Blood of the Cosmos (21 page)

“It's not just my safety that concerns me. If you have to worry about protecting me as well as defending yourself, I may endanger you.”

Yazra'h rested the butt end of her katana on the open ground near the shore. “You must be the one to chronicle this adventure. No one else can be trusted to tell the tale properly. We may be hunters, but you are a rememberer. We will kill the wyvern in a day or two, but thanks to your efforts, our hunt will be remembered for centuries.”

Muree'n nodded solemnly. “Yes, Rememberer Anton, you must go along.”

Anton knew it would be folly to argue with the two warrior women, so he gave a nod. “I just want to be sure I don't hinder you.”

“I am not worried,” Yazra'h said in a tone that ended the discussion.

Beltrias said, “I'm only concerned with killing the wyvern and restoring peace to Shorehaven.” He turned to the trees. “I have set up traps. The creature has a foraging zone that extends well up the coast, and I know it will return here. The monster has established a habit of hunting humans.”

Muree'n asked, “I want to hunt, not wait. With a territory so great, how will we find it?”

Beltrias smiled. “When I touch the trees, I see through thousands of verdani. I can sense the stirring fronds and the movements of creatures. Even though the wyvern is lost within the ecological web, I can look deep and can find signs of its passage. I can take us to where it is.”

 

CHAPTER

31

ARITA

Even though she was the daughter of King Peter and Queen Estarra, Arita felt like an outsider. She could see the lush forest around her, sense the majesty of the trees, and sometimes she even heard faint and eerie whispers inside her mind, but it was different from what the green priests said they experienced through telink. Her heart ached when she saw how happy the priests were—and most of all she missed her friend Collin. A green priest … gone now.

When they were younger, she and Collin had studied as acolytes reading aloud to the worldtrees. The two were close, definitely attracted to each other, and they might have become lovers if things had turned out differently, but after the forest accepted Collin as a green priest—and not her—he had gone with a group of isolationists to the uninhabited continent of the Wild.

Nevertheless, Arita remained fascinated with the forest, from a scientific standpoint, if nothing else. She spent time documenting plants and insects on Theroc and on other worlds; all of nature fascinated her, whether or not she could commune with the verdani mind.

Though she had just turned twenty, Arita was mature and resourceful. She had gone to the abandoned Klikiss world of Eljiid, she had seen the lavish botanical gardens on New Portugal, and she longed to see the gigantic Roamer terrarium dome inside Fireheart Station. For now, though, she contented herself with Theroc.

Whenever she had a question about the life cycle or the habits of a strange beetle or fungus, she could have just asked one of the green priests, who understood every interconnected thread of the ecosystem. But Arita didn't want easy answers; she wanted to discover for herself and to add to the pool of knowledge. Her eventual goal was to create a comprehensive—though never complete—encyclopedia of natural history that others could review.

Kennebar, the stern leader of the isolationist green priests, dismissed all of her cataloguing work, claiming it was unnecessary. “Why bother to compile such a catalogue? Any green priest can simply give you an answer.”

Either Kennebar didn't understand, or he was just being arrogant, flaunting his own access to infinite knowledge. “Because other people want to know. And not everyone has access to what the green priests know.”

And it was surprising that the green priests didn't know everything either. The arrival of the Gardeners had raised many fascinating questions. Gracious and grateful, the alien refugees interacted with humans, just as curious about the green priests as the priests were curious about them. Even the gigantic trees wanted to know what they had forgotten in the distant past, and now they marveled at the memories the Onthos shared of their majestic homeworld. Feeling separate, Arita had watched Ohro and his fellow Gardeners revel in the forest. They built no structures, simply lived in the lush undergrowth—glad to be home.

Now, the Mage-Imperator's green priest consort sat with one of the Onthos refugees at the base of a gigantic golden-barked tree. Smiling, Nira looked into the Gardener's dark alien eyes. “I want to understand you, Ohro.”

“As does the worldforest,” said the alien. “We have shared all our memories with the verdani mind. Now it remembers much more than it did.”

