“The first surprise was not being eaten by him. Now that I’m safe from being squashed by his big feet, I realize how gentle he is. His heart is as big as those feet. Oh, and he cries, like the humans. You don’t want to be standing directly below him when he does. It’s like being in a cloudburst. And he’s dedicated. He’s kept the swamp safe from humans all these years.”
“What are his weaknesses?” Orion asked.
“No self-confidence. He thinks he’s Chosen only because his parents told him so. He doesn’t feel it. He’s too busy beating himself up for not having lived up to his destiny. Our meeting may have raised his self-esteem, and maybe he isn’t so mad at the Mother for sticking him in the swamp.”
“What about his hatred of the humans?” Bast asked.
“That’s a big hairball to spit out, probably for all the animals of the swamp. It’s hard to love those who want to wipe out your world. I need to take the girl there as soon as possible.”
Orion nodded. “And we need to find out what the humans are up to.”
“We’ll go back to the city and nose around,” Sekhmet said.
While the others talked Tara searched for more impressions of the dragons. The outside world dimmed; she hardly heard Senti speaking to her or Bast saying, “She’s in trance. Be silent.”
Druid, Druid, Tara whispered silently. She saw his funny wet eyes, his toothy grin. The thought of his surprisingly delicate paws called forth a surge of warmth in her. How strange that the scrape of scales could be as caressing as silky fur and that a creature so large and ungainly could have his own kind of beauty and grace.
It was strangest of all to realize that she had begun to love him. Her heart tightened with fear when she saw marching humans who shouted, “Kill the dragon!” She mewed frantically.
Orion put his huge paws on her trembling shoulders. “Speak.”
“The answer was there all the time,” she wailed. “They’ll take the swamp by killing him.”
Chapter 17
During the next few days Serazina wished that she could go into the woods, hide in a cave, and try to untangle the mess her life had become. Instead she was reminded of that mess every time a villager congratulated her.
“Imagine it, the Guardian himself coming to your home.”
“You’ve brought pride to Oasis West.”
“Maybe other young people will have a chance now.”
Not everyone was happy. In school, where others were going through their final placement interviews, she encountered resentment.
Clona, who had been assigned to work in the fields, said, “No more hauling dirty laundry for you.”
Some future field workers wouldn’t even speak to Serazina. When she passed them in the halls, they turned their heads.
“It almost makes me glad I’m leaving,” she said to Berto on the last day of school. “I wish I could tell them that I’d much rather go to the fields.”
“They’d never believe you, but don’t take it personally. One guy said I must have pulled strings to get sent to the architectural college. Little does he know I won’t spend a minute there. It’s time to start planning our move.”
Tamaras. Only thoughts of leaving kept her sane.
Serazina had just come back from school when Elissia stormed into the house, her braid flying like a kite tail. “If I hadn’t been working overtime the past few days, I would have come sooner. Fiola’s beside herself that you might get to mate with the Guardian. I nearly puked.”
“You nearly puked? I lied to her, just so she wouldn’t pack me off to the head shredders.”
Fiola flew in through the door. “The mayor and Malvern Frost have called for a great celebration. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Wonderful,” Elissia said in a solemn tone. “But why not? Serazina saved the nation. Now, if you’ll excuse us, my heroic sister and I have some catching up to do.”
They walked out to the pond and sat on the bench. “I don’t trust Malvern Frost,” Elissia said. “Since when does he call for celebrations? Especially when the drought is beginning? I keep on designing short-term proposals for water conservation. He looks at them and says, ‘Very nice.’ Then he ignores them.”
Serazina trembled. “Still getting the shakes?” Elissia asked her.
“It’s like looking at pieces of a broken vase. I know that they fit together, but if I pick them up I’ll bleed, and nothing will ever be like it was. Malvern is part of it.”
“From the rumors in the city, Malvern is part of everything. What about the Guardian? He was obviously impressed by you.”
“Was he? Or didn’t he know what to do with me? It doesn’t matter.” She lowered her voice. “Berto and I are leaving soon.”
“Thank Zena, not that we have much to thank her for—unless we do. Have you heard this rumor that she left a last testament calling for the overhaul of the entire philosophy of Oasis?”
“Just hints of it. I heard Janzi speak on Founder’s Day.”
“She’s everywhere ever since the attempted assassination, telling people that no Earther would try to kill the Speaker but that the Godlies are worthy of suspicion. I heard the Godlies nearly caught her one day, but a bunch of Earthers who were built like trees blocked their passage. The mood in the city has changed since she started showing up. People are feeling more hopeful, and I think they’re going Earther in droves. I’m feeling a little that way myself, but I’d like to read that testament first. It’s part of being a Mind person. I need facts and evidence.”
Serazina lowered her voice. “I think the Earthers are right. Maybe they don’t have the whole picture, but they’re looking for it. But, Elissia, I’m afraid that soon it’s going to be very dangerous to be an Earther.”
“I think it’s going to be dangerous to be any kind of Oasan,” Elissia said. “Things have gotten very serious with me and my boyfriend. But he’s only a clerk and pure Dolocairner. I know they’re going to give me the old dragon shit about not diluting my excellent genes.”
