Seeking the Dream

by Marcia J. Bennett

  “Very impressive, Green Hair,” Zojac said as Bhaldavin stopped before him. “You are all the man called Gringers claimed. You will be a welcome addition to our tribe.”

  “Your tribe?” one of the other men snapped. He had brown hair, brown eyes, and a birdlike beak of a nose that was outsized for his face. “Have you forgotten that the Galler tribe is to share equally in this venture? And that includes all prisoners taken.”

  A red-haired man with a bushy beard and bad teeth added his voice to the discussion. “We of the Barrens won’t be left out either!”

  Zojac raised both hands in a placating gesture. “No one will be left out! All the prisoners and valuables found within the city will be divided equally.”

  “By who?” Brown Hair demanded. “You?”

  As the men wrangled over who would claim what when the spoils of their successful raid were drawn together, Bhaldavin looked over Zojac’s shoulder up to the first tier of land above the lake. He thought he had seen movement there.

  The city was protected from all but skitters, the smallest of land draak. Those small draak were no more than three meters in length and they were known to swim on occasion, which made it almost impossible to keep them out of the lower city. If it was not a skitter he had seen, there was always the chance that he had spotted a gensvolf, for there was a pack denned somewhere in the lower eastern half of the city in a section the Barl-ganians had abandoned fifty or sixty years before. They had actually tamed several of the voracious carnivores by capturing them as pups.

  Bhaldavin’s glance swept across the clutter of old buildings and green growth. And if not a gensvolf or a skitter, what had he seen? Such furtive movements were common among all wild creatures, but few were so large that he would see them moving from such a distance.

  Theon and Lil-el were on the third tier of land above the lake working their way upward when they heard Bhaldavin begin to sing draak. Staying in the evening shadows as much as possible, they returned to the first tier and kept the crumbling walls of an old building between themselves and the lake. It took time to locate a secure place where they could see without being seen. As they crouched side by side and peered between another stone wall and the overhanging branches of a large oro tree, its sweet-smelling blossoms pungent in the air, Bhaldavin’s song ended and Zojac signaled him to come back toward the shore.

  Theon raised his light gun and aimed it at Zojac a moment or two before the Wastelander raised his own gun and pointed it at Bhaldavin. Theon’s gun was fully charged, and he was in a mood to use it.

  Lil-el held her breath, her fear for Bhaldavin’s life causing blood to thunder loud in her ears. Then Zojac lowered his gun and Bhaldavin began walking toward the man. Quickly she reached out and set a hand to Theon’s wrist.

  “No,” she whispered. “It’s too far and Bhaldavin is too close to the man. You might hit him.”

  Theon heard her but did not lower the gun. “We might never have a better chance to reduce the odds against us.”

  “If you fail to kill them all, if you miss just one of them,” Lil-el said, fighting to keep her voice even, “he would kill Bhaldavin and then run and tell the others about us and they’d be prepared for us. We must know where everyone is before we try to do anything. Gringers’s life might well depend on our moving slowly.”

  Slowly Theon’s finger eased back on the trigger. Another time, he promised himself. “So what do we do now?” he asked softly, his glance never leaving the group of men below. “The only way we’re going to get Kelsan and the others to help us is if we can come up with a good plan, one we can all survive.”

  “We have two guns to their six or eight,” Lil-el pointed out. “That means we can’t attack them openly.” She glanced down at the pier and saw one of the men waving his arms excitedly in the air. Suddenly a heavyset man with dark hair grabbed Bhaldavin’s arm and pushed him through the gathered men, starting toward the first set of stairs leading upward.

  She poked Theon in the side and signed for him to go back the way they had come. After a brief pause to take one last glimpse of Bhaldavin, she followed Theon up several debris-covered steps and into the ruins of a building whose wooden roof had half collapsed, shielding them from the main roadway.

  “We’ll wait here a few minutes,” Lil-el said as she leaned back against the wall near the side doorway, “and give them time to get ahead of us.”

  Theon took up a position on the other side of the doorway and kept his gun in his hand. “And then?” he asked, dark eyebrows arched in question.

