What kind of creature was she becoming?
She pinpointed Dayamar’s location before he spoke. “You needed to speak with me urgently, Blayne,” he said.
“Yes, Sehan Dayamar. It’s about Hope.”
Another visitor knocked at the door. “Gods,” Maya muttered. “Are we to have no peace? Come in!”
Varaya.
Hope waited to see if she was correct. She was.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Sehan Dayamar, but I…. I overheard something and I came to check on Hope. To f-find out whether she’s all right.” Varaya’s words tumbled out as though she half-expected to be dismissed.
“I’m fine,” Hope assured her. Hah. What a lie. There was nothing the least bit “fine” about this whole situation.
“Take a seat, Varaya,” Dayamar said.
“She has nothing to do with the Seeing.”
Maya sounded snippy. Hope guessed there was no love lost between the two women. Too, she sensed Varaya’s weary acceptance of Maya’s attitude, the belief that she deserved such treatment.
Hope couldn’t let it slide. “I have had a vision of Varaya, too, Maya. Varaya was present and I described it to her.”
“Sit, Varaya,” Dayamar said. “You’ll have valuable information to share if you’ve been present during one of Hope’s Seeings.
Varaya took a seat next to Hope and briefly squeezed her hand. Hope felt her tremble. She suddenly wished she’d kept quiet and hadn’t involved her friend in this discussion. Too late now.
“Tell us what happened, Varaya,” Dayamar said.
Varaya’s voice wobbled as she related the incident. “I was really scared,” she finished. “But then she came back to herself and acted like nothing had happened.”
“What did you See, Hope?” Dayamar asked.
She heaved a sigh. Pointless to try and hide anything from the old man when he could rummage about in her mind. She related her vision with as much detail as she could recall.
“She described the dress I had made for my Promising,” Varaya said. “She wouldn’t tell me what the man she saw looked like, though.”
“Rightly so,” Dayamar said. “Hope should not influence your choice, Varaya. No more questions about this man. Is that clear?”
He spoke in clipped, no-nonsense tones and Hope got the sense of Varaya ducking her head like a chastened child. But before she could speak up on her friend’s behalf he said, “It’s not the first Seeing you’ve had since you arrived here, is it, Hope?”
She swallowed another sigh. “No, Dayamar. I saw Maya and Cayl at her father’s burial.” She fluttered a hand at Maya in tacit apology.
“I am given to understand that Seeing occurred after you drank sekar.”
“Yes. I was thirsty and drank a lot of it. I felt dizzy. Maya hugged me when she said goodbye. That is when I had the vision.”
“Interesting. I believe the liquor lowered your inhibitions and opened your mind to the potential to See. And then touch triggered the Seeing.”
“Hmm.” Maya seemed to be mulling his words. “I’d hugged her, and she was comforting Varaya.”
“Touch is the key, then,” Cayl said. He’d been quiet for so long Hope had almost forgotten he was there. “Would you agree Sehan Dayamar?”
“Perhaps.”
“It happened like that with my sister when she first became Sehani,” Maya said, and Hope could clearly hear the underlying pain threaded through her words. “The Seeings would come when she touched someone.”
“Katya was a fragile soul,” Dayamar said. “She wasn’t strong enough to contain or control her gift.”
Hope winced at the blunt summation.
“And she is?” Maya said. “Look at her! How do you think she’s going to cope with becoming Sehani? Look me in right the eye Sehan Dayamar, and tell me she won’t be overwhelmed by it, too.”
“I am strong,” Hope said, keeping her tone level but determined to have her say. “I had to be to cope with losing my family and my sight in one foul swoop.”
“Gods,” Maya said. “I’m sorry, Hope. I didn’t mean to suggest—”
“I know. And I understand. Do not worry yourself about it.”
“How do you explain the incident with Willem?” Blayne said. “I would hardly describe what she did to him as Seeing.”
“Incident?” Dayamar’s tone was sharp enough to cut. “Did he harm you, Hope?”
