“I do not understand it in a way that can be spoken,” Raamo said, “but I feel there is harm in it.” Out of old habit, he held out his hands inviting Neric to try to grasp through mind-touch that which would not be captured in words. But Neric drew back. Once he and Raamo had been able to pense freely, but in recent months Neric’s skill had been failing. Now he pretended not to notice Raamo’s offered palms.
Jorda had been looking at Raamo with great intensity. Turning to Hiro, she grasped his arm. “Can you do anything about the banners?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. I can remind the Councilors of the true name of the Celebration and ask that that name only be used in the ceremonies and rituals—but I don’t think that they will feel it wise to replace banners or demand that they be changed.”
Raamo was clearly still troubled, but it was only too obvious that Hiro must have some time to rest before presiding over the Council meeting.
“Come, Neric, let us go,” Raamo said. “If you are going towards the public buildings, I will go with you. I would like to speak to you further.”
Farewells were spoken, and the young men departed. Having eaten hastily and finished the classification of the petitions, there remained to Hiro a short time before the hour of the Council. Gratefully he gave his body to the soft comfort of his nid. Sleep came almost at once, but it was not without dreams.
Chapter Twelve
HIRO. YOU MUST WAKE up. It will soon be time for the meeting of the Council.” It was Jorda’s voice, and it reached Hiro dimly at first, as from a great distance. For what seemed a very long time, he struggled upward towards consciousness through a thick fog of dreams. Dream images, fleeting, fading fragments, swarmed before him until, at last, his eyes opened and Jorda’s anxious troubled face replaced the thronging shadows.
“You sleep so restlessly,” Jorda was saying. “You turn and shake your head and cry out in your sleep.
“I was dreaming,” Hiro said. “I feel as if I have been dreaming for days.” Sighing, he climbed down from his nid and, reaching out for his bond partner, he drew her to him. They stood quietly for a time, encircled in each other’s arms, drawing strength from the power of their communion.
“Of what were you dreaming?” Jorda asked.
“Of many things. Many things. The past, the far past, and the long months since the Rejoyning. But just as you awakened me, I was dreaming of the two children whom I saw earlier.”
“The children? What children?”
“Two little boys. They were playing on the branch-path just outside my balcony this morning. One of them was obviously Erdling. In my dream they were again on the branchpath, playing roughly and running in circles, just as they were before and Í was watching them. But suddenly—in my dream—I knew it was terribly important that I talk to them. I knew that they were going to fall, and I felt that I must talk to them before it happened. So I ran from the chamber and all the way through the nid-place, calling to them to wait, but just as I reached the branchpath, I saw them at the very edge clinging together. And then, before I could reach them, they fell—just as they did this morning.”
“They really fell? Oh, Hiro,” Jorda said. “The Erdling child? Do you think he was injured?”
“No,” Hiro said. “I could see them as they fell. The Erdling boy clearly was not adept at gliding, but when I last saw him, he was gliding. I’m sure he reached the forest floor without injury.”
Jorda sighed with relief. “It frightens me to think of them. They might as well be without wing-panels for all they are able to make use of them.”
Turning away, Hiro went to the window and stood for a moment looking out into the forest distances.
“What is it?” Jorda’s voice broke into his musing.
“I was thinking of Axon Befal. This morning Neric brought news of him. He has disappeared from his place of exile in Farbelo. It seems that he has been gone for some time, and the Erdling guards who were assigned to him did not report his absence to the Council.”
“But why? Why would the guards fail to report his absence?”
“Who can say? Perhaps they feared they would be blamed. The Erdling Councilor to whom Neric spoke seemed to think it was only because they felt it was of little importance whether Axon lived in exile in Farbelo or in the open forest, as long as he did not return to Orbora.”
“But how can they know that he will not return? At any time he could come back to Orbora to—to do again what was done to Wassou.”
“True,” Hiro said. “At any time.”