  Lil-el studied Theon a moment, slightly surprised that he would look to her for leadership when he usually went about his own business with no questions asked and no opinions wanted. It was Gringers, she decided. Theon was more worried than he let on and was unconsciously looking for someone to reassure him that everything was going to be all right.

  She took a deep breath and released it. “Then we’ll see if we can get back into the mansion through the cellar tunnel. If they’ve found that exit, we’ll just have to think of something else. We may even have to try going over the stockade wall just like they did.”

  “That sounds more like suicide than a plan,” Theon grumbled.

  “I know,” Lil-el replied softly. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  Chapter 14

  DHALVAD LOOKED OUT the one window in his room and beheld the desert in the late-afternoon light. Ra-shun had dropped below the horizon hours earlier, and Ra-gar was casting long shadows in the wavelike dunes that lapped the very edges of the city to the south. Tre-ayjeel was a world of striking contrasts: lifeless arid desert below, lush valleys and lakes above. The main city housed over five thousand inhabitants, and its shops, markets, and open-air bazaars were filled with trade goods from all of the outer territories to the north, east, and west to the very edges of the Unknown Lands. Another four thousand Ni lived in those outer territories in both small and large communal holdings where they worked the land, lakes, and rivers for their livelihoods. Many of those had come from Jjaan-bi, Val-hrodhur, and other southland holdings, refugees from the Sarissa War against the People.

  Dhalvad remembered nothing of that war, though he had been one of its young victims, losing his family, his home, and his very heritage in the senseless slaughter that had destroyed Ni life on the western edge of the Enzaar Sea. As far as he knew, he and an older brother were the only ones from his family to survive the carnage. Of the older brother, he knew nothing but what his foster father, Haradan, had told him: that the youth had lived with them a short while, then had disappeared without a trace into the Deep.

  Dhalvad’s thoughts on the subject were interrupted by Gi-arobi, who had finished the plate of fresh kansa left for them and had come to join him at the window. Feeling the tug on his pants leg, he reached down and swung Gi-arobi up to the windowsill.

  “Had enough to eat?” he asked as he leaned against the folding shutters that, when closed, provided protection from wind, cold, and rain.

  “Enough for now,” Gi answered.

  Dhalvad watched as Gi licked at his furred fingers and ran them down across his stomach where the yellow kansa juice had dribbled. When finished cleaning himself off, the olvaar leaned out over the sill and peered down. It was a sheer drop with no railings or ledges to offer any means of escape.

  Dhalvad reached out and closed a protective hand around Gi’s left leg. Gi pulled back and patted Dhalvad’s hand, thrumming amusement.

  “Gi not fall,” he said. “Balance be very good.”

  “Perhaps,” Dhalvad said. “But just to be on the safe side, I’ll hang onto you. I don’t want to lose you like…”

  Gi read the pain in Dhalvad’s eyes and stood and moved into his arms. “Not lose Gi—ever!” Gi responded to Dhalvad’s hug as best as he could though his short arms barely spread around Dhalvad’s chest and sides. “Poco and Jiam be all right, Dhal. Not worry. We find. Make them safe again. Dhal not forget Big Fur. He watch over them u
ntil we come. Yes!”

  “I pray that you’re right, Gi,” Dhalvad said, fighting a lump in his throat. “If anything should happen to them…”

  Gi made a soft chirring noise deep in his throat. The sound could not be translated into trader, but Dhalvad knew what it meant and hugged the olvaar tighter.

  A few moments later Gi pushed away. “Someone coming, Dhal.”

  Dhalvad turned as the door opened, banging back against the wall. Paa-tol stood there frowning.

  “Come on,” he growled. “You’re wanted! Leave the olvaar!”

  Gi-arobi’s claws dug into Dhalvad’s arm. “Gi not be left behind!”

  “What is it?” Dhalvad demanded of Paa-tol. “What’s going on?”

  Paa-tol took several steps into the room, his frown of anger and impatience causing Gi to cling tighter to Dhalvad. “There’s no time for explanations! Move!”

  Dhalvad stood down from the windowsill, Gi still in his arms. “I won’t leave Gi behind!”

  “We’re going to transfer again! He’ll just be at risk!”

  “He linked with the Tamorlee once. He can do it again!”

