Below the Root (19 page)

“Did Teera speak to you of this?” Raamo asked Pomma. “Did she say why it was that she ran away?”

“Yes,” Pomma said. “She said why. But it was not because she was a fallen. She says she was born below the Root, and she lived there with her father and mother. She said she ran away because her father was going to kill Haba, to eat,” Pomma’s face twisted in disgust. “She said that all the Erdlings eat lapans. She even has herself, only not pet ones. Teera said she has had Haba for a long time, and her father did not want to eat him, except that they were all very hungry. Teera says that everyone is hungry now below the Root, because too many babies have been born and there is not enough food anymore. But she would never eat Haba even if she were starving, so she took him and ran away. She says she was angry—that’s like unjoyful, only worse—with her father when she ran away, only she isn’t anymore, and she cries at night because she can’t ever go home. And one night she tried to run away from here and go back, but she was afraid of falling so she came back.”

“So it is true that they are flesheaters,” Genaa said. “And did Teera speak to you of the Kindar infants whom they have taken?”

“Yes,” Pomma said. “I asked her about it, and she said that some times the babies who fall die, unless the Erdlings take them below the Root, because the Ol-zhaan who come to look for fallen babies come too late or can’t find them. So the Erdlings call to the babies, and if they come near the tunnels, and if they are small enough, they take them down to live with them. Teera says her grandmother was a fallen.”

“But the Pash—the Erdlings, do they eat other flesh besides lapan?” Neric asked.

“Birds, I think,” Pomma said. “Some kind of birds that live on the forest floor and don’t fly. Sometimes they set traps for the birds at the mouths of the tunnels, but they don’t catch very many. And they eat mushrooms, too, big black ones that grow under the ground, and roots of plants, and whatever falls down from the trees in the orchards to where they can reach it. But Teera says there are too many Erdlings now, and there is never enough food and she’s been hungry lots and lots of times. She says she’d like to stay here forever and ever because we have so much to eat, and because of me, only she feels so unjoyful about not seeing her own family again.”

“What is it like to live below the Root?” Raamo asked. “What can it be like to sleep and wake and live out your days in deep dark holes?”

“Teera says there are big open places called caverns as big as—as big as a grund,” Pomma said, “with great high roofs that are covered with sparkles like raindrops, and there are big places of water, and it isn’t dark because of a thing called fire that is like little pieces of the sun, and sometimes there is light from tunnel openings. And every family has small caverns all around the big ones that are like nid-places, only their nids are made from the skins of animals. And every day, Teera says, everyone spends some time in the orchard tunnels, where they can feel the sunlight on their skin while they watch for fallen fruits and nuts.” Pomma’s eyes were shining with excitement and her small hands gestured wildly as she spoke, as if painting on the air the scenes she was describing. “I know just what it looks like,” she said, “because Teera has shown me by imaging, but I’d like to really see it, wouldn’t you, Raamo? Wouldn’t you like to go there to see it?”

“Pomma,” Neric interrupted, “would you go back to your chamber now and stay with Teera for a while. We will speak to you again before we go.”

When Pomma had obediently left the common room, Neric turned to Raamo in great agitation. “Do you understand,” he said, “the significance of what we have just heard? Do you realize the danger we have put your sister in by exposing her to the knowledge she now has? Has it occurred to you what a threat Pomma is now to the Geets-kel, and how necessary it would be to them to silence her if they knew? Only think. A Kindar child, a talkative intelligent Kindar child, knows the secret they have protected so well for hundreds of years. If they feel justified in keeping hundreds of people imprisoned, and thousands more in ignorance, in order to protect their evil secret, how much do you think Pomma’s welfare would mean to them?”

“You may be right,” Raamo said. “I don’t know. I cannot think they would harm Pomma—”

“Fool,” Neric said. “You are a fool, Raamo.”

“Perhaps,” Raamo said. “But what can we do? How can we protect her?”

