, but it didn't matter.
Maybe you will remember later.

           
Emmala shrugged.

            He took the time to check their locale, his senses heightened for any sign of danger. He was especially on the lookout for anything he could capture for their evening meal. Regular feedings were beginning to show on Emmala. Already he could tell a difference in her appearance. The pinched look  had disappeared, and her little body was beginning to fill out and blossom.

* * *

           
Zonaton.

           
His head jerked up, unaware that he had been daydreaming.

           
Forgive me. I was thinking.

            You were thinking of her.
Divoll peered closely at him.
Do you know why you were summoned?

           
Zonaton didn't try to hide his amusement. These summons were becoming more frequent, and all for the same reason, or similar reasons.

           
Emmala. It is always about my Emmala.

           
The old geron shook himself. Loosening scales rattled like pebbles falling down a rocky hillside. Here and there Zonaton spotted patches of skin where the scales no longer grew back. Of all the gerons, Divoll was the oldest Elder he knew of and had met. The creature was nearing the end of this life, and among the other gerons, he was the most revered.

           
I will be blunt. Your feelings for her are not those of a Paired. When any of us are around you, your emotions are clear to us.

            And that bothers you?

            It bothers many of us,
Divoll admitted.
Has anyone discussed with you about the duties of a Pair?

           
Zonaton tilted his head. The Elder already knew his question had evoked an immediate response from him. It would be futile to deny the fact that Divoll's query had made him angry. To his surprise, the Elder spoke again before he had the chance to answer.

           
Do not throw back at us the fact that we have not been Paired ourselves, so therefore we have no right to question you. I myself have seen six true Pairings in my two lifetimes, and none of them have taken the path you have chosen
.
Divoll's tone was controlled, but there was no mistaking the irritation, or the threat.

            Zonaton hesitated momentarily. The geron's real question remained unspoken, but it was there, hanging in the background like an ominous cloud.

           
You are talking about the fact that I have taken her into my heart.

           
If Divoll wanted to be blunt, then he could match it with his own.

            The geron paused, apparently surprised by Zonaton's unexpected honesty. Zonaton got the distinct impression that the Elder had expected more subterfuge. Perhaps even some denial. It was time he was open about his feelings.

           
I am in love with my Emmala.

            It cannot be.

            No, it cannot be, but it is.

            You cannot take her to mate,
Divoll argued.

            Zonaton agreed.
No, I cannot, but that cannot stop me from loving her in all other ways.

            You are not raising her like a Pair.

           
He mentally frowned.
If you mean I am not raising her like a parent does his child, no. I am not raising her like that. I am raising her to be self-sufficient. To be brave and resourceful. To be wise. To be content. But I am also teaching her how to love and be loved. I am teaching her more than a parent would, and more than what she would have been taught had she stayed with her own kind.

            Divoll sauntered sideways across the rocky precipice where he crouched and gazed at Zonaton with milky blue eyes. Zonaton got the impression that it was because the ancient neck muscles gave him great pain, as was expected in advanced age, and this new stance put less of a strain on him.

           
What will you do when she finds another of her own kind to mate with? Will you let her go?

           
The question was one he knew would be asked sooner or later. Once a Paired human reached the ability to care for himself, and no longer needed the guidance or security from his geron, the human was freely allowed to return to his own kind.

            Zonaton knew that day would come, and more quickly than normal in Emmala's case because of his own age. He knew it was inevitable, but the knowledge didn't stop the sharp, almost unbearable pain it brought with it. Which was why he tried not to dwell on the prospect.

           
You know I will. You know I must
,
he replied softly.

            It wasn't the idea of Emmala finding her mate. It was knowing that when she did, he would lose her forever. That was the future he couldn't bear to arrive, and it was also the only reason why he was glad to know the end of his own days was drawing to a close.

           
Perhaps it is for the better that your first life is near.

           
Zonaton jerked his head up, surprised by the geron's astuteness. Or was the Elder able to read his thoughts?

           
"Zon?"

           
The call for him was faint, but it held no sense of urgency. He remembered he had promised not to be long, and he still had to fetch her some new clothes before he returned to the cave.

            Divoll noticed the interruption, waving a hand to dismiss him
.
Go. Go to her and see what she needs of you.

            Is that all you needed to see me about? To warn me about my feelings for my Emmala?

           
The ancient geron took a deep breath.
I have said what needed to be said. You may go.

           
It was then Zonaton realized Divoll had summoned him, not because he was an Elder, but because the old geron sincerely worried for Zonaton's emotional and mental health. Nodding slightly in deference, Zonaton took off from the rocky crest to return to the human awaiting his return.

            Hours later, the call went out to all gerons that Divoll had passed from this life with dignity and honor.

