by Gun Brooke
“Shut up.” White hurried up to Dahlia and pressed a laser-knife against her neck. It vibrated lethally, and she could tell from the stinging sensation that it had broken her skin.
“That wasn’t very clever.” She kept walking, not even looking at White, the knife edge chafing her more with every step. She spoke in her infamous blistering tone, using every bit of her courage to sound menacing. “You’re assaulting a civil servant of the SC with a deadly weapon—again. You’re as good as dead, Ms. White. As good as dead.”
*
Emeron stood in the doorway to the Hall of Worship and took in the situation inside. People spoke in hushed voices as they wrapped wounds, comforted small children, or prayed with the ones who wouldn’t survive. Flashbacks of her childhood, of having been in this exact structure with one of her mothers and her grandmother, made her press her tongue firmly to the roof of her mouth to keep from crying.
“She seems to be in her natural element, doesn’t she?” Mogghy said from behind her, making Emeron snap her head around.
“What are you talking about?”
“Dwyn. Look.” Mogghy pointed to the left.
She couldn’t see Dwyn at first, merely heads bowed in worship around a set of cots. Only when she moved farther to the left did she discern a curtain of white-blond hair glimmering in the dim light. Dwyn knelt next to one of the cots, holding a young female as a Disian woman held a sculptural array of crystals above the injured person and murmured inaudible words. A healer. Emeron knew the Disians honored and revered their healers. She regarded them with dismay.
Dwyn raised her head and gazed up at the crystals. Her eyes were darker than usual, her pupils dilated in the poor light, and the crystals reflected in them. Her delicate features seemed even more ethereal than normal, and with her hair fallen out of its usual chignon she looked like one of the forest creatures Emeron’s grandmother Briijn had told her stories about.
“And they come out only at dusk, child. During the day they hide behind trees and bushes, and under shrubs, but when the sun begins to set, and everything is golden from its last rays, the elfins come out. They are the most beautiful little creatures. Blond hair and white skin, dressed in leaves and spiderwebs. If they let you see them, you fall instantly in love with them because they are so precious. Nobody who has seen a real elfin has been able to remain indifferent. They demand you love them, merely by being so wonderful. And you do, child. You have no choice, so you do.”
Emeron gasped at Briijn’s voice, so clear inside her head. Half expecting the long-gone most beloved member of her family to be there, she walked over to Dwyn and stood behind her, prepared to say something scathing about the Disian methods of healing, something she’d once regarded with childlike awe. She opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment Dwyn stared up at her with tear-filled eyes. “Isn’t it wonderful? Look.”
There it was, the elfin beauty Briijn had spoken about. The rays of the setting sun played with the prisms in the crystals, casting a glow over Dwyn’s pale face. The tears clinging to her long blond eyelashes looked like tiny perfect diamonds, and the glitter that shimmered in her eyes took Emeron’s breath away.
“Look, Emeron. Look.” Dwyn turned her head toward the Disian healer. The crystals spun now within her hands and seemed to defy gravity. The young woman on the cot was trembling. Fine tremors reverberated through her, and not sure why, Emeron knelt next to Dwyn, telling herself she was about to pull Dwyn away from this quackery.
Instead, Dwyn took her hand and placed it on the patient’s thigh. “Feel.”
The small tremors resembled the ones she experienced when she was cold to the bone. She didn’t expect anything more, but after a few moments, she sensed something else—an underlying rhythm, like a distant drum beating to a different pace. The healer didn’t say a word now, merely moved her hands in small circles, making the crystals dance between her hands.
Suddenly the young person drew a deep breath and opened her eyes. She sat up, or tried to, and a woman who had crouched by her other side pulled her into an embrace. “Yhja. Megos dansa.”
“What does that mean?” Dwyn asked, her voice only a breath.
“My daughter. Her name is Yhja.” Emeron was shocked to hear that her voice was just as breathless. “What is…was wrong with her?”
“She had been thrown from the crash site almost to the center. She lived in the house directly where the ship landed. It’s a miracle she’s alive to begin with.”
