Mind Over Psyche

by Karina L. Fabian

  Better let the everyn do it if it’s meant to be, he thought. Dying didn’t seem like such a fearful thing, after all. Still keeping his breathing in sync with hers, he leaned forward and grasped her hand. “Be patient a little longer, sweetheart. Heaven will always be there, but right now, I think you’re meant to stay with us awhile longer.”

  For just a moment, she focused on him, and smiled a more natural, childlike smile. Then the unfocused rapture returned.

  He sat back on his heels. “That’s the best I’m gonna do,” he said to Ocapo, then laughed as the girl’s parents threw their arms around him. “Tell them they’re welcome,” he said to his friend as he returned their hugs.

  The healer knelt down beside the girl, his trembling fingers moving over her face, turned to Joshua, then Ocapo, then Joshua again. This time, his eyes were wide and amazed.

  “He wanted you to do a cleansing,” Ocapo said, “and I told him human healers didn’t need to, and that at the keep, you’d healed dozens of injured Kanaan without break.”

  Joshua shook his head. “Tell him I didn’t do the healing. I was a conduit, more like glorified jumper cables or something.”

  Terry smirked at his analogy. “Perhaps so, but no healer could have done this.”

  Joshua felt himself blushing and just a little giddy. He snagged Ocapo by the arm. “Tell you what, though. I do have some excess energy I’d like to work off. What say we go find the dancing? We can teach each other some moves.”

  *

  Summer again. Too hot. Too bright. Anguish returned for Kanaan and Gardianju. For the Ydrel, too, and this time, his agonies insinuated themselves into her mind, so that sometimes she could not tell their realities apart.

  She sat in the middle of an open field under the blazing sun, yet couldn’t escape the feeling that she was trapped within padded walls and the light was wrongly bluish and cool upon her skin. She felt confined, bound, and her arms kept crossing themselves across her stomach. Things in her head skittered and bustled: whispers of thought, passing streaks of emotion, mists of attitude, and they crowded her as well. Her mind struggled to sort them out, and she reeled in confusion until:

  One feeling loomed over all else: Pressure.

  One thought shouted over the others: This is Wrong!

  One emotion overrode the rest: Anger.

  One target became her focus: The twin suns.

  You are not sisters! She snarled at the smaller of the two stars. Fury burned inside her more hotly than the heat that stripped her world of its moisture. You are an intruder! She saw it so clearly now: two suns—one villain, one hostage. Caught in a struggle of domination versus freedom. Kanaan caught in the middle. Kanaan being ripped apart in the battle. She being torn with it.

  No! Intruder! She stood, shaking, glaring at the suns. They seared her retinas. She didn’t care. They could take her vision, but they would not take her world. Leave us! She seethed. Go away!

  Hardly aware of what she was doing, she reached deep into her fury, deep into the heart of Kanaan, drawing all the power into herself. It filled her, coursed through her. She no longer saw, no longer felt, no longer heard. There was nothing now, not even her anger: just power and one single focus.

  Leave!

  She felt the power race from her like a beam, sharp, focused, violent. She felt it impact against the star, felt it knocked off its route. But it wasn’t enough.

  She reached out, found lines of power in the atmosphere, in life. Across her world, people and beasts fell unconscious where they stood, and flowers wilted as in a sudden freeze.

  LEAVE!

  She reached to the Ydrel, grabbed the power of his mind and pulled. She felt his strength move though her, until she no longer felt him, just power.

  GO! With an animal scream of fury, she threw her power at the star. She held the scream, held the power, held her fury, until she felt the star grudgingly release its ties to her sun and again move on its way.

  Then she collapsed among the dying flowers, blood streaming from her ears and nose, the power gone, her life spent, her mission complete.

  But as she let out her last breath, she saw the planet faint in the sky and knew she hadn’t completely succeeded. Too late. There would be others. And the Ydrel…Tasmae…

  Tasmae suddenly spasmed and it was all the healer and Leinad could do to steady her against the seizures. They were absorbed in holding her down when the earthquake hit.