“Get pregnant,” Serazina suggested. “I’ve heard you can find people in the Bazaar who remove anti-pregnancy implants.”
“But did you know that all unauthorized pregnancies are subject to abortion? I couldn’t go through that. Larros and I may be following you across the mountains.”
“I wish I were leaving today,” Serazina said. “How am I going to get through this celebration? All those people, and they’re good people, so proud of me—”
Elissia gripped her shoulders, her eyes black fire. “Listen to me. That’s how they get you. You have less to feel guilty about than anyone in this country. You risked your life to save the Guardian. If you never do another thing for Oasis, you’ve done much more than enough.”
“Dinner,” Fiola called.
Before they went to the celebration, Elissia and Serazina went up to her room. Once the door was closed Elissia pulled out a flask of liquor. “It’s Etrenzian cactus brandy, really strong. It’ll help you get through this ordeal.”
Serazina decided that the occasion called for an exception to her no-drinking rule. She took a sip and coughed. “Strong isn’t the word.”
“Good, isn’t it?” Elissia had a swig, too. “Let’s go. Be careful not to breathe on the parents.”
* * *
Phileas couldn’t have imagined that anything could trouble him more than the fanatic Godlies, the troublesome Earthers, his insane mother, Malvern Frost’s machinations, and the reappearance of the dragon. These problems still occupied his thoughts, but the fate of a disturbing girl had assumed priority ever since he’d visited Serazina.
It was, of course, utterly illogical. The cause of national security had given him every right to go into her mind. The need to develop promising youth made it necessary for him to find a place for her in the hierarchy, and the pressing urgency to give Oasis an heir obliged him to consider her as breeding material. To feel guilty about these correct decisions was inexcusable.
Yet this sodden emoti
on had trailed him for several days. He would recapture the image of Serazina and Berto holding hands and remember her fear of having her mind invaded. If only to free himself of guilt, he was tempted to let her live a mindless life in the fields and marry her love, but that would represent sentimentality and weakness. If he couldn’t resist the tug of emotions, how could he expect any other citizen to do so?
Most inexcusable of all, he vacillated between standing firm and letting her go several times a day. No wonder the nausea that had overtaken him the morning after his visit frequently visited his miserable digestive system. He was half-afraid to eat even the bland foods that made up his diet.
The last thing he wanted to do was to see her at the village celebration, but Malvern would certainly attend, and Phileas needed to observe him in his native habitat.
He stood in front of his closet, trying to decide whether to wear his official robes. Finally, deciding that for once in his life he didn’t want to stand out, he put on a dark-blue tunic and trousers.
* * *
Everyone of any significance made speeches, and Serazina had a glass of wine while she waited for her turn. She tried to remember the few words she’d thought of saying.
“I want to thank the Guardian for the honor he has given me.”
Each time she tried to repeat that to herself, she lost a few more of the words, but she cared a little less. She didn’t want to thank the Guardian for anything. Given another glass of wine, she would curse him.
Someone helped her climb the steps to the platform, and she hoped she wasn’t going to have to stand, because she already felt herself swaying.
The Mayor gave her the key to the town. That was funny, because the town didn’t have a gate. What, she wondered, as she expressed appreciation for the clunky iron key, did it open?
A delegation of workers from Johar’s fields came up to the platform with a bouquet of wildflowers. “And Miss Serazina,” their leader said, “is the fairest flower of them all.”
She thought of them as she stood up to speak. “I hope everyone here is proud, not because of me, but because of the work you do. Intelligence isn’t only in the mind but in the body. It’s wrong to scorn field workers for living close to the earth and getting dirt on their hands. Everyone’s food comes from that dirt. Those who pretend otherwise aren’t using their minds.”
Time to sit down before she made a complete idiot of herself. “So be proud, all of you. Be proud if your daughter becomes a Healer. Be proud if she works in the fields.” Shut up! “Thank you.”
Serazina climbed down from the platform and looked for a place where she could be alone and possibly vomit. As she stumbled towards the public restrooms, she almost ran into the Guardian, who stood in the crowd, surrounded by bodyguards.
“Guardian!” She jumped in panic.
His eyes flickered with shock. “What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding like a human being who cared, like a man whose heart beat, however faintly, inside a wall of Mind.
Could she tell him the truth?
It probably happened because she was drunk, but she saw the Green Lady shimmering before her. Her outstretched arms and the smile that turned Her eyes to emeralds shouted, yes.
Even though Serazina thought she was crazy and would probably end up with scrambled brains for her reckless behavior, she said, “Guardian, can I talk to you privately?”
“Of course.”
One of his bodyguards said, “With all respect, it isn’t safe, Guardian. You know this is Earther country.”
The Guardian turned to her. “What if we went to your house? My men have patrolled its grounds before.”
Yes, home, where she felt safest.
They walked the short distance in silence, and Serazina unlocked the front door. She tried to break the awkward silence between them. “Before the Earthers we never locked the door. Come in. Would you like something to drink?”
He sat down in the chair where her father usually sat. “I’m sure I’ve had more than enough of that. Sit, please. I’ve agreed to speak with you because I think it may be important. At this point any words may be important, but especially enlightenment from one who remains such a mystery to me. I have to return to the celebrations soon, though, so I must ask you to skip the preliminaries.”