It occurred to him, suddenly, that there might be reason to believe that Axon had already returned. He had almost put it from his mind, but now he remembered a troubling thing that Raamo had told him. Raamo had spoken of how, as he was returning from visiting the new Erdling Garden, he had suddenly received a strong pensing of evil, although the area around him appeared to be deserted. Then he had seen—or thought he had—a movement in a thicket of Vine and leaf, and had leaped from the branch without waiting to see more.
At the time, Hiro had thought—had hoped, at least— that Raamo had been mistaken. But now it seemed possible, likely even, that Raamo had indeed pensed evil; an evil so terrible that, if it had succeeded it might well have meant the end of hope and the beginning of chaos. Hiro shuddered, thinking not only of Raamo, himself, but of the barrier his blood would have been between Kindar and Erdling—a barrier more insurmountable than the Root had ever been.
“It may be,” he told Jorda, “that Axon has already attempted another attack.”
He told her then of Raamo’s suspicion that someone had been lying in wait on the high branchpath; and as he spoke, Jorda’s face told him that she too realized what the consequences might have been.
“What will you do?” she asked. “What can be done by the Council?”
“I don’t know,” Hiro said. “I will, of course, bring up the matter in the meeting today. Perhaps there is no cause for worry. Perhaps the Erdling guards are right and Axon has only gone to live in the open forest. Let us resolve to trouble ourselves no more until we know there is reason.”
But a few minutes later, when the messengers had arrived to carry the scrolls and tablets to the assembly hall, and Hiro was ready, dressed in the green shuba of a Councilor, with the gold seal of the Chief Mediator about his neck, he turned back suddenly to his bond partner.
“Jorda,” he said urgently. “Perhaps this warning is needless, but it might be best if you left the nid-place only during the hours when the branchpaths are full of people—and do not go into the midheights or near the open forest. It has occurred to me that if the Nekom would contemplate attacking Raamo, who never was a Geets-kel, there may be no way of knowing the direction their vengeance will take. Perhaps they are plotting against all who are active in the Rejoyning.”
Jorda’s eyes widened with fear. “Genaa,” she said. “Then Genaa, also, could be in danger.”
“I will see Genaa at the Council,” Hiro said. “I will speak to her.” Pressing his palms to Jorda’s and muttering the short form of the parting, he hurriedly left the nid-chamber.
His route to the Council Hall lay along the great branchways of the city, across the wide reaches of Broad and Grandgrund. At this hour, soon after midday, the branchways were crowded with people. There were many greetings. As he passed, people spoke to him, calling out, “Joy to you, Councilor,” or “May your Spirit be blessed, Chief Mediator.”
Although all the passers-by were shuba clad, it was apparent that there were many Erdlings among them. Hiro found himself looking for the clues: a difference in skin tone, a stocky build, an uncommon hairstyle. When he realized exactly what he was doing, a cold foreboding washed over him. Not for the looking itself, but for how he was looking—with fear and suspicion. If his suspicions concerning Axon—and at this point they were only suspicions—could so influence him, what would be the reaction of the other Councilors, of all the Kindar? What would be the effect on the Rejoyning if it became
known that Erdlings had tried to take the life of Raamo, who had become almost as much a symbol of faith and hope as the holy children themselves.
Hiro reached the hall in an agony of indecision: should he immediately bring up the matter of Axon’s disappearance or wait, in hope that it would be revealed—as it should be—by an Erdling Councilor? And should he speak at all of the possibility that the Nekom had attempted to attack Raamo? Finally, as the last group of Erdling Councilors arrived, he came to a partial decision.
He would not at once bring up the matter of Axon’s disappearance. According to Neric, some of the Erdlings had known of it for some time; and properly, it would be their duty to inform the Council. Perhaps the Erdlings would speak to the Council concerning Axon’s flight from Farbelo, and it was possible that they might even have a solution. Just possibly, too, something might happen that would make it unnecessary to speak of his suspicion that Axon Befal had attempted to take the life of Raamo D’ok.
