Obsidian Tears

by Jaleta Clegg

  "It was in my report."

  He shook his head. "Lowell must have edited parts before he gave it to me."

  "Unless you want to die by public flaying and being skinned alive, we'd better come up with some kind of a plan. We have to convince them we're worth more alive."

  He swallowed hard. "You're serious."

  I didn't bother to answer.

  "How can we convince them of anything if they won't talk to us?" he asked.

  I limped back to my rock and sat. This time I wasn't going to get away. I was stuck. I had no more answers. I scratched my head, watching the dried blood flake away. I was dirty, bruised, and battered, and at the end of my rope.

  Vance sat next to me. "There has to be a way. I'm not planning on dying here."

  "I've tried everything I know to do." It came out whiny. Which depressed me even more.

  "You've done more than anyone else. How's your head?"

  "It aches."

  "Sleep for a while. I'll try to think of something."

  I lay down and let him tuck the blanket around me. I held onto the Eggstone, even though I doubted it would do me any good.

  Nothing had changed when I woke. I was groggy, hungry, dirty, and still tired. Vance sat against the far wall, under the torch, scratching on the rock with a small piece he'd pilfered from the torch stand. I stumbled past him, still limping and in pain. My knee ached, my ankle throbbed, and my head hurt. I ducked into the primitive bathroom and did what I could to relieve some of my discomfort.

  The bucket of water was full again. The skitarrit had left another platter of grain, cold and congealed into a gluey mass that turned my stomach. I drank water and made myself eat some of the grain. I could only choke down a few bites.

  Curiosity woke again as I watched Vance scratching the rock. I shifted over so I could see what he was doing. He had a complicated diagram on the floor that made no sense to me. He glanced up and grinned. His black hair wasn't sleek and smooth now. It was tangled and matted. He had dirt and grime on his face.

  "What are you doing?" I asked.

  "Ven-Shui diagrams. Interrelationships and cultural trends corrected for new data."

  "Now say it in a language I can understand."

  "There are still ration bars in my pack," he said. "Better than cold grain, but not much."

  I grimaced. "I'm not hungry." I would have been ravenous if there was anything edible handy.

  "The Sessimoniss culture has changed, as I'm sure you're aware. I'm trying to figure out a way to get them to listen to us."

  "By scratching complicated diagrams on the rock. It isn't going to work." I scooped up another handful of water from the bucket and drank it. "Whoever the invaders are, they offered deadly insult to the Sessimoniss. They hunt them like animals because they don't make good slaves. They've offended their honor and pride."

  He sat back, rubbing one hand along his chin. His dark eyes watched me, thinking. "So if we can convince them we aren't the enemy, they might let us live." He raised his eyebrow.

  "Possibly. We have to convince them the Eggstone isn't dead, that it can still help. And that we're necessary to that help." I stroked the surface of the Eggstone.

  "How did they know before? That you were the Priestess?"

  "Besides me speaking their language? I don't know. The Eggstone gave off some kind of energy before. It's been too depleted to do that."

  The guards clattered their spears on the rock. We both looked over at the door. I heard hissing. I stood and limped to where I could see what was happening outside.

  Three Sessimoniss faced our guards. They were all scarred. One was missing half his left arm. That surprised me. The Sessimoniss hadn't tolerated cripples before, at least not that I'd seen. The one with the missing arm pushed his way past my guards. The other two, very young males, crowded in after the older one.

  I looked at his tunic, noting the colors and gashes across it. Though it was filthy and torn I still recognized the intricate pattern. I looked back up at his face in surprise.

  "Koresh'Niktakket of Keristass," I greeted him. I bowed low, the full bow of respect and honor to an equal. This was the Sessimoniss who had fought the hardest to kill me before. And the one most changed. He'd touched the Eggstone, absorbed its memories. I wondered what he wanted now.

  "Priestess," he greeted me, giving me the full title. He no longer called me Heshk Bashnessit, sacred blasphemy. He bowed low, giving me honor in return.