  “Bring him then, damn it!” Paa-tol growled. “But move!” He crossed the room in four quick strides and caught Dhalvad by the arm.

  Dhalvad pushed Gi-arobi up to straddle his right shoulder as Paa-tol pulled him toward the doorway. “Hang on, Gi.”

  Gi whistled an affirmative and got a good hold on Dhalvad’s braid as Paa-tol marched them down the hall and into the room occupied by Amet.

  The speaker stood in the center of the room waiting impatiently, arms across his chest.

  “What’s all the hurry?” Dhalvad asked as Paa-tol released him.

  “The Tamorlee has located the other crystal!” Amet snapped as he pushed past Dhalvad. “Paa-tol! Grab our pack! Hurry!”

  Startled by Amet’s abruptness, Dhalvad followed in the Speaker’s wake, Paa-tol stepping on his heels. Moments later they were climbing the steps to the transfer courtyard.

  Amet turned and glared at Paa-tol as he and Dhalvad reached the archway leading outside. “I told you to have him leave the olvaar!”

  “I told him!” Paa-tol snarled. “He refused. You argue with him!”

  Dhalvad caught at Gi’s leg. “We go together, or I don’t go!” he said firmly.

  Amet clenched his fists. “I swear, if we had more time, I’d take that little—Never mind! There’s no time to argue! Come on!”

  He led the way out onto the terrace and signaled the two Ni on watch. “We’re in a hurry! Is the way clear?”

  The two Ni on watch stepped back out of the way without a murmur of protest.

  Amet nodded to Dhalvad and Paa-tol, and they took their places in a tight circle. “I had a partial linkage with the Tamorlee just a few minutes ago,” Amet said, “to check and see if it had had any luck finding Mithdaar. It said it had and demanded that you be brought at once.”

  Amet slipped the Tamorlee on the middle finger of his right hand and brought it up where all could see. They moved in closer until they stood shoulder to shoulder.

  “This is going to be a difficult transfer because none of us has ever been where we’re going. Much will depend on how clear a vision the Tamorlee received from Mithdaar and his carrier. Now, if the transfer is not good, we’ll have to return here, so be ready to call up this transfer point on my signal. No pulling back. No hesitating. Whatever we do, we must do it together. Our lives may well depend on it. Do you understand, Gi-arobi?”

  “Gi understand,” the olvaar replied.

  “And if the transfer is good?” Paa-tol asked.

  “What happens when we find the other crystal will depend on what and whom we meet when we get where we’re going. We all must be prepared to move quickly.”

  “Do you mean fight—or run?” Paa-tol asked.

  “Either! All right, let’s go.”

  Gi watched as Dhalvad and Paa-tol reached out and touched fingers to the fire stone ring that glowed green in the fading light. He hesitated, remembering the stomach-turning sensation of falling during the last transfer. Then, releasing a deep sigh, he joined Dhalvad and Paa-tol and touched the ring. He was instantly caught and held in the field of energy the Ni called polu. The falling sensation was not as bad as it had been the first time. Kind Voice was the first to greet him.

  Welcome, little one. We have far to go. Are you ready?

  Gi ready. Where going?

  I’ll show you—all of you. Pay close attention because these scenes are all I have. I hope they are enough.

  You’re no longer in contact with the other crystal? Amet demanded.

  No. The carrier has set Mithdaar aside. It is obvious that he or she isn’t aware of the proper use of a Seeker stone, nor aware of the special needs of this particular crystal.

  Tamorlee? Dhalvad asked. How long has it been since you were in contact with the other crystal?

  A brief time. Perhaps ten of your minutes.

  Please show us what you have, Dhalvad requested. If the scene is clear enough we still may be able to make the transfer without a direct energy guide from Mithdaar.

  It’s too risky! Amet objected. We’ll have to wait for another contact. Tamorlee, release us from the link!

  Dhalvad sensed Amet’s sudden panic and realized that the Speaker was trying to pull out of the link. The Tamorlee reacted instantly by enfolding them all the tighter into its energy net. A scene grew before them; there was water to either side and a long stretch of what looked like a stone dock before them. The scene shifted and they were looking up at a partially overgrown city built on the side of a mountain. Moss, lichen, and vine crawled across the old stone ruins, and dark windows and doorways stared back at them as if accusing them personally of neglect.