The meeting was long and difficult. One by one, Hiro introduced the many problems that had been brought to him since the time of the last meeting: problems concerning fears and misunderstandings, complaints and tensions, differences and prejudices that had arisen in almost every area where there had been contact between Erdling and Kindar.
Much time passed before all these matters were introduced. When, at last, they had all been spoken of, although by no means resolved, it was time to open the discussion to the rest of the Council. Turning first to D’ol Falla, Hiro asked if she had knowledge of any other urgent matter that should be brought before the meeting.
Smiling ruefully, D’ol Falla shook her head. “I have nothing to add to your burdens today,” she said. “And I would suggest that any further discussion today be limited to matters of utmost urgency. It would seem to me that the mind can stand only so much troubling in a short space of time, and I think that limit has been reached, by all of us—and most particularly, by our Chief Mediator.”
All around the long table-board, heads nodded in agreement, but it appeared that many matters of utmost urgency remained to be dealt with. Or perhaps it was simply that life in Green-sky had reached the point where every problem was urgent, in that it might, at any time, grow into a great and uncontrollable blossoming of evil. It was the fear of such blossoming that had haunted the dreams of many for months, and that had driven Hiro on far past the point of human endurance.
It was his daughter, Genaa, who spoke next, of a matter that she had brought before the Council several times before, but for which there had been no solution. It concerned the spreading use of the pavo-berry, not only by the Kindar, but more recently in Erdling communities as well. Daily, more and more victims of the addictive berry were being brought to the healing centers. Some weeks earlier, crews of workmen had been sent out to destroy every pavo-vine in the forest around Orbora, but now it seemed that berries were being brought into the city from distant sources. Genaa asked the Council to investigate these sources and put an end to the deadly trafficking. The Councilors who had been in charge of the pavo-vine work crews agreed to renew their efforts, and the discussion passed to other matters.
Neric had been indicating for some time that he wished to be recognized. If called upon, there could be little doubt that he would bring up the disappearance of Axon Befal, and Hiro was still hoping that an Erdling Councilor would be the first to inform the Council that the Nekom leader had fled. Hesitating, Hiro noticed that Raamo, too, wished to speak.
“Raamo,” Hiro said, “did you wish to address the Council?”
It was not often that Raamo spoke before the Council, and even now he seemed hesitant, uncertain.
“I don’t want ... I know it will seem unimportant ... when there are so many problems, but will you mention to the Councilors the matter about which I spoke to you this morning? Will you ask the Councilors to remind the people about the banners, the banners that are being hung in honor of the Celebration? Will you remind them that the banners should proclaim the Celebration of the Rejoyning—and not the holy children?”
Around the table-board people glanced at one another, and there were smiles and lifted eyebrows. It was clear that no one took the warning very seriously, and yet there was among the Councilors much Love and respect for Raamo, and no desire to hurt or embarrass him. It was D’ol Falla who spoke at last, and her mind was open and unblocked so that Raamo could pense that her words spoke fully of her meanings, with no secret thought beneath them.
“Raamo,” she said, “we have all heard you speak before of your feeling that there is danger in the peoples’ tendency to idolize Pomma and Teera and the miracle they produced on the day of the Rejoyning. As you know very well, I have great faith in your gift of Spirit and in the truth of your instincts. And I think that I can understand what it is that you fear—at least in part. I can see that your sister and Teera are very young to bear such a burden of responsibility. We who were once Ol-zhaan have reason to know that honor and glory can be very dangerous. Like you, I would wish to spare the children from all such perils, but I am beginning to wonder if it will be possible.”
Then Neric burst in eagerly. “D’ol Falla speaks the truth, Raamo. Your concern for your sister and Teera is natural. They are young, it is true, but I think they are mature beyond their years. Only yesterday, when I was at the palace, I spoke to them, and it seemed to me that their responsibilities to the people and to the Rejoyning is of great concern to them.”
