“Surprise!” everyone yelled just as Wisa, Blayne, Hope, and her adoptive family materialized in the center of the gathering area.
“Grieving gods, Kunnandi.” Wisa’s hand fluttered above her heart. “Did you have to do that? I almost died of fright.”
“Stop being so dramatic. You’re a goddess—you can’t die.” He flung both arms outward. “Hope and Blayne, how do you like your celebration? You can thank Maya for this. It was her idea.”
Blayne grabbed Maya and hugged her. “Thank you.”
“I had help,” Maya said, sounding flustered.
“Next time, Blayne, please do us a favor and give her more notice,” Kunnandi piped up.
She blushed a wonderful shade of pink. “I wasn’t that hard on you all, was I?”
“We’ll get over it,” Kunnandi told her. “Eventually.”
“Ignore him,” Wisa advised. “I certainly do.”
Now he was free to do as he pleased, Kunnandi turned his attention to the First Elder and made it his personal mission to get Varon roaring drunk. He was so successful the First Elder joined the dancing and made an utter fool of himself. As the evening progressed, Varon became increasingly befuddled. Finally he crawled under a trestle table. His snores were most impressive.
“He’ll have a massive headache tomorrow,” Shikari said.
“That was the idea.” Kunnandi grinned evilly, and then snapped his fingers and sent Varon back to his quarters.
~~~
“Goodnight, you two.” Varaya’s fingertips lingered on Willem’s arm. “I think I’ll head back to the dormayre.” The sultry, come-hither look she threw Willem before she sauntered off caused the man to completely lose track of what he had been about to say to Blayne.
Blayne took pity on him. “You should walk Varaya home. It’s dark and she might be a bit scared.”
“Good idea. Goodnight, then.”
Willem hurried off, leaving Blayne trying to suppress his laughter until Willem was safely out of earshot. Varaya had never been afraid of the dark in her life. He glanced around until he spotted Hope. His Promised sat cross-legged on the ground, deep in conversation with Wisa. He sauntered over to eavesdrop.
“Tell me why you healed my infertility, Wisa. Doesn’t this pregnancy jeopardize what I must do?”
“My dear, you credit us with entirely too much meddling. What do you know about the differences between your Earth and Dayamaria—other than obvious technological ones?”
“I had trouble breathing when I first arrived and I remember Dayamar saying the air here is slightly different.”
“That’s one way of putting it. A spore is present in the air. For the majority of humans there are no side effects at all. But for some, this spore causes physical anomalies—gold eyes and a self-healing ability are common. These people are also given the ability to interact with their world differently. To see past and future possibilities, manipulate matter, discern aureyas—so-called ‘magical’ abilities. Hence those the Dayamari call Sehani. Hence you, Hope.”
“I’m the way I am now because of a spore?” Hope huffed a sharp breath through her nose. “It’s easier to believe you are responsible, Wisa. That’s what Dayamar preaches, after all. Are you saying he doesn’t know about this spore?”
“Of course he knows. The spore is an ancient life-form that was present when this world was first formed. It has evolved along with humans. We have no control over exactly who it affects, or how it interacts with its human host, but most Sehani do share common ancestry. As many Sehans before him, Dayamar prefers to attribute the spore’s effects to gods, rather than attempting to explain the complex biological processes involved.”
Hope scrunched up her nose and Blayne’s lips twitched at her expression. He wondered if Wisa found it as endearing as he did.
“But I’m from Earth,” she said. “How can I possibly share common ancestry with Dayamari?”
“You don’t. You’re an anomaly, Hope. And we give heartfelt thanks to whatever entity is responsible for your existence. According to Dayamar your Sehani potential was vast, but none of us knew what the result of bringing you into contact with the spore would be.” Wisa hesitated, as though gathering her thoughts. “I believe that because the spore had to alter your physiology so drastically if you were to survive here, as part of the process it targeted anything and everything it found that required healing. Whatever it was that made you infertile, whether it was internal scarring or some other cause, was healed as a part of your adaptation to the spore.”