  *

  Deryl was in the high intensity ward again. He didn’t remember why—so much had confused him then. Anger he couldn’t control burned through him—anger at the voices, at the staff, at the cold lights that nonetheless seared his eyes whether they were open or closed.

  He was standing in the padded room, screaming for everything to leave him alone, when he felt…something, someone…reach into his very soul and drain him. He collapsed into a catatonic state. Only when a lovesick nurse, Sachiko, was somewhat mischievously whispering the secret of her affair with the chief psychiatrist did he open his eyes and turn to her, nearly scaring her out of her wits. She screamed.

  Tasmae screamed as the shock of Gardianju’s dying shook her system. Deryl felt her convulse as her body fought against the compulsion to follow the first Miscria into death. Her abilities went wild; her control of Kanaan slipped; the world reflected her throes.

  Deryl reached out with his mind to steady her; to embrace her.

  The ground beneath him shook.

  *

  “Nothing personal,” Joshua apologized to the tree as he buttoned his pants. He’d been a little hesitant when Ocapo had pointed him down the path and essentially told him “Go down a hundred yards or so and pick a tree,” but so far, nothing had reached out to grab him.

  He did say I was safe as long as I stayed out of the clearings, Joshua reminded himself as he passed a spot where the trail branched off into one. The starlight reflected off a small pool of water to one side and frosted the grasses and leaves with silver. Under the willow-like trees grew the heavy moss that he knew felt softer than the most expensive carpet back home. It looked very inviting, and he wondered if that were part of the trap, and that once a weary Barin had settled himself to rest, the graceful, low branches would coil themselves around him.

  Joshua heard a loud rustle and froze, still facing the clearing, ears straining to determine where the sound came from. He couldn’t help thinking of the strange creatures roasting on spits in the camp. Were there other dangerous creatures nearby?

  The rustling grew nearer.

  Then he heard a playful, feminine shriek, and the two lovers who had been flirting and chasing each other at the camp came crashing into the clearing. The woman dashed into the pond, paused to splash water at her mate, then started off again. He lunged to reach her and when he caught her, she didn’t resist, but moved in close, cooing and giggling. She nuzzled his neck, breathing in his scent, and he followed suit, caressing her hair and bringing it up to his face. Her coos turned low and sonorous.

  Joshua realized he was staring.

  As quietly as he could, he backed up and headed to camp, face burning and missing Sachiko anew. He decided he’d ask Ocapo where their tent was and call it a night.

  As he neared the camp, he heard the everyn kreeling again, and wondered if that had anything to do with the mating dance coming to an end. When he got to the campground, however, he found everything in a controlled fury. Parents dashed about, gathering children, herding them to the large dancing area and making them sit. Others threw dirt and water on the fires without worrying if they got any on the still-roasting meat. Joshua started to call out to ask what was going on, when the ground shook violently enough to knock him off his feet.

  Everything happened at once. Children screamed. Adults were knocked to the ground, one just missing the fire. Joshua heard a screech and Cochise came flying at him, claws
extended. As he rolled to get out of his way, he heard a loud CRACK! A tree as large around as he was fell just where he’d been laying. He gaped at it a minute, then rolled back and huddled against it. There was no way to get up; the ground trembled—like a hurt, living thing, came the snatch of verse. He shook, too.

  Then came a sound like out of his nightmare, a huge groaning, ripping noise, and he saw the ground tear into two. The rip snaked its way into the camp—right toward the young unbonded girl he’d met earlier.

  “No!” Joshua yelled. He tried to crawl toward her.

  The crack grew two, three feet wide. Steam rose from it. It sped right beside her. Under her. She tipped and fell.

  Her mother screamed.

  An animal cry joined her scream, and a large everyn dove into the rift. He rose, wings laboring, the girl in his claws. He skimmed the ground to a safe spot, lowered her, and curled protectively around her.

