Interphase

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Interphase Page 8

by Kira Wilson


  Before long, David found himself alone with Analara and finished the remainder of his soup without interruption. It was the first time he had been under the full sun in the module, and whether it was a trick of the light or merely how her hair was colored, David noticed that Analara's brown hair was tinged with an emerald sheen. He looked around at others and detected more faint colorings. He wondered if it had some hidden significance.

  David noticed something else as well: how different everyone looked from each other. There were hardly any shared features at all. It was a strange enough observation that he asked Analara about it.

  Her smile became distant. "Varlath is Ilinar's guardian patriarch. We are not without hardship here. If a child loses their parents, or parents their children, he invites them into his home. He believes that no one should be without a family."

  If a child loses their… David glanced at Varlath, then back to Analara, noting the wistful look on her face. "Your parents?"

  Analara sighed. "I sing their names in my sleep, but I was too young to remember them when they died. I don't think they would want me to be sad, so I try not to be. No matter the past, my family is here now."

  David nodded sadly. "I know what that's like. My dad had an accident when I was young. He didn't die, but it's the closest thing to it. A sleep you never wake from."

  "What is his name?"

  "Jonathan Harris."

  "May I sing his name for you?"

  "I think he would like that. Thank you."

  As if sensing the change in mood, Varlath came to the table, smiling at David's empty bowl. "It's such a nice day outside. If you feel up to it, why not go for a stroll? Analara can show you the rest of the city."

  "Would that be permitted?" Analara asked.

  "I don't see why not, as long as David is under your care. Go on, off with the two of you!"

  Taking his hand, Analara led David outside through a well-tended garden. Looking behind, he could see that Varlath's home sprawled near a length of ten-foot stone wall that was covered heavily by large vines.

  By this time the sun was almost in the middle of the sky, and activity about the city seemed to be in full swing. They passed by other homes, considerably smaller than Varlath's, all with stretches of intense greenery cultivated around them. Soon they walked through an alley that opened up to a tradesman's district. Workshops devoted to pottery and weaving, wood-crafting and stone-carving, all occupied and active, met David's gaze. Many people nodded and waved to Analara. They spared David a curious glance, but so far no one gave him the attention that Varlath's family had. He guessed that word about a stranger's arrival had not traveled very far yet; he wondered how long his anonymity would last.

  Analara led the way to a workshop at the end of the square. Bunches of herbs were drying from the ceiling, and various clay jars lined the shelves. No one was inside, and Analara gave a disappointed sigh.

  "I had hoped to introduce you to my master, Nathalion. He must be tending to something."

  "Is he the one who taught you how to treat injuries?"

  She nodded. "He is the Artisan of the Natural World. Natural remedies and cures are one of his specialties. It is also his duty to tend to the Rethkor's heartroot."

  "What's that?"

  "You saw the great vine that grows on the city walls? It is a very old plant and the protector of Ilinar. It is our greatest defense against anything that would attack us."

  David heard the sounds of a friendly commotion just outside the workshop and poked his head out. A group of four young men were playing a game. They carried flat bats with nets attached to the end and tossed a ball back and forth. After a few minutes of watching, it seemed almost like a rotating game of dodge ball, where one of the players would be chosen as the target for the other three.

  "Rupu!" Analara called out. One of the players, a tall, strong looking fellow, turned and strolled up to them. David sized him up as he approached. "I wondered where you disappeared to so early."

  "I'm surprised you noticed I was gone at all, with all of the excitement your invalid has caused." Rupu leveled his bright gray eyes squarely at David, a smile just barely touching his lips. "It seems he's recovered well enough."

  "I had a skilled healer watching over me," David replied, turning a smile to Analara.

  Rupu tossed the ball from hand to hand idly. "You're the one that she had to rescue a few days ago, right? What got you this time?"

  "She said it was called a feranal," he said, his back stiffening at Rupu's thinly veiled contempt. He snuck a glance at Analara, who was staring at Rupu with a mixture of shock and confusion.

