Unity: The Todor Trilogy, Book Three

by Jenna Newell Hiott

  “Is Gemynd well?” Golath asked, and Soman wondered if he had read his thoughts. “How does he fare since my death?”

  Soman was unsure how to answer the question. If Golath didn’t already know about Molly, Soman certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell him. “He grieves,” Soman replied simply.

  “Be his friend through the pain,” Keeper Clary said. “That’s all the boy needs.”

  The sound of a waterfall caught Soman’s attention and he turned towards it, only then realizing that he was now following behind one of the cabali creatures.

  “This way,” the cabalus hissed, brown strings of spittle flying from its mouth.

  “Stay away from me,” Soman said, meaning to step back from the creature. Instead, he found himself following it through a shadowy valley. On either side of him were cliffs of black rock and the path between them stretched on indefinitely. “Where is Numa?”

  The cabalus moved awkwardly in front of Soman. It was bent forward and used its arms as front legs while it walked. The creature looked back over its crooked shoulder at Soman. “Numa is here,” it said and scraped its long, pointed fingers down the side of the cliff, forming a deep hole in the rock.

  Soman peered into the hole and saw light deep within it. He glanced skeptically at the cabalus. “What will happen to me if I enter here?”

  “You will find Numa.” The cabalus spread its hands and opened its red eyes wide, looking as innocent as such a creature could possibly look.

  Soman looked into the hole again. “Is there danger in there?”

  The cabalus shook its head and bared thousands of sharpened spike-teeth. It’s red eyes shone a little brighter and Soman realized that the creature was smiling.

  Soman stepped into the light and the smell of fairy tooth filled his nose before his eyes even had time to adjust. “Aerie,” he said and smiled.

  He heard the waterfall splashing into the lake, the stones of the oilpress grinding together, and the laughter of children at discipleship. Although he had not been in Skalja long, he knew enough to recognize that what he was seeing was not reality. This Aerie was a scrap of somebody’s memory; something no longer perceived. Although this Aerie was full of color unlike his encounter with Golath and Keeper Clary had been.

  Soman turned around to go back through the hole in the rock wall only to find that the hole had vanished. “Scitte,” he said, tapping at the wall, hoping to reopen it. “That foul creature tricked me.”

  “Has your life become so dull that you’ve taken up conversing with rock walls?” Gemynd’s unmistakable voice came from behind.

  Soman spun around. A wave of pure Joy passed through him as he gazed upon his oldest friend. “Brother,” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “I had never dared to hope I would see you in Aerie once again. And your face is unscarred. I haven’t seen such Joy in your eyes since we were children.”

  “Are you well, Brother?” Gemynd asked, patting Soman on the shoulder. “You sound like a madman.”

  “I am well,” Soman answered. He knew this apparition of Gemynd had no knowledge of all that had transpired. This Gemynd would not know of glinting, nor the destruction of Aerie, nor even that Soman had been ill. But Soman didn’t care. He would talk to his brother as if he knew it all. “I have found my purpose and will never fall ill again.”

  Gemynd pursed his lips, but did not seem surprised by Soman’s words. “One of your purposes tried to set fire to the Wishing Hut this morning,” he said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your eldest, I believe” Gemynd answered. “But both of them were there. Of course it wasn’t intentional. He was only curious about the general effects of fire. Given his sense of curiosity, I sometimes wonder if the boy isn’t really mine.”

  Gemynd laughed at his own jest but Soman was too distracted by his words to join in. “My eldest?” he asked and looked out across Aerie, wondering if this was, indeed, a memory or was it something else?

  “We have found seven different types of flowers, Keeper Gemynd!” two young girls came skipping over with a basket full of colorful blooms.

  “Keeper Gemynd?” Soman asked, only then noticing that Gemynd wore a plain, grey robe. “You’re a Keeper?”

  Gemynd narrowed his eyes at Soman. “Let’s get you something to eat, brother. You’re looking a bit pale.”

