You Can't Go Home Again

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You Can't Go Home Again Page 3

by R. J. Davnall

on the far side, and the Gatemaker set off towards them. Rel stared daggers at his retreating back. The faint sensation of - what? A breeze, except that the wind was strong and blowing the wrong way - caught Dora's attention and she turned to see Taslin stepping out of a Gateway.

  Thunderous anger marked the Gift-Giver's face, but it was the slender, graceful woman behind her who really made Dora's heart sink. Tawny's perfect hair framed a face on which scowls were not often seen, but wrinkles of tension etched dark lines around her eyes and into her rounded cheeks . She had one fist clenched around the rope of her belt despite the fact it threw her stride off into a lurch as she crossed the Gateway's threshold.

  Initiative fled as Dora choked on her first word. Tawny said, "There'd better be a good reason for all this faff, Dora." Her gaze raked over Rel. "There's clear grounds for censure for uncooperative behaviour."

  "That cuts both ways," Rel said, thickly. "We only had to go through all this faff" - his emphasis made the word a sneer that paled Tawny's face a satisfying shade - "because she wouldn't give us the grace of a moment's privacy."

  Dora forestalled her colleague's frown with a raised hand. "Rel had a Clearviewing which raised some questions about the Gift-Givers. Quite rightly, he wanted to consult me before bringing it up in front of Taslin." Rel tensed and again for a moment, Dora made out the flare of his aura as he opened his Clearsight. Wincing, he fixed his gaze on the Gift-Giver.

  Fighting back awareness of her Clearseer's grinding teeth and Taslin's animosity, Dora faced Tawny and related what Van Raighan had shown. A fraught pause followed when she tailed off.

  Taslin said, "The chasm you speak of could only be the Abyss that runs beneath Vessit. For your protection, human beings are prohibited from approaching it. If what you saw is somehow the future, then what you saw as abduction must be an arrest for censure."

  Rel took a step forward with a sharp shake of his head. Instead of speaking, though, he staggered and clapped a hand to his brow. A reeling sway somehow gave him back lost footing, but he'd be doing no more Clearseeing. If Taslin was complicit in a conspiracy, if she attacked, they'd have no warning at all; nor could even two Four Knots working together hope to restrain or subdue the Gift-Giver.

  A futile half-step back promised no release from the danger; Dora ruthlessly crushed her sign of weakness. Taslin's regard was twin violet crystal drills boring into her as Four Knot and Wilder clashed stares. She couldn't keep her voice steady as she said, "Then why the brutality?"

  "Better to ask why Children of the Wild think to bar humans from any part of the First Realm." Tawny's voice, rich and deep despite a faint quaver, was an unexpected well of support.

  "To the latter, there are dangers there that we don't understand well enough to let you risk." The edge in Taslin's voice was still there, but Dora began to wonder if it wasn't born as much from worry as anger. She was struck, suddenly, by how young the Gift-Giver looked; could it be other than illusion? Taslin's height was all long-limbed awkwardness, easily passed off at first as an alien mind struggling to fit into human form. But as Dora looked closer, the whole shape of the Wilder seemed more natural.

  And if Taslin was young, inexperienced at dealing with humans, this confrontation must be a disaster for her.

  Dora was given no chance to respond to her realisation. Rel bore in, his face contorted. "The point stands. If it happens in the First Realm, it's a human affair. Your people have no business meddling, in Vessit or here."

  "You don't understand!" As if the sharp gust of wind fanned a fire in her, Taslin reddened. "It's for your own protection. Everything we do in the First Realm is for your protection."

  "The boy has a point, Taslin." Tawny, stood beside the Wilder, clearly couldn't read the distress on her face the way Dora could. Reasonable as her tone was, Dora flinched; was Taslin human enough to feel patronised? Tawny finished, "Isn't it possible that whatever's in this Abyss is something that eludes Second Realm logic, but makes perfect sense to us?"

  "What if they've found something down there that could hurt them? A weapon we could use against them?" Rel was asking her, Dora realised. He was staring at her as if he expected something, but what, she had no idea.

  Trying to keep her voice calm, she said, "Paranoia will get us nowhere, Rel."

  "Really?" His anger struck her hard enough to force her backwards, stumbling. His eyes flashed red. The finger he stabbed at Taslin seemed for a second to shine with the caught glint of sunlight on sharp steel. "She hasn't given us a single damn straight answer. She hasn't told us what she wants with you. She hasn't answered for Rissad's treatment. She hasn’t explained anything. When will you stop trusting her?"

  His demand presaged a tirade of vicious insult. The insight, recalled from another thunderous row years earlier, blasted through the fog in Dora's brain like sunrise. The edge-of-perception spectre of her Clearseer's aura vanished, replaced by the clear understanding that the stresses of the last twenty-four hours had knotted all his fears and suspicions of the Second Realm into a hard stone of anger. There'd be nothing else from him until she broke that stone.

