Before Sam could move, the sheet of metal between them simply evaporated. Having had his eye pressed up against it, Gemynd fell face first onto the dirt floor of the tunnel. Sam, on the other hand, fell backwards and did a full roll over Gemynd, landing behind him.
“You, you started the wind,” Gemynd heard his mother stammer and he looked up to see the Great Carus approaching them.
He remembered clearly the day he had first seen the carus with her young in the mantle grove. It was the same day he had surrendered to his love for Numa.
“I am Radine, the speaker for the Deis in Todor,” the carus said.
Gemynd scrambled to his feet and bowed with respect before considering what his mother had said. The carus started the wind. The carus had done a great number of things. “You are the reason my glinting powers won’t work. And you are responsible for what I saw in the tunnel,” he surmised.
The carus’ golden eyes flashed at Gemynd as she walked up to him. “Gemynd of Aerie,” she said, her full voice startling the three of them. “Numa’s great love. She would turn the world upside down for you. She already has.”
Molly reached for Gemynd’s hand and he could feel she was trembling.
“I have never seen a creature, such as you, speak,” Sam said, his curiosity overpowering his fear.
Radine turned her piercing eyes on Sam. “Sam of Aerie, Keeper of Wisdom, and greatest of all Iturtians.”
“What?” A thousand expletives ran through Gemynd’s mind, followed by a million questions. His tongue became so confused by the sheer volume of thoughts that all he could do was snort.
“Not all Iturtians are the same, Gemynd,” Radine explained. “You and your father are quite alike, but the two of you are the exception more than the rule. Most Iturtians are brilliant perceivers and are happy to live in harmony with others. Iturtians, like Sam, understand the gift of their perception and that it is best used for Oneness. Sam uses the great power of his mind in service to a worthy leader. Whether he is aware of it or not, Sam has spent his life searching for such a leader and has finally found it in Numa. Despite any trials he has endured, he continually makes the choice to maintain Oneness. He does not choose to suffer. Now tell me, Gemynd of Aerie, why do you choose suffering?”
Gemynd looked at Sam, then at Molly. He was unable to look directly at the carus, intimidated by her great power. Still, she had asked him a question. “I believe you know why.” He forced himself to look her in the eye. “Was it coincidence that I was just shown the past moments before you appeared here? I believe you wanted me to see that. You wanted me to know the depth of my own wickedness.”
“That does not answer why you choose suffering. Do you know the answer to that?” The carus tilted her head to the side, her enormous horns scratching the tunnel wall.
“I was cursed from birth with a madness that leaves me doubting everything and everyone. There is no Oneness when every decision is based on fear.”
“Fear is not your reason for choosing suffering.”
Gemynd recalled his dream visitation with Golath. “My father told me that fear has always been my greatest enemy.”
“Golath’s Joy was veiled by ambition as yours is veiled by fear, but those were only the masks you wore. You and your father share the same reason for choosing suffering.”
“What is the reason?” Gemynd felt a growing frustration. Clearly the carus had something important to tell him, but seemed to want to play some sort of game instead.
“Do you remember the Truths as you were taught them?”
“Of course.”
“And what do you think of the third and fourth Truths?”
“Every life is an expression of the Deis; and all expressions of the Deis are sacred and equal.”
“Yes, you can recite them. Now what do you think of them?”
Gemynd was taken aback. There was a time when he would have had a ready answer for such a question, when his mind was filled with nothing but thoughts about the Truths. A time before his life in Iturtia pulled him in another direction. Did he still believe in the Truths at all? Did he even believe in the Deis?
Gemynd swept the toe of his boot over the dirt floor of the tunnel, making swirling patterns as he thought. All he had to do was think about Numa and he knew he still believed in the Deis. She had to have come from something magnificent, something beyond the mundane realm of Todor. “I can look at Numa or Soman or my mother, or even Archigadh or Sam, and believe that each of them is an expression of the Deis. Numa would believe that every life is sacred and equal.”
