Alien Chronicles 1 - The Golden One (28 page)

“Ah,” he said with a blink. “You have found your courage again.”

Ampris nodded. “I think so.”

“That is well. Take care with this. Show it to no one, not even the sri-Kaa.”

Ampris nodded again. “When must I return it? Tomorrow?”

“No. Do not come again so soon. I told you to study the contents slowly. Take your time, young cub. Impatience is no virtue.”

She frowned at the crystal within her fist. “Are you saying this is all the information you have?”

“Study that, then come for more.” Bish sighed. “You must learn not to make assumptions, golden one. You must learn wisdom if you are to save your people.”

Her ears snapped forward, and she stared at him. “What?”

“A great opportunity is yours,” he said. “You are rare and unusual. You are surely our hope.”

“What do you—”

“You have been raised with the sri-Kaa herself,” he said as though she hadn’t interrupted. “One day when she ascends to the throne, perhaps you will be there with her.”

“Of course,” Ampris said blankly. “I shall always be with Israi.”

“Never, in all the long mingled histories of the abiru folk, has something like this happened,” Bish said, his dark eyes glowing. “You will one day be in a position to give much help to your people, and to all the abiru folk. Perhaps you are Zimbarl or Nithlived come again.”

She shivered at his words. “I don’t understand.”

“Perhaps in you the abiru races will find a new symbol of hope. Perhaps in years to come you will rally them for rebellion.”

Fresh alarm flared inside her. Ampris backed up a step. “I am not a traitor,” she said angrily, and shook her fist at him. “If this contains only lies to twist my thinking, I will surely throw it in the river. No matter what you tell me, I will never turn against Israi or the Kaa—”

“This has not been asked of you,” Bish replied, just as sharply. “We do not seek war, Ampris. We want freedom. Freedom as a gift one day from the sri-Kaa. You can persuade her, Ampris. You must.”

“But—”

“Not now, little one. Not now,” he said, spreading out his hands in a calming gesture. “Forgive me for speaking about that which must wait for the future. You are very young. There is time for all that must be learned first. Freedom is not gained in an instant. Nor is it ever granted easily.”

He seemed to be talking to himself more than to her. Ampris stared at him, swallowing an involuntary growl of unease in her throat. His words both exhilarated and frightened her. She wished she had never come here, never followed Israi here yesterday, never returned on her own today. But her feet seemed to have taken to a path that she could not step away from. She wanted to jump back, to keep things as they had always been. But already everything seemed to be changing.

“I should not have come,” Ampris said, backing away now. “I think you have misinterpreted my interest in old history.” She laid the sivo crystal on the corner of the artifact table and turned away. “I must go.”

“Afraid to see if destiny’s hand lies on your shoulder, young cub?”

His question came at her in mocking challenge. She stiffened her spine and spun around with her teeth bared.

“I am not afraid,” she said, squaring her shoulders instinctively to make herself look bigger.

His dark eyes flashed, and he pointed at the crystal with the tip of his tail. “Then take it and make use of it. Or live in ignorance, like the Aaroun slaves outside the palace. It is your choice.”

Anger filled her, and with it came defiance mixed with a rush of arrogance. She was nothing like the slaves. She was friend of the sri-Kaa. He had no right to compare her to those lesser creatures.

Huffing to herself, she hesitated a moment, longing to leave and never come back. But he had piqued her curiosity too much yesterday. She wanted to know more. She craved it as she craved cool water on a summer’s day. And she had come here to get it, after all.

In the end, she gave up struggling with herself. Darting forward, she grabbed the crystal off the table and tucked it into her pocket.

Bish smiled and bowed to her. “Excellent. Go forth and study, my young cub. I look forward to the moment you return with more questions.”

