Hannova frowned. “What’s that, Drigg?”
“Free Will’s people. The ones who chased us here, the ones who shot the boy. We saw them carry the quadrider. Maybe they meant to take it back to their headquarters, wherever that is, and try to turn it into something useful — I don’t know. But we startled a group of ’em, and they left it behind. That’s how the quadrider came to be there. Simple as that.”
“Why didn’t you say so before?” Mr. Parvel asked, looking more than a little embarrassed.
“Didn’t seem important,” Drigg muttered. “Not when we’ve got real problems to deal with.”
“Drigg’s right,” Hannova said. “There are some very disturbing rumors floating around, and I want to know if there’s any truth to them. Solovar has the best connections with the city, so I’ll let him fill you all in.”
Solovar was the white-bearded leader of the city dwellers; he had tried to rebel against Elder Naseph. Now that Naseph was out of the way, Solovar could move freely throughout the city and make good use of his networks of former spies.
Solovar cleared his throat and spoke in his gravelly voice. “Things in the city are getting worse. People are still hoping to find a way to get psi back. They’re getting desperate. The thought of rebuilding the things that keep society running — the power plant, the quadriders, the elevators, the doors, the locks, the plumbing — that’s overwhelming. Getting psi back seems like a better option to them.”
“But that’s not possible,” Taemon said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
Solovar leaned forward in his chair. “Yes, but they won’t accept that. And here’s the trouble: there are people in the city who claim to have a plan to return psionic powers to the people. They’re asking for donations, making promises, and showing their progress by giving street demonstrations, which are nothing more than tricks.”
Taemon looked down at his hands. That was the kind of thing he used to do back when he had to pretend to have psi. Lies, deception, trickery. “Those tricks won’t fool people for long,” Taemon said. “I wouldn’t worry too much about the charlatans.”
“You have to understand,” Solovar said. “People are scared. There are all kinds of wild tales spreading.”
“Like what?” Drigg asked.
“Like innocents still alive and trapped in secret underground chambers at the temple. Like people crossing Mount Deliverance to make contact with the Republik. There’s even a story about a ghost haunting one of the churches.”
Drigg laughed, which made Solovar’s scowl even deeper. “It may sound like rubbish to you and me. But there are people out there who are so desperate, they’ll believe anything.”
“What if they’re right?” Taemon whispered.
Solovar looked confused. “You really think there’s a ghost in the —?”
“Of course not. But the rumor about people crossing the mountain. My mam said something about that, too. She said that Da was in the Republik and that I should go find him.”
“Your mam wasn’t in her right mind,” Hannova said gently. “Amma told us how she was when you found her. She was probably just repeating some nonsense she’d overheard.”
“Besides,” Solovar added, “no one can cross those mountains. It’s impossible.”
Amma’s father cleared his throat. “Actually, that’s not quite true.”
All eyes turned to him. “What are you saying, Birch?” Hannova asked.
“There were documents in the library. I can’t be sure, mind you. They were very old and cryptic. But the way I interpret them, I think . . .”
Hannova slapped both hands on her desk. “For Skies’ sake! Out with it!”
“I think there’s a way to cross Mount Deliverance.”
“A way over Mount Deliverance?” Hannova said. “Are you sure?”
“No. In fact, I’m very unsure,” Mr. Parvel said. “But there was a map in the library that makes me think there is a way. Or was at one time. But I never studied the map closely. My grandfather gave me strict instructions to keep it secret, and I thought the less I knew about it, the better.”
Hannova drummed her fingers on her desk, looking like she was thinking a million things at once. “You might have mentioned this when Elder Naseph took everything from the library. If the Republik has that map . . .”
Mr. Parvel stiffened defensively. “I didn’t see any reason to bring it up until now. For all we know, everything from the library is buried under the rubble of the temple. Even if all the documents survived, it would take someone months to go through everything.”
“So it is possible,” Taemon said, his pulse quickening.