“Neric!” Raamo said. “Neric! What did—”
But suddenly Hiro’s patience was exhausted, and he interrupted bluntly. “Raamo! Neric!” he said. “There is no longer time for such discussions. What we have heard here today makes it clear that our problems are daily growing more dangerous. The Root is dead, but the evil that it started no longer needs a Root in order to flourish. I think the time has come when we must use the children in whatever way we can if Green-sky is going to survive. I am afraid, Raamo, I am terribly afraid, that the children are our only hope. We must have faith of some kind, and the people have put their faith in the children. They alone unite us.”
No one looked at Raamo, or if they did, they quickly turned away. Instead, they looked to the Chief Mediator, agreeing with him and asking that assemblies and processions be planned, at which the children could be seen and honored. A Kindar Councilor suggested that the newsingers could be given statements, made by the children, exhorting the people to forget their fears and differences and work together for the good of all. Several Erdling members urged that the children be taken in procession to all the surface cities—perhaps daily, at least for a while.
“I’m sure it would make a great difference,” one of the Erdling Councilors said. “There was, in the beginning, so much hope, so much faith in the children, among our people. I’m sure that if that faith could be renewed and encouraged, it would erase many suspicions and resentments.”
Hiro D’anhk acknowledged the speakers and listened to their suggestions without commenting. He found that he did not, in truth, know what he wanted to say. There was a part of his mind that held back with a cold weary denial of all that was being said. A part of that denial came, he knew, from the fact that no Erdling had as yet spoken of the disappearance of Axon Befal, and another part came from the protest written on Raamo’s face. But at the same time he felt a great desire to forget all doubt and denial and go with the great wave of enthusiasm and hope that was sweeping the Council.
It’s true, he told himself. The people’s faith in the children may still save us. They truly are our last hope.
It was then, no more than a few minutes after Hiro had conceded that there was no hope except in the faith inspired and symbolized by the holy children, that a figure burst through the doorhangings at the far end of the great chamber and ran down the long aisle towards the Council board. It was a woman, a small Kindar woman, her familiar face made almost unrecognizable by fear and grief. A sharp thrill of fear shook Hiro as he realized that it was He
arba D’ok, the mother of Raamo—and Pomma.
“They’re gone,” Hearba gasped as she reached the table-board. “The children are gone.”
Chapter Thirteen
FOR THE FIRST TIME IN his life Hiro D’anhk knew complete despair. Once—almost three years before—when he had awakened to find himself alone in the utter darkness of the tunnels, he had known a terrible despairing fear. But even then, knowing himself to be below the Root, lost in an endless labyrinth, helpless and alone, there had still remained a tiny, unquenchable flicker of hope. But in the darkness he now knew, there was no light at all.
Clinging to the table-board for support, breathless from haste and fear, Hearba D’ok told the Council her story. Some two hours before, she had gone into the children’s chambers and found them empty. For a while she had searched and called alone. Then she had summoned all the service people of the palace, and with their help, the search had been continued. Every inch of the Vine Palace had been scoured, but to no avail. The children were not there.
But something had been found that confirmed her growing fear. One of the palace women had discovered a rope attached to the outer corner of Teera’s balcony. The rope was freshly woven of honey vine, and it was long enough to reach down to the next grund level below the palace.
“Every entryway has been guarded in recent weeks,” Hearba said. “So whoever brought the rope must have arrived by gliding and departed the same way. But Teera cannot glide, so the rope must have been used to lower her down to someone who waited below.”
“But isn’t it possible that they went off on their own, on an exploration, as children will?” someone asked, but Hearba shook her head.
“The vine that was used to weave the rope does not grow in Temple Grove. Someone brought it to the palace. And whoever it was—” Hearba stopped, fighting to control her voice. “Whoever it was took Pomma and Teera away with them.”
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