"Well, what did you expect? It's not as if people see Guardians coming around for social calls. You should have hidden in my solarium and let her finish working."
"Oh, I'm not the one running around hiding behind a disguise today, my Esteemed Matriarch. Or perhaps I've mistaken you for one of your Elders?" Graeber pointed out, eyeing the brown robes Bauleel wore. Graeber tossed the gnawed red fruit core into the trash can across the room with a resounding plunk.
Bauleel had forgotten she wore Elder robes, all the better for spying on the girl as she met with the Durmah. That Graeber had witnessed her falsehood only served to increase her annoyance with him.
Graeber, infuriating as he was, had correctly pointed out her transgression. Regardless of the hour, it wasn't unusual for the Temple staff to seek out the Matriarch for guidance. She should change before anyone else arrived, in particular Camille. If Camille found out she wore Elder robes on occasion to avoid her incessant schedules, she'd never be able to move around without an escort again. With an exasperated sigh, Bauleel passed through her small and uncluttered private office, through the spacious bedroom in gossamer whites, and into her bedroom's large closet.
Graeber followed at a respectful distance, standing just outside the closet so they could continue talking. She removed the dark brown elder clothes and hung the items next to her traditional sets of white Matriarch's robes.
While removing her shoes she decided to try to shift the conversation back on topic. The cave floor was cool beneath her feet, as she stood clad only in her under shift. Bauleel looked over to Graeber, who now stood in the closet doorway.
"If your trip was as successful as you say, can I therefore assume that the package is hidden away?"
For the first time since his arrival, his tone took on a hard edge. "The package is safe. No one will find it." Perhaps out of habit, his body had become tense, mirroring his mood.
Bauleel emerged from the closet and Graber backed out of the doorway just enough to let her pass. "If you don't mind talking through the sound of water, I feel the need to bathe."
"Whatever you need to do."
"Where is the package?" Bauleel walked into the bathroom at the far end of the room. It was open with no doorway.
Matriarchs didn't entertain visitors in this section of their quarters. She kept no bathing pool, having no fondness for them, but instead had a walk-in shower, which functioned more like an indoor heated stream, which poured from a sluice overhead. Within seconds of activation from the wall panel, the flowing water had billowing steam clouds surrounding her.
"I should know, in case something happens to you."
"No, Bau. I alone must bear the burden of its care. I agreed to do so to its rightful keeper, and I won't pass that responsibility off to anyone else." Bauleel heard granite in Graeber's voice; he would not argue further. "Besides -- think about it. If anyone, even you whom I trust, knows of the location, there's the chance the rest of the Anemoi might find out. I can't allow that to happen."
The fierce look in his eyes made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She felt naked and exposed before his thinly veiled wrath at the other Anemoi. Bauleel realized she preferred Graeber's usual cynicism to this harsh intensity.
"But then if you die, what we've done, it can't be undone."
"I won't die."
Bauleel sighed. "So be it." She moved into the shower, hoping to diffuse the tension. Once inside she hung up her shift on one of the hooks along the wall. Graeber again remained just outside the stall, within comfortable speaking range. Bauleel stepped under the streaming hot water she tried to let go of the strain from the last few hours.
"How have things gone on your end?" Graeber's voice echoed off the shower walls, muffled by the water sluicing over her head.
Did he detect the self-doubt welling up within her? She did her best to quell the rising emotions. "As expected." Bauleel worked a generous quantity of refreshingly newcedar-scented soap to her hair. Would that she could clean her conscience so easily. "The girl woke up disoriented from her special medication..."
"So she remembers nothing?"
"Fortunately for us, no. With the drugs in her system, it would have been impossible for her to hide any residual memories. She's genuine and honest, if upset about the amnesia."
"Then the plan moves forward?"
Was that regret in his voice? The shower hadn't done a thing to ease her own worries, yet she turned off the water and began toweling dry.
"Yes. I finalized placement of the girl with the Durmah Sept today. Her induction feast is underway as we speak. According to the adoption petition the Durmah's presented, they need immediate assistance with a new Waystation they've opened in Kiya's Grace. Therefore, I expect they will want to move her to address this need."
