Seer's Hope

by Anderson, Maree

  “You’re the only person I know who’s from another world. And a man of my importance couldn’t Promise to just any woman, could he?”

  She smacked him with the palm of her hand for teasing her, and then soothed the small hurt with her lips. “What else do you know?”

  “I know your parents are dead.” He turned her hand palm up to plant a kiss. “As are mine. My mother died giving birth to me. And my father died in a hunting accident when I was a boy.”

  “That must have been hard for you, losing your parents so young.”

  “What happened to your parents?”

  “My family died in a… a….” There was no Dayamaru word for “car” or “vehicle”. “They died in a bad accident, along with my two brothers. I was the only survivor. I lost my family and my sight that night.”

  He said nothing, merely hugged her tight and held her while the pain bit deep, as it always did. She was grateful. Explaining further would be too much to bear.

  Eventually he said, “I know I wasn’t the first man you’ve been with.”

  Uh oh. This could get interesting. She hoped he wasn’t big on double standards or they’d be having their first argument. “No you were not.”

  “How many other lovers have you had?”

  “Many. More than thirty.”

  “Really?” She felt him jerk in surprise. “But you’re so young.”

  “I am twenty—not so young. And not really thirty men.”

  “Good.”

  She rolled her eyes. “One lover is all. We parted after I lost my sight. There have been none since the accident. I could not be close to anyone like that afterward.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “In my world I have many possessions and much wealth. But I do not want men to feel sorry for me. Nor do I want men who only covet my wealth. It is hard to tell whether they want me or what I own. And it is easier, safer, to have no man.”

  “Why me, after all that time?”

  “You were kind, gentle. You held me in the night to comfort me. You taught me, cared for me. I liked you very much. I thought perhaps you liked me, too. But I did not believe you would make the first move so I took matters into my own hands.” Her face heated at the memory.

  “I’m very glad you did.”

  She giggled at his fervent tone. “And I am glad you did not mind my forward behavior.”

  “No man with a pulse would have minded your forward behavior. Do you want to know how old I am and how many women I’ve slept with?

  “I do not care about your other women.”

  “There haven’t been so many—despite what Cayl says.”

  “Good.”

  She felt his chest vibrating with silent laughter. “I began training as a healer at age ten. Now I’m twenty-four.”

  “So old.” She squealed when he grabbed her, holding her down and tickling her so unmercifully she was left gasping. And then he kissed her, and the urgency of the lips on her skin and the hands that skimmed her body, told her what he wanted.