  Soman continued to stare at Gemynd. “You look good in a Keeper’s robe,” he said. “It really suits you.”

  Gemynd turned to the girls. “You have done well today, children. Now, go surprise your mother with these beautiful flowers and I will see you both at discipleship tomorrow.”

  The girls skipped away, singing a song about fairytooth.

  “Shall I call for the healers?” Gemynd asked, raising his brows.

  “I assure you I am well, brother,” Soman answered. “Just a bit confused. And, yes, a little hungry too.”

  “Then let us go to the Eating House at once.”

  Soman walked next to his friend and listened to him talk of his daily life as a Keeper. “You are truly happy in this life,” he said, wondering if they had all made different choices would Gemynd have such a life of peace now.

  “It is my life’s work to practice Joy and teach that to others,” Gemynd answered. “Of course I am truly happy.”

  “What about Numa?” Soman asked. This version of Gemynd did not appear to have any underlying loneliness, but the Gemynd he knew had loved Numa his whole life.

  Gemynd smiled. Broadly and genuinely. “I believe she is happy too,” he said and held back the doorskin to the Eating House.

  Soman inhaled deeply as he stepped into the room. He had never found another place in all of Todor that smelled quite like the Eating House in Aerie. Hot food, smoky fires, and warm bodies filled the room with a scent that could not be duplicated. He walked to the nearest empty table and sat down. Gemynd sat on the bench across from him.

  “It fills me with Joy to know that you are happy, brother,” Soman said, feeling more relaxed, more at home in this Aerie. “But you are far too handsome to be a good Keeper. Surely you have not made all your vows.”

  Gemynd chuckled. “I am afraid that the Deis wasted beauty on me,” he replied. “For no woman shall ever have the pleasure of knowing it.”

  “Tis a shame indeed,” Soman said, grabbing two cups of ale from a tray as a server passed by and handing one to Gemynd.

  “We have talked of my life as though this is your first encounter with me,” Gemynd said, taking one of the cups from Soman. “But what of your life, brother? Is it one of Joy?”

  Soman looked into his cup. The wood on the lip of it had become as smooth and shiny as stone after being polished by years of contact with human lips. “I know more moments of Joy than moments without. Like everyone, I suppose,” Soman said.

  “That is not really an answer.”

  “I have recently discovered my true purpose and when I am serving my purpose, I live in Joy.”

  “You mentioned your purpose a moment ago,” Gemynd said, appearing to contemplate a large knot in the wooden tabletop. “The ninth Truth tells us that to interfere with another’s purpose is to make a choice that disrupts the Oneness of Life. Personally, I believe it is just as important--if not more so--to not interfere with one’s own purpose.”

  Soman smiled. He rather liked receiving a lesson on the Truths from this version of Gemynd. “I agree.”

  “And the only way one can truly interfere with his own purpose,” Gemynd continued, and Soman could see that his mind was buzzing with life, eager to share his ideas, just like when they were children. “Is if he chooses inauthenticity. If one is living his Truth, he is living his purpose.”

  Soman thought about his conversation with Radine before the wind began. She had said that Soman’s purpose was to serve that which he loved most. “My T
ruth is that I love Numa above all else,” he said and felt an enormous weight lift from his shoulders. He hadn’t realized how badly he’d wanted to confess that to Gemynd.

  Gemynd nodded without the slightest hint of shock or resentment. “And I would wager that she loves you a close second after your sons.”

  “Our sons?” Soman asked, noting this was the second time Gemynd had mentioned the boys.

  “Yes, your sons.” Gemynd looked at Soman as though he were trying to decide if Soman were daft or mad.

  “Numa had my children?” Soman asked again, trying to put the pieces into place.

  “Like I said earlier, the older one certainly does have a lot more in common with me.” Gemynd laughed then pointed across the room with a piece of bread. “See for yourself. He’s even got my good looks.”

