“Remember the references to the ‘Demons of Fire’? Fyak mentions them, often and loudly, as do his Faithful. Too much of a coincidence?” Sorli warmed to his theme. “Fyak preaches the destruction of all telepaths, blaming them for causing the Cataclysm by conspiring with these demons. He warns his people those days will return unless they follow his teachings. Our lowland people care very little about religious dogma, they scent no danger in his rantings. To them he is obviously mad. Yet the desert tribes seem susceptible; their ears are wide open to his words, insane though his notions about social restructuring seem to us.”
Esken held up his hand. “You’ve no need to convince me, Sorli. Are you therefore suggesting that the Valtegans are the demons, and Fyak the False Priest?”
“Yes, Master Esken. Interestingly enough, the region where Fyak lairs used to be called Khezy’ipik. Our name for it is Chezy.”
“Khezy’ipik … ?”
“Recently, in my spare time, I’ve been assimilating the data that the Keissian, Jo, made available to us on the Valtegan language, in case we should ever need it. That name, Khezy’ipik, has a Valtegan ring to it.”
“Ah. Does it?” Esken stood up. “I think I’ll have that drink after all.”
While he was occupied with the c’shar brewer, Sorli continued: “We now know Valtegan bones are regularly being found at all five sites where the Terran archeologists are digging. They obviously had a reasonably large presence on Shola. Also, large quantities of green stones—the Green Seeds of New Regret?—have been found in areas that appear to have been exclusively Valtegan. No purpose has been found for them as yet.”
“I hate to admit it, Sorli, but it might be politic to let our opposition to the digging drop. No need for a major about-face. Just let the matter quietly die.” He resumed his seat.
Sorli decided it was best not to comment on his Guild Master’s decision. “Do you know that I can’t find any mention of where Fyak comes from? Nor of a god called Kezule?”
“To hell with him and his God!” said Esken unexpectedly. “What we’re going to do about him is more to the point!”
“We ought to give this new information to the relevant authorities,” said Sorli. “Our traditional role is to facilitate communications, after all.”
“I imagine the Forces’ attention is already sharply focused on Fyak,” Esken said drily. “He’s attacked the Laasoi guildhouse, abducted one Telepath, brain-damaged two more beyond hope of recovery, and caused the deaths of at least four others.”
“Empire building?” suggested Sorli.
“Possibly, but we still have the dire warnings against investigating our past, and against demons to take into consideration. In the circumstances …”
“Perhaps Father Lijou is already downwind of this question?” He was reluctant to add that Ghyan, currently serving in Vartra’s newly appointed Shrine on the Valsgarth estate, might also be able to help. Ghyan’s connections to the Aldatan clan would only inflame Esken’s feud with Konis over the issue of the new Leska pairs. That particular insult had not yet been forgotten. Then he thought of what might be at stake and changed his mind.
“Master Esken, maybe you should approach Ghyan as well as Father Lijou. Lately we haven’t kept as close contact with Stronghold as, according to those ancient texts, we should; they may have a lot to tell us. Our Leskas’ dreams have always been relayed to Ghyan, and I know he, in turn, sends them on to Lijou. Neither of them reports back to us unless we specifically request it.”
“It looks like I’m going to contact them, doesn’t it? We have to be beyond personal politics. My differences with Clan Lord Aldatan must take second place.”
As Esken stopped to take a drink of his c’shar, Sorli heaved an inward sigh of relief at his decision.
“Don’t talk to anyone else regarding this matter, Sorli,” Esken continued, “When we have something more solid, then we can approach the appropriate people.”
“Will we be making this information available to the committee collating all the guild records?”
“All in good time, Sorli,” said Esken, draining his mug and getting up.
*
Vanna was restless today. Carrie watched from the depths of her chair as her friend got up for perhaps the fifth time and began pacing the room. Instinct, coupled with the knowledge Taizia had given her, convinced her that Vanna was likely to go into labor today. The very fact she didn’t feel a need to rest was significant in itself in these latter days of her pregnancy.