The carus smiled. “But you do not?”
Gemynd kept his gaze on his boot. As a youth growing up in Aerie, he had thought himself superior to most others. Under his father’s direction, he came to believe that Iturtians were the superior race and deserved to rule Todor. But the day of the flood, he saw firsthand the need for the races to work together. Their differences complemented one another. But if he was to say that he believed in the third and fourth Truths, he would have to include himself. Did he believe that he was an expression of the Deis? After all that he’d done, was he still sacred and equal to all others?
“How can I consider myself an expression of the Deis? The Deis breathe Joy and my heart is full of wickedness. I am the embodiment of the disruption of Oneness. And how could I ever consider myself equal in sacredness to Numa?”
“You see, you do not choose suffering out of fear, but because you cannot accept the Oneness of yourself. You already know this to be true. The madness you speak of is born from the split within you. You doubt others, because you first doubt yourself. You can end your suffering simply by accepting every part of yourself.”
“I don’t want to be One with the part of me that killed the Keepers of Aerie. I hate that part of myself!”
“You don’t need to.”
“You just said that if I am to choose Oneness, I cannot disregard my wickedness.”
“No, do not disregard anything. That would be most unwise. Rather, change your perception about it.”
“How would I go about doing that?”
“What of your past actions pains you most?”
Gemynd snorted. He felt ashamed of many things he had done. But there was one event that pained his heart most of all. “Destroying Aerie, but, again, I think you knew that.”
“What you do not see is how necessary you are,” she continued. “It is never easy to be the destroyer and, in all of Todor, throughout all of time, only you had the strength to take on the role. Rather than perceive your actions as wicked, understand that you simply did what you could to make the best of the situation.”
“What are you saying? That the destruction of Aerie was a good thing?”
“I would not presume to judge it good nor bad, but necessary. By destroying Aerie, you ended the separation of the races of Todor. You set the creation of Numa’s vision in motion.”
“But I did not choose to destroy Aerie because I knew it would lead to the end of separation.” Gemynd took a deep breath. “I did it because I was angry. I was enraged. I teetered on the edge of madness, fueled by mistrust and doubt. All it took was for me to overhear a conversation in which the Keepers planned to destroy my father and the madness burst out of me, destroying everything in its path. I did not destroy Aerie for noble reasons. It was as though I was nothing more than an overgrown, powerful child having a tantrum.”
“I can show another way to perceive all that you have done,” Radine said and a piece of highly polished silver suddenly appeared in Gemynd’s hands. “All you have to do is gaze into the reflection in the silver. You will be shown another way to perceive yourself, but only you can decide to choose that new perception as your own. If you do, you will be on your way to accepting yourself as you are, if you do not, you will remain divided within yourself.”
Gemynd looked into the piece
of metal. Just as he had moments before, he saw himself standing outside the Wishing Hut in Aerie. But there were differences in this version. He was taller and more handsome than before. His stance and the way he held his chin spoke of a man with great pride and inner power. A regal man.
Again, just as before, he watched himself overhear the keepers’ conversation. But this time he did not see a man lashing out in uncontrolled rage. This time he watched himself destroy Aerie in measured, calculated movements. Instead of seeing a look of anger upon his face, he saw determination there. A deep determination to protect his father and prevent future generations from living under the lies of the keepers. This Gemynd was driven not by vengeance, but by love. He ended Aerie to stop the keepers from both destroying Golath and deceiving the people.
At first, Gemynd resisted the images before him, but the longer he watched, the more it seemed possible. He did remember having the feeling of wanting to protect his father above all and he was passionate about ending the deceit of the keepers. Could there have been something honorable about his actions after all?
The images on the piece of silver shimmered and shifted until Gemynd saw the scene in Tolnick just moments after Golath’s death. Here, he saw in himself a grieving man who set aside his pain to do what he believed needed to be done.