Ampris shot him one last look and rushed out, heading back to the part of the palace where she belonged. When she reached Israi’s quarters, she prowled around until the cleaning maids left the bedchamber, then pulled out her small chest of belongings from beneath her cot and concealed the sivo crystal among her pebble collection. As she closed the pouch containing them and tucked it back beneath her other meager treasures, Ampris growled thoughtfully to herself. She would study the contents of the crystal, to assuage her curiosity, but she did not think she would go back to Bish again.

The old Myal was half-crazed, no doubt from too many years of breathing dust and studying the ancient texts of dead people.

And yet . . . destiny? To lead the abiru folk to freedom? What if Bish’s words were true?

Considering this, Ampris smoothed her palms across the lid of the chest and shoved it back into place. For a moment she dreamed of the fierce priestess Nithlived, rallying the people, leading them in a great march . . .

To where?

Sargas III was a bare, blasted rock spinning in space. They could not go back to it.

The visions faded from her head, and Ampris rubbed her muzzle with a sigh over her own foolishness. Perhaps madness was contagious. If she wasn’t careful, she might catch some of it from Bish.

“Ampris!” one of the ladies in waiting called to her from the sitting room. “What are you doing in there? The sri-Kaa awaits your presence immediately. Come at once.”

And she forgot her dreams in running to do as she was bid.

Hours later, Bish left his worktable and descended deeper into the oldest, most shadowed passageways of the Archives. Stretching for klick after klick, the underground sections of the Great Library of the Kaas now held row after row of crumbling documents, priceless treasures of knowledge fading to dust before it could be transferred to new, more stable media of data storage. He could work a lifetime here and never save more than a fraction of it.

But tonight Bish’s thoughts revolved around another matter. When he reached a small conference chamber where only antiquated torches burned to provide illumination because to use modem sources of light would have alerted Security to the chamber’s existence—and use—he found a quiet gathering of six other Myals waiting for him.

Their muted conversations faded at his arrival. Anticipation filled the air. Bright-eyed and smiling, they watched him take his seat. Bish stared at the floor, unable to meet such eager gazes.

“Well?” Prynan, the youngest, asked. He was forever impatient and usually the first to speak on any matter. “Did she come back? Did she listen?”

“She came.” Bish swallowed a sigh.

Around him, they broke into exclamations of triumph and excitement.

Old Lomat raised his hands in the air. “At last. At last it can begin,” he said. “I have lived to see its beginning. Now I can face the end of my life’s journey without regret.”

“Wait!” Bish said sharply, unable to let them celebrate unchecked. His sense of guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders. “My brothers, it is premature to rejoice yet. I fear I have spoiled everything.”

Silence fell upon the shadowy room like a thudding weight. The torchlight flickered unevenly across their faces, shining reflections in their eyes.

“What happened?” Lomat asked, the quaver of old age heard plainly in his voice. “Bish, you must tell us.”

Bish lowered his gaze from theirs, remorse bitter in his throat. “I spoke too much too soon. In my excitement, I said she was surely destined to free us. I am sorry, my brothers. My unbridled tongue has frightened the cub. I fear we have lost her.”

The others exchanged glances while Bish berated himself internally once again. He wanted to cut off his mane in shame. They had trusted him to speak to the golden one, believing in his judgment, but he had blundered like an untried novice. Prating of destiny and freedom, leading her straight into the jaws of treason.

He groaned aloud. “This required delicacy and tact. I wished to entice her along the path of knowledge, but instead I dumped everything at her feet. I said too much. I frightened her away.”

“But she came to you alone, did she not?” Prynan asked, breaking another silence. “She came. That shows the cub has courage.”

“Yes,” Lomat agreed. “She listened, did she not?”

“She listened,” Bish said bleakly. “To too much.”

“The truth may frighten, but it never does lasting harm,” Lomat said.

“Did the cub take the crystal?” Avnal asked from the back.

