Mind Over Psyche (21 page)

“He thinks Deryl's going to kil
l Tasmae?”

“Not intentionally,
perhaps.”

“That's ri
diculous!”

Ocapo rode up beside them. “Of cour
se it is!”

Terry nodded. “Many of us believe he is here to save her—enough to stay Leinad's hand for now. But when he entered the Remembrance, he became part of Leinad'
s domain.”

*

Tasmae stirred slightly, still caught in Gardianju's life. The memories passed more quickly, so that she tumbled helplessly in the swift current and was only fully aware of snatche
s of time.

Twin suns loomed in Kanaan's sky, so that there was no night, no comforting starshine and shadow, only glaring light and heat and the drying of her world. Gardianju stood on the cracked dirt of a dry lakebed and gazed dully at the heat-seared sky. Kanaan's throes had worn past her defenses, beyond her training, and manifested themselves upon her. She rubbed her hand against her arm, so dry that the skin came off in chunks rather than flakes, and raised bloody hands to the burning sky. The Ydrel was there, and was not there, still caught in his own battle against the demons. She longed to help him, to cure him, but knew she could not. In her state, she would only bring him more pain, so she stayed away. Nonetheless, if she'd had moisture for tears, she would have wep
t for him.

The suns faded, and with them the heat. The people sighed with relief. Soon, however, the sighs turned to moans as the temperature continued to plummet. She had an apprentice now, and they spent much of their energy on keeping Kanaan and its people warm. It left little for themselves, and they lay listlessly under blankets near the hot springs where her village had retreated. All around her, she felt the despair of her people, and the loss of hope worried her mo
st of all.

She escaped her mind and found herself with the Ydrel. He was better now, able to understand and to answer her questions.
Winter,
he told her, and shared an image of a small blue world moving along an elliptical path around a star, tilted on its axis so that the sun's rays shone more brightly on some areas than on others. Then he showed her even more alien visions: thick cold white ash falling from the sky, covering the land in the softest of ice. Children oddly hampered in thick clothing that covered even their faces, ran about, molding the ash—no, the
snow
—into balls and shapes, throwing them at each other and
laughing.

She didn't understand the images, but they comforted her, as did the gentle trust of his mind. It was the only real warmth
she felt.

“Ydrel. Deryl,” Tasmae whispered as the scene changed and she was again caught in the rushing current of the Re
membrance.

“Oh, man, do you
smell that?” Joshua moaned in ecstasy as they broke through the trees and the aroma of cooking meat reached them.

Ocapo inhaled and hummed in pleasure. “Not much longer. We can stop and walk f
rom here.”

“I have so missed meat! The only thing that could make this better is a Diet Coke and about 400 milligrams of i
buprofen.”

“Are you in pain?” Terry asked as they dismounted. He pulled the pack off his unicorn then hurried to Joshua, who moved mo
re slowly.

Nonetheless, he waved his friend off. “Just stiff from all the riding. I haven't ridden this much in years. I'll be fine—though tomorrow might be a differe
nt story.”

He pulled the pack off Glory and set it on the ground. “Hold on, baby, let me see if there's a brush
in here—“

Glory tossed her head and
took off.

“Hey!” He called
after her.

Ocapo closed his bag and handed it to him. “There is a waterfall in a cove down the trail. They are going to bathe. She said she will return for her brushi
ng later.”

“Great. Wet horse. You know, a shower doesn't sound
half bad.”

Ocapo clapped his shoulder and led him down the path, Terry just behind. “Later we will go together. You should not wander off the trails alone. Remember what I said about traps? The plants may not recognize you as
a friend.”

Joshua cast a suspicious look at the trees beside him. That creeped-out feeling started crawling along his spine, when a heavy beat with a flying melody distracted him
. “Music!”

Ocapo laughed. “I
told you.”

“Do you have dancing?” He could not think of a better way to work out his kinks or his
anxieties.

Ocapo nodded and quickened his pace. “I, myself, am not v
ery good.”

“I'll teach you—but I want to learn your dances, too.” He saw Terry lagging behind and reached back to include him. “Come on, Terry! I declare a hiatus on any heavy topics. Tonight,
we party.”

*

Gardianju fell to her knees in the middle of the marketplace and concentrated all her strength on keeping two of Kanaan's tectonic plates from shearing each ot
her apart.

Help me
, she commanded, and her apprentice, then some villagers, knelt beside her and offered her their strength. She took it, pulled, and gradually, Kanaan's struggles ceased. She focused the last of their energy on the mountain near the site of the quake. It shook, then crumbled, pouring tons of trees, rock, and debris into the gap that h
ad opened.

She and twenty others had to be carried to the healers, but Kanaan would survive an
other day.

