The Dream Sifter (The Depths of Memory Book 1)

by Bundy, Candice

  "Thanks, I just had it refurnished about a month ago, when I first heard we'd be getting a new adoptee to help out here. The staff sleeps two to a room, but we owners get the spacious, private rooms," Jesse confided. "There are a lot of things we need to go over, but tonight you rest. Is there anything you need before tomorrow?"

  "If there is, I can't think of it. Thanks so much, Jesse. You've been so nice to me, all the Durmah have, and I truly appreciate it."

  Jesse gave Rai a soft look, her gaze filled with compassion. She held her left hand up next to Rai's. Rai was confused for a moment, but then understood. Jesse had a bright blue tattoo on her hand, with three moons and no stars. Matching Rai's. "You're not an outcast here, Rai."

  Rai was speechless. No wonder Jesse had accepted Rai so quickly. They shared a common loss; neither could bear children. The pain Rai felt about being barren had only been with her a week, since she'd awoken; she could only imagine what Jesse had been through. Rai realized Jesse had walked a much harder path than she, having stayed with her birth Sept even after being declared infertile. What had it been like for Jesse, eldest daughter to the Chieftess, to know she'd never inherit her mother's role?

  "You get some sleep, and I'll see you in the morning. If you need anything you know where I am." Rai nodded, and then Jesse shut the door. Rai locked the door.

  Rai looked around the room, feeling overcome by a sense of deep satisfaction. Whatever the future had in store for her, at least for this moment, she was home.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Matriarch Bauleel swept out of the hospice wing, grateful for her veils, which hid the stream of tears, which were drying against her cheeks. She'd spent all night reviewing the cases of those harmed by the poisoned luna berries. Bau had witnessed their infirmaries, held their hands, bolstered their will through kind words, and--most importantly--let each of them know she cared enough to listen for as long as they'd wanted to pour their hearts out to her.

  Grateful her enhanced constitution allowed her to skip sleeping Bauleel headed towards her office chambers, ignoring the women rushing out of her way and bowing in deference along the busy corridor. The Healer's and Medicinal wings were the two areas of the Temple, which were hectic no matter the early hour. Despite her dour mood and the curious glances shot in her direction, Bauleel entertained no discussion, knowing Camille, no doubt, awaited her presence with an impending stack of paperwork.

  Duty alone kept her overseeing the health and welfare of Raven's Call. Bitterness had long ago swallowed her joy for any aspect of the work she completed at the Temple. Bauleel ached to move on, but there was too much at stake. The Anemoi would replace her and she didn't know if the evidence of her ploy to hide the girl had been fully eradicated. Not yet.

  Only one thing of late elevated Temple life beyond the day to day monotony: Terem Zebio. His existence gave her one bright ray of hope amidst the daily tedium of signing off on marriage dowries, allocations of workable land amongst the differing farming Septs, and settling disputes, often over verbal agreements made months earlier where neither side quite had the facts down right. Drudgery, the lot of it.

  As she passed a side corridor in the Service section Bauleel overheard a muffled sob from down the hall, which gave her pause. Changing course on a whim, she sauntered down the carpeted corridor on nimble feet. There were few Healers in the Service section at this hour, which made sense. Only those overseeing an encounter would be present.

  Again, cries erupted from behind a closed door up ahead, but this time Bauleel pinpointed the exact one. A moment later she stood outside, hand hovering over the doorlock as she listened.

  "I'm sorry, Elder. If I'd acted more quickly this never would have happened."

  "Perhaps you failed to get the dosage correct. Have you checked your records?"

  Bauleel recognized Natre's clipped tones and activated the doorlock, striding in without hesitation and closing the door behind her. Facing the other Anemoi, she forced her emotions under tight control, a feat she'd congratulate herself for later, considering the circumstances.

  Natre, in her brown Elder robes faced off against Journeywoman Iella--Natre's raw anger buffeting against the wisp of Iella's raw nerves in the room filled with shadows. A naked female, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years of age, lay on the bed, unconscious and covered with bruises and a few lacerations. Bauleel noted her labored breathing -- as long as she made it back into a crèche reasonably soon the damage shouldn't be permanent. A man, also unconscious, lay sprawled out upon the floor next to the bed, also naked. Blood laced his fingers, mouth, and spattered down his chest. None of it appeared to be his own.