  "A feranal? You managed to blunder into one of them?" Rupu raised an eyebrow. "I see no weapons on you. How did you manage to run away?"

  "Rupu, who is this devkan anyway?" one of the other players asked.

  "Just a stranger 'Nala found wandering around the woods a couple days ago." The volume of his voice rose to fill the courtyard. Those nearby paused in their tasks to glance at the disturbance.

  David and Rupu kept their eyes locked on each other until the latter rubbed his chin in sudden thought. "Personally, I think you're a bit skinny to take on a full-grown feranal. We need to verify your claim." He tossed the ball, and it thudded against David's chest. "Think you can handle a friendly game?" He managed to make friendly sound threatening.

  "Rupu, that is enough." Analara's voice soared with outrage.

  He turned and regarded her with detached calm. "You expect us to believe the word of this stranger just because he happens to be your patient? I'm sorry, 'Nala, but I don't have your easy trust. He'll have to prove himself."

  Analara looked like she might strangle something, but Rupu returned his gaze to David. "So. What will it be, stranger?"

  David's smile was grim. He threw the ball back at Rupu, forcefully. "I'm game."

  Rupu turned back to the yard. "Try not to bleed on my shirt."

  Conscious of the looks fixed on him, David pulled the shirt over his head, tossed it to Analara and flexed his muscles. "Just show me how to play."

  Chapter 10

  Shalaron left his personal quarters within the temple. The Siathrak emissary was already waiting in the central chamber. Upon seeing his arrival, the priest placed his closed fists together and bowed. "Honored Sage," he intoned ceremoniously.

  Shalaron mirrored the motion. "Faithful messenger," he responded. Gesturing to the nearby cushions, he sat down and rang for his attendants.

  "High Priest Totarakh sends his blessings upon your city. It has been ten days of travel from the Great Temple to the plains of Danlur. Sage Aten reported a most prosperous harvest this season, and asked me to convey his greetings to you."

  "May the winds cool his fields," Shalaron responded. A pair of servants entered from an antechamber, bearing bowls of chilled fruit and cups of lispin. He motioned for the emissary to sample the refreshment. "What news of the city of Fayn?"

  The emissary ate a norn berry and frowned. "Troubled times have come to Fayn. They neglected the bounty bestowed upon them last year. The land has turned against them, and they find themselves short of sustenance. Some have perished. Wisely, the city now seeks penance."

  Shalaron selected a berry for himself and chewed it thoughtfully. "Perhaps our Artisan of the Field may be able to offer some advice in mastering their crops. I will have him send word to them."

  "It is most generous of you to offer, great Sage."

  Further news was passed between them until the bowl of fruit was empty. The emissary drained his cup, and his face took on a troubled expression.

  "There was a dark occurrence upon our journey to your city. A day from your walls, the temple guards were attacked several times by creatures of the wild, both those of the field and those of the hunt. Even a feranal emerged under the sun and struck at us."

  Shalaron's eyes narrowed, but he did not interrupt.

  "My guards were able to destroy the creatures, for we are fortified by the power
of Siath, but the attacks are worrisome. I believe that some evil power may be nesting near Ilinar. You would do well to uproot it, lest you lose the favor of the heavens."

  Bristling at the concealed rebuke, Shalaron nodded and stood, signaling an end to the audience.

  "I thank you for your courtesy, honored Sage." The emissary rose and bowed. "I shall take the tidings of Ilinar with me and continue my journey."

  "Your caravan has been supplied for the travail to Len," Shalaron told him. "Is there any other service that we may offer the Siathrak?"

  "No, my lord," the emissary intoned. "Until we meet again, may Siath show you favor." He bowed a final time and left through the temple entrance.

  Shalaron spared only a glance to ensure the emissary had left and headed for his office. The Siathrak were pompous and self-righteous, but his people needed belief to sustain themselves, so he endured the archaic rituals and the pandering attitudes. He was forced to agree with the emissary on one account, though; an unnatural presence had been tugging at his mind for the last few days.

