Call of the Herald (24 page)

"Thank you, sir," Master Jarvis said, knowing
that sometimes Master Grodin seemed to drift into the past,
remembering a time when Jarvis was but a student of his. "The
refugees have been moved into the audience halls."

"Yes, I know. They can all be together with
their family and friends now. I wish I could do more for them.
Maybe you could take them some candied cherries?"

"Perhaps I will," Master Jarvis said. "I'm
concerned about Master Edling's motivation. I suspect he had
another reason for wanting the people moved."

"You and Edling must end this rivalry between
you," Master Grodin said as he wagged his finger. "Wasn't it just
last week I caught the two of you fighting in the store room?"

In truth, that had been nearly thirty years
ago, but Jarvis knew better than to tell Master Grodin he was
mistaken; instead he tried to nudge his aging mentor back into the
present. "I'd feel more comfortable with the refugees in the
audience halls if all of the cave-in release keys were accounted
for. One is missing."

Master Grodin turned sharply and chewed on
his beard a moment before he responded. "I suppose that leaves me
only one course of action," he said, his eyes clearer than Jarvis
had seen them in some time. "Since Edling feels compelled to
represent the refugees, then that is how it shall be. Let it be
known that he and his must remain in the audience halls at all
times, so that he can personally ensure the safety and well-being
of his charges."

Jarvis left with a smile on his face,
wondering how much of Master Grodin's condition was an act, and how
much was the guise of a clever old man.

Chapter 14

The bitter taste of betrayal can be purged
only by fire.

--Imeteri, slave

* * *

The next few days were long and miserable
while they waited at the campsite to heal, taking time when they
could to gather supplies. They were not in very good shape for
hunting, so they settled for gathering fruits and nuts.

The weather was clear and warm, and light
breezes carried the many scents of summer. The comet was no longer
visible in the night sky, and no new comets showed themselves.
Catrin wondered if it had all been just a cosmic joke, the first
comet really being the only comet. She could still feel a charge in
the air, but she wondered if it was just a lingering effect from
the first comet.

"Do you think there'll be more comets?" she
asked Benjin.

"Can't be certain, but I assume so. Legends
say thousands of them crowd the night skies during the Istran Noon,
which should occur some seventy-five years from now. I'm guessing
we'll see a gradual increase over time."

They had seen no further signs of soldiers,
for which they were grateful, but the fact seemed to disturb
Benjin. He was nervous, edgy, and constantly looking for signs of
the Zjhon.

"I know there're more soldiers following us.
I'm almost certain the man who died in the marsh wasn't alone, but
I can't understand why they don't attack. They're more heavily
armed than we are, and they have to know that. They know where we
are, and they've had time to bring a larger force here," he
said.

"They may be heavily armed, but I bet none of
them has ever changed the course of a river or knocked down the
side of a mountain like I saw Catrin do," Strom said. His words
sounded strange to Catrin--like something from a fireside
story.

"But they knew they were coming here to face
the Herald," Benjin replied. "They must have known she would have
great power. I don't think they're totally reacting out of fear,
although I do agree they have good reason to be cautious. I still
think they must have some other reason for following us but not
attacking."

"Perhaps they are bringing more troops here
to confront us," Chase said. "Maybe the terrain has just delayed
them. We should remain watchful."

"Maybe they don't need to attack us now
because they already know where we're going," Osbourne observed.
"They're probably just waiting for us to walk into an ambush."

Benjin nodded and hesitated before he said,
"You may be right, but I'm not sure. They may have other plans for
us. Still, we'll need to be alert for signs of either ambush or
pursuit."

* * *

Catrin spent a long day looking for fruits,
nuts, and the herbs and spices they needed to replenish Benjin's
medicinal supplies. When she returned to camp, her companions
seemed to be better, a great relief after days of misery. There was
a strange look in their eyes as she approached.