  I straightened and waited for him to explain why he had come. The young males behind him, from Keristass, shifted nervously. My guards followed them inside, hissing threats.

  Koresh'Niktakket of Keristass turned on them. "I wish to consult the Priestess, as is my right as Koresh'Niktakket. You cannot deny me."

  "Your clan is weak," the guard answered. "Three dreshtarrit, two skitarrit. And no terishniktassit. You should be destroyed."

  "The rules have changed," Keristass answered. "Koresh'Niktakket of Kishtosnitass has decreed no more deaths. And Sekkitass no longer drinks blood."

  The guard looked past him at me. "That may change soon enough." He turned around and took up his position outside the door.

  Keristass studied me, his face twisted in a permanent snarl by a long scar. "You brought wisdom before, though I was too blind to understand." He looked down at the Eggstone, still cradled against my chest. "Does it speak to you?"

  I wasn't quite sure how to answer so I told him the truth. "It has spoken to me once, since I put it back together. The Eggstone is weak. I don't know if it will ever speak again."

  He held out his one hand to me. His poison claw was retracted. I studied his hard face for a long moment, then stretched out my own hand and placed the Eggstone in his claws. My hand rested on top. I felt it stir, weakly. The thinnest thread of emotion trickled from it. Not quite anger, not quite pain, it tasted of both.

  Keristass sighed and let me take the Eggstone back. He shifted his gaze to Vance, searching his face as if seeking answers there. "You bring the wisdom of your people. Tell us what we can do to chase the invaders from our world."

  Vance looked at me, lost in the growling words.

  "Tell us of the invaders," I answered. "Tell us what weapons they bring, what they look like, how many of them have come." I took a step back and swept my free arm around at the rocks. "Sit, share our food. Let past enmity be forgotten." The words of the ancient ritual rose from some buried memory. I must have gotten them right.

  Keristass stared, blinking in astonishment. "The words of alliance have not been spoken in many long centuries."

  "Then it is past time for them to be spoken again. Your people are too few to fight among themselves. Too few for blood rites and feuds."

  "Wisdom again, from a human." He took one long stride forward and seated himself.

  Vance moved smoothly, offering him the platter of grain. "It is what we have," he said, his speech slow but his pronunciation correct.

  "You speak as a cub," Keristass said to Vance.

  "Because he does not have the Eggstone speaking through him," I said.

  Keristass nodded and solemnly accepted the unappetizing mass of grain. He ate a single bite before passing it to his two honor guards. The young Sessimoniss ate it quickly, as if they were starving.

  "I will tell you of the invaders," Keristass said. "They came a dreithyear past, just after the rainy season. Their ships came from nowhere. We fought beside those who had the secret of flight. They were destroyed. We saw their ships burn across the night. We gathered our warriors to fight, to protect our clans. The invaders refused to fight as honorable warriors. They sat in their ships, landed on the sacred stones of the inner court. They used weapons of the mind on us." He tapped the side of his head. "Pain here, unless we did as commanded. Many of our warriors went mad. Risskaratass slaughtered their own terishniktassit. And their young." He paused, staring into space.

  "What of their weapons?" I asked. "What do they look like?"

  "Ma
chines. Black." He held his hand up and sketched out a square. "And others, like thin sticks but not brittle. They cause pain and death with no marks. Poison in the air, that no one can smell or sense."

  He stopped talking, watching me with his yellow eyes. The warriors behind him, each had less than three slashes, very young warriors with little experience, blinked warily. Vance watched all three of them intently. I wondered how much of the explanation he'd understood.

  I chewed the end of my thumb. Something bothered me about his explanation. Some piece of something that I knew fit. I couldn't place it.

  "They had others with them," one of the young warriors spoke. "I saw them, coming from a ship. They were those like you."

  That was a surprise. Keristass hissed at the warrior. He cringed back.

  "Let him speak," I said. "What of these others, like me?"

  The young warrior slid back, kneeling and placing his face to the stone floor. Keristass hissed annoyance. He kicked the young warrior, more gently than I expected.