  She wanted it too, so much that she ached with the wanting. She stroked his hard flesh. “Not so old after all,” she murmured.

  ~~~

  Hope sat cross-legged on the mat, struggling to come to grips with the current lesson. And trying not to dwell on the porridge incident. She’d burned her hand while trying to cook breakfast over the hearth. Her swearing had brought Blayne running from the washroom, and he’d been forced to minister to her and clean up the mess. She scowled. So much for surprising him with breakfast.

  “Concentrate, Hope.”

  “I am sorry, Dayamar.” She shouldn’t allow herself to be distracted. Sehani training could be difficult to the point of impossibility at times. This was one of those times.

  She quieted her mind and accessed the trance-like state Dayamar had taught her. Picturing a scene, she held it in her mind until she had every minute detail clearly defined. That was the easy part.

  She slowly extended one hand. Then she allowed a portion of her mind to disengage and visualize a ball of pure light floating just above her palm. Sweat beaded her brow as she concentrated on transferring the scene in her mind into the light-ball. A soft whoosh confirmed she had succeeded. Then slowly, so slowly it was an agony, she allowed the ball to expand and—

  It burst with a loud bang that made her ears ring. “Blast!”

  “Don’t fret, my dear,” Dayamar said, his tone meant to soothe. “I’m amazed at your progress. It took many weeks before I could access the trance-state for any length of time, yet you accomplished that in barely half an hour. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  She attempted to explain her difficulty. “The trance state is easy. But I cannot see the light-ball, so I do not know when it is expanding too quickly.”

  “Hmm. Perhaps do not try to see the light, try to sense it instead. Trust your senses, Hope. Perhaps if you didn’t close your eyes, either. You’re fortunate because you cannot be distracted by what your eyes physically see.”

  Fortunate? Hardly. She tried again. Imagine the scene, conjure the light, transfer and enlarge….

  This time the sensation was different, and it was almost like she was floating above her body, watching herself perform the task. The light above her hand throbbed and then puffed outward to form a large globe with the scene she held in her mind vividly depicted inside it. She’d done it.

  She could hear Dayamar praising her success but she remained oddly detached, emotionless. A portion of her mind constricted the sphere until it disappeared with tiny pop.

  She observed Dayamar shaking her arm, calling her name. Her physical body, seated before him, felt no desire to respond. Another part of her understood there was another way to communicate with her tutor—a far more efficient way than relying on vocal chords. She inserted her thoughts directly into his mind.

  Dayamar, it is me, Hope.

  She watched the silvery coil of his seer-senses leap from his body to sweep the room. Her own sensory perception expanded and she could see the colors flickering about his physical body. His aura? That would be the most logical explanation.

  I am here, she told him. Above myself and above you. I am floating free… light… so light. It is wonderful!

  Try to rejoin your body. His tone was calm but his colors danced about like an agitated rainbow.

  I do not want to rejoin my body. I want to stay free, peaceful….

  You must try.

  She glanced down at her physical body, thinking it frail, cumbersome. Unbidden, thoughts of Blayne flooded her mind. The way he touched her when they made love. His kisses. His tenderness and concern. Her physical body seemed to tug at her. A rushing sensation coursing through her… and then she was diving into her body. As the two parts merged the impact was profound. She slumped forward, dry retching and clutching her stomach.

  “It appears you’ve mastered the art of leaving your body.” Dayamar’s tone was matter-of-fact. “It takes much training and preparation before an acolyte is ready to attempt this. If one lacks the strength of will to return to one’s physical body, the body will sicken and die.”

  She raised her aching head and stifled a groan. “What happens to the soul that cannot come back to its body?”

  “Do you understand what I mean by a phantom?”

  She shook her head, not recognizing the word.

  “Janus’s spirit was neither part of the physical world nor the spiritual when you spoke to him. If he had not followed the gods and journeyed onward, he would have been cast adrift—neither part of the physical world or the spiritual. A phantom.”

  He spoke as a teacher lecturing to a student but she could sense something else, some strong underlying emotion he sought to suppress. Fear?

  No. Horror. Why would discussion of phantoms disturb him so? Unless—

  “This is what you fear will happen to Dayamari.”

  “You’re very intuitive. A phantom may eventually sever its ties to this world. But I fear the d