Strom stared at her so intently that she
finally couldn't stand it any longer. "What are you looking at?"
she asked Strom more sharply than she'd intended.

"I'm looking at your necklace, Cat. It didn't
look like that when you first showed it to us. It was all milky and
dull, and now it's . . ."

Chase finished the sentence for him. "It's
just beautiful."

Catrin lifted the leather thong over her head
and examined the carving, amazed by what she saw. The carved fish
was now clear and almost lustrous. It caught the light and sent
small prisms dancing around her. She ran her finger across it and
found the surface smooth where it had seemed rough and porous
before. Trying to find a reasonable explanation for the
transformation of the small carving, she wondered if it had just
been dirty and in need of cleaning. She tried to remember exactly
how it had looked when she had first found it. It had seemed almost
as if it were dried out rather than dirty.

"Maybe your swim cleaned it off," Chase said,
which made better sense than anything else she had come up with,
but Catrin wasn't so sure. She tried to put it from her mind, but
in its place came anxious thoughts of Istra.

Somehow, the light of a comet, or a
goddess--depending on how she chose to perceive it--gave Catrin
access to powers of which she had no knowledge or aptitude. Through
some unknown process, she knew she could gather the comet's energy
and release it in devastating ways, but she didn't know how to
control it. Only when her life was in danger did she even seem to
have full access to it; most of the time it was a distant dream,
tickling her senses then receding too fast to pursue.

She needed to know how to use the energy
without hurting anyone. If she did not learn to control her
outbursts, it might kill her and everyone around her. It was an
uncomfortable feeling, and it put Catrin on edge. Her mind whirled
with questions and only a handful of answers, and those answers
only spawned more questions.

Trying to her calm herself, she sat down and
closed her eyes. Fears and anxieties cluttered her mind and
prevented coherent thought.

"Are you all right, li'l miss?" Benjin
asked.

"I have too many thoughts in my head to
concentrate on anything because other thoughts keep pushing
themselves into my mind. It's frustrating, and I don't like it at
all."

"I understand," he said with a slight nod of
his head. "Let me try to help. There are many techniques you can
use to quiet your mind and get a clearer view. Would you like me to
teach you some of what I know?"

"Yes, please. Would you?"

Benjin told them to all sit in a circle
around the fire, directing Catrin to sit directly across from him.
Sitting with his legs crossed and his arms relaxed, he put his
hands on his knees, palms facing up. The others followed his
example.

"Close your eyes and concentrate on slow,
steady breaths to the count of seven. Breathe in through your nose
and out through your mouth. Keep your eyes closed, and relax your
muscles," he said, watching them. "You need to relax a bit more,
li'l miss; you're as rigid as stone. On every exhale, concentrate
on your muscles becoming looser."

Catrin tried to calm herself, but the harder
she tried, the more tense she became, and she grew angry with
herself for not being able even to relax properly. How could she
ever hope to control her power if she could not even control her
own state of mind? Realizing her fists were tightly clenched, she
opened her eyes with a frustrated sigh. The others still had their
eyes closed and looked relaxed. Benjin's eyes met hers.

"Perhaps we should try another technique that
can be useful when your mind refuses to be quiet. When our heads
are full of thoughts, it can be nearly impossible to suppress them.
It's often better to deal with each thought individually as they
come to you. Not all of them are pleasant, but we have to learn to
accept them; they are a part of us. We should deal with them and
try to understand them, but at the very least, we should accept
them.

"I want to teach you an ancient exercise.
First, close your eyes and begin your breathing again. When a
thought comes to you, grab on to it and accept it. Recognize it as
your own, and try to understand why you are thinking it. Picture it
as a small ball of energy; hold your hands out and cup that energy
in your palms. Examine the energy and analyze it until you come to
know it. When you are comfortable thinking about it, take a deep
breath, and when you exhale, release that energy into the
universe.