  Soman spun around on the bench and saw Numa walking towards them, holding hands with two young, strapping boys. They both had yellow hair, blue eyes and more muscles than most boys that age. “Those are mine,” he said, beaming with pride. He could no longer make sense of what memory this version of Aerie might be, but Soman realized he loved it with all his heart.

  “Joyous day, Keeper Gemynd,” Numa said as she approached the table, then she leaned over and kissed Soman on the top of the head. “Are you aware of what your sons did this morning?”

  Soman looked at the older boy and smiled. How was it possible to love someone you’d only just met? Yet Soman’s heart was suddenly filled to bursting with love for these two boys. “You must be careful with fire,” he admonished the boy gently.

  “Yes, father,” the boy said and Soman found himself scooping up both of the boys and squeezing them against his chest. Only then did he realize he was able to touch the people in this part of Skalja. Whatever he was experiencing was completely different from the essences of Golath and Keeper Clary he’d seen earlier.

  “They are to clean every book at the Wishing Hut for penance,” Numa said.

  “Fine idea,” Gemynd said, standing up. “I am going there now. Come, boys, I will show you how to get it done quickly.”

  Soman watched his sons scamper away behind Gemynd, both giggling and talking excitedly. “They love Gemynd,” he said to Numa.

  “He is their favorite Keeper,” she answered and looked down at the empty tray of food on the table. “Have you finished your meal?”

  Soman stared at Numa’s beautiful face. “Are you my wife?” he asked. He suspected as much, considering they had children together, but he wanted to hear her say the words.

  “Yes, my husband, I am your wife,” she said, giving him a dazzling smile. “Don’t tell me you have already forgotten that fact.”

  “I will never forget it.”

  “Are you expected at the oil press?” she asked, an eagerness in her eyes.

  “Not that I am aware of,” Soman answered honestly.

  “Then let us go to our sleeping house. It could use some tidying up.”

  Soman walked with Numa through the village, holding her hand the entire way. He was aware of having passed the Baldaquin tree, the meeting house and the lake, but he saw none of them. He could not take his eyes off of Numa.

  They arrived at one of the domed mud dwellings and Numa ducked in through the doorskin. Soman followed eagerly behind, imagining what would happen next. Would Numa serve him tea and fill his ears and heart with words of love? Would they laugh over stories of their boys’ adventures together?

  Numa turned to face Soman as he entered the room. “The boys will be occupied for a few hours,” she said, her green eyes darkening as she pulled her kirtle over head.

  In an instant, Soman recognized this version of Aerie. It had come from his own mind; a wonderful fantasy he had returned to again and again over the years. As he looked into Numa’s eyes, he could vividly recall every detail of what would happen next if he took a single step towards her. “I would stay here forever,” he said. “The Skalja would add me to their collection.”

  “If you stayed here forever, you would know only Joy and Love for eternity,” Numa said.

  Soman’s body responded to Numa’s nakedness with a deep urgency. He knew how delicious the encounter would be. Every part of him yearned to touch her. “You love Gemynd and he loves you. You are his wife,” Soman said, trying to quiet the voice in his mind that told him it would hurt nothing to give in just this one time.

  Numa took a step towards Soman and he watched his own treacherous hand reach for her. “Come to me, my husband.” Numa’s lips spread into a seductive smile. “Touch me, my love.”

  Soman took a deep breath and stepped backwards, one foot out of the sleeping house. “I gave you my vow,” he said, his jaw rigid. “My purpose is to serve you and that means helping you create the Todor of your vision. If I lay with you now, it will be the end of me.”

  Soman didn’t wait to hear Numa’s reply and jogged towards the Wishing Hut. He wanted one more look at the children he would never have before he found his way back through the rock wall to Skalja.

  He entered the Wishing Hut and saw a group of Keepers and two boys huddled around a big pile of books on the floor. “This one was always my favorite,” an all-too familiar voice said then laughed heartily.

  “Keeper Stout,” Soman said as a wave of nostalgia crashed through him. “I have missed you.”

  “Soman, my boy, we were just showing your sons which of these old books we like best.”

