Seer's Hope

by Anderson, Maree

  She slumped forward, shaking, weak with relief that she, too, had not been taken.

  “Sehan Hope! By the gods, woman, what happened?”

  Daryon. He tilted her chin to offer her water and she choked some down. She closed her eyes and again that terrifying darkness threatened. And as she screamed, Daryon swept her into his arms and bore her away.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Daryon burst into his sleeping room with the young Sehan in his arms. Healer Naytan halted mid-pace. Good. He’d been about to send Rikard out to find him. “Put her down here,” he instructed.

  Daryon laid her on the mattress and strode back into the main room to consult with Rikard. Naytan didn’t envy Rikard a bit the news he was about to impart. Daryon would be gutted. He turned his attention back to the girl his leader had stolen from beneath Dayamar’s nose.

  She’d curled into a tight ball and lay shivering, silent tears coursing down her cheeks. Naytan tucked a blanket around her and took her pulse. Her heart was racing, skin clammy. Shock, at a guess. He’d never treated a Sehan before. Best wait for Daryon to fill him in before he acted. Thank the gods she was here. Now he wouldn’t have to fight this nightmare alone.

  “What happened to her?” he snapped the instant Daryon re-entered the sleeping room.

  In a low voice, Daryon related what he’d witnessed.

  “Shock, then. I’ll get some sweet tea down her.”

  Daryon opted not to wait for her to recover. “Hope, it’s me, Daryon. Tell me what you Saw.” When she didn’t respond, he grabbed her shoulder and shook her. Hard.

  “For gods’ sakes!” He knew Daryon was desperate for answers but he still found himself appalled by his friend’s rough treatment of the girl.

  Daryon curled his lip and snarled. “If she can’t tell us what she discovered, bringing her here was a waste of time.” He shook her again, and her slight body flopped back and forth on the bed.

  “Enough.” Naytan grabbed his friend’s arm.

  “He’s right,” she whispered.

  Daryon released her and the young Sehan wiped her face with shaking hands.

  Naytan’s guts twisted at the haunted expression in her golden eyes. He knew how she felt. Horrified. Helpless. Powerless. “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  “Not physically.” She cleared her throat. “I examined one of the bodies. He was an older man. His name was Geramar. Something about him… called to me.”

  Geramar? Gods. It made perfect sense. The man had been fascinated by all things Sehani. Naytan relaxed his hands and shook out the cramped muscles. He hadn’t even noticed he’d been clenching his fists.

  “And?” Daryon prompted, impatient with her hesitancy.

  “At first I…” Her voice cracked. “At first I couldn’t….”

  Naytan gripped her wrists to ground her and pull her back from the past. “You’re safe.” He exchanged a glance with Daryon. A lie. None of them were safe. “When you’re ready, please tell us what you found.”

  “I’m sorry.” She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “This man had managed to hide a fragment of his life-force away in the hope that someone like me would discover it. He told me there were six of them—very old beings. Ancient.” Her voice steadied, becoming more dispassionate as she related what she’d learned.

  Daryon grunted. “An underground cavern in a ‘valley of lights’. Not much to go on.”

  “What will happen if these creatures escape?” Naytan asked.

  Her golden gaze told him everything he didn’t want to know. “We’re doomed?”

  She gave a terse nod. “As soon as he spoke to me they were aware of him. He knew they would come for him but he risked his soul to give me the information I needed. Somehow he shoved me back into my body before they could take me, too. But I saw enough to haunt me for the rest of my days. They tore that remaining fragment of his soul from his body and—”

  She shuddered. And when she could bring herself to speak again her voice was the merest whisper and Naytan had to strain to hear her words.

  “They fed on his soul. He’s damned. And it’s my fault.”

  He swallowed his horror. He couldn’t help the dead but he could help her. “None of this is your fault.”

  Her eyes glistened with furious tears. “There would still be a part of him left if I hadn’t alerted those… things by drawing him out. There might have been something I could have done to bring him back.”