  Tawny gaped at him, her face a mixture of shock and disdain. Taslin wasn't much better, poleaxed and crosseyed as she tried to watch the finger still held only inches from her face. Rel opened his mouth to continue his tirade, but Dora stuck up her hand. "Enough, Rel. Taslin?" The Gift-Giver turned to her, blinking. "Let's put aside that other stuff for a moment. Why are you here? What happened to me yesterday?" Expecting her voice to waver, Dora felt a swell of pride as it stayed steady. She straightened up, feeling eight feet tall despite her eyeline only reaching to Taslin's lips.

  "You don't know?" Taslin's frown and the thin squeak in her voice confirmed Dora's impression; the Gift-Giver was out of her depth.

  "My memory's hazy." Not as much as it had been, Dora realised. The whirling jumble of images had settled. Picking through her journey into the Second Realm was a fool's errand for understanding, but at least the flashes had a fixed order now.

  "You were offered a great honour," Tawny gave her a gentle smile, but the other Four Knot's eyes flickered warily at Rel. "A second Gift".

  "What?" Rel's voice was a hoarse shout. "That's impossible! Nobody-"

  "Shut up, Rel." Dora snapped, pleased when he subsided instantly. "Taslin. Explain."

  The Gift-Giver shrank back. Dora held her face steady by main strength, resisting a creeping smile. All the force gone out of her, the Gift-Giver said, "You accepted."

  "But why?" Dora's question provoked another flinch. Satisfying as it was to cow such a powerful Wilder, Dora realised she wasn't helping. She turned to Tawny. "You were there."

  "They said it was the next stage of their plan for cooperation between the Realms. And that it should grant you new powers over the Second Realm and Wildren." Tawny ran a hand through her wind-ruffled hair, frowning again at Rel.

  Dora tried sarcasm to restore her composure. "I haven't exactly noticed any benefits." She cringed as she finished, bitterness failing her. She'd noticed new weaknesses, there was no doubt about that.

  Taslin, not meeting anyone's eyes, spoke. "The procedure was interrupted. You were summoned away before we could stabilise the Gift inside you." Dora felt the drain of the other woman's desperation. The Gift-Giver wasn't just out of her depth, she was terrified. Torn by the greater worry, that her second Gift might have damaged her, Dora focussed on Taslin's face. Had she been able to read Wildren expressions before today?

  Nobody seemed willing to embrace the waiting question. Silence dragged painfully through rattled nerves. Rel had gone white, jaw clenched. Taslin stared at her feet. The two Four Knots exchanged a frightened glance. Cold wind ripped into the sweat trickling down Dora's back as she replayed the morning in her mind, trying to measure the Gift's effects.

  It was too much to bear. Breath caught in her dried throat, and her eyes welled. Anger that might have restored her composure eluded her. Bereft of her duties as Four Knot, discipline failed. Som
ehow, Tawny sensed the moment that Dora broke, and gathered her into a mother's hug that could do no more than hide tears.

  Dora shook, sobbing into the older woman's shoulder and ignoring her murmured encouragements. Rel and Taslin remained silent, and Dora felt a stab of bitterness that neither offered help.

  Finally, Tawny asked, "What do you want to do?"

  Not go home. Anything but that, if Notia was Four Knot now. The thought was unworthy, but Dora knew she'd never rest easy under the care of another Four Knot. Never mind having to deal with Sherriff Pollack without the benefit of her old authority.

  Rel's Viewings offered escape. Whatever was going on with the Van Raighans, or the Gift-Givers, someone needed to look into it. Clinging to purpose almost as hard as to Tawny, Dora pulled herself back together.

  Her voice barely even shook as she straightened and said, "Rel, I was part of your Clearviewing, right?"

  The Clearseer wasn't in much better shape than she was. His face was pale, and his voice came as a halting mumble. "Yeah. I saw you going towards the ruined city, anyway."

  "Then that's what we'll do." Her voice wasn't that unsteady, really. Certainly not enough to justify the dubious look Tawny gave her. Dora frowned back, then turned to Taslin. "You know where we need to go. Lead on."

  ***

  About the author

  R. J. Davnall has been telling stories all his life, and thus probably shouldn’t be trusted to write his own bio. He holds a PhD in philosophy and teaches at Liverpool University, while living what his mother insists on calling a 'Bohemian lifestyle'. When not writing, he can usually be found playing piano, guitar or World of Warcraft.

  R. J. Davnall on Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/eatthepen

  On Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RJDavnall

  Blog: https://itsthefuture.blogspot.com/

 


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