A season of calm came, though it held no calm for her. The torments of the Ydrel had increased as the torments of Kanaan lessened, and she devoted her talent to healing his mind, working with synapses and neurons as she would earth and flora, and sharing in his sufferings as she had shared in her world's. She sat in the corner of her room, arms crossed over her stomach, rocking, and her walls seemed unnatur
ally pink.

Another progression of the seasons had come, and again, they were in a season of calm. Even the Ydrel seemed to have calmed, though she did not know whether the demon attacks had lessened or if he could better defend against them. It did not matter; if he had been in torment, she could not have helped him this time. The events of the last Progression had left her unable to think, barely able to care for the world—or herself. She lay on the ground in an open field, staring up at a blue sky in which the smaller sun was catching up to its sister. She saw them but did not see them, for visions filled her mind. Kanaan caught in a deadly dance with another world. Bright flashes on an alien planet. Wrong. Bringing the demons. Bringing insanity. Insanity all around her. All around the Ydrel. Ydrel comes, but not to her. To another. A Miscri
a. Tasmae.

A surge of jealousy, then the visions reassert t
hemselves.

The Ydrel comes to Kanaan, bringing change—and peril. Too much change. Too much peril. The other world explodes. Its pieces rain on Kanaan. Ydrel reaches out, clasps the demon planet. It is whole. It survives. The aliens survive. Kanaan changes. The dance, so perfect, so comfortable, changes. Snow falls fro
m the sky.

She didn't try to interpret or even understand the visions, merely let them play in her weary mind until they became one with h
er dreams.

More seasons of pain and confusion, torment and visions. Then, a sudden clarity, like awakening from a deep sleep. She looked at her hands, shocked to see the wrinkles, stared in amazement at the gray in her hair. Had it been so long?
The Ydrel
, she thought.
The Ydrel is still a child.
A moment later, she wondered why she thought that. No child could know what he knew. No child could have battled as he had. Ydrel Mentor, Ydrel Guide. Not Yd
rel Child.

She pushed the thoughts aside. God had given her this clarity for a reason. She had duties. She summoned the Keeper of Remembrances, and closed her eyes to rest until he arrived and presented her with a seedling. She caressed its tender shoots, opened her mind, and imprinted it with her memories, experiences, and visions. It burst into bloom, then one by one, the blossoms closed into buds. Only at the proper times would they open again to reveal thei
r secrets.

Next, she summoned her protégés, one of whom had been newly discovered during her time of visions and was being trained by her own apprentice, now nearly her equal in caring for Kanaan. Nonetheless, he had not had contact with the Ydrel. That must change. She would help him forge
the link.

But when they touched the Ydrel's mind, her protégé fell to the ground screaming and did not stop until God took him two d
ays later.

When he breathed his last, Gardianju whispered heartfelt thanks that his suffering had ended, then turned to her newest student, who knelt beside her,
terrified.

This will not happen again
, she vowed.
To commune with the Ydrel is too dangerous.
Yet they needed his information; she knew that, too. Her visions had shown
her that.

Once she had fled her mind to a Netherworld, where she had found the Ydrel hunted by demons. Now, she would find a way to pull him from his own mind to a place of her choosing. Somewhere neutral. Somewhere safe. Somewhere where there was only the Will of the Miscria and the Answers of the Ydrel. Her own Ne
therworld.

She would never allow another Miscria to die as her appre
ntice had.

*

In the hidden grove, with a unicorn keeping watch, Deryl whispered in his sleep. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Don't worry, Gardianju. I won't hurt Tasmae. I swear, I won't. I'll make
it right.”

*

The sun was setting on the mesas, but with the clear sky and incredible density of stars, everything was still visible, if a little washed out. Nonetheless, Joshua got hints of the variety of patterns and colors whenever someone's costume caught the light of the several bonfires in the center of the camp. The Bondfriends—and maybe regular Kanaan for all he knew—loved color and pattern. He looked forward to the morning when he could see everyone's outfits
in detail.

As with any large but close-knit community party Joshua had known, small groups had formed up, with people of all ages moving from group to group, the kids often at a full run. For the most part, they avoided Ocapo, Terry, and Joshua, content to cast glances their way. Even the children observed the rule, which impressed and touched him. He smiled and winked at one little girl who hovered near a tree just on the edge of what she'd apparently been told was the boundary, but before she could take that as an invitation to cross that boundary—and start a flood of curious kids, no doubt—he looked away toward the bonfires in the center of the campground. Over one roasted a huge animal with way too m
any limbs.

He shouldered Ocapo and pointed to it. “So, everybody gets a d
rumstick?”