Hope touched Bish’s heart, the only hope he had left after his mistakes. He straightened his shoulders. “She did. But not without much coaxing on my part. Will she ever—”

“It is in her possession. She will use it,” Lomat said with certainty. “Let us not fear. The seeds have been planted. If our cause is favored, those seeds will grow.” He came and linked his long tail with Bish’s, coiling them tightly together. “You did the task allotted you, Brother Bish. The rest is up to her now, if she is the one.”

CHAPTER
•SIXTEEN

Twelve sunsets thereafter, the bells of Sahvrazaa Festival began to toll across the city. A glorious blaze of coral, green, and dusky lavender filled the sky, and the setting sun turned the surface of the Cuna Da’r River to molten copper. Melodious and loud, the bells pealed joyously from the spires. The Viis populace came pouring from shops and houses to cheer, to fling silk scarves in the air so that the wind caught them and sent them sailing forth. They greeted the Viis males from other communities arriving on foot in large ceremonial processions.

In the palace, all was merriment and excitement. Fragrant festoons of flowers draped across every doorway and window in the wives court, and there was much hastening to and fro, much calling to attendants, much slamming of doors and giddy laughter and even arguments of excitement.

Gowned in green silk and wearing a rill collar studded with delicate river pearls, Israi tiptoed across her bedchamber in her new sandals and listened at the door, then nodded at Ampris.

Her golden fur cleaned and fluffed to perfection, Ampris wore a scratchy garland of fragrant yellow lileas around her neck. At Israi’s signal, Ampris rolled back the rug on the floor and opened the secret hiding place. She withdrew a slender crystal vial with a stopper carved in the knot that symbolized love.

Ampris could not help but sniff at the stopper, inhaling the musky fragrance of the perfume inside. The scent of it was intoxicating, overwhelming. It made Ampris’s tongue curl against the roof of her mouth and her eyes roll back in her head.

“Ampris!” Israi whispered angrily. “Stop that! I have told you several times. I shall not tell you again.”

Abashed, Ampris lowered the vial and came hurrying to Israi with it. She handed it over, panting with anticipation. Israi carefully placed it inside the tiny wrist bag that matched her gown and that was supposed to hold her fan, her gold toothpick, and any dainty gifts that might be given to her this evening at the banquet.

Tonight was the first time Israi would be sitting at the table with her father, a public announcement to the court that she was now to be considered vi-adult, old enough for inclusion at select functions. It was a heady time, the moment every young Viis female dreamed of, when she officially stepped onto the threshold of adulthood and waited poised to cross it.

Israi was glowing with excitement, her rill flushed, her breathing rapid, and her vivid green eyes brighter than the stars just starting to appear in the evening sky.

“Don’t let it spill,” Ampris said as she watched her friend’s unsteady fingers fit the perfume vial into the wrist bag.

“Gods, no,” Israi breathed. She secured it and drew the cords to close the top of the bag.

Her eyes flashed at Ampris, and they held not just anticipation but triumph as well. “The moment is at hand,” she said breathlessly. “Within hours, my enemy will know how I can strike.”

Ampris nodded, her own heart thumping fast with excitement. “She will never live down the embarrassment.”

Together they gripped hands and laughed.

“Now,” Israi said quickly. “Remember to stay alert and watch for my signal. If my father will allow me to approach his precious
favorite
, I shall give her the gift with my own hand. But if not, then you must slip it from my wrist bag during the dancing and smuggle it into her bedchamber. Can you do it?”

Ampris drew a deep breath, ready to take on any task Israi set for her. “Yes.”

“Good.” Israi ran to activate the wall mirror and swiftly checked her appearance one last time. Her eyes were glittering with more malice than mischief. “Have you heard the latest gossip? It seems the Master of the Hatching has been instructed to allow Zureal to lay her eggs in a separate place from the others. That way my father will know which are hers.” Israi slapped her palm against the mirror, making its energy field bulge and crackle. Fury blazed across her rill, turning it dark blue. “Imagine it! If he should choose a new sri-Kaa from her brood, I could be ripped from my place in an instant.”