  "Speak to the Priestess," he ordered.

  The young warrior stayed down, his face and body still communicating the other's dominance. I waited, smart enough not to interfere.

  "I was hunting," he said finally, "late at night. I was not a warrior, yet. I was not allowed to hunt. But I went anyway. They were there, by their ships. They had others, those who smelled of fear. They were not young, though they were the size of young ones. They were teshkirrit."

  Slaves. That was odd. Not young, but the size of young ones? What did he mean by that?

  "Tell me what they were like," I said.

  The young warrior risked a glance up at me. He dropped his gaze immediately to the stone floor. "They wore odd robes, like yours."

  I glanced down at my filthy shipsuit. Most of the Sessimoniss wore long tunics and nothing else. A very few wore short robes, dress like things that came to their knees. Few wore sandals, none wore boots. I shifted my one booted foot forward, my other ankle was still too swollen for me to get my boot back on.

  "Did they wear boots like this?" I asked, using the word from Basic, there was no equivalent in the Sessimoniss language.

  He stared at my foot. "I do not know," he admitted, cringing as if expecting a blow. "I did not linger or stray too close."

  "Did they use weapons on their teshkirrit?"

  "Short sticks, barely a finger width and as long as my hand. The teshkirrit were afraid."

  "Mind sticks," Keristass said heavily. "They cause much pain. They cause death among the Sessimoniss."

  "How many are there?"

  "Each of the invaders has one, always on their person."

  "And how many of the invaders are there?"

  Keristass looked away. "I have not been outside since we came here for refuge." He lifted the stump of his arm. "I am not a warrior. I am Koresh'Nikatakket of a dead clan. And only because we have no terikatassnit." No higher ranking males, no warriors. "We have only a handful of young, and no terishniktassit to birth new ones. Before you came, I would have given my blood to Sekkitass, to strengthen the other clans. Now, I am useless."

  "You have been very useful," I said. And meant it.

  He looked up sharply, his eyes narrowed.

  "We value your experience, your skills."

  "You wish to know how many of the invaders sit in our homes and desecrate our temples? I shall find the answer. Keristass shall serve the Eggstone."

  "And your house will find eternal glory."

  He rose stiffly and bowed, a deep bow of one who served. His two young warriors scrambled to their knees and pressed their faces on the stone floor.

  "We shall bring you an answer within three days," Keristass said as he stood. "Or we shall die."

  I rose with him, the Eggstone out in front of me. "I am honored by your service. The Eggstone is honored with your sacrifice."

  He snapped the end of his spear against the floor. The sound echoed in the cave.

  "For this was I spared, to serve the god I reviled as weak." He blinked, a sideways sliding of his eyelids that signaled amusement. "Sekkitass has twisted fate strangely."

  With that comment he turned and left, walking with more purpose. Almost I saw his old confidence in himself.

  "Sekkitass ride with you," I called as he passed through the door. He saluted me outside, a warrior's salute to his clan leader. And then he strode away.

  I sank back on the stone.

  "You wanted information?" I said to Vance. "I think we may finally get some."

  Chapter 10

  "What did he say to you?" Vance demanded. "What was all of that about?"

  "You didn't understand any of it? You said you spoke their language."

  He made a sour face. "So I don't speak it very well. I admit it is a lot more complicated than we thought."

  "They use simplified language and Basic when they deal with us. But only in space, in the Empire's space," I amended. "He acknowledged you directly. Do you have any idea what a huge change that is? I had to force them to recognize me before. They only did because of the Eggstone. They completely ignored the others." I swallowed hard, remembering being here before, with Jasyn, Jerimon and Tayvis.

  "So, what did he say? Who was he?" Vance's questions pulled me back to our current situation.

  "He was one of the most powerful clan leaders, before. His clan has been wiped out, almost completely. When he returns, if he returns, his clan will be no more. I think he agreed to go hoping he would die."

  "Go where, Dace?" Vance said with false patience.

  "He agreed to go to their city and count invaders for me." I leaned back, stretching out my aching leg and propping it higher.