  He shook his head and even managed a wry laugh. “No. Unless you’ve suddenly morphed from Sehan to god and can bring men back from the dead, there was nothing you could do. I checked each body myself before—” Before I ordered them to be burned.

  He sucked in a painful breath. “I checked each body personally. They were dead. There was nothing you could have done for them.”

  She straightened her spine, mouth set in a determined line. “We need Dayamar’s help. We need to search the histories for references to this ‘Valley of Lights’. We have to find it.”

  “Why?” Daryon, ever the pragmatist, wanted to know.

  “Whatever’s in that valley is causing this sickness. It’s evil. And I was brought to this world to stop it.”

  Naytan’s ears pricked up at her turn of phrase. “Brought to this world?”

  She bit her lip and lowered her gaze. “Can you forget you heard me say that?”

  “No,” Daryon said, coldly blunt. “Not if the survival the few who remain here depends on you.”

  “I’m almost too afraid to ask. How many of your people are—”

  “Dead?” he supplied bluntly.

  She winced. “Yes.”

  Naytan scrubbed a hand through his short-cropped hair. “There are around fifty of us left.”

  Daryon turned away, shoulders hunched to hide his expression.

  The girl wrapped both arms around her middle. “I’m so sorry, Daryon. I wish I’d gotten us here sooner.”

  “You got us here faster than I could have,” Daryon said gruffly, piquing Naytan’s insatiable curiosity. He scanned the girl’s face and mentally kicked himself. Young or not, she was a Sehan—capable of things he couldn’t possibly conceive. He shouldn’t be thinking of her as a mere girl.

  “You were telling us how you were brought to this world,” he said.

  “Actually, I was doing no such thing.”

  “We’d both appreciate the distraction. You’d be doing us a favor.”

  “You’re worse than Dayamar at getting your way,” she muttered.

  His lips twitched at her tone. Dayamar might get his way but Naytan would bet she made the old Sehan work hard for it. “You can tell us all about it while you eat this snack I prepared for you, and drink this tea. You look like you’re about ready to fall over.”

  “Good idea,” Daryon said. “You’ll do us no good if you fall ill.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. Do it for your baby’s sake.”

  Naytan shot Daryon a sharp glance before switching his focus to her pale, drawn features. When she took the platter of meat and fruit from him her hand shook. Not a good sign. She was about ready to drop. Only sheer stubbornness was keeping her going. While she ate, he rummaged in his ever-present pouch of herbs and added a little something extra to the tea he planned to give her.

  She levered herself up further on the cushions. Encouraged by Daryon, between bites of her meal she related the story of how she’d been brought to Dayamaria.

  When she paused, Naytan silently handed her the mug of tea he’d prepared.

  “That explains a lot,” Daryon said, taking the revelations in his stride. “But how come you speak our language like a native?”

  She yawned and her eyelids fluttered. “Wisa told me the gods sped up my process of learning the language.”

  “Wisa told you?” Naytan prompted gently.

  “Yes… my mother… blood-mother…” She closed her eyes, and didn’t open them again.

  Naytan watched her relax into slee
p. “She’s out to it.”

  “Better hope she doesn’t find out you drugged her,” Daryon said. “She scares me shitless when she’s angry.”

  “Too bad if she does. She needs rest or she’ll harm herself and her baby. And I didn’t want her contacting Dayamar tonight, either. Call me over-cautious but after what she told us about those things, I figure any display of Sehani power is better left until daylight.”

  “Agreed. Go get some rest, Naytan. You’re exhausted. I’ll watch her tonight.”

  “Do you think that’s wise? Being here alone with her, I mean? Blayne—”

  Daryon snorted. “I don’t give a crap what Blayne might think. But if you want to stay and chaperone us be my guest.”

  Naytan subjected him to the healer’s eye. Daryon was an energetic man who preferred movement to stillness, and drove Nerraya to distraction at meetings by tapping his foot or drumming his fingers on the nearest surface. But now? The stiffness of his stance, his clenched fists, the tightness around his eyes. He was too calm, too controlled. Naytan feared he might implode. And he couldn’t afford to let that happen. Nerraya was a mess. The Usehani needed Daryon to be functional.