"I wasn't aware the Durmah had built a Sept house in that town."
After slipping back into her under shift, Bauleel emerged from the steaming shower while toweling her waist-long auburn hair dry. Graeber stood outside, cleaning his nails with a short dagger while he awaited an answer. His eyes were hard and determined, but the earlier rigidity was gone. She stood close to him, unintimidated despite his size.
"Like I said, it's new. Besides, Kiya's Grace is off your normal patrols. The new Waystation is to be both a Sept house and a traveler's Waystation."
Her voice took on a more serious tone as her green eyes looked up into Graeber's. "Regardless, your task will be to follow the girl and watch her for any sign of subconscious memories surfacing. We must keep her hidden and inconspicuous. If she does regain her memories or skills, things could get ... messier than anticipated. We wouldn't want the Durmah's at risk. You'll have to kill her if things get out of control. Or, if possible, you can always bring her back here and put her in stasis for the short term while we come up with some other solution."
"Let's see, I watch her. When I determine the whole 'hidden and inconspicuous plan' isn't working, I bring her back here. If things deteriorate, I kill her. Is that about the right level of messy for you?" Bauleel's skin bristled from the harsh heat in his tone. He might as well have hit her, his violence was so near the surface, but she wasn't about to call him on his underlying rage.
"Yes. You need to keep a low profile too. You never know who in the Anemoi will be keeping an eye on you. We are named 'as the wind' for a reason." Bauleel retreated to her closet and donned her Matriarch robes.
"Why place the girl with the Durmah? Do you think they might be connected to the growing unrest in the populace?" Graeber asked.
"I'm loath to blame the Durmah. They've always supported our initiatives. They travel across the continent--exposed to more dissent within the settlements via their business associates due to their trade. It's hard not to wonder about their loyalty to the Temples. Placing the girl there, well, if we need to we can always extract her and learn what she knows of the family business and politics of their associates. It's not as if we're planning to leave her with them long-term, even if things are optimal. We can't leave her anywhere for too long."
"Don't you think using her for information gathering could draw too much attention? Make her too visible?"
"I think she's been gone long enough no one's looking anymore. Everyone assumes she's dead. Since we changed her appearance, it should be impossible to recognize her. You'll be the fail-safe, hidden away in the shadows and keeping an eye on things. Making sure no one comes looking. Like I said, if things don't go as planned and we need to come up with another solution, we can always put her back in stasis."
After a few moments, the Matriarch emerged clad head to toe in pure resplendent white, her face just barely visible through the white veil.
"I trust your judgment in this, Graeber. You will be close enough to know if she's becoming dangerous." The Matriarch's grave tone was clear: they couldn't afford any mistakes. If anyone discovered who this girl was before the amnesia, what she'd done and who she'd been, his or her lives would both be forfeit.
<
br /> Graeber nodded in understanding.
"If you need anything, it's obvious you know where to find me. Lock up when you leave."
Matriarch Bauleel left her chambers without another word.
*
Picking up his cape and bag from Bauleel's couch, Graeber worried if her nervousness would complicate their plans. He'd expected her to act with more composure in a matter of such importance, regardless of the stakes in play. Despite the tight control she'd tried to keep on her emotions, he'd noticed her exasperation throughout their discussion. It wasn't that Bauleel poorly cloaked her feelings; he simply excelled at reading the finest traces and clues.
Knowing Bauleel, Graeber predicted that she'd spend a great deal of time in the near future in meditation, no doubt hoping to clear her mind and catch any possible flaws in their plan. Once she came to terms with her choices, she'd need to re-solidify her inner shields to mute her thoughts and feelings from detection by other members of the Anemoi.
The possibility of outright failure crossed his mind daily. Perhaps the difference between them was in his acceptance of the likely utter destruction of their plans from the start. The fact that they'd been able to keep the girl hidden and their actions unnoticed from the other Anemoi for this long shocked him. He recalled an old saying among his Sept: 'If there's something to hide, there are a million things to fall through the cracks.'