“Not really. At the time I was frightened but the fear has passed.” That much was the truth. Given the outrage she’d encountered over Willem’s actions, it was obvious such behavior was neither frequent or condoned in Dayamari society. She’d been unlucky—in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The old man blew out an audible breath that smacked of relief.
“I am more resilient than you realize, Dayamar. It will take more than one drunk man pawing me to make me cower in my boots and render me incapable of going about my business.” It was a brave speech. Unfortunately she spoiled the effect by jerking and biting back a squeak when Blayne squeezed her hand.
Varaya gave a muffled giggle and even Dayamar laughed. “I’m pleased to hear it. Tell me what else happened with Willem.”
Once again she related the incident. Her voice cracked as she recalled the power coursing through her.
Blayne draped his arm across her shoulders and she leaned into him, grateful for his support. “Willem is a drunkard and a coward,” he said. “I intend to petition the elders for him to be severely disciplined.”
His emotions played over her skin like tiny pricking needles. Suppressed fury. When he next encountered Willem he would make the man’s life a misery.
Memories coursed through her mind. They were not hers. They were Willem’s. And although she couldn’t condone his behavior she understood what drove him… and she pitied him. “What I felt inside and what I did is what truly scares me, Blayne—not Willem’s behavior,” she felt compelled to say.
“The man will likely be banished after this incident,” Dayamar said. “It’s not the first time he has acted inappropriately toward women. Describe again what you felt, Hope.”
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly desert-dry, heart pounding in her chest. It was a struggle to verbalize what she had felt so that others could understand. “I-I felt empty. There was a loud noise in my head. Something filled me up. It hurt. Then it left me and he—Willem—was gone, like someone had lifted him off me. But we were still joined together somehow.” And she feared they were still joined, for she could sense him—a tickling sensation at the periphery of her mind.
“Gerayne told me Willem was on the ground, unable to move or speak. He said when I… when I released Willem, he passed out.”
“You’re strong, young woman,” Dayamar said. “Very strong.”
“I do not know what I did. I did not mean to, but I hurt him somehow. Is he recovered? Does anyone know?”
“Cayl, go to the Healing Hall and check how Willem fares,” Dayamar ordered. “Have a healer guard him closely until the elders send for him.”
“Very well, Sehan Dayamar.” Cayl surged to his feet and left the room at a run.
Blayne was a healer, used to observing his patients’ body language. He knew Dayamar was shocked by what Hope had related. Perhaps even Dayamar had failed to foresee Hope’s strength and innate ability. He tightened his grip on her shoulders. He hadn’t considered that she could be a wild talent, an unknown entity. What if Dayamar couldn’t train her?
His gaze lingered on her, drinking her in. With her pale face, bleeding cheek, and a nose reddened from crying, she looked too fragile to be the receptacle of such awe-inspiring powers. Only her golden eyes marked her and set her apart. Some would say she had been “blessed” by the gods. Blayne was beginning to think it more a curse—for them both. He didn’t want to lose her to Dayamar and the demands of the settlement. But he knew her training was crucial. He couldn’t hold her back. Her life, and the safety of others, depended on how quickly and h
ow well she learned to harness her powers and control them.
“Where I come from I am not a Sehan—” Hope began to say.
“We will discuss that later,” Dayamar said.
“That kit is already out of the sack, Sehan Dayamar,” Maya said. “Blayne, Cayl and I already know what you’re trying to hide.” She dismissed his quelling glance with an airy wave of her hand. “And I’m sure Varya’s trustworthy. Aren’t you, Varaya?”
Varaya gulped at the veiled threat and nodded.
Blayne tensed. “Maya—”
“This is my home. And I’ll say what I like.”
“Maya!” He would have admired her guts if he hadn’t been concerned for her welfare. She seemed to be daring Dayamar to exercise his status and prevent her from saying her piece. This situation was escalating into something personal that would be better handled privately—preferably after Maya had recovered from her father’s death and wasn’t so emotionally volatile.