  “I have a bunch of people who’ll need herbal assistance if they’re to sleep tonight. As will I.” He sighed, knowing full well there wasn’t an herb in the world strong enough to give him any peace tonight. “I’ll send Kaylia to watch with you. That should keep Blayne out of your hair if it gets back to him Hope stayed in your room. Besides, Kaylia is a trainee healer.”

  “And the fact I’m attracted to her has nothing to do with it.”

  “Of course not.”

  “You’re a real piece of work, Naytan.”

  “Don’t knock it, Daryon. It could be the last chance you have to get friendly with a pretty girl. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?” He checked Hope’s pulse and temperature again. Satisfied, he was about to depart when another thought hit him. Abruptly he turned back. “Do you fully understand the implications of Dayamar bringing her to Dayamaria?”

  “Obviously he brought her here to help combat this evil. What’s your point?”

  “Dayamar has Seen this was going to happen.” Naytan paled at the thought of living with such nightmarish foreknowledge. “Gods. How does he sleep at night?”

  Daryon’s lips compressed to a white, bloodless line. “Perhaps he doesn’t. I don’t much care. But I’d like to know why we weren’t warned. In fact, I think I’ll have to insist on an explanation.”

  “Would knowing have made any difference?” Naytan asked. “We couldn’t do anything to save them. She—” he flung a hand toward the sleeping woman “—wouldn’t have been able to help them, either. If she’d tried, she would have died, too. Me? I don’t think I could have lived with knowing what was to come. I prefer the bliss of ignorance. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Daryon glanced at Hope, wondering at the tale she’d spun them. Given what he’d already experienced since he met her it didn’t seem at all implausible.

  She sighed in her sleep. Daryon pulled off her boots and covered her again before settling on the floor with his back against the wall to wait for Kaylia.