“Not without the map,” Mr. Parvel added quickly. “Assuming it was even accurate.”
“And even if we had the map,” Hannova broke in, holding Taemon’s gaze, “we couldn’t allow a thirteen-year-old boy to attempt to cross the mountains and enter enemy territory.”
“But no one would suspect a kid,” Taemon said. Especially a kid with psi, he thought but couldn’t very well say. “Besides, it’s my da. If anyone should risk the trip, it should be me.”
Arguing broke out among the adults. While Hannova could see the value in knowing more about the Republik, she didn’t think it was safe for anyone — and certainly not Taemon — to attempt the trip alone. Drigg volunteered to go, but Solovar pointed out that the work of converting another hauler was more important than some “fool’s errand.”
Mr. Parvel spoke up. “Just because crossing the mountain might be possible doesn’t mean it’s a good idea. This late into autumn, there could be snowfall on the mountains soon. Anyone caught in a storm at this time of year would surely die.”
But Taemon didn’t much care what anyone else thought. If there was a way over Mount Deliverance, he was going to find it. His father needed him. And Mam would need Da when she woke up.
Taemon stood up. “I think I’m going to go back to my room now. Get some rest.”
Hannova nodded. “We shouldn’t have kept you so long. We can talk again in the morning.”
Taemon headed for the door. He wasn’t about to go take a nap. Not when he needed to prepare for his trip to the Republik.
He nearly ran into Amma, who was standing outside the door, just out of the line of sight. She followed him back to his room.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not just here to check in on me?” he asked eventually, suspicious of her silence.
“I’m going, too,” she blurted. “I can help.”
“Going where?”
“To the Republik!” She looked around, then lowered her voice: “To the Republik. You can’t go alone — and don’t even try to tell me that you’re not planning on going. I know you too well, Taemon Houser.”
“You heard all of that?” he whispered. “What we were saying in Hannova’s office?”
“I couldn’t help it,” Amma said. “They were plenty loud. Urland asked me to find you and send you back to bed. But I can tell that’s not going to happen.”
Part of him wanted Amma to come with him. But it was the selfish part of him. The last time she’d gone with him, she could have easily been killed along with Moke.
Moke. Taemon didn’t dare let his mind linger too long on that sadness. He didn’t think he could bear having another friend’s death on his conscience.
“It’s going to be hard to cross the mountains this time of year,” he said. “We could get lost. We could freeze or starve or worse. And once we get to the Republik, there’s no telling what we’ll be up against. You should stay. There’s plenty you can do here to help. You could even watch over Mam, be there to explain everything to her when she wakes up.”
“Challis will do that,” Amma said. “It would mean a lot more to your mam than some strange girl trying to tell her what’s happened to her son and her husband.
“Besides,” Amma continued, “if you want to cross the mountain, you need me.”
Taemon frowned. “What do you mean?” He
looked around and whispered, “I’m the one with psi. What can you —?”
“I’ve seen the map, Taemon. I know the way.”
Taemon froze. “You have? I thought it was top secret. Not even your da looked at it!”
Amma looked guilty. “I wasn’t supposed to look at it, either. My da had told my oldest brother and me about it, how important it was, how secret it was. I was pretty young at the time — too young to understand why anything in the library should be kept a secret from us. Our whole lives were supposed to be devoted to guarding the library and all its secrets. Why would we ever tell anyone about anything we saw, including some dumb map? So one night I snuck into the library, found the map, and memorized it. I’m not proud of it, but right now it makes me pretty valuable to you, I’d say.”
Taemon shook his head. “Your father will have a fit if you come with me.”
“I don’t plan on seeking his permission,” Amma said with a determined air.
Taemon knew when he’d been beaten. “Fine. But you can’t tell anyone.”
“Of course not.”
“Gather what supplies you can tomorrow. We’ll set out at dawn two days from now.”