She didn’t heed his warning. “We already know Sehan Dayamar stole Hope from another world,” she announced.
Blayne resisted the desire to bury his face in his hands and groan. What was Maya thinking, provoking Dayamar like this? It wouldn’t end well.
Varaya clutched Hope’s arm, her eyes round with awe. “Truly? You’re from another world?”
“Truly.”
“Gods, that’s incredible! Tell me everything. Is your world like ours? Do you want to go back? I—”
“I would like to know exactly how you discovered this little known fact, Maya.” Dayamar fixed her with his piercing golden gaze.
To her credit, Maya didn’t flinch. “Hope told us of course. When I asked her how she came to Dayamaria she straight out told me you brought her here Sehan Dayamar. Why would you do that? Snatch a young woman from her home?”
Blayne suspected the only reason the old man didn’t subject Maya to a tongue-lashing she’d never forget—and use his powers to deprive her of her wagging tongue until she learned to hold it—was because he knew Maya had never forgiven him for Katya’s death. Maya still believed Dayamar should have been able to save her sister. And deep down, perhaps the old Sehan believed it too.
“She didn’t mean to give away your secrets—it was the sekar,” Maya said, belatedly realizing she might have gotten Hope into a heap of trouble.
“Please, Dayamar,” Hope begged, “would it not be helpful for me to know why I have been brought here?”
Blayne darted a glance Dayamar and glimpsed the smallest of satisfied smiles playing about his lips. Interesting.
“It seems I’m outnumbered,” Dayamar said. “But if you’re to truly understand the why of it, you must first understand what we are, and how we came to be.”
“We?”
“You and me. Sehani. I will tell you of our history.”
“More tea, anyone?” Maya asked, her too-bright tone inexpertly hiding relief.
“I’d recommend you say yes,” Blayne told Hope. “Knowing Dayamar’s love of history, this won’t be the short version.”
“You would be correct.” Dayamar rubbed his hands with mock glee. “And anyone who believes they may be bored is welcome to depart.”
No one moved.
Dayamar took a sip of his tea and cleared his throat. “In the beginning, our gods lived amongst us. They were three, Shikari the Hunter, Kunnandi the Trickster and Wisa the Soothsayer. Sometimes they took the guise of humans, other times they took animal forms. But whatever their forms, they were recognizable by their glowing golden eyes.
“Shikari was our father-figure. Strong, loyal and fearless—protector of our people. He taught us to live off the land, to know the seasons, to hunt animals for their meat and hides, to build shelters and make tools. Shikari’s animal guise was a great silver wolf.
“Wisa was our mother-figure. Loving, nurturing, kind—seer of both the past and future. She taught us the nature of men and women, and how to live and work together. She was wise in the lore of herbs and plants. A white owl was her favored guise.
“Kunnandi was full of cunning and laughter. He taught us that death is not to be feared, for we do not pass from this world without influencing the people around us in some way, and we live forever in the memories of our loved ones. Kunnandi chose a venomous red-banded black serpent as his animal guise.
“The land was fertile. The people were prosperous and content. They respected the land and the wildlife. They watched the seasons turn and became skilled in herb- and plant-lore. The women bore many children, and they were healthy and strong. The gods called them the Kiyusari, which means ‘Chosen People’, and watched over them. Life was good.
“And then a girl-child with golden eyes was born. The elders feared the child was possessed by an evil spirit. They took the baby from her mother and left her on a rocky outcrop, exposed to nature and the will of their gods. But the grieving mother had secretly followed them. She held her child and prayed that death would come quickly for them both.
“Kunnandi heard the baby’s cries and came to the mother in his human form. He vowed the gods would raise the girl-child as their own. He bade the young woman return to her people and tell them infants born with golden eyes were blessed by the gods, and must be revered. Then Kunnandi took the baby and vanished.