Blayne got the distinct impression his all-seeing all-knowing goddess wasn’t too happy about resorting to supposition.
“And as for your pregnancy.” The goddess shrugged eloquently. “You are in all respects a healthy young woman. And I can only presume that young man lurking behind me is taking regular advantage of you. You were not taking precautions, so what else would you expect? Don’t you agree, Blayne?”
He felt his face flush like a youngling caught with his fingers in the syrup flask. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just, uh, waiting for Hope.”
“I’m sure you were,” Wisa informed him tartly. “Does confirmation of the spore’s existence surprise you, Panakeya?”
He rubbed his chin. “I gleaned small clues from the histories. Eventually I discovered all Sehani were related through the one male ancestor. Please forgive my frankness, Exalted One, but although I have faith in the my gods, as a healer I must also look elsewhere for answers. For some years now I’ve suspected those ‘blessed by the gods’ had been affected by some biological factor as well.”
He held back from voicing his suspicion that because Hope had been physically altered by the spore, she might no longer be able to survive on her home-world. Surely Dayamar also suspected as much. He pushed that disturbing thought to the back of his mind. It didn’t matter. Her home was here, now. With him.
Wisa nodded. “You are worthy to bear the title Panakeya.”
He tossed her a sharp look, wondering whether she’d read his thoughts. But the goddess’s closed expression gave him no clues. “Respectfully, I have a question.”
“Go ahead, Blayne.”
“If the spore could diagnose and heal Hope’s infertility, why couldn’t it give her back her sight?”
“All I can say to that is all will be revealed in time.” Wisa rose and brushed down her skirt. “It’s time for my brothers and I to depart. These forms are too enticing.” She directed a baleful glare at the still-carousing Kunnandi. The god’s hands were both occupied, one squeezing a pert young woman’s bottom and the other quaffing sekar.
“Boys,” she called. “Time to go. Now!”
Shikari materialized at her side. When she received no response from Kunnandi, she snapped her fingers.
The god appeared beside her, choking on his drink. “I wish you wouldn’t do that, Wisa.”
“Time to go. We’ve stayed too long already.” She glared down her nose at him. “Obviously.”
Kunnandi gestured and his drink disappeared. “Better?”
“Much. Now where’s Dayamar gotten to?”
The old Sehan strode toward them. “It’s time for you to go.”
“Yes. But first, a gift for you, Hope.” Wisa made a fist. When she opened her hand a small black pebble-sized gem was nestled atop her palm.
“Here, my dear.” The goddess handed the gem to Hope. “Keep this stone on your person at all times. It will light your way and give you hope when all about you seems dark and hopeless.”
Hope tucked it away in the pouch hanging at her waist. “Must you leave?”
“Yes. But first there’s a little cleaning up to do.” Wisa’s eyes unfocussed for a second and there were startled exclamations as people, tables, food and drink disappeared. The lights extinguished, and the whole area plunged into darkness.
“Goodbye, my dearest ones,” Blayne heard Wisa whisper.
“Goodbye,” Shikari rumbled.
“’Bye!”
<
br /> Hope squeaked and rubbed her bottom. “Someone pinched me!”
“Kunnandi.” Wisa’s scolding voice echoed about them.
Blayne blinked and found himself by the sleeping platform in his room, with Hope in his arms. He didn’t need to be told twice. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her.
~~~
In the silence of her mind, Hope asked, “Who am I?”
There was no enlightening response—not that she’d truly expected one.
In simpler times, she’d been Hope Leah Delamore, a dearly loved daughter and sister. A tragic accident had stolen her family and her sight, transforming her into a lonely young woman burdened with being named the sole beneficiary of her family’s substantial estate. Next she’d been a stranded traveler in an alien world. And now, Second Sehan of the Dayamari, and Promised of their Panakeya.