That night, Taemon was back in his old room next to Drigg’s workshop, having promised Urland that he would take it easy. It was late, but as much as he tried to sleep, tried to let the thrumming of the cicadas clear his mind, it wasn’t working. His problems seemed suffocating. He got up and went into the workshop. Drigg, who was asleep upstairs, had laid out parts of an engine he was working on. Taemon looked over the parts; he didn’t need clairvoyance to see how they would all come together in one harmonious machine. Why couldn’t life be like that? Nothing ever seemed to fit together or work the way it was supposed to.
The sound of the front door opening startled him. Challis came in and sat down on the bench.
“Saw the light on in here, and I thought we should talk. I have something for you.” She placed a scarf in his hands. It was blue and green and yellow, with some orange and brown and a strand of silver that meandered throughout. When he held it up, he thought he saw an image of some sort, but as soon as he tried to make sense of it, it vanished into randomness. Challis’s scarves had always been fairly . . . unusual.
“I made it months ago,” Challis said. “Before the Fall. Never got around to giving it to you.”
He wondered why she felt the need to give it to him now. If this were the pre-Fall days, he would wonder if she knew about his plans. But the timing had to be coincidental — if odd.
“Thanks. I don’t have a scarf.”
“Amma will like it,” Challis said.
That sounded like the old Auntie Challis, the one who knew things before they happened. Taemon peered at her. “Did you see that? Do you know anything about what’s going to happen next?”
Challis waved her hand dismissively. “Skies, no. I don’t need precognition to know that Amma likes bright colors.”
He looked at his aunt, wondering if she was being truthful with him. But then he was hardly being truthful with her.
She nodded at the scarf. “I didn’t just come by to give you that. I want to know more about you getting your psi back.”
So there was an ulterior motive to Challis’s visit. Taemon played with the ends of the scarf as he talked. “I didn’t have it when I was in the colony,” he said, needing to clarify that point. “And I didn’t have it when we got caught and then escaped from the prison. When Moke —” He wasn’t ready to talk about Moke. If only he’d had psi when Moke had been injured! He could have fixed him — he could have saved him — instead of watching him die.
He cleared his throat. “But when Yens captured Amma and me, I spoke to the Heart of the Earth and asked her to return my psi to me. It was the only way to save Amma. Yens was going to kill her.” He looked straight at Challis. “And he was going to kill me, too. I knew that if I had psi, I could stop him.”
Challis nodded, and he knew she didn’t judge him for his actions — or for where those actions had led.
“And then you asked the Heart of the Earth to do away with everyone’s psi but your own?” she said.
“No!” Taemon protested. “I mean, I did ask her to get rid of psi, but for everyone. Me included. I just didn’t realize that when I asked her to give me my psi back, it would be forever.”
“And you just now figured out that you still have psi?” Challis said. Was there a hint of doubt in her voice? “It’s been months since that day.”
“I never tried to use it. Not till we were in real trouble, surrounded by those archers. Even then I didn’t expect it to actually work.”
Challis replied with a hmph.
Taemon blushed, as though he’d been caught in a lie. “I don’t intend to use psi very much,” Taemon said. “Only when I absolutely have to, like to get away from Free Will’s men or stop the pain in my shoulder so I could drive back to the colony.”
“Which brings me to my next question.” She frowned and poked his left shoulder. “What’s going on with this?”
It should have hurt, the way she jabbed him like that. But if he hadn’t seen her do it, he wouldn’t even have known she’d touched him.
“I don’t know. I guess it just needs time to heal.”
Challis gave him a worried look. “I heard Urland discussing your shoulder with the other healers. They were talking about the signs of a psi wound.”
“A psi wound? What’s that?” He hoped he didn’t sound as guilty as he felt.
“Psi is tricky to begin with,” Challis explained, “and using it on yourself becomes even more complicated. There are so many things at work when you use psi: authority, knowledge, energy, intent. And the interplay of emotions and psi is especially complicated. If you use psi at a time when you are experiencing strong emotions, your psi can become bonded with the object you are influencing. For example, when psiball players have a strong desire to win, that desire can meld with the psi they’re directing at the ball, making it more accurate so that they score more goals. And if your mam is feeling especially kindly toward you when she’s cooking your favorite meal, that love works its way into the food.