"Your thoughts are your own, but your pain
and suffering can be eased when you let the universe help, and your
joy and happiness can be shared with the whole of existence. Your
hope can go to every part of creation. By sending out your
thoughts, you will feel less alone with your feelings. You can help
others find their happiness, and you will receive help dealing with
your troubles."

Catrin was surprised by his philosophical
words; she had never heard him speak that way, even in his previous
lessons about meditation. She tried to concentrate on taking his
advice rather than analyzing it, but concentrating was a challenge.
Breathing deeply, searching for calm within the violent storm of
her thoughts and emotions, she became detached from the world,
transported to a place of her own making that was comforting yet
unfamiliar. Letting the thoughts swirl around her for a moment, she
tried to find her center and braced herself for the onslaught.

A feeling of anger and betrayal flashed into
her consciousness: it was hot and painful, and further images of
anguish and pain came to the fore. She remembered the townies'
abuse of her and her friends; visions of the attack on Osbourne
played through her mind. Then her dreamlike vision moved on to
another scene: the townspeople challenging her father and accusing
her of being a witch. Images of the invading army hammered her
until she almost lost her focus.

After a deep breath, she accepted the anger
that was part of her. Releasing the thought as she exhaled, she
blew it away from her.

While floating between thoughts for a moment,
she was surprised by the lull in the maelstrom of her
consciousness. She felt a great release from the thoughts she had
accepted; she chose to persist, believing she was ready for her
next thought. It did not take long before it drifted in from
somewhere in the back of her mind. This was a warm, comforting
image, however, and it felt secure and safe. She realized that
thought was Benjin.

She envisioned him with his salt-and-pepper
beard, his long black hair with streaks of gray pulled back with a
leather thong. She saw his strong features and muscular build.
Pouring herself into the meditation, she concentrated on that
thought, building it up for a huge release. She felt great
gratitude to Benjin for protecting her, for being her friend and
mentor, and for caring so much for her. She let the thought expand
to include all those around her then to all those she had left
behind. To all who had ever been kind to her, she sent out this
thought as a gift of thanks. With her next exhale, she let it pour
from her.

Catrin floated blissfully above her
consciousness, having experienced a massive, gratifying, and
unexplainably beautiful release of tension.

"Your minds have become very quiet now,"
Benjin said in a low and rhythmic voice, hardly more than a
whisper. "Focus your consciousness. I want you to picture a
strawberry. Focus on the details rather than the whole. Envision
the colors and textures; picture the seeds and leaves until every
detail is complete."

Catrin heard his words somewhere in her mind,
and she tried to comply. She began to visualize the strawberry, and
soon she tasted the sweetness of the freshly picked fruit,
strawberry jam, and strawberry-rhubarb pie. All her memories of
strawberries permeated the thought, but she was brought out of her
meditation by the sound of Chase laughing and talking
excitedly.

"That was great, I'm telling ya. I could
actually taste strawberries."

"And strawberry jam," Osbourne added.

"I tasted pie," Strom said with a grin.

"Hey, Cat. Do you remember the time you tried
to shove strawberries up my nose?" Chase asked, and Catrin laughed;
she'd been thinking about the same thing.

"Did any of you experience anything else?"
Benjin asked.

"When we first started, I felt angry,"
Osbourne said. "I remembered the way I was attacked and the way
Catrin was treated."

"I felt a lot like that too," Chase said,
"but then I got to thinking about how Benjin has protected us and
kept us safe. And then I felt like I was a protector too."

"Me too," Strom added, and Osbourne
nodded.

Catrin sat back, wondering if it was all
coincidence. Could they all have been thinking the exact same
things? Benjin met her eyes.

"I didn't want to say anything without some
confirmation, but Catrin's powers are beginning to manifest in
different ways," he said. "During your meditation, I could actually
see the energy above Catrin's palms. It's difficult to describe. It
shifted and moved, but I got a general sense of what she was
thinking. It seems she was able to influence our thoughts."