“Who told you this?”
“Amiri.” Dwyn glanced around her. “I don’t know where she went. I suppose search parties are still out there working.”
“Yes. Oches and Noor are heading up our unit. Mogghy and I came to appraise the situation here. You weren’t supposed to wander off on your own, you know.”
“But I was safe here. Besides, I had to do something. I couldn’t simply ignore all these injured people.” Dwyn shrugged. “I’m not used to having my own bodyguard. I’m used to complete independence.”
Emeron was still dazed from the experience with the healer and not ready to deal with the multitude of questions that welled up inside her. She had absolutely no time for old, painful memories right now. “And now Yhja is all healed. A miracle,” she said, unwilling to let go of the sarcasm in her voice.
“Yes.” Dwyn challenged Emeron with her eyes. “She suffered from a serious concussion and inner bleedings. Her skin was blotched, her respiration shallow and fast, and both shoulders were dislocated. The healer set her joints first, the softest maneuver I’ve ever seen, and trust me, I’ve seen that done several times. Twice on myself. And look at her now.” Dwyn gazed at Yhja with eyes that welled with new tears.
“I see her.” And Emeron had to concede that she didn’t act or look as if she were concussed with inner bleedings. “Did you scan her?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact I did. The healer told Amiri it was all right, that it could actually help her adjust the crystals.”
This piece of information stunned Emeron and made her stand up so quickly she nearly knocked Dwyn over. “This is utter nonsense, and you should know better.” Furious, and unable to stop herself, she towered over Dwyn, who looked startled. “If you truly believe that waving crystals over an unconscious kid does anybody any good, then you’re even more delusional than I thought. You work for a company that does nothing but encourage so-called civil disobedience. You claim to be on this heroic mission to preserve the old worlds that have no appreciation for new technology and the sacrifices people make for the sake of human evolution.” She growled, “I won’t sit here and watch you look all radiant because someone made an unexplainable recovery. As soon as we’re done here with the search-and-rescue operation, we’re back to doing what we came here to do. Catch the bad guys and get the hell out of here.”
Red mist clouded Emeron’s mind and she almost lost control completely. She didn’t look at Dwyn again, but stomped out the door. Staring at the sunset, she wished she’d never set foot in this godforsaken place again.
Chapter Twelve
Dwyn walked past the long line of Disian men and women who stood outside the House of Worship waiting to hear about their friends and loved ones. Their heads were bowed as they prayed or meditated.
“There’s a reason for her outburst,” Mogghy said from behind her. “Don’t judge her too harshly, Dwyn.”
Dwyn didn’t answer right away. Her ears still rang from Emeron’s loud eruption, and she felt numb. She didn’t care about losing face in front of the Disians. But the torment, the anguish behind Emeron’s words, and the fact that she had lost control in a manner Dwyn had thought impossible, concerned her deeply. “I don’t judge her. How could I?”
“Well, she probably thinks you do.” Mogghy neared her, his huge body towering above her. He had the kindest eyes she had ever seen, and an honesty that told her what she needed to know.
“I wonder where she went.” She gazed around them, but saw only the Disian crowds. “Sh
e disappeared so quickly.”
“I can tell you, child.” Pri appeared at Dwyn’s elbow so unexpectedly that she jumped. “When Imer-Ohon-Da was a little girl, she used to go down to the waterfalls.”
“Why do you call her that? Immeron—”
“Imer-Ohon-Da. It is her name, pronounced the Disian way. It means ‘as sung by the people.’”
“Emeron has a Disian name? I don’t understand.”
“You must ask her, child.” Pri spoke softly. “There is much hurt with Imer-Ohon-Da. She is aimed for greatness and has yet to find her path. She is by the waterfalls. You must go to her.”
Dwyn frowned, uncertain what the old woman meant. Mogghy seemed to concur and motioned for her to start walking.
“I’ll show you the waterfalls. I saw them earlier. Come on.”