“All right, but I’m not good at saying things, with or without preliminaries, especially something like this.”
The Guardian nodded, his shoulders slumped with the weight of unbearable burdens. “Perhaps I can make it easier for you. I suspect it has something to do with this mating business. The whole thing is distasteful to you, isn’t it?”
Serazina wished the alcohol weren’t fuzzing up her brain. “It’s nothing personal. I mean, I’m sure you’re a very nice person, but—”
“You’re not sure of that at all,” he said, “and who could blame you? I’m the distant figure who issues proclamations every now and then and comes to your house and insists on reading your deepest secrets, although I failed. Sex, by the way, would be neutral in comparison. Would you feel better knowing that the whole idea of mating to create an heir has become distasteful to me, too?”
Suddenly she saw the Guardian, day after weary day, having sex with a parade of candidates and hating it. His repugnance was sour in her throat. “Put an end to the practice!” she cried. “Marry some nice woman and take your chances on getting an Heir.”
His eyes, downcast before, suddenly blazed. “Too much is at stake. The future of Oasis depends on a strong Guardian.”
“But what if it doesn’t? What if that’s part of the problem? Maybe Oasis needs to change.” She covered her mouth. “I didn’t mean that, really. I had too much to drink. I’m just a stupid girl. I don’t know anything.”
He gave her a slow, sad gaze. “What’s happened to us when our young people are afraid to criticize? Rebels founded our nation. What have we done? What have I done? Lately, I think I want nothing less than to wish this kind of uncertainty and suffering on any child of mine.”
Serazina didn’t think he was crying—surely the Guardian never cried—but she sensed misery crumbling the walls that protected him from emotion. “I’m sorry,” she said. “If I could help, but not that way, please. Can’t you find me unsuitable? I am, you know.”
“I’m not at all certain of that, but …”
She held her breath. The Guardian’s face remained composed, but she sensed a struggle within him.
Finally he exhaled softly, an act that seemed to soften his furrowed brow and soften his eyes. “To command you against your will would be more than distasteful. Nor do I think the Heir should have an unwilling mother. I shall release you from any obligation. If I promise to take no action against you, would you tell me who you really are?”
She hesitated. The truth clattered around in her head and tightened her stomach until she thought she might vomit.
“Serazina, I promise with a pledge as binding as that which I took when I became the Guardian that you can trust me.”
“You won’t send me to the brain shredders?”
He winced. “I vow.”
“All right. I don’t know who I really am,” she said, “but I’ll never find out here. Guardian, I promise not to be a problem for this country. I won’t stick around and contaminate anything. Berto and I want to leave as soon as possible. Don’t tell my mother.”
She covered her mouth and looked at him with horror. “I didn’t mean to say that.”
His mouth became a thin, unhappy curve. “Your secret is safe with me, although I’m more than sorry to hear it. When our best young people think they can no longer live here, what will Oasis become?”
“It’s become a prison to me,” Serazina said. “For as long as I can remember I felt things deeply. At home and in school we were all taught that deep emotions signified weak minds, but I couldn’t believe that something so much a part of me could be false. All I could do was try to hide it by learning to give the appearance of a good, well, a fair s
tudent and a loyal citizen.”
His black eyes regarded her. “I don’t believe you’re weak of mind at all. None of our scientists or leaders has ever denied that emotion has power. If it didn’t, would we be concerned about it? Your emotions contaminate what may be an excellent mind, not only because you refuse to control them, but also because they disturb you. Worry, anxiety, and fear always weaken the mind.”
Clever as he was, something was wrong with his reasoning. “I’m not sure,” she said.
“Let me try a different approach. You’re angry at the Oasan philosophy because it dictates the superiority of mind over emotion. Yet you turn it upside down by declaring that emotions are superior to mind. You cling to them with great stubbornness because no one wants you to have them. All the while, you neglect the priceless resource of your mind. Use it for just one minute. You can read people, like the would-be assassin—”
“But I read his emotions!”
“Ah, finally we come to some kind of truth. Do you think I don’t read emotions? What you can’t do is read without absorbing. To go into a disturbed consciousness upsets you because you haven’t been trained in the art of detachment, a training your healing apprenticeship would have given you. If you could fully appreciate your mind, you’d give up those stubborn emotions in a moment.”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“That’s more stubbornness speaking.”
“No, it isn’t. I’m using my mind now, Guardian. If you could convince me that we can live in a way that values both emotions and mind, I wouldn’t leave Oasis.”
His shoulders sagged. “It would go against all I believe.”
“And that’s the problem. When you shield yourself from emotions by judging them inferior to Mind, you don’t get to read their truth.”
“They are inferior.” His voice was firm, but his eyes were those of a lost kitten.
“Are they?”
“What do you expect me to say? The Guardian is the embodiment of Mind. It has been that way almost from the beginning, and one Guardian trains the Guardian-elect in emotional austerity, to think of himself as different from others. It means having others think of me as cold. It means bearing loneliness.”
He rose from his chair. “I need to get back to the celebrations.”
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