  Walking into the office, Shalaron tossed the ornate ceremonial cloak from his shoulders with a sigh of relief. Halathas was already there waiting for him. "Was there any valuable news from the Siathrak, my lord?" he inquired.

  "Very little of consequence," Shalaron said, sitting at his table and examining a sheaf of documents. "There were animal attacks near the city. Have the guards keep a thorough watch for anything nearby. What do you have to report of the city itself?"

  "Business proceeds as usual. The yield from the farms continues to be high, and the excess food is being prepared and stored with no difficulty. I do have one event of note, however. Some of the townsfolk overheard a discussion this morning regarding the admittance of an injured stranger last night."

  Shalaron's gaze sharpened. "A stranger?"

  Halathas nodded. "I questioned the western guards about the report," he continued. "They verified that Nathalion's pupil found a young man who had suffered heavy injury from an animal attack. They rendered assistance in moving him to Varlath's home for care."

  "What city was he from?"

  "The guards did not know, as the stranger was unconscious before they were able to ask."

  Shalaron threaded his fingers together and lapsed into thought. "This bears investigating. Cancel my afternoon audience. I will look into this myself."

  Halathas crossed his arms and paused before speaking. "Though I am distressed to learn of this occurrence second-hand, I must say the news itself does not seem noteworthy enough to trouble you directly. Allow me to go in your stead, my lord."

  Shalaron smiled. "As always, old friend, I appreciate your forthrightness, but this seems connected to threads that run darker and deeper. I will perceive the truth of the matter with my own eyes."

  Halathas's expression reflected his disagreement, but he did not argue the point.

  "Oversee the departure of the emissary's caravan. If anything else happens above the ordinary, inform me immediately."

  Halathas bowed. "As you command, my lord Sage."

  Shalaron rose to his feet and strode from the room.

  ***

  "The rules of the game are simple." Rupu handed David a netted bat from a pile of spares. "The ball is tossed between us until a thrower calls 'Sage'. Whoever receives that throw will call out the 'Adept'. The players will then try to hit the Adept with the ball."

  The ball left Rupu's hand suddenly and thudded against one of his friends' shoulders, the black-haired youth who had catcalled David. "You see? I tagged Tintal, which would award me a mark if he was the Adept. If he had caught it, then he would become Sage and choose a new Adept. If he had struck it at someone and hit them, he would get one of their marks. Once a mark is awarded, we start again. The first to reach five marks wins."

  Rupu grinned at Analara. "'Nala's quite good at this game. Maybe if we ask nicely, she'll keep tally for us?"

  Analara scowled fiercely. "This is absurd. He's not fully recovered yet!"

  "It's all right, Analara," David said, still staring at Rupu. "I'm fine, thanks to you. Besides, this should be… fun."

  Rupu chuckled.

  They started out in a ring, tossing the ball back and forth. Sometimes they caught it in the net before throwing, or struck it with the bat immediately. David swung his stick a few times between throws, getting a feel for it. When the ball reached him, he hit it across the ring to a muscular young man the others called Doan. "At least he didn't drop it on the first hit," Tintal muttered.

  Doan shouted, "Sage," throwing the ball Rupu's way. He eyed David with a grin before calling his name, and the other players circled around him. David had been expecting this and ducked beneath the first throw. Doan caught it and fired back. Again, David dodged. When Tintal made a lazy toss at him, David swung his stick, sending the ball flying back. It thumped Tintal's chest hard and fell to the ground.

  "First mark to David," Analara declared.

  The ball sailed between the players. Figuring it was better to know your enemies directly, David called Sage and threw to Rupu, preparing to spring.

  "Elarneh," Rupu shouted, and launched the ball. David blinked in surprise; so did Elarneh, but he managed to dodge at the last moment. Tintal hurled the ball at Elarneh's feet, but it was deflected away. Doan dove for the ball and threw a lightning fast toss that caught Elarneh's knee. Another mark.

  The game had attracted a small crowd from the marketplace, but David forced himself to ignore them. The ball moved quickly, and alliances changed at a whim as the marks piled up. He was surprised when Rupu made him the Sage, but he used it to his advantage to gain another mark off Tintal.