As Arita watched, Nira spread her palms against the worldtree bark. “With telink, I can reach the thoughts of any green priest. And so can you.” She nodded to the alien. “Touch the tree. Let's see where our thoughts go.”

The small-statured Gardener glanced at Arita, but he did not seem bothered that she was watching them. Ohro stared at the golden bark and pressed both of his palms against the huge bole.

Nira closed her eyes and did the same. Her brow furrowed. “I'm trying … I can see everything in the verdani mind. So many interconnected thoughts, but the Gardeners … why can't I find you? I know you are here.”

“And yet we are not here,” said Ohro. “Just as when our people fused with the worldtrees to become pilots of verdani treeships to explore the Spiral Arm, we are separate. We have lost that part of the worldforest mind—but you know the trees have accepted us.”

Nira broke her contact with the tree, looking sad. “Yes, I know that. And I have seen the images of your wonderful homeworld that you shared. I wish we could have seen it in person.”

Ohro stood. “We need to rebuild our numbers. We are beginning to reconnect.” The Gardener startled Arita by turning to look directly at her. “Just as she is doing—even though she is not a green priest.”

Surprised, Arita brushed herself off and stepped closer to them. “I'm not connected at all. The trees rejected me.”

“Perhaps it is not what you think.” The Onthos leader sniffed and then reached up to touch her arm. She felt a tingle in his fingertips. “You are connected to other things. Powerful things.”

“That's not true,” Arita said. Or was it? “I hear distant voices, but they are only the faintest of echoes—and it only happens sometimes. I can't touch the trees like green priests can. I'm a failure.”

Ohro blinked his large black eyes, and his expression looked perplexed. “Maybe you are touching more than the verdani mind.”

Arita felt dizzy and confused as she strained to hear the light breeze of whispers inside her mind. She couldn't understand words in the babel of sounds, could barely sense something there. But it was
something
, and it was not the trees. She had always thought those whispers were just echoes of the verdani, a taunting reminder of what she could never have.

But maybe …

The worldtrees had done something to her when they attempted to change her. What if they had opened her mind in a new way? Arita couldn't be sure … but there were times in the utter silence, when she was far from anyone and completely alone, when Arita did feel as if someone or something was watching her from
inside.

Something very different.

 

CHAPTER

32

ROD'H

In the Prime Designate's rainbow-hued rooms, Daro'h dealt with matters beyond Rod'h's understanding. The Prime Designate made appropriate admiring sounds as tailors held up shimmering filmfabric and draped folds of cloth over measuring guides.

One of Daro'h's former assigned mates, Illi'v, a stern-tempered female of the bureaucrat kith, fancied herself a clothes designer. As numerous mixed-breed children ran about in the rooms, his lover directed fabric designs and commanded a whole new wardrobe for the Prime Designate, who indulged her.

The new garments were lightweight, comfortable, and eye-catching. Nimble-fingered stitchers assembled the pieces while Illi'v watched, inspected, and at last approved.

Rod'h did not understand why Daro'h maintained contact with so many of these women. After all, the mating index required them to breed only once, for the Prime Designate was expected to spread his genetics widely and not take only one long-term lover—as Jora'h had done with Nira. Rod'h couldn't stop a flash of resentment when he thought of the upheavals his mother had created in Ildiran civilization. The Saga of Seven Suns chronicled unbroken millennia of history, cultural nuances that had crystalized to perfection—but one green priest woman had changed much of that.

Rod'h had been born for a purpose and raised to meet a destiny, and he had been prepared to do just that. His mother had also had a vital duty to the Dobro breeding program, willingly or not, and she had fought against every aspect of it. Rod'h was disappointed in her.…

After the fabric was draped over his shoulders, Daro'h modeled the new garment. Illi'v tugged at several folds, stepped back to inspect again, then nodded her approval.

Daro'h was more enthusiastic. “It looks marvelous. I will wear it when I attend the lens-alignment ceremony at primary noon.” Smiling, he turned to Rod'h. “And my new friend will accompany me. Rod'h, I want you at my side.”