“But if you’re experiencing strong negative emotions — like fear or pain or hatred — and if the object you’re acting on is your own body, then your psi works against your body, damaging it or attacking it.”
“You’re saying my psi is now attacking my shoulder, even though I used it to heal myself? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“There are many things about psi that you don’t understand — that no one does. That’s why it’s so dangerous — and foolish — to use psi on yourself,” she added pointedly.
“I told the healers that the psi aspect of your wound could be a holdover from your accident in the sea cave, before you came to the colony,” she continued, “but I’m not sure they believed me. And if Free Will’s men start talking about a boy who drove a quadrider, then it won’t be long before suspicions turn to you. I think it might be a good idea for you to lie low for a while. Maybe stay with Bynon on the farm until things die down.”
Skies, he hadn’t thought about Free Will’s men telling stories. With rumors of the return of psi already circulating in the city, talk like that could add fuel to the fire.
“You’re very talented,” Challis said. “You can do incredible things with psi, but you have to be careful. You may not always understand the consequences of your actions.”
“I don’t even want to use psi at all,” Taemon said. “It seems unfair, like I’m cheating by having it.”
“You’re the True Son,” Challis said. “Without psi, you can’t do what you need to do.”
“Haven’t I already done it?” Taemon whispered. Stopping Naseph and Yens. Getting rid of psi. Hadn’t that fulfilled his obligation as True Son?
Challis gave him a solemn look. “Not even close.”
The next morning, Taemon got up before dawn, even though he’d gotten only a few hour
s’ sleep. He intended to be on his way before the sun came up, one day earlier than what he’d told Amma. He hated lying, but he hated the thought of putting her in danger even more.
The night before, he’d collected a week’s worth of food. Assuming he could find the path over the mountain without too much difficulty, that should be plenty. And he could always supplement with berries, roots, and small game if it came to that.
He’d needed a few other supplies, too, and he figured that the workshop would be a good place to scavenge a few useful items.
But Drigg had beaten Taemon to it. He was already there, rummaging through drawers, pulling out tools. A knife. A flashlight. A tinderbox. Drigg paused and stared at Taemon for a moment, then busied himself with coiling a rope.
“Saw all the food you had piled in your room. Figured you’d be leaving today,” Drigg said gruffly. “Won’t pretend I like this idea. I hate it. But I can see you’re fixed on it.”
“I am,” Taemon said. “I have to find my da.”
Drigg scowled, wrapped the end of the rope around the coil, and tied it with a vengeance. “It just doesn’t sit right with me, a lad crossing the mountains on his own. I know I’m not your da, but you’re my apprentice, and that carries some responsibility. I wish this could wait until spring. I could go with you then.”
“You’re needed here,” Taemon said. “Like Solovar said, we need another hauler more than we need to rescue my da.”
Drigg frowned. “You know he didn’t mean it like that. It’s just there’s no guarantee your da’s even in the Republik. And how under the blazing sun are you going to find the way over them mountains? Have you thought about that?”
“I’ll have to use psi,” Taemon said.
“Psi,” Drigg scoffed. “Psi don’t tell you where the gap in the mountains is. If there is one. Psi don’t fill your belly. And psi don’t keep you warm and dry when a blizzard shows up.”
Actually, psi could do all of that — or at least Taemon’s psi could. Psi could help him trap small animals for food, and it could tell him where the gap was. And if it started to snow, psi could help him build a fire and erect a shelter. But Drigg didn’t know about Taemon’s clairvoyance, about how Taemon could send his mind outside himself to explore the world. Even for a psi wielder, this was a peculiar ability. But now was not the time to go into all that. Besides, Drigg had been powerless his whole life; he was always going to be suspicious of psi.
Archon Page 4