She’d allowed herself to be distracted again. So much for meditation. Sighing, she gave up and began some basic yoga stretches. Due to her status she wasn’t given the opportunity to do much of anything on her own anymore. Thank the gods Dayamar understood her need for occasional solitude and gave her use of the Sehani Hall for an hour each morning—accompanied by a decree that no one was allowed to bother her unless it was an emergency. She took full advantage of that all-too-short hour, using the time to center herself before she began her daily rounds.
She made a rude sound. Supposedly her rounds were an opportunity for the average Dayamari to benefit from Sehani wisdom. So-called spiritual problems were laid before her like some holy offering, accompanied by the expectation she would impart some enlightening gem of wisdom in return.
Wisdom and enlightenment? Phooey. Most people, she’d discovered, merely wanted someone to tell them what to do instead of thinking through problems on their own. She was quite sure Dayamar had passed this duty on to her because he was glad to be shod of it.
Her thoughts drifted to her waistline, which Blayne assured her did not yet show any signs of her pregnancy—a complication she didn’t need, but one she was getting used to. Memories of the gut-wrenching guilt and loneliness she’d faced each day had dispelled any yearnings she might harbor for the simplicity of her old life. Here, she had a man who loved her and a baby on the way. She had family and friends. Whatever the future held, she would never willingly give up the precious treasures she’d gained.
At the loud rap on the door her stomach rumbled. Please let it be Blayne with breakfast.
“Sorry to bother you, Hope,” came Varaya’s apologetic voice. “I wanted a private word. I can come back later if you’re in the middle of something.”
“To be honest I’m glad of the distraction.”
Varaya settled herself and by the strangled sounds she was making, might be attempting to mirror Hope’s Lotus position.
“Owww! That’s not as easy as you make it look.”
“It’s quite comfortable—once you get used to it.” She waited while Varaya gathered her thoughts.
“It’s about Willem.”
Thought so. “What’s up?”
“Well… I’m… incredibly attracted to him and I don’t have a clue why. I mean, he’s so different from the men I usually go for. He’s got no family to speak of. Even his status is borrowed from being your blood-cousin. Normally I wouldn’t even consider such a man.”
“But?”
Varaya shifted restlessly. “But he’s gorgeous, he’s kind, he’s got a great sense of humor, he’s smart and he’s trying to better himself. He works so hard, Hope. He’s making a name for himself in his trade, and he’s never touched a drop of liquor since… you know.”
She hid a grin. Varaya had already halfway convinced herself Willem was The One. She just needed a little extra push. “So what’s the problem?”
“The night you were formally Promised he walked me back to the dormayre and I invited him in. I made it very clear I wanted him to spend the night b-but he refused!”
Tears were close if she was correctly interpreting those little gulping sounds. Of course she could have examined Varaya’s aureya to accurately gauge her state of mind, but she figured right now Varaya needed a friend more than a Sehan.
“He didn’t want me. And we still haven’t slept together.” Varaya sounded like the end of the world was nigh.
Hope’s laughter bubbled to the surface.
“You’re supposed to be my friend!”
“Varaya, of course Willem wants you. That’s plain as the nose on your face—even for a blind woman like me. But he wants more than a casual fling. And he’s aware you’ve had many relationships so he’s wary. And don’t look at me like that.”
“How could you know—? Never mind.” Varaya exhaled a shaky sigh. “Do you have to be so blunt?”
“Sorry.” Hope patted her friend’s hand. “He’s holding off sleeping with you until he’s sure how you feel about him. He doesn’t want to be lumped in with your other boyfriends, Varaya, surely you can see that?”
“Really?”
“Really. So relax. Willem seems to like you just as you are—and what’s not to like? So let him, ah, proceed at his own pace.” She’d been about to say “call the shots” but it wouldn’t translate too well to Dayamaru. She threw what she hoped was a wicked grin at Varaya. “But don’t let that stop you giving him a little encouragement to speed things up. Sometimes men need to have things laid out for them—so they don’t have any doubts what you want… or what they’re getting.”
