Fire Island: Book 3 of The Chatterre Trilody (Chatterre Trilogy)

by Jeanne Foguth

  "How was Tem-aki hurt?"

  "Not Tem-aki, GEA-4. And I don't know how. All I know is that there was a lot of damage." She bit her lower lip to keep herself from telling him that his companion no longer seemed to have a face and that she did not seem capable of using her arms or legs.

  Larwin's expression darkened. "It would be just like her to look for me, after I disappeared."

  "But GEA-4 knows where you are."

  "I meant my sister."

  Nimri blinked twice, as she wondered how such a simple conversation had gotten so complicated. "But how would she know where to look? You said that your star ship was thrown many 'whatevers' away after your tracking signal quit."

  "Whatevers?" Larwin chuckled. "Close enough to a quadrant. It would be impossible to explain the distances involved and it really doesn't matter that you understand the terms because they aren't relevant."

  She studied his expression, and remembered the vast distances she had experienced on previous myst-journeys. While it was true that she hadn't understood the words he used, she was well aware of the vast distances they described. Still, this topic was not worth fretting over. When Thunder returned, it would be time for questions, because they had a chance of getting answers. "So you think Tem-aki is all right?"

  He shrugged. "I hope she is, but there isn't anything I can do for her if she needs help." He narrowed his eyes at her. "And neither can you, so if that's what you're thinking, forget it."

  "But what about GEA-4?"

  "She's an android, not a person and if something damaged her, it had to have been something catastrophic and we certainly don't want to expose our child to that. Do we?" He gave her a stern look, as he caressed her stomach.

  She shook her head, no. Still, she couldn't stop thinking about Tem-aki and wondering if she was all right.

  ~0~

  As Thunder told them everything that had happened since he had headed for the Star Bridge, Nimri smiled, gasped and laughed at all the appropriate times. But she soon realized that he hadn't mentioned GEA-4 or Tem-aki once. As the meal continued and the stories of dragon moons and water worlds continued, she had to bite her tongue to keep from asking why he was not mentioning them.

  Strangely, even during the relaxed atmosphere of dinner, neither Larwin or Bryta asked about GEA-4, but maybe that was because Thunder's tale of a land-less world and a moon teeming with madrox, which his petite, blond friend, Raine was a shepherd for seemed so impossible to imagine. How could anyone as delicate as Raine possibly control dragons?

  While Bryta got their guest rooms ready. Larwin talked about something called eepyllihg and treaties with Raine, Reed and Coral, who Thunder had met on Kalamar. If she could believe what her brother said, Kalamar treated madrox like some sort of farm animal. Of course, Kalamar was a world covered with water, which apparently protected the people, and they actually kept their dangerous herd on the moon, Vilecom. When her brother tried to explain the problems with Vilecom and eepyllihg, which the people of Kalamar apparently sold as a 'fuel additive' for space ships, Nimri asked Thunder to take an evening stroll in the garden. As they quietly got up, Kazza looked torn between following them and listening to Larwin's confusing conversation.

  Kazza chose the discussion about eepyllihg, which was apparently a fancy name for something that was essentially 'ghilly pee'. Raine, Reed and Coral all laughed at Larwin's disbelief over that odd fact.

  They were well away from her home, which spiraled around the towering sequoia in the middle of her sprawling herb garden, when she finally dared ask, "Why didn't you tell Larwin that GEA-4 was damaged?"

  "He didn't ask."

  "And you didn't think he had a right to know?" Thunder shrugged. Nimri pressed her advantage, "Why didn't you bring her back here, so that Larwin could try to repair her?"

  Thunder didn't look her in the eye, which was very odd. "I couldn't." She raised a brow. "You know how treacherous that path is."

  She nodded. "Yes, I do... So are you telling me that you left GEA-4 and Tem-aki alone on the mountain, hoping she could repair her, then come down?"

  His jaw dropped. "You've been myst-traveling. I thought you didn't want to do that because you didn't know how it would affect your child."

  "He is fine. Now, answer my question."

  "He? You know it's a boy?"