As if in answer, the same child he'd smiled at appeared before him, bringing him a roasted leg that would put any turkey to shame. He chuckled—it felt so good to laugh—and took a bite. His eyes closed in pleasure as
he chewed.

Ocapo nudged him, and he opened his eyes to see a young lady skipping out of the way of a young man. Laughing, she dashed past, with him i
n pursuit.

“Oh-ho,” Joshua
commented.

Ocapo gave him a knowing smile. “You know the everyn who are doing the mating dance? Those are their Bon
dfriends.”

“Really?” He watched as the man caught his mate. They spun a moment, nuzzled, then she squirmed loose, and the chase was on again. A few people looked up with tolerant amusement. “They haven't been doing that the whole afternoon, have they? I'd be too exhausted to—uh—you know,” Joshua finish
ed lamely.

“Everyn do have greater stamina than Bondfriends, though Spot thinks Cawa drags things on. Krrrass doesn't seem to mind, though. For that matter, neither do they.” He watched the flirting pair
, wistful.

“You have a soul-mate?” Jos
hua asked.

“Not yet. Do you mi
ss yours?”

“More than words can say.” Joshua breathed through pursed lips, letting go of his sorrow before it could overtake him, and stood. “But this is a party, and I'm not going to think about that now. Come on. If I've got to meet anybody, let's meet them, then let's get the groove on, Kana
an-style.”

But Ocapo wasn't listening—not to Joshua, anyway. Rather, he was stock still and focused, his head turned toward a path in the maze. Joshua looked at Terry, found the healer mimicking his own confused e
xpression.

Soon, everyone had turned toward the edge of the clearing. The music faltered and died. The dancers stilled. Everyn landed on the trees or sat up from where they were resting on the ground. Even the children stopped their wild games to turn and focus. Joshua couldn't see what they were looking at, yet he hesitated to ask or even move lest he disturb something important. Instead, he followed Ocap
o's stare.

The camp was near one of the openings of the maze, and Ocapo had told him while they ate that Tasmae had created the woods beyond it to hide the entrance while at the same time corral the Barins into it. Around the only clear path, thick woods discouraged straying, except for a few clearings, where plants like the ones that made up the walls and keep waited to attack any non-Kanaan. He thought he saw some of the trees swaying, though whether of their own volition or because something was moving through them, he coul
dn't tell.

Suddenly, the everyn began to keen, and the Bondfriends joined them, adult and child alike, in a one-note chorus that echoed throughout the mesas. Joshua clapped his hands over his ears, but the sound still reverberated in his head. He glanced at Terry and saw the healer wincin
g as well.

Then it was over; and just as if nothing had happened, everyone went back to what they were doing, though Joshua noticed that most of the children ran to edge of the
clearing.

“What was that all about?” He as
ked Ocapo.

“Come on. I'll show you. You'll find it very int
eresting.”

As they made their way to the far end of the camp, Ocapo explained. “A new pride has arrived, and they bring with them a child who has entered the Serenity. Remember what I'd told you happened to me before Spot found me? Her time has come. They are hoping an unbonded everyn here will choose to join her. What you heard was us alerting any everyn in
the area.”

They stopped behind the crowd of children who stood a respectful distance away yet stared with curiosity as some adults settled a young girl by the fire. A woman placed a cloak around her shoulders—her mother, Joshua guessed from the tender way she stroked her hair before sitting down next to her. The child didn't look older than eight, and a frail eight at that. Her mousy brown hair hung limply around a too-pale face, which combined with her deeply shadowed eyes, gave her an ethereal appearance. Her eyes glowed with otherworldly joy and her dry, cracked lips parted in an unearthly smile. She was beautiful, in a spooky sort of way, like an El Greco
painting.

“Is she all right?” Joshua whispered. “She looks like she ought to be lying down, preferably in the healer's den.” In fact, the healer had just knelt down in front of her and was hovering his hands over her head and neck. He was older than anyone Joshua had seen, and his hands trembled as if with palsy, but he still had a keen light in his eyes. Terry went to
join him.

“There is nothing they can do,” Ocapo whispered back. “She has entered the Serenity. But she has not eaten in days. If she does not find a Bondfriend soon, she will starve
to death.”

“She'll die of dehydration first,” Joshua muttered. She reminded him of paintings he'd seen of saints caught in ecstasy. If she had been human, he would not have been surprised to see the stigmata, the wounds of Christ, manifesting on her hands and feet. “On Earth, we'd put her on fluids with an IV. Anyone tried to force
feed her?”

“She won't swallow. They have been traveling for many weeks. If a Bondfriend is not found here, she will die.” Ocapo regarded Joshua shrewdly. “Is there anything in your talents that can
help her?”