“This Derwent Human is strange, Carrie,” she was saying as she paused by her desk. “I don’t understand him. He must be talented or he wouldn’t be on Shola, but …” She broke off with a sigh and began pacing again, tail flicking rhythmically from side to side.
“But what, Vanna?”
“He attends the lectures at the Guild but refuses to take the tests so they can gauge his progress. He’s also refused to have an aura scan, or cooperate in any attempts to chart his talents!”
“Then why is he here?”
Vanna stopped by the settee, carefully sitting down and pulling her legs up so she could stretch her gravid body out more comfortably.
“That’s what I’ve been asking myself. I believe it may be that he’s more interested in letting us hear his ideas. Several times he’s been reprimanded for telling his theories to groups of Sholan students in the Guild refectory. He’s even had the temerity to try preaching to Guardian Dhaika at Vartra’s Retreat! If he goes on like this, they’ll exclude him from the Guild, maybe even request his return to Earth. I can’t say I’d be sorry.”
“What’s he been saying that’s so radical?” asked Carrie, remembering her own early clashes with the Telepath Guild over its rigid ethical code. She watched Vanna continue to make herself more comfortable, suddenly realizing that her friend had never seemed so feline, so alien, as she did now.
“He’s saying that our Talent is a gift from the Mother Goddess. Not the Green Goddess, you realize, his Goddess, and that we should be worshipping her and no one else.”
Carrie frowned. “What’s so bad about that?”
“Our work as telepaths bears no relationship to our religious beliefs, Carrie. You know that. Telling the young ones that the two are connected is wrong, very wrong. As for telling them which God or Goddess they should worship! That’s a very personal matter, one to be discussed with the appropriate priests, not with someone who’s a stranger to our culture.”
“You shouldn’t let it worry you, Vanna. It sounds to me like Master Esken’s going to solve the problem for you. I don’t know why you’re letting yourself get so worked up about it. How did you hear about all this anyway? You haven’t left the estate for weeks now.”
“Brynne’s friend Terry keeps me generally informed,” she said. “As for the business at the Retreat, Brynne took Derwent there to look around. He was as embarrassed as I was at the way the man behaved! You’re right, though. You know, I wouldn’t be so concerned if it didn’t involve Brynne. He’s been seeing a lot of Derwent since the day that one arrived. Brynne told me last week that it was as if he’d had one of those visions that we all had when we first formed our links. He knew he had to be at the Guildhouse to meet one of the new arrivals from Earth, and he knew the one he was waiting for was Derwent the minute he set eyes on him.”
“Stranger things have happened to us, Vanna. I’m the last one to say what is and isn’t possible.”
Vanna sighed. “I know. There’s more. Derwent even stays apart from the other Terrans. He lives in a suite at the Accommodation Guildhouse in Valsgarth. Brynne goes there regularly to see him, and he won’t tell me why! He’s keeping something from me, Carrie,” she said, pushing herself up on one elbow. “I may not have been able to use my talent for the last two months, but there’s nothing wrong with my instincts and he’s definitely hiding something from me! What are he and Derwent doing that I can’t be told?”
Carrie eased herself out of her chair and went over to
her friend, sitting on the floor beside her. Reaching up she took Vanna’s hand in hers. “You’re getting too worked up about it, Vanna,” she said soothingly. “I’m sure it’s nothing much to worry about. You and Brynne have been getting along so much better this last couple of weeks.”
“That’s only because of the cub,” Vanna said fretfully. “I don’t think he’s really changed, nor does Garras.”
“I’m sure you’re wrong,” she said. Then she sensed Brynne’s arrival at the house. Dzaka had stopped him from entering and was asking why he was there.
She reached for the Terran, and as she made contact, she sensed what Vanna had been talking about. There was an area of his mind that was closed off in such a way that to Carrie at least, being of the same species, instantly drew attention to itself.
What can we do for you, Brynne? she asked.