  "Yes, stop trying to change the subject."

  "Have you told Larwin?" Nimri crossed her arms over her bulging stomach and silently glared at her brother.

  "We agreed that it was best to say nothing, until we knew what had actually happened."

  "We, who?" Nimri demanded.

  "Me, Raine, Reed and Coral."

  Fireflies twirled through the shadows behind Thunder. "So you think not knowing is better than knowing?"

  "Yes." His answer was decisive.

  "Explain."

  "Well, as I understand it, on Guerreterre, the family relationships are not as close as they are here."

  "So? Just because they seem to send their children away to school at an early age doesn't mean they don't care about each other."

  "I know that. But it does mean that they aren't used to seeing each other every day."

  "True, but Tem-aki is the one he always mentions and I know he loves her."

  "Which is why it would be cruel to tell him that she is probably dead."

  Pain shot through Nimri's core, and she sank onto a nearby bench. "You think she's dead?"

  "What other explanation is there?" Thunder sat down next to her. He broke off a mint leaf, which he twirled between his fingers, as he marshaled his thoughts. "One minute we were both in the Star Bridge and there was a madrox coming toward us. I was waiting for Tem-aki to get past me, so I could trigger the charges that GEA-4 had planted before we got side-tracked to Kalamar."

  "What about Raine, Reed and Coral? Where were they?"

  "They were already where the balata used to be."

  "And GEA-4?"

  "She was with me."

  "But you didn't take her, when you ran from the madrox?"

  "I thought she would be fine, where she was. I mean, it's not like she's flesh and blood or anything." Thunder grasped her hands and looked deep into her eyes. "The area where I left her was pretty-much the same, after the dust settled." His grip tightened. "The only difference was that GEA-4 was gone and there was no sign of Tem-aki, but she had to have been there because what set off the explosives if she didn't?"

  "I don't know." Nimri sighed and her vision began to blur, as she thought about Larwin's loss. "Do you think the madrox got them or was it the detonation?"

  "There were no bits and pieces. No sign they had ever been there. Not even a footprint in the dust, so I just don't know." He chewed at his lower lip. "I'm surprised that Larwin hasn't asked about GEA-4."

  "That's because he knows what I have been dreaming."

  Thunder stiffened. "Do you still dream of madrox?"

  "Yes, but I also dream of Larwin's sister. And in my dreams, I am Tem-aki and she is with GEA-4."

  Chapter 3

  A distant scream woke Cameron O’ryan. He lay in his hammock, ears straining. After an extended silence, he wondered if the cry had been real or part of his dream. Then, he realized that his frigate was laying so motionless on her anchor that he began speculating if all of nature was holding its breath and listening for another summons.

  Heart pounding in anticipation, that he had actually received the summons, which he had told Nolan he hoped for, he waited.

  After several long minutes, he heard something rustle in the still night. It sounded as if it was above the deck.

  Cameron quietly got out of his hammock, tied his dark wavy hair back with a leather strip, slipped his feet into sturdy sandals, and pulled on his dragon-gold robe, which honored Shaka-uma. Then, fearing the creators would be angered by one of his rank simply wearing the rough threads of an initiate, he added his ornate azure hooded cowl, which tradition claimed was the color or Shaka-uma's tongue, a
nd designating his office, high draco, as the one which could speak for her.

  High overhead, an unseen bird wailed its approval to the stars.

  Cameron straightened to his full six-feet of height, squared his wide shoulders and ascended the ladder to the frigate's deck. “I am ready,” he whispered to the unseen watcher in the cloudless night sky. He paused for a moment and looked toward Dragon Ridge, where the others were preparing for the coming celebration, but he couldn't even see the glimmer of a fire. He swallowed and hoped that the creator’s herald could not see the bands of fear he felt tightening around his chest.

  Ropes rustled, urging him to hurry.

  On silent sandals, he moved across the shadowed deck, climbed down the rope ladder to his dory, untied the knot securing it to his frigate, then paddled his small, but sturdy reed-boat toward the path to the protected place, from which generations of dracos had received guidance.