She didn’t seem to have any choice. Sighing, she followed Mogghy as he maneuvered through the crowd. The Disians moved to the side like a parting sea, allowing them effortless passage. Dwyn became more nervous with each step. She had no idea what mood Emeron would be in, and she was almost certain that she herself was the last person on this planet Emeron wanted to talk to right now. Still, both Pri and Mogghy, who clearly knew Emeron much better than she did, seemed convinced.
The eastern part of the village was framed by slender trees and uneven rocks, which created a magical scene. Short, soft grass grew between the trees, and a wooden path, lit by oil-fueled lamps, led down to a small lake where a twin waterfall created a hypnotic sound.
“There she is. I’ll leave the two of you alone, all right?”
“Ah…sure.” Dwyn slowed her steps. More oil lamps circled the lake, and the sand on the shore clung to her boot-clad feet. She couldn’t resist the urge to get out of her boots. Unbuckling them, she pulled them and her socks off and placed them at the beginning of the lake path. Then she stood for a moment, digging her bare toes into the sand. The waterline was only a few meters away and she dashed down, dipping her feet in the cool water. Now the sand clung to them as she began to walk along the shoreline of the lake.
The twin moons were out, and when she squinted, she could vaguely see the outline of the vast military space stations that orbited the smaller moon. Off-limits to civilians, such installations were foreign to her, but she didn’t envy the people who lived and worked there. She knew what it was like to be on an endless space journey with no place, other than an old space vessel, to call home.
A dark shadow out on a small pier drew her attention. Emeron sat with her boots at her side, dangling her feet just above the waterline. Dwyn felt a bit better that they had done the same thing. “Water’s lovely, isn’t it?” she called, and began to walk on the pier. It was made of wood and wobbled.
“Yes.” Emeron didn’t look around, but Dwyn kept on.
“I thought I’d make sure you’re all right.”
“I’m fine.”
“Yes, I can see that.” She took the last few steps up to Emeron and nudged her boots out of the way, sat down, and rinsed the sand off her toes.
“You didn’t have to come.”
“Yes. I think I did.”
“Why?” Emeron turned her head and gazed at her with emotionless eyes.
“Because you said things, to me and about me, which suggested that you not only despise me, but that you think I have ulterior motives.”
Emeron flinched and redirected her eyes toward the water. “Sorry.”
“I didn’t come for an apology either.” She touched Emeron’s hand briefly. “I came because I care, and I think it’s important to discuss things.”
“What things?”
“Oh, for instance why one moment you seemed impressed, in awe even, with what was happening with Yhja and vehemently dismissed it the next.” She was careful to speak softly and not sound accusing.
“God, you don’t mince words, do you? You go straight for the jugular. You’d make a good soldier,” Emeron said bitterly.
“I disagree. I’d be charged with insubordination so fast I’d spend most of my career in the brig.”
Emeron stared at her for a second, then laughed. A short bark of a laugh, but it was a start.
She smiled and shrugged. “It’s the truth.”
“Somehow I don’t doubt that.” Emeron dipped her feet into the water and let them dangle. Water drops glistened in the light of the moon and the lamps. “You’re too honest, and too independent. You’d better stick to your current job.”
“You called me terrible things just now.” She dangled her feet as well.
“Yes. I did. That was unfair. I apologize.” The strangled words came out sounding authentic. They seemed torn from Emeron’s throat by sheer force.
“Apology accepted. But I still need an explanation. Pri suggested that you’ve been here before, that you’re somehow connected to this place.”
Emeron stopped moving her feet and merely sat there, as if she held her breath. Perhaps she was trying to figure out how to avoid having to explain everything. She certainly had every right to, Dwyn thought, but was adamant about knowing the truth.
“My grandmother, Briijn, was Disian.”
“What?” That wasn’t what Dwyn had expected. “But the Disians…they never leave the forest. That’s one of their rules. They’re true to their heritage and revere the forest and their traditions.”
“No rules without exceptions.” Emeron lifted her right leg and hugged it to her with both arms. “Briijn was curious about the outside world. In every generation some choose another path. Briijn belonged to the ones with a tremendous amount of curiosity. She dreamt of exploring the Cormanian world and perhaps even traveling off-world one day. She ended up doing all that before she died.”