Their plan was destined to fail. Therefore, he wasn't counting on Bauleel's plan in the slightest.
Locking the door on his way out, Graeber pulled the tracking device from one of his many hidden vest pockets. The coordinates of the package remained stable and none of his security measures within a five-mile radius showed any tampering either. He returned the scanner to his pocket. Bauleel was out of her element with her end of the plan--whereas this kind of thing was second nature for him. He expected at least some security measures to fail, and therefore used every monitoring device and trick he could think of to safeguard the package. Graeber believed in, and practiced, systems redundancy.
He checked his communications device for new transmissions and found none. Although it was possible that Raza hadn't read his last message, he thought it unlikely. Raza was his sister, but also the Guardian's Chieftess; and for both of these reasons he knew she must have been monitoring his feed. Graeber knew better than to take the absence of a response as tacit approval of his handling of the situation. Her loyalty to him meant she wouldn't betray him, but she didn't have to approve of his choices either. Raza had agreed with the Anemoi's mandates, and abiding by their verdicts would have been safer and kept them appeased. However, they had wanted everything--everyone--destroyed.
The problem was Bauleel had lied to the Anemoi, assuring them they'd eradicated the evidence. Only Bauleel, Graeber, and Raza knew the truth, and Bauleel had gambled they could hide it from the rest of the Anemoi. If they were to discover the truth, the removal of the evidence would be the least of their problems. Raza had done nothing to aid their defiance besides keeping quiet. Graeber hoped that knowledge, if discovered, wouldn't earn his sister a death sentence.
The shadow government of the Anemoi didn't abide dissent--much less traitors. There wouldn't be discussion or debate with the group at large. No, once the lies were uncovered he and Bauleel would be lucky if they saw death coming.
Striding out of the Temple complex, Graeber decided to pay a visit to the Guardian Sept house and check on Durmah travel permits. If the girl traveled to Kiya's Grace, then she'd need Guardian projection for the journey. Who better to give it to them?
He caught his reflection in wall mirror next to the front door, placed so the Matriarch could check her garments for correct placement before heading out the door. His lips were set in a grim line and his eyes reflected back a haunted, vacant expression.
Jarred by his own feelings so blatantly displayed, he paused. Surely, things were not this desperate. Bauleel's plan to control the girl had a chance of success.
The utter sorrow lingering in his eyes told another tale. Bauleel had kept the girl alive so far. Now he'd have to hide and protect her from the other Anemoi, and more importantly, herself.
CHAPTER FIVE
Matriarch Bauleel left her quarters in such a rush that she all but ran straight over Journeywoman Camille, keeper of the Matriarch's appointment book, historic accountant and personal assistant. From the tapping of her foot and belabored sigh at her emergence, Camille emphasized her prolonged waiting period. Camille was privy to a good portion of the Matriarch's dealings, and always got irritable when she felt she'd missed something.
"Good evening, Camille." The Journeywoman held a pile of documents awaiting the Matriarch's consideration. The loathed daily paperwork had taken a backseat today to the processing of the girl Rai, but Bauleel could avoid it no longer.
"I'm glad to see you're still up, Mother. Do we have time to review some outstanding items this evening, or do you have other commitments?" Camille tapped her pen on her trusty notepad.
"I've committed the remainder of my time tonight to returning to my offices and reviewing paperwork with you, Camille. Where else would I be going at this hour?" The Matriarch ignored Camille's obvious vexation. Bauleel expected Camille to record '11:15pm - Matriarch returns to office to complete paperwork' in her notepad. Although Camille could at times be high-strung and detail-oriented, Bauleel knew she couldn't hope to perform the duties of a Temple Matriarch without her. Above all else, a Matriarch had to have a complete schedule of what was coming, along with a record of what had been. Camille's seasoned skills provided both.
Bauleel walked around Camille and continued her march toward her formal reception chambers in the main section of the Temple. The Matriarch's personal quarters were toward the rear of the Temple complex, joined via a long, narrow hallway with the Temple's main sections. It wasn't the shortest walk, but Bauleel preferred the peace and quiet in this relatively empty section.