  Behind him, there was a loud splash. Cameron smiled, knowing that his beloved companion, Saphera, was following him.

  As Cameron neared the shore, the clouds moved aside and vast barren hectares of massive octagon-shaped objects shimmered in the stars' meager light. Ancient tales claimed that a mighty mountain with a lava-lake at its summit had once stood where the harbor now protected his frigate from the ocean's wild waves.

  Over a millennium before, Cameron's ancestors had cobbled together their first bamboo craft, then, catching the wind with rags stitched together to form a sail, they followed the great dragon-mother, Shaka-uma and watched with reverence as she laid her eggs in the lava-lake. A millennium later, even though the mighty mountain no longer existed, Shaka-uma's followers still made an annual pilgrimage to the site.

  Unfortunately, after generations of no one seeing dragons, few still followed Shaka-uma and even fewer made the annual journey to honor her. But, if he did not follow the traditions, who would? Their beliefs had been respected for centuries, then one-hundred-twenty-three years ago, the volcano had exploded, raining Shaka-uma and her unhatched young onto the surrounding shore and into the ocean. Many of the eggs had cracked, causing the young to die in agony. Cameron looked at the hundreds of huge, geometric rocks, which littered the shore, unable to imagine the force it must have taken to throw them free of the mountain as it disintegrated.

  Legend claimed that Shaka-uma herself had been hurled all the way to Dragon Ridge, then buried there, under ash and debris from the eruption. Though he had faith that she had survived the horrible event, she had not flown the skies to bless the lands, since. And while he told doubters that he had faith that she still lived and would return to bless their harvests, in his heart he doubted if she would return to improve a land which had destroyed her offspring.

  What the ancient tales did not explain was if the three undamaged shield-shaped boulders held healthy young dragons or if the uncracked geometric rocks were as dead as the rest. Of course, now that he was the high draco, Cameron needed to pretend to have knowledge and understanding that he did not have so he could project a confidence he did not feel.

  Being an initiate had been much simpler.

  It was easier to live in the solitude on his frigate than in the home assigned to his station. At least for the few days he was anchored here, he didn't need to oversee the ever-decreasing number of faithful or spend his days feeling like a fraud and he didn't even need to project confidence for the initiates, who Nolan had taken to Dragon Ridge to prepare for the ceremony.

  He narrowed his gaze on one of the three large octagonal mounds which his predecessors believed were pods of living baby dragons, and held his breath. Before he was forced to inhale, a thin tendril of smoke rose toward the slender sliver of moon in the night sky. Gooseflesh rippled over his back at the immediacy of this sign. To think that a young dragon would honor him with this proof of life so quickly! Cameron knelt on the bottom of his woven boat, pressed his forehead to the cold, damp reeds as he renewed his vow of allegiance and told himself that he should not have doubts.

  When he sat up, a cloud covered the sliver of moon and shadows obscured everything. He shivered and hoped this was not an evil omen. Picking up his paddle, he quickly moved the rest of the way to shore. With every stroke, he tried to convince himself that the creators had chosen him for something special and that all that he hoped to understand would soon be revealed. He also assured himself that the creators would help him guide the ignorant, who believed that their profits and baubles meant that they had value. When, in truth, they were merely weighing themselves down with clutter.

  When the water abruptly thinned and his dory's flat bottom scraped the rocks, he stepped out, secured its rope to a nearby stone, and then waded ashore on the only area of the harbor that didn't have a sheer drop into deep water.

  Step by step, the water pulled at the hem of his robe. Cameron smiled at the token tests the creators were giving him.

  Twice, he stubbed his toes on unseen protrusions, which hid in the shadows and he smiled. Finally, assured of his devotion, the clouds moved aside to reveal the thin foot path, which priests had used for centuries to pay tribute to Shaka-uma for leading them to this bountiful island. At least, it had been bountiful while the dragons flew over it. The trail snaked past craters that had pocked the land since the dragon father, Shaka-dun, died fighting the money-loving infidels, and his mate fled into the volcano's magma to protect her pods and escape persecution.