“I don’t know,” Neric said. “First, of course, we must warn her to be silent. We must impress on her the necessity of absolute silence concerning what she has heard. And I can tell your mother that she must not yet be allowed to return to her classes at the Garden. With less contact with other children, she will be less tempted to reveal what she has learned. And then we must plan. We must begin to plan what can be done to overcome the power of the Geets-kel and—to free the Erdlings.”

“But how can we do that?” Raamo asked. “Our plan was only to discover the secret, and now we have done that. I can think of nothing more we can do. Unless—unless we simply go to the Geets-kel and tell them what has happened and what we have learned and—”

Neric threw up his hands in exasperation. “Raamo. Sometimes I despair of your sanity, and of my own for choosing you as my accomplice. The Geets-kel are evil. Their motives are evil. We could do no worse than to tamely deliver ourselves into their hands.”

“Evil?” Raamo said. “But why?” Bowing his head he pressed the palms of his hands against his forehead as if it were possible to catch and hold his thoughts and thus to still the turmoil of his mind. Long moments passed in silence. At last Raamo raised his head and looked at Genaa. She had not spoken for a long time. She was sitting very still, her chin lifted and her eyes glowing darkly.

“Genaa,” Raamo said. “What do you think? What do you think we should do?”

“What you should do, Raamo, I cannot say. But I know what I will do and what I will never do. I will never take part in any plan to free the Pash-shan. And if I thought that it was possible for you and Neric to free them I would—I would go to the Geets-kel and tell them what you planned to do.”

“I told you,” Neric said bitterly. “I warned you Raamo about your precious Genaa, and you would not listen.”

“It is because of your father, isn’t it?” Raamo said. “But do you still believe that he was killed by the Pash-shan? Even now that we know the Pash-shan are not sharp-fanged monsters? How could the Erdlings have killed him and for what purpose?”

“I don’t know that,” Genaa said. “But I know that my father went down to the forest floor to try to make contact with the Pash-shan, and he never returned.”

“Aha!” Neric said suddenly. “Did anyone else know of his plans? Had he, perhaps, confided in a sympathetic Ol-zhaan? Did he seek counsel concerning his plan to contact the Pash-shan? If he did, he was probably taken not by the Pash-shan but by the Geets-kel. And that would explain many of the other disappearances of adult Kindar that have occurred in recent years.”

“I thought of that,” Genaa said. “I thought of the possibility that the Geets-kel might have somehow arranged for his disappearance. But they did not know. Before he left, he told me that
no
one else knew. He said he was only telling me so I would know what had happened if anything went wrong. He said he had been working on a theory concerning the Pash-shan, and that if his guesses were correct, he would be in no danger; but that if he did not return by nightfall, I would know that he would never return again, and that I should not wait and hope as it would only make the sorrow harder to bear.

“And then he left. I saw him go. I followed him until he began to climb down below the lowest branches. He never came back. I don’t know what the monsters in human form who call themselves Erdlings did to him, but I know that he is dead. If he were not dead, he would find some way to let me know. So the Erdlings must have killed him. And so you see that I could never help you to free them.”

Genaa had been staring down at the floor as she spoke, but now she raised her head and looked toward Raamo with eyes that were like dead moons. “I would help you, Raamo, if you were planning to kill them,” she said. “My cause is still to rid Green-sky of the curse of the Pash-shan.”

T
HERE SEEMED TO BE
nothing more to say. Nothing could be said that would alter either Neric’s or Genaa’s determination to oppose evil as they saw it. And as for Raamo, he could find no words at all to express the fear that gripped him, a fear that arose from no identifiable threat but only from a tormenting feeling of uncertainty—an unaccustomed and tortuous uncertainty that seemed to be pulling him into small painful pieces.