  The shaking stopped.

  The noise silenced.

  Everyone remained still, but when the ground showed no sign of resuming its wild dance, people rose. Some ran to others, embracing and reassuring those who were all right. The Bondfriend healer and Terry hurried to those who were injured, directing some of the men to carefully move them to a safer part of the camp. Others cleaned up the damage and rekindled the fires. To one side, the entranced girl was awake and aware and hugging her new everyn Bondfriend, while her family surrounded them, rejoicing.

  Shakily, Joshua got to his feet. Cochise landed on his shoulder. “Thanks, buddy. You can be my jailer anytime,” he said and rubbed his neck.

  Ocapo came running up to him. “Are you all right?”

  He still felt himself quaking inside. “Uh, yeah, thanks to Cochise. But down the trail—in one of the clearings—the soul-mates—”

  Ocapo nodded. His eyes unfocused for a moment, then he grinned. “They’re all right. Their everyn checked on them—they didn’t even notice!”

  Despite himself, Joshua laughed.

  Chapter 21

  Deryl woke up weary and achy and not quite sure what he was doing in the middle of a strange glen. He sat up and started to run his fingers through his hair, but pulled them back with a grimace. His hair felt greasy and gross.

  And you smell pretty bad, even for a human, the unicorn said.

  Deryl blinked at him. You can telep?

  He shook its skin in an equine expression of annoyance. We already established that.

  Deryl rubbed his temples. He didn’t remember.

  It will come to you. Bathe and clean your clothes while it does.

  Obediently, but without much energy, he waded into the pool until he was knee-deep, then knelt until the water reached his shoulders. The cool water woke him up some. He pulled off his shirt and swished it around in the water. An everyn dove from a tree and took the wet garment from him.

  Thanks, he teleped. He started to untie his pants but realized he still had on his socks and shoes. He backed up to where it was shallow enough to sit, removed them and his pants. Again, the everyn relieved him of his garments and draped them over a stout branch.

  As he ducked and rinsed and rubbed the dirt and sweat off his body, snatches of the past few days came back, sluggish and distant. The Remembrance. Gardianju.

  She loved me, he thought, his heart clutched with grief and guilt. She loved me and tried to help me. She even joined minds with me. And I didn’t remember her! I didn’t even know she was there!

  Are you certain? The unicorn asked. Think carefully. See the past with new eyes.

  Then again, maybe he did. As he sorted through the chaos of memories from that first year at SK-Mental, he recognized times when he’d felt cared for, watched over, even loved. Like I had a guardian angel. He’d never said anything to anyone about it; sometimes, he’d thought it was the spirit of his dead mother, and there was no way he was going to say something so, well, crazy, to any of the psychiatric staff there. Neither had he admitted, even to himself, the feelings of loneliness when he didn’t sense her presence.

  Was that when Kanaan was taking all her concentration? he wondered. It hardly mattered; more important was that after her, his relationship with the Miscrias changed, so that when they Called him, they felt distant and impersonal. They demanded and he supplied, and none gave him the nurturing he’d gotten from her. Maybe he’d forced himself to forget because of that?

  He walked onto the shore and found an everyn waiting for him, a bag of food at its feet. He unwrapped the contents: a gourd with juice, several of the fruits and vegetables he’d become familiar with—and a turkey leg?

  From the Bondfriend feast, it explained. Joshua enjoyed them. We thought you would, too.

  Joshua!

  Is Joshua all right? He asked as he bit into the meat. Even cold, it tasted wonderful.

  He is with the Bondfriends. He is safe.

  Why would he be in danger? Deryl asked, then a rush of memory returned: Tasmae, wild-eyed and out of control, trying to choke Joshua while Leinad looked on, approving. Falling to her knees, begging for him to stop the voices in her head. Caught in the Remembrance. Fighting the death throes of Gardianju—

  It was his fault, all his fault.

  The drumstick fell from his fingers.