  “Yes, and this is why the task of cleaning them will never be completed,” Gemynd grumbled from across the pile.

  “Here is my favorite! I’ve read it a dozen times,” Keeper Sam said, suddenly emerging from the pile.

  “Sam?” Soman asked, confused. He had not yet met Sam when he’d had this fantasy.

  “Soman?” Sam asked, looking equally confused.

  “This memory is from a time before I knew you,” Soman said, taking a chance.

  “I thought it was my memory of my life as a Keeper.”

  “But Gemynd wasn’t a Keeper with you.”

  Sam glanced at Gemynd. “He wasn’t there until you walked in.”

  “So, you are the real Sam, then?” Soman was utterly confused, but hopeful. If this was the Sam from beyond Skalja, he could help them find their way back to Numa.

  Sam pressed his lips together, growing thoughtful for several moments. Then he raised his finger in the air. “Have you ever heard of the Skalja?” he asked.

  “Yes!” Soman answered, feeling excited.

  “Have any of the rest of you?” Sam asked the others in the room.

  Everyone else shook their head in reply.

  “We have to get back to Numa,” Soman said, hoping Sam would know how.

  “Of course.” Sam looked around the Wishing Hut, then at the book in his hand. His eyes filled with sadness.

  “It is good that you got to see it all one more time,” Soman said, understanding his friend’s mixed feelings.

  Sam sighed. “I don’t know that it was worth having to grieve for it all again.”

  Soman looked at his sons who seemed to be making more of a mess than cleaning anything. “Boys, come here,” he said, crouching down. He pulled them into his arms again, amazed at the intensity of feelings he could have for something that never really existed. “I love you both.”

  The boys mumbled their declarations of love in return then ran back to play in the pile of old books.

  “Let’s go before we change our minds,” Sam said, pulling on Soman.

  “Do you know the way back?”

  Sam shrugged. “No idea,” he said. “But I came in through the rock wall.”

  “As did I.”

  “Then let’s begin there.”

  Soman picked Sam up with his right arm and ran to the rock wall. He knew Sam hated to be carried, but Soman was filled with a need to hurry
, as though they only had a small amount of time to get out of that Aerie before it claimed them forever.

  “There’s an opening!” Sam pointed at the rock wall in front of them and Soman ran full speed towards it. He dove through it and crashed into the cliff on the opposite side of the valley.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked Sam, looking his friend over for injury.

  “No,” Sam said, dusting off his robe. “I’m thankful you found me or I would have spent eternity in that Aerie.”

  Soman nodded. His heart ached for all that he’d just given up. “Let’s find Numa,” he said, wanting to change the subject. “Which way should we go?”

  Sam looked one way up the valley, then the other. “It looks the same both ways,” he said. “I suppose it’s best if we just start walking.”

  Soman walked quietly by Sam’s side, trying to focus more on the task of finding Numa and the others, than mourning a life he’d never really known.

  As he walked, Soman noticed an opening in the opposite rock wall. He looked through it, but did not dare enter. He immediately recognized the white, polished stone of Zoban. He heard Archigadh’s thunderous laughter before he saw him. But then suddenly there he was, lounging in the middle of the grand square, surrounded by his women. All of Archigadh’s wives were there, including Maireen, Soman’s mother.

  This was Zoban as Soman had first seen it. As glorious as a place could be. Soman smiled as he watched Archigadh playfully paw at his wives and indulge in every delectable treat known to man. The Chief was home once again.

  “Serving Zoban is your purpose,” Soman said, though he knew Archigadh could not hear him. Soman’s heart felt heavy as he realized that there was not really a Zoban in Numa’s Todor. There was no place for Chief Archigadh there. He would choose to stay in Skalja.

  Archigadh looked over his shoulder in Soman’s direction. Soman felt quite sure that Archigadh could not see him, but those green eyes seemed to look right into his. Soman swallowed back a wave of emotion. He knew that this would be the last time he would ever see Archigadh, Chief of the Ancestor Clan of the great and powerful Zobanites.