Gemynd felt a swell of something in his chest as he recognized how this man had grown since he’d destroyed Aerie. This time he did not react with violence. Peace for all was at the forefront of his mind.
Next, the silver showed a series of images of Gemynd with his father, with Soman and with Numa. “I have been a good son, a good friend, and a good husband,” he said, for the first time realizing these things to be true.
“Then you choose your own Oneness at last,” Radine said.
“Perhaps.” Gemynd looked up from the piece of silver. “I do feel changed somehow, as though I might one day choose the images I just saw as my own perception.”
“And on that day, you will know true Joy.”
“I look forward to it.” Gemynd cleared his throat and blinked back the sudden sting in his eyes. “Now, might you help us by restoring our powers or sending us to the lost Iturtians.”
The carus nodded and for the space of a heartbeat, Gemynd found himself in a void of nothingness.
Then, a bright, white light stabbed into Gemynd’s eyes. He put his hand up to block it and let the images around him come slowly into focus. He was standing in a paved courtyard full of lush plants and golden fountains. Surrounding him on four sides was a grand arcade of polished, white stone.
“Zoban,” he said and instinctively wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his dagger.
“I am so Joyful to be back here. I loved this place almost as much as Aerie,” Molly said, sticking her fingers in one of the fountains.
Sam looked at Gemynd and they silently communicated a shared foreboding. Why did Radine send them to Zoban?
“Do your powers work now?” Sam asked.
Gemynd tried nudging Numa, then his mother, then Sam. He tried moving a bench he saw in the far corner of the courtyard. None of it worked. “I have not felt so powerless since I was a seven.”
Sam sighed. “I have an awful feeling in my belly that her reason for sending you here without your powers is nothing short of sinister. She seemed to enjoy the notion of destruction.”
Gemynd scanned every inch of the courtyard. “I have a similar feeling. But without my powers I won’t be the cause of the destruction. She may have sent me here to die. I must find Numa and be sure my people are safe. You know Archigadh well, Sam. Do you think he is capable of making Numa feel secure enough to bring the Iturtians here, only to turn on them?”
Sam seemed to shrug with his entire body. “I do not know him well enough to answer that. He is the leader of the Zobanites. If he felt his people were in danger, I imagine he is capable of anything.”
Gemynd pulled his dagger out of his belt and started to hand it to Sam, but then thought better of it. “Here, Mother,” he said, giving his beloved knife to Molly. “I trust you will know what to do with this if necessary. Stay here in this courtyard--both of you--until I return or until you hear from Numa.”
“Son, you cannot stroll around Zoban unarmed and without your powers,” Molly insisted, trying to give the dagger back. “We don’t know that any peace has been reached. These people have not forgotten that you killed their ancestor. You are in danger here.”
“As are the two of you if you are with me. No more arguing. You stay here and protect yourself.” Gemynd placed a tender kiss on his mother’s head. “I will be careful, Mother, I promise.”
“I love you, my son.”
“I love you, too.”
Gemynd found an opening in one of the arcaded walls and stepped through it without looking back. The truth was, he didn’t know that he would ever see his mother again. He was, after all, right in the middle of enemy territory without his powers nor even his dagger. But if he had any hope of ensuring that his people were safe, he would have to find Numa.
Gemynd craned his neck in every direction and listened for any nearby footsteps. When he was certain he was alone, he crept up the gravel walkway, grimacing all the way. Every foot fall made a crunch that seemed to echo through the city. He tiptoed along until the path wrapped around the side of an enormous white stone wall. Gemynd pressed himself against the wall and listened again.
He heard shouting from far away and the crashing of metal hitting metal. Gemynd held his breath as he recognized the familiar hum of chaos. He was unarmed and unprotected, but if his people were fighting a battle, Gemynd knew he had to be with them. So he exhaled slowly, then looked around the corner of the wall.
The sight that met his eyes was utter mayhem. Bloodied, mangled bodies littered the ground and next to them were empty, hacked-up pieces of Zobanite armor. In the midst of the carnage, a battle raged. Armored Zobanties attacked one another and un-armored Zobanites attacked a smaller group of people. Gemynd’s people.