  All within the link shivered as an eerie song rose into the air. It was the wail of a draak singer, and it touched them with a feeling of loneliness and loss. The song changed a moment later, and as they watched and listened, there was movement in the water nearby.

  The carrier is a draak singer, Paa-tol observed as the scene came to life within their minds. But his voice—it’s like none I’ve ever heard before.

  Nor I, Amet agreed. Curiosity overcame fear, and he stopped trying to pull out of the link. He calls a draak for those who stand at the end of the dock. They’re dressed strangely. Paa-tol? Do you know where we are? Have you ever heard of such a place as this?

  No, though it reminds me much of Port Bhalvar. Amet, take a closer look at those who stand at the edge of the dock. If I’m not mistaken, they’re men!

  The draak’s head disappeared beneath the water, and the carrier turned, hesitated, then walked toward the strangely garbed men.

  They threaten Little Fish with some kind of a weapon, Paa-tol muttered. What is it?

  I don’t know, Amet said.

  They listened as the men began to argue about possession of the crystal carrier. Again the scene shifted as Little Fish turned to look up at the tiered city. In a few moments, the scene faded.

  Was the image clear enough for transfer? the Tamorlee asked.

  Yes. I think so, Dhalvad answered. If you can hold that last scene for us.

  No! Amet snapped, interrupting. I say that we wait for another linkage with the second crystal! It’ll be safer! Paa-tol, back me up on this!

  If there’s no need for hurry, perhaps it would be better to wait, Paa-tol suggested.

  It was strange, Dhalvad thought, how Paa-tol’s aggressiveness faded when in link with the crystal. Was it respect, awe, or fear? Perhaps a little of each, he decided. As for Amet, he believed that the Speaker was simply afraid to try an untested transfer point. But if doing so meant they could find and retrieve Mithdaar and get back to Jjaan-bi more quickly, he was willing to make the attempt. Poco, Jiam, and Screech were all depending on him.

  I would be willing to go first, if you’ll trust me, he offered. Break the link and let me try it alone. I’m sure I can make the jump successfully
. If I do, I’ll come back for you.

  No, Amet answered coldly. We go together or not at all! Tamorlee, we’ll wait for another contact. Release us from the link. The last was not a request, it was a command.

  The Tamorlee did not respond. The link remained firm.

  Make it let us go, Dhalvad! Amet cried, panic building once again.

  Dhalvad, the crystal said, ignoring Amet. I fear for the safety of Mithdaar if we don’t move quickly!

  I’m willing to try a transfer, Dhalvad said. Gi-arobi?

  Go where you go, Dhal.

  What about Paa-tol and Amet? Dhalvad asked the crystal. Can you drop them out of the link? Dhalvad’s heartbeat quickened. Perhaps he would finally have a chance to kick free of Amet.

  If I release one, I release all, the Tamorlee answered. I believe I have energy enough to carry them through with us. We can but try if they won’t help.

  You cannot force us to come! Amet cried.

  Amet scared, Gi said.

  I am not! Amet refuted at once. I’m just being cautious!

  You are with me, Amet, and within me, the Tamorlee said firmly. You have no choice. Either you trust to Dhalvad’s and Gi-arobi’s imaging, or you join them and help reinforce the image needed to carry us all safely to the place where Mithdaar awaits me.

  The crystal was demonstrating a tenacity of purpose that secretly delighted Dhalvad, especially where Amet was concerned. Perhaps he had been wrong not to tell the crystal everything.

  Paa-tol finally caved in. Show us the transfer point again, please.

  No, Paa-tol! Amet snapped.

  I trust to no one’s imaging but my own, he answered grimly. We have no choice but to do as the Tamorlee wishes.

  The Tamorlee spoke before Amet could say anything. This is what I received from Mithdaar envisioned by the one called Little Fish. It’s impossible to judge the clarity of the image without a physical bond, but the energy patterns Mithdaar sends are strong, and I believe they will guide us true.

  Amet? Dhalvad queried. Paa-tol, Gi, and I will try this transfer without you, but it would be safer and quicker with your help. It was the closest Dhalvad could come to asking Amet for assistance.