  After several rounds, Doan was in the lead with three marks, while David and Rupu were tied at two. Again, David was the Sage; he yelled Rupu's name and sent the ball flying. Rupu dodged it before it slammed his shoulder, but a strike from behind awarded another mark to Doan. Rupu ended as Sage and called David in response. Aiming for David's face, he hurled the ball, only to have David's backswing return it. Rupu tried to block, but the ball struck him in the chest, gaining David a third mark.

  A strong wind kicked dust up from the street and swirled around the players, bringing the game to a halt. When it subsided, there was a new man standing in the square. He was robed in flowing garments of dark blue that seemed to match the blue sheen of his black, shoulder-length hair. The only sign of age on him was wisps of gray at his temples. He looked about the square, and whoever his gaze fell on sank to one knee. His dark brown eyes looked at David, who lowered his head. This was someone important.

  "Has your challenge been satisfied, Rupu?" His voice rang across the courtyard.

  Rupu drew his gaze from the ground to glance at David, his face completely earnest. "It has, my Sage."

  "Good. I wish to speak with this stranger. Go about your day."

  The villagers and merchants got to their feet and returned to their stalls. Rupu and his friends scattered. Soon it was Analara and David standing alone in the square. Analara flinched when the man looked at her, but she stood resolute at David's side.

  "Stranger, I am Shalaron, Sage and ruler of Ilinar. What is the name of your own city and its Sage?"

  David swallowed, uncertain how to respond. He couldn't risk breaking character and offending Analara, but whatever answer he gave was sure not to satisfy this imposing figure. "My home is very far away, my lord. The city is called Terra, ruled over by our Sage, Vera."

  Shalaron's eyes narrowed warily. "I have never heard of such a place."

  "It is," David swallowed, "a very long way from here."

  "How did you travel so far alone?"

  "Forgive me, my lord, but I must confess some uncertainty. There was a…" David thought back to Analara's comments about sages. "I somehow opened a gateway from my home. When I stepped through, I found myself near here." He hoped his explanation would suffice.

  Silence fell across the courtyard, and David could almost feel
his soul being judged. Shalaron's gaze speared into David's eyes before falling to his bare chest. Even in this light, the scars of the past day's attack could barely be seen. "It has been reported to me that you were brought here last night, severely injured."

  David hesitated, then nodded. "That is true."

  "What was the cause of your injuries?"

  "I was attacked by a wild creature. I am told it is called a feranal."

  "You have healed quickly." Suspicion was thick in his voice.

  "A skilled healer tended to me." David touched Analara's arm. She glanced at him meekly, then quickly lowered her gaze.

  "I recognize you," Shalaron said, looking at Analara. "Nathalion's apprentice. The one who enjoys wandering in the wilderness near nightfall."

  Analara's eyes widened, and David thought she might faint.

  "Stand up, Analara." Shalaron waited until she had complied, then pinned David again with his stare. "Can you verify the words of this stranger?"

  "M-my lord Sage, I…" She squeezed David's hand. "While I did not witness his arrival, I found David in the woods yesterday, badly injured. His wounds were consistent with those made by a feranal. In the short time I have known David, I have found him to be truthful."

  Shalaron opened his mouth to speak, but a strange look crossed his face. He frowned, shaking his head and closing his eyes. When he opened them again, he was glaring. "Follow," he commanded in a tone that compelled obedience. David and Analara chased after him through the square.

  He led them to the nearest section of the city wall, where pulsing tendrils covered the gray stone. The battlements were full of movement, guards running and stabbing at the large vines that whipped at them.

  "It's the Rethkor," Analara gasped. "But it's attacking. Screaming!"

  "What is it saying?" Shalaron demanded.

  "I don't know! It's so loud I can't make any sense of it."

  As they watched, more guards were either swept from the walls or seized by the clinging tendrils and hurled to the ground. A loud shout rang out, and a man dashed up the stairs to the wall and buried his arms within the vines.

 

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