“Wisa and Shikari were enchanted by the child and named her Dayama. Under their tutelage she grew wise, with a joy of life that rivaled Kunnandi’s. But as Dayama neared maturity, she became troubled by strange visions. She foresaw that her beloved gods would forsake the land and no longer walk amongst their people. Filled with anguish and despair, she threw herself into a river and drowned.
“The gods blamed themselves for her senseless death. And then they blamed each other. They fought, and their conflict created an upheaval in the fabric of the land. The earth shook. Unseasonable rains lashed the land, flooding the rivers. Great thunderstorms rushed across the darkened skies. Lightning strikes sparked bushfires that devastated the land. The wildlife fled and the Kiyusari were forced to cower in caves.
“The people importuned their gods. ‘We are hungry and afraid. Our land is being destroyed. What have we done to anger you? Please help us!’ But the gods were deaf to their pleas until one brave young man ventured outside. He sat on a blackened stump—all that remained of the great forest that had once bordered his settlement—and prayed for his people’s salvation.
“Finally, on the morning of the third day, the conflict ceased and the land became calm. The gods sent the young man a vision that changed him forever. From that moment on his eyes were golden, and he could see the past and the future. He told his people the gods understood their conflict and grief for their beloved Dayama had almost destroyed their people. They had vowed to give up their earthly forms, and would no longer walk amongst the Kiyusari. As all children must learn to make their own way in the world, the Kiyusari must learn to fend for themselves.
“One by one, the Kiyusari ventured from the caves. At first they despaired, wondering how they would survive. But they were resilient and remembered what they had been taught. They renamed themselves Dayamari, or ‘Dayama’s People’, in memory of the first Sehan who had chosen death rather than live without her gods. They rebuilt their shattered lives and as time passed, the people and the land again prospered. And once in a while there would be sightings of a huge silver wolf, a white owl, or a red-banded black serpent—all with glowing golden eyes. And in every generation children with golden eyes were born—Sehans—reminding the people that their gods watched over them and their land would never again suffer.”
Blayne had heard the story before but Hope’s rapt expression made him consider it through new eyes.
“It reminds me of the creation myths from my world,” she said. “But what has it to do with me?”
“It’s more than a myth, Hope,” Blayne told her, anxious for her to understand the importance of the legacy she’d inherited by default. “Dayama was the first of the Dayamari Sehani. Wh
en she died, our land almost died too. Until you came, Dayamar was the last of the Sehani. No one had transformed to take Katya’s place.”
“I have foreseen the end of my days,” Dayamar said. “Our people must have a Sehan to guide and protect them. You are that Sehan, Hope.”
“Why? What is so important about Sehani?”
“Sehani are our link with our gods,” Dayamar explained. “For generations the Sehani line has remained unbroken and our land has prospered. But the histories record a time, many hundreds of years ago, when no new Sehan was born for a generation.”
“What happened then?” Hope leaned forward, eager to hear more of the tale.
“The land mourned. The earth spewed fire. Ash blackened the sky and hid the sun for days. Many Dayamari perished. It took the survivors generations to recover from the land’s despair.”
Hope jerked back as Dayamar’s words slapped her. The weight of their beliefs, their expectations, pressed down on her. “You truly believe your land and your people will suffer if you die and there is no one to take your place. That is why you brought me here.”
“Yes.” His blunt response was shocking as a face full of cold water.
“We all do,” Blayne said.
Anxiety tickled her mind—not her own. She sensed Dayamar hadn’t revealed the whole truth. Very well. She would bide her time until she was alone with him, and then she would demand answers. He had promised to tell her one thing, though. Damned if she would let that slide. “How did you bring me here?”
“I fasted and meditated for many days. On the fifth day a vision came to me. I took a powerful herb to alter my state of being and my spirit left its physical shell to cross the boundary between worlds. I traveled many worlds before I found you. And then, to my horror, I was forced to witness your struggle for survival. I feared you might die, and that all would be lost. But you survived. It took me two more years before I had strength enough to call you to the opening between our worlds and bring you here and without the aid of our gods I would have failed. My knowledge would have been lost forever.”
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