“What’s this about getting laid?” Blayne called from the doorway.
Varaya giggled.
Hope changed the subject and tried her best not to blush. “Is that breakfast I can smell? Bring it here, please. I’m starving.”
“I remember a certain young woman leaving me in no doubt what she wanted not long after we met.”
She lost her battle with the blush. Worse was Varaya’s gasp. “Don’t tell me you made the first move, Hope?”
“I didn’t stand a chance,” Blayne said.
She spluttered. “You didn’t need much encouragement. Especially after we’d been sleeping together for ages before we… you know.”
“Wisa’s white wings,” Varaya said. “You must have been in love.”
“I was,” Blayne said. “It was the hardest thing I’d ever done to share my blankets with her and not take it any further. But up until that moment, I didn’t know for sure how she felt about me.”
“See, Varaya?” Hope grinned. “That’s just what I was talking about with Willem.”
“Varaya,” Blayne said. “Please take my advice on this. If you like Willem, just come right out and tell him. Don’t play games.”
“Thanks. That’s good advice. I think I’ll encourage Willem a little while longer, though. Just for fun.”
Hope smothered a laugh as she investigated breakfast.
“Poor Willem,” Blayne said. “He won’t know what’s hit him. Join us for breakfast, Varaya. At least it’ll mean the poor bastard has a few more minutes peace.”
“I’ve already eaten but I’ll stay and chat for a bit. Then I… um… have some things I must do.”
Breakfast was demolished amidst suggestions how best to torture Willem.
“You do this every morning?” Varaya asked. “Make breakfast and bring it here, I mean.”
“Yes,” Blayne said. “It’s a way for Hope to have a little time to herself and for us to have a leisurely meal together in the morning. Otherwise we’re constantly interrupted by either Degan, or one of the other healers, or some patient who can’t wait for me to start my rounds.”
Hope made a moue.“You have no idea how easy it is to lose your appetite when someone barges in and starts discussing their symptoms while you’re trying to eat.”
Varaya’s peal of laughter echoed around the hall. “I can imagine.”
Hope took a sip of tea. “And meditating is impossible when Degan’s around. He’s a sweetheart but he does say aloud everything that pops into his head. I get a run
ning commentary of everything he’s doing or thinking.” She paused, gathering her thoughts. “It’s difficult being around people every single minute of the day. And I have a hard time dealing with the formality of being Second Sehan. I feel like I’m on display.”
“What you do is very different from Dayamar’s way,” Varaya said. “We always had to meet with him in the Sehani Hall. It was much more formal.”
“I prefer a more relaxed atmosphere.” She’d taken to wandering through the settlement. That way, anyone wanting spiritual guidance had to want it desperately enough to seek her out. As a technique for winnowing out the more frivolous requests it worked pretty well.
“I find most people are more open and relaxed if they’re doing something familiar—such as walking. Plus I get some fresh air and exercise. Mind you, it doesn’t always work as well as I’d like.” She related how one determined man had resisted all efforts to politely send him on his way. He’d dogged her footsteps the entire afternoon, all the while loudly complaining about having to air his important problems outside where anyone could hear.
“How did you get rid of him?” Varaya asked.
“I told him Dayamar was obviously the only one who could help him with such serious issues, and offered to fetch him. Amazing how quickly his problems disappeared.”
“You lied?” Blayne’s tone was mock-shocked.
She stuck out her tongue.
“Why do you think Dayamar insisted on so much formality?” Varaya asked.
“Dayamar never needed to distinguish between genuine need and trifling requests,” Hope said. “No one would dare waste his time with something insignificant.”
Varaya choked on her mouthful of tea. “I sure wouldn’t.” She must have thought that sounded a little harsh for she said, “I know I have a blood relationship with Dayamar through you, Hope, but he still unnerves me.”
“He thinks the world of you, Varaya.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. He would never have approved you becoming my blood-sister, otherwise.”
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