"I was concerned, Mother. I hadn't been able to find you these past few hours, and you missed an appointment with Priestess Parthe. She wished to discuss issues regarding the purity of medicinal components."
"Did you speak with her in my stead?"
"Yes. She dropped by and spoke with me about an hour after your allotted meeting time. Priestess Parthe said the issue is of broader scope than she at first realized. I rescheduled her for tomorrow morning." Although Camille talked openly in private with the Matriarch, she always refrained from doing so in front of others. This level of detail discussed in the public hallway alerted Bauleel that Camille considered Parthe's needs critical.
They continued down the lengthy hall and Bauleel heard the door to her private quarters open behind them. Cringing, Bauleel listened to the sounds of Graeber's steps fading away in the opposite direction. Who knew what Camille would make of it: an unannounced late-night meeting between the Matriarch and a Guardian in her private quarters?
"I...I'm sorry Matriarch, if I'd known you had a...scheduling conflict...I'd have avoided you this evening." Camille's widened eyes and pale face revealed her shock at the Guardian's emergence.
Reaching the corridor hub leading to the main Temple section behind the amphitheater, they turned the corner and lost sight of Graeber walking off in the other direction. Bauleel rolled her eyes behind her veil thinking she should have had Graeber wait a few minutes before leaving. Although Guardians posed no risk to the average, law-abiding citizen, their reputation kept most from even meeting their gaze, and the possible consequences of any additional scrutiny. Apparently seeing one when you weren't expecting it was enough to cause even the ever-controlled Camille to lose composure.
"A problem arose that required my immediate attention. Be assured, Camille, for the most part you know more about my schedule than even I do. My duties to the Temple and to our city always come first, even before meetings with Priestess Parthe."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mother. I didn't mean to question your priorities. I know you devote yourself to ou
r well-being foremost, and we are all indebted to you because of it. I trust everything is quite all right?"
"Don't worry. I'm quite sure the Guardian's issue will soon be resolved," Bauleel replied. Approaching the doors to her public offices, Bauleel paused. "Camille, could you fetch Apprentice Mala for me? I require a brief audience with her before she retires for the evening."
"Yes Mother, I'll go get her immediately." Camille replied in an even tone, having regained some semblance of composure. "I've placed some critical papers on your desk for review. Do you think you'll have time to address them tonight?"
"Yes, child, I'll do my best," Bauleel replied.
The Journeywoman set out in the direction of the Birthing quarters and the Matriarch swung open the thick, heavy wood door and entered, leaving the door open behind her. Passing through the front audience room, she opened a smaller door toward the back and entered her primary office space. Sighing at the sight of a stack of papers two full hands high, she pulled her chair up and got to work. The Matriarch wouldn't want to disappoint her aide, after all...
The top item read from Priestess Parthe concerning contaminated luna berries from the bogs northeast of Kiya's Grace. Bauleel remembered reading the initial reports questioning the purity of the milled berries a few moons ago, but Parthe now claimed to have definite chemical evidence of the contamination. The luna berries played a key ingredient of the medicinals, acting as an inhibitor of the growth of the plague virus itself. Any problem with the precious fruit was of great concern to Bauleel. Paging through the notes, the source of the contamination hadn't yet been determined. According to the tests, fifteen to twenty percent of the berry supplies contained the toxin. Parthe ended the report on a bright note, at least as bright as could be hoped The medicinal mixtures containing the contaminated berries had been isolated, as had the few unlucky people who had taken them. These poor souls had been afflicted with nerve damage, and research continued to cease or even reverse the damage. The nerve damage, she reported, was not only severe but also continued to advance as the affected nerve cells passed along disordered signals to healthy cells and increased the scope of the damage. One of the patients had already died-- mild arrhythmias had rapidly progressed to full-blown coronary arrest, and another was in critical condition.
The Dream Sifter (The Depths of Memory Book 1) Page 5