  He felt the unicorn bump him with his horn, and looked up to meet his large green eyes. Tasmae will be all right, he told him.

  How can you know? Deryl teleped back. He didn’t want blind reassurance. Too many times in his life, he’d been told things would be all right. Nothing ever was.

  This will be, the unicorn affirmed. We Beasts understand more than the Kanaan—or you humans. We know the Prophesies of Gardianju, and we know what is to come, far better than any of you.

  Then tell me! He urged, but he felt a gentle refusal. Fine! Tell me what to do.

  Tasmae is strong, and you, together, are part of what is to transpire. Trust in her strength, Deryl, and turn your thoughts to protecting our future.

  He couldn’t think about the future. He had to protect Tasmae—and there was only one way to do that. Deryl stood and with his mind, called to him his still-damp clothes. Take me to Joshua, he demanded as he dressed.

  The unicorn cocked his head back. That is not a good idea. You are weak, vulnerable; you need to listen to Tasmae.

  He didn’t care. He had to find Joshua, get as far away from Tasmae as he could. He’d contact her in the Netherworld, where she was safe. Please?

  The unicorn looked at him, then with a huff of resignation, allowed him to clamber onto his back. As they rode, Deryl fought back his fear as more of the Remembrance sorted itself out in his mind.

  No Miscria after Gardianju had ever dared communicate with him, just asked their specific questions and accepted his specific answers. They couldn’t, lest they risk losing their sanity. None even tried—until Tasmae.

  I made her communicate with me. I made her go deeper into the Remembrance than she probably ever could have otherwise. And I, I let her touch my mind.

  She was going to die, just like Gardianju.

  And that would be his fault, too.

  *

  Tasmae returned to herself.

  For a moment, she simply lay still, letting herself grow aware of the pressure of the mat against her side, the dampness of her hair, the bittersweet sadness that lingered in her soul. She opened her eyes and glanced up at the Remembrance. It had closed its buds tightly and its fronds drooped as if exhausted by the experience, too. Exhausted, yet satisfied. At last, it had completed its purpose.

  She understood. She had shared the life of Gardianju, and she understood it as no other Miscria could.

  She smiled. I am the Queen of Riddles—and Ydrel, the biggest riddle of them all. Of course, he was a mystery to the others. They knew him as Gardianju did, even less than she did. All knew Ydrel—but not Deryl.<
br />
  “Deryl?” She leaned up on her elbows and looked around. Where was he? She’d felt him there, at the end, holding Gardianju, holding her, reassuring them. Loving them. Deryl?

  Leinad knelt beside her. Do you understand now? Have you learned the danger he is?

  She reached up, touched his cheek, felt his fear. Poor Leinad, dear Leinad. Like the Miscria before her, he didn’t have all the information. He could not know the truth.

  I will explain all later, she promised him. First, I must find Deryl. She stood, pleased to find she could do so without assistance.

  The healer moved to block her way. First, you will do the cleansing.

  Yes. It would reassure Leinad and the others that she had recovered well. Besides, she should not be with Deryl like this. She nodded and meekly followed the healer to the baths where she could purify her body and psyche.

  Then, she would find Deryl and complete her purpose.

  She shivered in anticipation.

  *

  Deryl looked at the unicorn field, frowning in doubt. Off to the far side, he saw a few unicorns grazing, but no people; the stable looked empty, though shadows hid some of it. Are you sure Joshua is here? I don’t see him.

  Joshua will arrive soon. We will wait here.

  The unicorn walked to the stables, but stopped outside them. Deryl dismounted, his muscles grateful for the rest, but his mind racing to remember how he had teleported without actually teleporting now. He leaned for a moment against his ride. One thing was certain; he needed some food or he’d never have the energy to make the journey.

  Where would you go, Beloved?

  “Tasmae!” Deryl spun and for a moment, stared at her in disbelief. It was her: a little tired, a little wan perhaps, but otherwise healthy and whole, and looking a bit smug. She was all right?