Rod'h was pleased Daro'h wanted him as a companion. “Of course I will, Prime Designate.”

Daro'h issued brisk orders to the attenders, to the stitchers, and to his former mate. “I know how swiftly you can create such wondrous clothes. Prepare a set for my friend as well.”

Illi'v raised her eyebrows. “The same design, Prime Designate?”

“Exactly the same design,” Daro'h said, then laughed as three of the children got into a wrestling match on the floor. “In fact, let us make similar new clothes for all the children too.”

Now Illi'v reacted with even more alarm. “But … but they are different kiths.”

“Then take different measurements. They are all my sons and daughters.”

Rod'h was impressed with the Prime Designate's warmth and openness, but he feared that Daro'h did not consider wide-reaching consequences. A na
ï
ve and gentle man was not necessarily a good leader. Nevertheless, Rod'h intended to be there to help the Prime Designate make hard decisions, should that become necessary. After all, he had been born to a great purpose.

*   *   *

In a city square with the spires of the Prism Palace in the distance, the lens priestess Arune'l gathered a group of observers along with five lens-kith acolytes. With each multisolar noon, she aligned a central crystal array to focus the light from different directions and different solar systems. The lens array focused all of the bright suns onto a symbolic black cube that absorbed all light. It was a constant show of defiance against the darkness.

Along with his group of attenders and noble kithmen, Prime Designate Daro'h went to witness the daily ceremony garbed in sparkling new robes that shone almost as brightly as the prismatic arrangement.

Rod'h was pleased to be invited along. Daro'h seemed glad to have a person who listened to him rather than regarding him with excessive awe and deference. They walked toward the crystalline lens arrangement, listening to the hush of gathered Ildirans who had come to witness the ceremony.

When the crowd turned to look at the Prime Designate rather than Arune'l, Daro'h gestured for them to turn their attention back to the lens arrangement. “I am just an observer like the rest of you. Proceed, Arune'l.”

The lens priestess raised her hands. “Drawing on the light of seven suns through these lenses, each day we mark a bright passageway to the Lightsource. We draw upon our thoughts, use our
thism
to show the way.”

Workers shifted the lenses so that sunlight from seven different suns poured down upon the central black cube, which swallowed the light. The dazzling rays poured onto the opaque flat surface, having no effect. Rod'h shielded his eyes from the intensity.

Lens kith acolytes checked the calibrations, swinging more lenses into place to intensify the light. Observers in the crowd fell to their knees in supplication.

Rod'h felt a sudden chill go down his back, and a knot formed in his stomach. He did not understand what caused it. Something was happening.

Standing on her raised dais, Arune'l also winced, and a visible shudder rippled through her. Astonishingly, the audience fell to their knees and began clawing at the street. Using hooked fingers, they pulled up the interlocked geometric paving stones, not caring that they bloodied their hands.

“What are they doing?” Daro'h asked. Suddenly, he hunched over, squeezing his eyes shut. He staggered two steps. “Stop! It's too dark, it's—” He collapsed to his knees and vomited violently.

The lens priestess shrieked in horror and clasped her hands against the side of her head as if the pain came from inside her as well.

Gathered Ildirans grabbed the uprooted paving stones with bloody fingers and lunged toward the lens arrangement. The lens-focused sunlight was deadly, and two adherents caught on fire as they stumbled into the concentrated beam. Others rushed the lenses themselves, using the paving stones to smash the crystalline framework. The central lens toppled to the ground.

“The shadows!” Rod'h cried out, realizing that this was another possessed mob like the one that had attacked the Mage-Imperator and Nira, like the one that had massacred the human enclave. He seized the dazed Prime Designate and pulled him away. “I have to get you to safety.”

He felt none of the effects himself, apparently immune as a halfbreed, but somehow, the Shana Rei had tainted this group of Ildirans, infiltrated their collective consciousness, and forced them to act against their will.