“She must have been extraordinary.”
“She was the one soul in my life who gave a damn about me. Briijn loved me like a mother should, when my own mothers didn’t. Or couldn’t.” Raw with emotion, Emeron’s voice came out staccato.
“And when she died, you had nobody.”
Emeron blinked. “You’re very perceptive. Most people at the time said I was still fortunate to belong to the nobility among the all-women dynasties.”
“So, your grandmother, Briijn, was married to another woman. What happened to her?”
“She divorced Briijn after only a few years and left her to raise Vestine, my birthmother, alone. When my other grandmother passed away a few years later, her parents found Briijn working in the docks at a shuttle station, with my mother strapped to her back, which is the Disian custom. They wanted the little girl, their grandchild, to grow up in their midst so they took them both home. I have to give them that. They never mistreated Briijn. At least not deliberately. But they never understood her, and she was the most interesting, amazing woman among them. When I was born, she insisted she’d take care of me, like she had done with Vestine, which my relatives found curious since it was customary to employ nannies. She was more of a mother to me than my birthmother or my names-mother.”
Rather stunned at Emeron’s long speech, Dwyn boldly took her hand. “What happened that made you so furious with your heritage?”
“She died.”
“I realize that. But—”
“And the Disians didn’t do anything to stop it, even if they were supposed to know how. They stood by and let her die. There was certainly none of that crystal-swinging magic then.”
“How old were you?”
“Fourteen.” Emeron’s voice sank to a whisper and she squeezed Dwyn’s hand hard. “Briijn developed a life-threatening condition from a dormant illness that appears in many Disians when they reach a certain age. The only treatment consists of local herbs and some of their magic. I call it quackery.” Emeron sighed. “My mothers didn’t realize what was happening, and when they finally brought her here, apparently the Disians refused to interact with someone who had crossed over to modern life. They didn’t help her. She died. That’s it.”
“A piece must be missing. The Disi
ans seem enlightened and caring, from what I’ve seen.”
“And you’ve been here half a day.” Emeron didn’t sound scornful, merely sad. “Pri, who is actually my grandmother’s cousin, and the others, squabbled when they could have done something immediately. My relatives also acted too late. The bottom line is these people, my Disian brothers and sisters, are proud and regard any other culture but their own as inferior, when actually they’re the ones lacking. They could have moved out a long time ago, contributed to society and not merely been a bothersome—”
“So that is how you see us, child? Bothersome people who don’t contribute?” Pri’s voice from behind made Emeron jump up and turn around.
“Yes. That is how I see you and the rest of these people. Only the children are innocent, and they don’t know anything about the outside world. But the rest of you? Some take the opportunity to attend schools and get an education, but then they return home, here, to this charming but unproductive village.”
“Your misconceptions have caused you much suffering, dear child. You are my kin, and I would like to explain a few things to you, if you are ready to listen.”
“It’s too late for explanations.” Emeron grabbed her boots and shoved her feet back into them.
“I disagree. I don’t think you’ve been ready until now.” Pri gestured toward Dwyn. “Now that you’ve brought your hesiyeh sohl with you—”
“She isn’t mine. That should show you just how wrong you are. Dwyn means nothing to me personally, and the fact that she’s here...” Emeron shrugged, “is coincidental.”
Emeron’s words reverberated throughout Dwyn and caused a dark, dull pain. Afraid that her agony would show, she stumbled to her feet. “I should let the two of you work things out. You obviously have a lot to talk about. See you later, Emeron.”
She hurried along the wooden pier and ran down the path to where she’d left her boots. She thought she heard Emeron call her name, but didn’t stop to make sure. Tears burned behind her eyelids, and if she had to face Emeron right now, she’d break down and cry out of sheer humiliation. To think she had begun to believe that she could reach that cold-hearted automaton. Angry as well as humiliated, she grabbed her boots and hurried to the area where Oches and Noor had set up camp. Four makeshift tents of varying sizes outlined a rectangle with a fire burning in the center.