  "You know something about them," Vance said, watching my face.

  "There's a connection to something, but I can't figure out what." My head still felt thick, my thoughts sluggish. Verbal sparring with the Sessimoniss had drained me. I closed my eyes, pretending I was comfortable on the knobby stone outcrop.

  "What was all the bowing about?"

  "They pledged service to the Eggstone. Considering they served Sekkitass before, it's quite a shift in attitude."

  "Tell me, Dace, tell me everything that went on in that interview."

  I opened my eyes again and watched him. I hoped I wasn't nearly as dirty and unkempt as he was, but I knew it wasn't true.

  "I have a degree in this," he said with a wry smile. "I was hoping to be offered the post of ambassador to the Sessimoniss some day."

  It took a long time for me to explain. Vance understood more than I believed possible without the Eggstone's intervention. I had to think back and fill in background and history. I had to explain the significance of postures and gestures that I hadn't even thought of before. I wasn't sure about a lot of it. Without the Eggstone feeding information and memories to me I was doing a lot of guessing from vague memories.

  He was very quiet when I finally finished. He moved across the room and sat over his diagram, studying it. He scratched out part then added more. I dozed off while he worked.

  I had a dream. Men in white tunics chased me through a fetid jungle. Something choked me. They came closer, their feet soundless in the sand of the trails. I tried to run faster. I moved sluggishly. The harder I struggled, the more I was stuck. They had weapons, slender sticks that could disable with pain. The lead one was getting closer. He raised his stick and tapped me on the shoulder.

  I gasped and rolled over, my eyes snapping open. I scrabbled on the rock for a weapon I didn't have. I hadn't slept with a gun under my pillow for well over a year, but the habit was hard to break. I came all the way awake and almost wished I hadn't. The stone room was the same. My knee hurt from being slammed on the stone when I rolled over. I pushed myself up, sitting on the stone.

  Vance was several steps away. He watched me warily, the same way he had after I'd finished putting the Eggstone together.

  "Sorry," I muttered. I pushed my hands through my hair and wished I hadn't.
It was gummy and matted and crunchy with blood.

  "You started screaming. They got curious enough to look in," he nodded his head towards our guards. One of them peered through the door, watching us.

  "Go back to your post," I snapped irritably in the Sessimoniss language. He swiveled around, planting his back to us.

  "Lowell said you had nightmares, sometimes," Vance said. "He didn't mention you got violent about it."

  "Did I hit you?"

  "I can move faster than that. You want to tell me what the dream was all about?"

  "Are you my therapist now?" That came out too sharp. Vance was only trying to help. Lowell was the one I wanted to strangle. "It was nothing."

  The skitarrit ducked in, carrying the tray of grain that was our meal. Breakfast, lunch, or dinner, I couldn't have said. She put it on the stone and knelt, touching her head to the floor before she backed out of the cave.

  "I'm beginning to hate that stuff," I muttered.

  "Do they ever serve anything else?" Vance picked up the platter and came to sit near me.

  "They did before."

  "Tell me about it." He scooped up a fingerful of the grain and made a face. But he still ate it.

  "Jerimon had a hard time eating anything but that." I ate a bite. "He tried to impress me and one up Tayvis by eating two kizzt at the same time. He barfed all over the room."

  Vance grinned. "That wasn't in your official report."

  "Because it had nothing to do with the Sessimoniss. We were on their ship. We had no idea where we were going or what they were going to do with us. Well, I had some idea, but only because of the Eggstone. We couldn't figure out how to open the doors until the Eggstone showed me how. I could almost build one of their ships after that." I trailed off, struck by an idea. Did I still have the specs for their ships in my head? Could I use that to decide if we could fly one?

  "What? Tell me what you're thinking."

  "The Eggstone gave me the entire specs for their ship when I asked how to open the doors." I shut my eyes and tried to dig it up from my memories. It was gone. I swore in frustration. "It isn't there now."

  "Maybe it will come back." Vance scooped up another fingerful of grain.