He was surprised at her sending to him, but that passed, to be replaced by a faint sense of confusion. I came as quickly as I could when I realized she was in labor, but I thought Jack would be here.
As Carrie turned her attention back to Vanna, her friend’s hand tightened on hers, claws extended and beginning to penetrate. She reached up with her other hand, easing the pressure of Vanna’s fingers slightly.
She’s just started. Get Dzaka to fetch Jack! She cut him off and reached for Kusac. It’s time, she sent. Bring Garras. Brynne is already here, tell him that. She sensed her mate’s affirmative rather than heard it as she returned all her attention to Vanna.
There was a surprised and pained look on her friend’s face as she lay on the settee, her other hand curved protectively around her belly.
“It can’t be now,” she said. “It’s too early!”
“Only by a few days,” said Carrie soothingly. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine. Dzaka’s gone for Jack, Brynne’s on his way up, and Kusac’s bringing Garras.”
“No! I don’t want either of them here!” she said, snatching her hand away from Carrie to place it with the other. “It’s too early, I tell you!” Her ears were laid back flat and her pupils were enormous.
The door opened and Brynne entered, coming straight over to join them. Like many of the male Terrans, he’d chosen not to dress like the Sholans, and in his jeans and coat he looked completely out of place in the Sholan household.
Vanna’s body had relaxed again but now she pushed herself upright, growling. “I don’t want you here, Brynne!”
“We agreed I’d be here,” he said quietly, crouching down beside Carrie. “Jack’s on his way. Is there anything I can do?”
“Yes, leave!” she said, batting at him with one hand.
He caught it in his, exerting his strength against hers as she tried to pull free. “Vanna, you know you agreed, and you know why I have to be here,” he said. “Paternity has to be registered. It causes less problems if it’s done immediately.” He hesitated. “Besides, I want to know you’re both all right.”
Carrie decided it would be a good idea to move and began to rise to her feet.
Angrily, Vanna swung out at Brynne. Carrie felt a sudden hard blow across her chest. Her mind froze in fear as she went flying backward. Then strong arms caught her in midair, grasping her close for a moment before setting her gently down on her feet.
“Liegena, are you all right?” Dzaka’s face was creased with worry as he held her steady.
She passed a shaking hand across her forehead and nodded. “I’m fine, Dzaka. Thank you,” she said with feeling as she looked up at him.
He steered her toward the chair, moving his grip to her elbow as she sat down. “I’m glad I was there,” he said quietly, then turned to Vanna and Brynne. “Physician Reynolds is on his way,” he said.
Vanna’s hands were at her mouth in shock as she looked over at Carrie. “Oh, Gods, Carrie! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to …” she tried to say, but Carrie interrupted her.
“I’m fine, Vanna. No harm done,” she said. “Brynne, Jack’ll want to examine her. Take her through to her room, would you? It’ll save him time when he arrives.”
Brynne nodded. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked.
“Yes, fine. You see to Vanna.”
Lifting Vanna up despite her protests, he carried her from the room. At least the near-accident had taken Vanna’s attention away from her resentment of Brynne’s presence, Carrie thought as she closed her eyes and relaxed back in her chair. The incident had shaken her more than she realized. Kusac was fretting and mentally she reassured him she was fine.
“Can I get you a drink?” asked Dzaka, hovering beside her.
“Please,” she said. “A c’shar.” She found the rather bland drink more palatable than coffee these days.
*
When Garras arrived with Kusac, Carrie could feel his hackles rising as he looked over to where Brynne sat on the settee. She put her drink down on the side table and looked from one to the other.
“Jack’s in with Vanna just now. I don’t want any trouble between you two. You’d better start behaving civilly to each other,” she said. “I’ve no intention of letting either of you upset Vanna, or me for that matter, with your male posturing! You’re both responsible for Vanna in your own ways, and you’re both important to her. But Garras, the cub is Brynne’s, and as his father, he has the right to be here.”
The two males looked at her in surprise.