arkness contaminating our incorporeal world will consume us all and trap our spirits on this plane.”

  The bleak silence unsettled her, and then he said, “Hope, what made you want to rejoin your physical body? Tell me what you were thinking.”

  “I was thinking of Blayne.”

  “Ah.”

  She sensed his satisfaction and wondered at it. Could he be pleased by her relationship with Blayne? Perhaps he wished to encourage it for his own ends. A frisson skated down her spine as she recalled her reaction the first time Blayne had introduced himself. She’d seen a vision of her future—a future inextricably intertwined with his. Could Dayamar have foreseen that same future? What else might he have Seen?

  A knock sounded at the door. “Enter,” Dayamar called.

  “Is Hope finished for today, Sehan Dayamar?”

  “Yes, Varaya.” He assisted Hope to rise. “You have done well, my dear. It becomes apparent that tasks I find easy are more difficult for you. Conversely, you find difficult tasks simple. Perhaps your blindness has a greater effect on your innate abilities than I imagined. I will have to meditate on this some more. Shoo, now.” He ushered her in Varaya’s direction with a gentle push. “This old man needs to rest.”

  Varaya grabbed her arm and towed her from the hall before dissolving in giggles. “Whatever have you been doing to poor Dayamar? I never thought I’d see the day he shooed off an apprentice.”

  “It is a little difficult to explain, Varaya.”

  “I bet. Hey, who gave you that necklace? It’s gorgeous! But… do you know what the color signifies?”

  “Blayne gave it to me. Last night.” She held her breath, hoping Varaya would not be hurt by the significance the gift. “It is a gift for his Promise to me. I gave him a ring in return.”

  “What’s a ‘ring’?”

  She displayed her rings and explained the significance of the one she had given Blayne.

  Varaya hugged her. “I’m pleased for you both.”

  Hope sensed her delight was genuine and allowed herself to relax. “What happened with Roban? He is a good lover?”

  “Who? Roban? I wish. Willem was right after all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Roban was using me to make his male lover jealous.” Varaya huffed a sharp breath through her nose. “I can’t believe I didn’t catch on sooner. I must be losing my touch. I’d better find a life-partner soon or I’ll be a laughing stock. Please will you point me in the right direction when it comes to choosing a man?”

  “I cannot influence your choices.”

  “I know. But it was worth a try.” Varaya’s laugh was tinged with sadness. “So who do you want to meet first—others from my dormayre, or some more tradespeople?”

  “I would really like to wash my hair. I never got around to it this morning.” She explained her incident with the porridge and held out her hand for inspection. “And now Blayne says I should keep it out of the water for the next couple of days until it heals.”

  Varaya inspected her hand. “Are you sure you burned it?”

  “I spilled hot porridge over myself. It was very painful. The skin is not blistered?”

  “No. I think you healed it.”

  Hope’s pleasure in this accomplishment was dampened by her friend’s subdued tone. “Varaya, I am still me. I would never hurt you. You are my friend—my best friend.” She clutched her arm. “Please. I need you to be my friend. I need you not to fear me.”

  “I am your friend. It’s just— Sometimes I forget what you are. And that’s very unusual, you know? I mean, Dayamar commands respect. Everyone knows what he’s capable of. Everyone knows he can take care of himself and anything that gets in his way. He is Sehani first and foremost, so we don’t get too close to him. But you—”

  “I know. I am weak. I need people, need friends.”

  “You’re not weak for needing people.” Varaya seemed to be struggling for the right words. “You’re just… different. You’re powerful—we’ve seen that. But not in the same way Dayamar is. We clamor to help you because we know you need us. I think that’s a strength. In a way I think you’re more powerful because you do need us. Dayamar’s never needed anyone.” She squeezed Hope’s hand and gave a self-conscious giggle. “That was quite a, uh, profound observation for someone like me, wasn’t it?”

  “You should not put yourself down like that, Varaya. You are an intelligent woman.” She mulled her friend’s words… and discounted them. No way could she ever be more powerful than Dayamar. No way could she ever replace him.

  After Varaya helped wash her hair, Hope dried off and pulled on her tunic.

  “It’s on backward,” Varaya said.

  “Really? I was sure I had it right this time.”

  “It must be very hard. Being blind.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “How did you manage at home? Where you lived before, I mean.”