  Saphera leaped onto the battered shoreline and shook the water from her ivory and black coat. In the thin moonlight, her five-hundred-pound body inside the iridescent cocoon of droplets appeared delicate against the harsh beauty of the stark black rocks.

  When his steps faltered, another screech from high overhead spurred him onward.

  The farther inland Cameron O’ryan walked, the more the ground warmed and the sky lightened. He tiptoed over licorice twists of cooling lava; two steps later an unexpected acrid breath of earthly steam bathed him. He bowed, then blinked in surprise at the sight of a tiny fern that was miraculously growing in a crevice of the hot stone.

  He had never heard of anyone being given so many signs! It was almost as if the dragon-creators knew about his doubts and wanted to assure him that he was their chosen representative.

  But why him?

  Why hadn't they cured Draco Moore when he became ill? Draco Moore was more respected and actually had liked leading the flock, while Cameron had almost fled the priesthood because of his own lack of conviction.

  It was easy to doubt. Many generations had passed since anyone had claimed to see the dragon-mother, Shaka-uma. Decade after decade and century after century, it became more difficult to lead the believers when no dragons flew overhead casting their magic on the fields below. Now, people whispered that the stories about dragons living in fiery pits and coming out at night to spread fertility over the fields were silly stories grannies invented to entertain babies.

  Worse, since no dragon had been seen in generations, some doubters claimed that the dragons had never made the soil fertile.

  Others claimed they had never even existed.

  His ancestor, Draco Hale Cameron, had lived to be over a century old and even he had never known anyone who had actually seen a dragon. Now Draco Hale lay in the most sacred graveyard at the heart of the Protected Place and Fire Island's fields continued to produce a bit less each year.

  In many ways Cameron could understand why the faction that extolled earthly possessions kept gaining followers. The thoughts of the starving masses were easy to sway when they saw fat pontiffs feasting off the fruits of their schemes, instead of spending their time on honest labor.

  What if the accumulators were right?

  What if the rain and harvest ceremonies were a sham?

  Had Draco Hale really lived so long because Shaka-uma loved him or had his mother told him the story as a means to encourage a small boy, who hated sweating in the cinder fields because she’d known he’d need to hold onto something long after she was gone?
Had they sat in the shade of the sacred red blooms of the 'ohi'a trees so he would understand that the words she spoke were truth about his ancestry? Or had they sat there so he could see the blooms as he listened to her voice and believe that, if those magnificent flowers were real, that her words were, too?

  Again, the unseen night bird urged him to hurry.

  ~0~

  Pressure crushed Tem-aki in the dark unknown. She looked forward, but everything in front of her was black. She turned her gaze to the right, but only saw a menacing haze. She blinked, then looked to the left, where a rock's harsh lines seemed to blur in and out of focus in the dismal, hovering shadows. She squeezed both eyes closed, counted to one-hundred, then squinted to her left; the rock appeared more solid. She managed to draw a burning breath into her starving lungs. The more she became aware, the more suffocating her situation seemed. Tem-aki frowned, as she tried to understand her predicament, but nothing made sense. Tentatively, she took a deeper breath. It felt like she was lying under a ton of rocks, but enough oxygen made it into her aching lungs for survival. After a few more breaths, she levered herself into a sitting position, which caused the haze to thicken to near-opaque, but it also changed the weight that she felt and made it easier to breath.

  How odd.

  Dazed, she sat still. Gradually, the swirling murk surrounding her settled in a filthy film.

  Where were Thunder and Raine?

  Using the least movement possible, she keyed her analyzer. Neither of them were within range.

  I’m alone.

  Lost.

  Or maybe in the here-after.

  A chill wracked her body.

  Or else they’re behind me being quiet and the tricorder is malfunctioning, she thought, as she recalled the bizarre way its screen had rolled.

  Tem-aki shivered.

  Or else this is a really, really bad dream and I needed to wake up, she thought as she recalled all the other improbable events that had led up to the analyzer’s malfunction.