“Brynne, Garras is Vanna’s mate, don’t forget that,” she said tiredly. “If you want to be accorded your rights as a father, then makes sure you give Garras his as her mate. So you can both put your hackles down now—and yes, Brynne, you have hackles just as real as Garras has!”
She could feel Garras forcing himself to relax as he padded over to one of the other chairs. Brynne … well, he seemed to almost disappear mentally. Kusac joined her, perching on the arm of her chair and putting his arm round her shoulders.
A short time later, Jack emerged to ask them to arrange for Vanna to be taken to the medical unit at the Valsgarth Telepath Guild.
“There’s nothing to worry about, I simply want to be sure I’ve got the best equipment and staff to hand just in case. Carrie, I want you to stay here,” he said. “You’re too recognizable. If you come with us, it’ll only attract the newsnets. Besides, you need to rest. Go home. You look tired out.”
*
Dzaka was relieved shortly after Kusac and Garras joined Carrie at Vanna’s home. He went up to the dig to take Garras’ place as the imminent birth of Vanna’s cub brought back more memories than he could cope with.
He found the place where he’d been working before and, collecting his tools, was carefully scraping the soil away from a piece of an ancient vehicle, finding comfort in the mindless, repetitive work. The sound of a footfall close by disturbed his peace, then he recognized her scent. Kitra. He sighed. Lately he couldn’t turn round without finding her behind him. Not that he minded in one way, she was a bright kitling, always asking sensible questions. But it could be damned inconvenient having her following him at times.
“Lo, Dzaka,” she said, squatting down to one side of him. “Thought you’d be up at the villa with Carrie. Jack took Vanna off to the medical center to have her cub.”
He flicked an ear in greeting. “Is Vanna all right?” he asked, stopping what he was doing to look round at her.
“I think so. Jack said to Carrie that he wanted her to be safe, she didn’t really have to go. Do you think she’ll be all right?” There was a worried frown on her face.
“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” said Dzaka reassuringly. “She’s got plenty of experienced physicians round her at the center.”
“I suppose,” she said.
He returned to his scrapings, hoping she’d wander off and find someone else to talk to.
“What’s that?” she asked, her hand coming between him and the piece he was working on.
“A piece of a road vehicle.”
“Road vehicle?”
“They didn’t have ai
rcars back then, Kitra,” he explained. “Their vehicles ran on wheels.”
“There’s writing on it,” she said, her hand once more coming between him and his work. “What does it say?”
“I don’t know yet. I haven’t uncovered enough of it to show all the letters.”
“I could help,” she offered. “It would be finished twice as quickly.”
He stopped and looked round at her eager face. A wide-eyed amber gaze looked up hopefully at him.
“Please.”
He found it difficult to say anything but “All right.” He reached for the brush and handed it to her. “Here you are. You start brushing all the loose soil off that piece there, while I carry on digging it out.”
They continued working for about an hour, chatting companionably, until someone yelled, “C’shar! Come and get it!”
“I’m thirsty,” said Kitra. “Are you? Shall I go and get us a drink?”
“No. You stay here, I’ll get them,” said Dzaka. “I could do with stretching my legs. I’m a bit bigger than you and I’ve been sitting cramped up for too long!”
Kitra laughed, watching him get up and stretch before he ambled off to where a c’shar urn and mugs had been set up.
As he waited in the small queue, he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned round to find Rulla behind him.
“I’d be careful, if I were you, Dzaka,” he said. “Playing fast with the Liege’s little sister. Not a good idea.”
Dzaka frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, turning away from him. “She’s barely more than a cub. What do you think I am?”
“I think you’re presuming on our Liege’s good nature, that’s what.”
“Look,” Dzaka said, turning again. “She’s a child! She’s the one that’s following me around!”
“Then stop encouraging her,” Rulla growled, grasping him by the arm. “She’s the same age as that young Leska pair from the desert, she’s old enough! We’ve seen how she looks at you, so just make sure you leave her alone, hear me? There’s a couple of us watching out for her. You touch her, we’ll know about it.”
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