  Hope towel-dried her hair. “Most of the time I stayed home. But I had a friend of my mother’s visit often. She’s known me for many years and became a close friend. She would sometimes cook a main meal for me, too. She was always worried about me eating properly. And there was a woman who cleaned the house and a man to tend the garden because both were too large for me to handle on my own.”

  “Did your family ever visit?”

  “My mother and brothers died. I have no other family.”

  “You must have been so lonely. I’m glad Dayamar brought you here. We’re your family now.”

  Warmth pooled in her heart. Varaya was a good friend.

  “Your hair is a mess of tangles,” Varaya said.

  “I do not have a comb. I wanted to cut it but Blayne would not let me.”

  Varaya snorted. “The man has some sense at least. It could do with a trim, though. I’d do it myself but I can’t cut a straight line to save myself. I know, we’ll go see Treya and kill two birds with one stone. You’ll like Treya. I got to know her before she was Joined. She’s very sweet—not a nasty bone in her body.”

  It was a short stroll to Treya’s dwelling. Varaya ushered Hope through an open doorway. “Treya? I’ve brought someone to meet you.”

  The woman who greeted them had such unusually slow and heavy footfalls Hope wondered whether she was obese.

  “Lovely to see you, Varaya. I’m sorry to disappoint you but I’m not taking on any clients at the moment— Oh!”

  “Hello, Treya,” Hope said. “I am sorry if we intrude.”

  “No, no, Sehan Hope. I’m using my pregnancy as an excuse to be lazy. I get tired quickly these days, and some of my customers can be rather… demanding.”

  Varaya huffed a laugh. “Ignore that last comment. She couldn’t possibly be referring to me. Treya is the best with hair, Hope. She also does body-painting for celebrations. Treya, would you believe Blayne hasn’t even given this poor girl her own comb? Men.”

  Treya choked on laughter at the outrage in Varaya’s voice. “I saw Blayne earlier this morning when he came to check on me. If I’d known he was so remiss I’d have given him a piece of my mind.”

  “I usually plait my hair to keep it out of my way,” Hope said. “But I have just washed it so it is a bit unmanageable.”

  “If it’s annoying you I can cut it short.” Treya fingered a lock of Hope’s hair. “It’d be a pity, but it’s entirely up to you.”

  “Blayne would never forgive me if I let you cut it all off,” Varaya piped up.

  “I do not think he would forgive me, either,” Hope admitted. “But even though it is my choice I would like to keep it long.”

  “Good. After you wash it, you should comb conditioner through the ends to keep it manageable. Blayne’s an excellent herbalist. He can make some up for you but I’ll give you a supply in the meantime. And you need a good quality comb—of your own. Not one of those nasty wooden ones. I’ll find one for you to keep. It can be my welcoming gift for you.”

  Hope ran her fingertips over the handle of the bone comb
Treya presented to her. “What are these circles please?”

  “The repetitive circular designs represent an owl. One circle for the head, ovals for wings, two smaller circles for claws, all enclosed by a large circle for the body. The design has a lot of significance for women. The owl is the chosen of Wisa, our goddess and Mother figure, and the circles also represent the cycle of birth, life and death.”

  “It’s a beautiful piece,” Varaya added.

  “Uh uh. Keep your hands off it you greedy thing. This one’s for Sehan Hope.”

  Hope giggled. “Thank you, Treya. It is a gift I will treasure.”

  Treya combed out the tangles and trimmed Hope’s hair. Then she pinned front locks of hair back with a couple of ornately carved smaller combs that had long teeth. “You can keep these, too. They should keep your hair out of your face when it’s not plaited.”

  “Thank you so much, Treya.”

  “My pleasure, Sehan Hope. You’re the easiest client I’ve had in a while—unlike this creature next to you.”

  “Humph.”

  “Ignore her,” Treya said. “She knows I’m right. Can I get you tea and something to eat? It’s no trouble.”

  “Hope’s been with Dayamar all morning so she hasn’t eaten since breakfast,” Varaya said. “But let me get it, Treya. You look like you could do with a break.” She bustled off into the next room.

  “Sehan Hope?”

  “Just Hope, please.”

  “Hope, would you do me a favor? I have an ache in my back that I can’t reach. Any chance you could give it a rub?”

  “Of course.” She moved until she was kneeling behind Treya’s stool. She felt a little self-conscious as she fumbled for the pregnant woman’s shoulders, but Treya didn’t seem to mind her clumsiness. She eased her palms slowly down Treya’s spine until, in her mind’s eye, she could detected a smudge of shadow. As she concentrated, the smudge morphed to a pulsing, dim green blob. She probed the spot, and knew she’d hit the mark when Treya winced and groaned.

  “Yes, there.”

  She dug her thumbs into the tight knot, feeling the tight muscles relax and the knot disperse beneath the pressure of her fingers. The green shade faded.

  “Thanks. That feels much better. You have a knack for finding the right spot.”