  He was exhausted but the last thing he wanted was sleep. The images of his people burning were etched into his mind. Every time he closed his eyes the horror increased tenfold. Perhaps, if Kaylia were willing, he could ignore his waking nightmares for a little while and ease his despair in a woman’s arms.

  ~~~

  There was something important she needed to do. Food. She needed food. And water. She stumbled from the sleeping room and smacked into someone. Daryon. He grasped her shoulders to steady her.

  “Morning, Sehan. How’d you sleep?”

  He sounded weary. She cast a seer’s eye over him. He’d locked his emotions up tight but he was stable and functioning. He was a strong man.

  “As well as could be expected.” She cast out her seer-senses to help get her bearings in the unfamiliar dwelling. “I need to speak to Naytan.”

  “He’s left breakfast for you. And instructions you’re not to step foot outside this house until you eat.”

  She dragged in a long slow breath, held it, and let it out in a sharp puff. “Fine.”

  The instant she’d settled on a cushion he handed her a cup of tea. This solicitous behavior went beyond hospitality. It was borderline pushy. “I’d prefer water first, please.”

  “Naytan insists this tea would be better for you.”

  “Well if Naytan insists,” she mimicked. When he didn’t rise to her jibe, she took a sip of the hot liquid. “Hmmm. Not bad. What’s in it?”

  “A bit of this and that.”

  Apparently Naytan was a skilled herbalist, for by the time she’d finished the tea and eaten a bowlful of porridge, both headache and nausea had receded. Her sluggish mind finally pieced it all together. He’d put something into her drink to make her sleep before she’d had a chance to contact Dayamar. She slammed the cup on the floor, and was on the brink of demanding Daryon fetch Naytan when the object of her ire made a timely appearance.

  “Good morning, Sehan Hope,” he said.

  She lurched to her feet. “You drugged my tea last night. How could you? People are dying and we need all the help we can get to stop this.”

  “I did. For a variety of reasons. And we’re well aware of that.”

  His calm, reasonable tones didn’t soothe her one iota. She ground her teeth and strove for calm.

  “You were in no state to contact him last night,” he said.

  Enough of calm. Who needed calm? “I’m Sehani, and you had no right to—”

  “I don’t care what you are. I’m the healer, and while you’re here, your health is my responsibility. You’re no use to any of us if you become ill or suffer a miscarriage.”

  She felt the flush crawling up her neck to her face. She was acting like a spoiled princess. “You’re right. Please forgive me.”

  “Nothing to forgive. I’m just doing my job.

  She still needed to assert herself. Otherwise they’d see her as a weakling in need of coddling, and ride roughshod over her. “And with your permission, I’d like to do mine.”

  She sensed him examining her face as if probing for any sign of weakness. If she showed any she had no doubt she’d be confined to bed-rest. And then he said, “Of course. I have other patients to see, so if you will excuse me.”

  Thank gods for small mercies. Last thing she needed was having to check everything that passed her lips for sleeping draughts. She waited until he left before she spoke to Daryon. “I need to contact Dayamar and update him on what we’ve discovered. And this time, I will tolerate no interference from anyone. Is that clear, Leader Daryon?”

  “Yes, Sehan Hope.”

  He’d responded formally to her clipped tones. Good. She’d gotten her point across.

  “How long do you need?” he asked.

  “A few minutes. Please see that no one disturbs me. May I use the sleeping room from last night?”

  “I’ll stand guard.”

  “Thank you.”

  The little Sehan had a temper on her. Daryon would have bet his right arm she didn’t appreciate Blayne—or Dayamar, for that matter—trying to curb her activities.

  The instant she pulled the drape closed behind her, he began to pace the floor. He’d never been particularly good at waiting. He was a man of action. That was not to say he acted rashly, but once he’d made up his mind he didn’t hesitate. Hence his grand plan to kidnap Hope and bring her here.

  His mood darkened, recalling how badly she’d had been hurt in the scuffle leading to her capture. But he couldn’t blame Brin for overreacting. She’d been terrifying and they’d all been more scared of her than any of them cared to admit.

  Right. That was about his limit for waiting.

  He pushed aside the drape and halted. Hope sat cross-legged on the mattress, her hands resting palm-upward on her knees. It was her unnatural stillness that alarmed him. I
f not for her eerily glowing golden eyes she could have been mistaken for an exquisitely lifelike sculpture. His gaze dropped to her chest. There. A breath. And another. He released the breath he’d been holding.

  He was about to back out of the room when his attention was drawn to the glistening sphere bobbing above her left hand. It was about the size of someone’s head. And there was an image inside it.

  Curious, he edged closer and saw a face. He recognized Dayamar and knew he was in trouble. Golden Sehani eyes, one pair physically present and one pair magically conjured, fixed unblinkingly on him.

  “I greet you, Leader Daryon.” The voice that issued from Hope’s mouth was not hers. And it was so cold with displeasure the temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees.

  “Uh, likewise, Sehan Dayamar.”

  “You’re fortunate Hope has presented a strong case on your behalf, Daryon,” Dayamar/Hope said. “Right now I’m feeling less than charitable toward those who harmed my daughter.”

  He suppressed a shudder by clenching his fists at his side. The implied threat was all the more menacing issuing from Hope’s mouth.

  “But I find myself even more concerned you felt unable to ask me for assistance. Are our peoples now so estranged? Or is it you believed me capable of that degree of pettiness? I would never refuse to help your people, Daryon. I hoped you knew that.” Now the old Sehan’s voice was tinged with regret.

  “My actions were a reflection on Varon, not you, Sehan Dayamar. I was desperate.”

  “And our redoubtable First Elder is not coping well with this tragic turn of events. Daryon, I may not agree with your methods, but I understand the reasoning behind it. I’ve had reports from the other settlements. At least a hundred from each have been struck down, and we have been unable to help the victims. Whatever is causing this is becoming stronger.”

  A vice squeezed his chest and he fisted his hand against his breastbone. This wasn’t what he wanted to hear.