Gemynd reached for his dagger, but paused when he realized it wasn’t there. Just as he did, he spotted Numa across the field. She seemed to be directing the armored Zobanites, pushing them towards the Iturtians and away from harming the unarmored Zobanites.
He tried furiously to nudge her mind, but still had no powers. Gemynd would have to protect his people without them.
“Iturtians!” Gemynd shouted and rushed out on the field. He grabbed a Zobanite shortknife that lay on the ground as he ran by, noting that it was many times larger than any Iturtian blade. It was heavy and took all his strength to lift it over his head as he ran.
“Director! You’re here!” a familiar voice called and Gemynd turned to see Ileethios standing at the point of a formation of Iturtians.
Gemynd slashed at an armored Zobanite and the shortknife passed through the soldier with little resistance. For a moment, he marveled at the superior cutting skills of the Zobanite blade, but quickly realized the suit of armor was empty. There was no Zobanite inside.
“You are controlling the armor?” he shouted to Ileethios behind him.
“Ingenious, isn’t it?” Ileethios replied.
Ileethios. Wasn’t he with the lost Iturtians? Gemynd glanced quickly over his shoulder scanning the faces of the Iturtians behind him. They were all the lost Iturtians. He looked down at the faces of the dead and they, too, had been part of the lost Iturtians.
“I told you to wait for me in the tunnels!” Gemynd shouted at Ileethios.
“You also told me to remember what it means to be Iturtian.” Determination burning in his eyes. “Well, Director, I remembered.”
Gemynd looked out at the battle waging before him. “You started this,” he said, already knowing the truth. Anger burned inside him.”You fool! You caused the deaths of my people!”
Gemynd spun around, ready to behead Ileethi
os himself, when a great shadow darkened the sky above him. He looked up and saw Soman, not in flight, but in mid-jump, long knives at the ready in both of his hands. Soman landed at the rear of the formation of Iturtians and effortlessly sliced into their bodies, rendering them nothing more than pieces of meat.
Gemynd no longer saw his friend, his brother, but an enemy killing his people. He rushed at Soman powered by a need to protect those under his care. An unarmored Zobanite soldier stepped in front of Gemynd, shortknife positioned to pierce Gemynd’s belly. Gemynd quickly mapped out his options in his mind and used the soldier’s outstretched hand like a step, bringing himself high enough that a single slash of his shortknife took the Zobanite’s head clean off.
Gemynd kept running towards Soman, using his mind to keep himself alive. Despite his great disadvantage, he killed one Zobanite after another and had not yet suffered so much as a scratch. Somewhere in the back of Gemynd’s mind, he became aware of Numa’s screams for him to stop. But if he stopped now, he and all the remaining lost Iturtians, would be killed. His only choice was to keep going.
Gemynd saw Soman loom ever closer. He was almost there. He scanned the vicinity, quickly noting what he could use to his advantage. A pile of Zobanite armor had fallen atop an Iturtian body, making a perfect ramp for Gemynd to use. It would get his shortknife right at Soman’s neck, he was sure. He pushed himself, picking up as much speed as possible. He was two steps from the ramp and saw Soman leap into the air. Gemynd quickly adjusted his plan. He jumped off the ramp and put his feet out in front of him, knocking Soman right in the chest with his boots.
Gemynd had vastly underestimated Soman’s mass and bounced back without causing Soman so much as a wobble. He was not ready to give up, though, and tucked into a ball, rolling as he hit the ground. Now he was behind Soman and lunged at him again. Soman spun around and Gemynd realized he’d fall onto those longknives well before he’d reach Soman with the shortknife in his hand. Still, he had to try.
“Stop this!” a tiny woman jumped in front of Gemynd, waving her arms. “You will not kill each other!”
Unity: The Todor Trilogy, Book Three Page 12