Chapter Twenty

The Lies

            The next morning, to Zonaton's shock, Akrim landed at the entrance to the cave. It was rare that an Elder ventured away from the mountain where they gathered and held audience with those gerons called in. For one of the oldest and most respected Elder to appear told Zonaton the matter was grave and urgent.

            Akrim wasted no time delivering the news.
You and the girl must go immediately to the village and try to pacify the humans.

            "What? Why?" Emmala rose from the pallet and glanced from one to the other. She had heard the geron's order.

            Akrim bowed his long neck in her direction.
The villagers are arming themselves with weapons they have created from their old technology. They intend to attack us.

            "Why?" she repeated with growing fear.

           
Because they no longer wish to be contained within the boundaries we have placed them in.

            Because they still believe I am responsible for attacking your mother,
Zonaton added.

            "That's nonsense! I tell you, she's lying!"

           
And after yesterday, I am certain the young man who attacked you is adding his heated words to hers.

           
What happened yesterday?
Akrim asked.

           
While I was meeting with the Elders, Emmala was forced into copulating with a young man she met from the village. She was injured. I knocked the man unconscious before returning her here to heal.

            The Elder huffed.
You may well be correct in your assumption. The young man is probably the catalyst which caused this uprising to gather momentum. You must hurry, Zonaton. You do not have many days left in this life, and the villagers could do a lot of damage to others, as well as to themselves, if they are not calmed soon.

            Before Zonaton or Emmala could reply, the Elder turned and flew away.

            Zonaton turned to see Emmala pulling on the new clothing he had brought to her last night. She tied her long hair back with a strip of cloth.

           
You are not coming with me, Emmala.

            She halted to give him a questioning look. "Why not?" she demanded. "You heard the Elder. We've both been ordered to go."

           
Indeed, but it could be too dangerous for you to go.

            Perching her hands on her hips, she hotly questioned, "And how do you expect to communicate with them?" Another thought came to her. "And what did he mean when he said you do not have many days left in this life? What was he talking about? Are the villagers also on some sort of time table?"

           
No. It is not they who are on a time table. It is me.
He started to say more, then decided this was not the place or time. He had to resolve this issue with the villagers as soon as possible.

            "What's that supposed to mean? Did the Elders give you a deadline to have this done?"

            He waved for her to mount him.
We will discuss this further later on. Right now, we are urgently needed in the village.

            "All right, but this isn't over. I expect a full explanation from you when we get back home." She climbed onto his shoulders. Zonaton took off before she was able to clamp her legs around his neck. He felt her slight discomfort as she straddled him, but he couldn't do anything about it. In time, she would be healed to where it would no longer bother her.

            Rather than circumvent the mountains, as he usually did, he chose to ride over the top of the ridge, to save time. The air here was thinner and much colder, but it would only last for a short time. As he knew she would, Emmala burrowed her face and arms beneath the soft rolls of skin where his neck met his shoulders to prevent from becoming chilled.

            He banked slightly to avoid the high peaks and angled downward, toward the village. In the distance, sitting like a haze on the horizon, he could see the second village, one the villagers called Exodus. A tiny, narrow trail connected the two townships, the same way Exodus was connected to the third outlying village named Leviticus. The single roadway, wide enough for one cart, or for two people walking side by side, was the only means by which the villagers could send communications. With his acute eyesight, Zonaton could see the trail was packed with people, all of them heading for Genesis.

            The center of the village was already filled. One person stood on a raised platform in the midst of the growing crowd. A man. As Zonaton drew nearer, he recognized the figure as the young man who had attacked Emmala. A heartbeat later, she echoed his thoughts.

           
"It's Hawse. What is he yelling about?"

           
It cannot be good.

           
Someone in the mob caught sight of the geron approaching, and a cry went up among the throng. There was a flash of light, and something zinged over Emmala's head.

           
"They're shooting at us!"

           
Hopefully, not for long.

            He restrained from firing back, knowing that to do so would instigate an automatic, all-out rebellion. But it didn't stop him from opening his mouth to let them see the shimmering ball of fire readying in the back of his throat.The villagers were angry, and the young man named Hawse was only increasing their ire.

           
Call out to them, Emmala. Tell them to cease fire.

           
He felt her rise up in order to see and be seen above his head. "Stop firing! Stop firing this instant!"

           
Another discharge went off, but went wide. Zonaton landed near the podium where Hawse stood, watching. A large bandage was wrapped around his upper thigh, but he stood straight and didn't favor the leg. The dark look on the human's face confirmed what Zonaton was thinking. There may not be a happy ending to this confrontation.

            Emmala slid off his neck and hurried over to the man. "What have you been telling them, Hawse? What lies are you spreading?" she heatedly asked.

            "I'm not spreading any lies. I tell the truth, Emmala, unlike you." He pointed an accusing finger at the geron. "That creature struck me down!"

            "You were violating me!" Emmala yelled back. "You were hurting me, and you wouldn't stop, even when I begged you to!"