Before they left the D’ok nid-place, Raamo went to Pomma’s chamber to tell her that they were leaving and to warn her to speak to no one concerning Teera, or of any of the things she had heard discussed that day in the common room. Hearba and Valdo having been summoned and bid farewell, the three young Ol-zhaan took advantage of the lull in foot traffic brought about by the approaching hour of food-taking and made good their retreat to the open forest. They spoke little as they skirted the city and approached the Temple Grove through hidden sidepaths. But when they had safely reached Neric’s hideaway in the Vine-screen near the Great Hall, Neric once more confronted Genaa.

“I must ask for some assurance,” he said, “for one promise.”

“And what promise is that?” Genaa asked.

“An exchange, a promise for a promise. We will promise to let you know what we plan to do, if you will promise not to go to the Geets-kel until then. That you will wait until you hear our plans before you decide to betray us to the Geets-kel.”

“And how do I know that I can trust you to keep your part of the promise?” Genaa asked coldly.

“Surely you do not distrust Raamo?” Neric said.

Turning to Raamo, Genaa held out both her hands. “Tell me you will do nothing without including me,” she said.

“In mind-touch?” Raamo asked.

“No!” she said, impatiently. “You know I cannot pense. But if you tell me with your eyes and palms as well as your voice, I will believe you.”

So the promise was given, and a pledge made to meet again in the same place on the next free day. Then the three prepared to leave the hiding place for the branch-paths of the grove. Since it was not yet dark, Ol-zhaan and Kindar helpers were still abroad on the grove branchpaths. Neric peered out cautiously through the Vine leaves. After several minutes he motioned to Genaa.

“All right,” he said, “there is no one coming—no, wait!” Grabbing her arm, he suddenly pulled her back behind the Vine screen. There was another long wait before he turned to whisper, “It was that paraso, D’ol Salaat. He appeared very suddenly near the hall entrance and then went by slowly, looking in this direction. I hope he didn’t see you.”

Genaa’s shrug made it plain that she could not be concerned with the actions of such as D’ol Salaat. She stepped out through the growth of Vine, and in a few seconds was strolling casually along the branchpath. When she had disappeared, Neric turned to Raamo.

“Do you think she will keep her promise?” he asked.

“She will keep it,” Raamo said. “But I don’t know what else she will do.”

Neric sighed. “If only we could find out more—discover new information that might influence her. If we could find out more about her father. I’m almost certain the Geets-kel had a hand in his disappearance. In the days between now and the next free-day, we must think long and hard about what we have learned today and what we should do about it. If we are alert and diligent, perhaps we will find a way to learn something of great importance. But one last word of warning, Raamo. Be very careful when you are with D’ol Falla. There are rumors that she was once greatly gifted in the skills of the Spirit. I would remind you to guard carefully against revealing our secrets to her in your attempt to learn the ones of which she is the guardian.”

In the days that followed, Raamo had much to occupy his mind. Most of all he thought of the Pash-shan—the Pash-shan who in horrible, half-seen forms had haunted his childhood nightmares, and who it now seemed were only other Kindar—Kindar who had been shut away, thrust down into darkness and transformed into fearful threatening legends.

He considered, too, what should be done about it, but he came to few decisions. There seemed so little that could be done. It could not be right and good that the Erdlings should be imprisoned and the Kindar deceived and deluded; but there was the Root, and no decision could alter the fact that the Root was indestructible. There were the rumors, of course, that the Root was withering. Teera, herself, was proof that somewhere it had withered enough to permit the passage of a small girl. Perhaps the withering would continue, and in the meantime there was the possibility that food could be supplied to the hungry Erdlings. But that would mean the Kindar must be told.

But should the Kindar be told? Raamo did not even know if Neric would agree that they should tell the Kindar, and he was quite sure that Genaa would not agree. And what would happen when the Kindar knew? When they saw that they had been deceived about the Pash-shan, would they then believe in nothing? And if they no longer believed in the Ol-zhaan, would they also lose their faith in everything and everyone? It seemed to Raamo that Kindar who had no faith in each other and in Spirit-life, would not be Kindar at all.