  No wonder Iella wept. She'd never be able to wipe this day from her mind's eye. Bauleel would speak to Camille later about transferring Iella to the Orchards, Medicinal Vaults, or well, any other station in the Temple the girl wanted.

  "I spent the night in the hospice wing and happened to hear you two in heated discussion as I was on my way to my office. Perhaps I can help sort things out." By her tone, Bauleel made it clear the 'perhaps' was a pleasantry.

  "We about had things sorted out here, Matriarch," Natre spat the words out. "There's nothing of import for you to contribute."

  Iella's eyes grew wide as saucers. The pale orange tones of her robes appeared brown in the dark, the effect giving her a waifish, Sept-less quality. Bauleel noticed with no small amount of joy the Journeywoman had ceased weeping, distracted no doubt by their open conflict.

  "Journeywoman Iella, your records, please," Bauleel held out her hand for the woman's terminal, which she handed over without question. The records for the encounter in question were already on display on the handheld unit, which Bauleel used to scan and confirm the identities of the unconscious individuals out of habit. "Tell me, in your own words, Iella, what transpired here last night. I'll confirm with system records as you go."

  Iella took a deep breath, which rattled as it passed through her. "The girl, Riuth of Sept Taz, is seventeen. She's been in Service with us since she turned fifteen, per standard protocols. She bore her first child at sixteen, no complications, and this was our first attempt at an encounter to breed her for another. She's been in the crèche, stable and in stasis until we flooded her system with fertility drugs about a week ago. Tests confirmed she responded positively to those treatments."

  "All via crèche?" Bauleel asked. This would isolate the girl from the plague as much as possible.

  "Yes. I brought her here and gave her the standard dosing schedule of relaxant within two hours of the encounter, per protocols."

  "Nothing incorrect so far. What about with the man?"

  "He's Phen of Sept Gileen. He's performed Service three times before without incident. He arrived yesterday, per summons. His attitude, as noted in the report, was receptive. His unfortunate selection today due to a complete lack of genetic crossover with Sept Taz's lineage. Once he arrived, I placed him in a crèche to flush his system of all medicinals for twelve hours. After this process completed I gave him his usual dose of relaxant, placed him in a waiting area for two hours, and then led him in here."

  "And..." Natre asked, pointing to their bodies.

  "And for many hours I observed the encounter passing quite ... normally, as such things go." Iella had the grace to blush. "Then they both slept for a while, which also appeared normal to me, but I allowed it, because sometimes such encounters get a second wind. Anyway, he talked in his sleep a bit, which I didn't have on file, but I didn't assume it meant a problem."

  "Per your training, any unusual behavior is to be treated as a threat and acted on immediately!" Natre's voice climbed an octave.

  "Sleep talking is a common human condition, Elder Natre. Not an assumed sign of illness. Please continue, Iella."

  Iella's eyes flitted back and forth between the two of them, but then she gave in and continued despite the tension in the room. "I continued my watch. After an hour or so of Phen muttering in his sleep, he awoke, moving slowly. I figu
red he was under the influence of the relaxant or simply tired. Whichever, his focus shifted to Riuth, and he climbed atop her."

  "To what, breed her again?" Bauleel asked.

  "No." Tears returned to Iella's eyes, and Bauleel had to fight to keep her empathic emotions in check, especially after her recent trip to the hospice ward. "He straddled her, and then he hit her, over and over. I grabbed my tranquilizer and ran into the room; he didn't even notice I was here. By the time I'd arrived and shot him, he'd bitten her on the face, chest, and arms. Do you think she'll scar?"

  "If she does, it'll be your fault, Iella," Natre replied.

  "Elder Natre. You will fetch two gurneys and prep the crèches needed to heal these two? I appreciate your help."

  Natre's anger rolled off her in waves, but she wouldn't defy the Matriarch in front of a Journeywoman. "I'll return right away. We've spent enough time discussing this sad event. The sooner these two are healed, the better." She stomped out of the room, almost scraping against the door as it slid open in her rush to leave.

  Bauleel doubted Iella could see anything through the haze of her redoubled tears, poor thing.

  "Did you shoot both of them with the tranquilizer when you returned to the room?"

  Iella wiped tears from her cheeks. "Yes, Matriarch. That's the protocol. I shot him twice, and her just the once."

  "Very good. There's a short acting amnesiac in the tranquilizer, so most likely, she won't remember a thing, and he won't remember very much. Hopefully he'll assume it was just a bad dream."

  "Good. I mean, not good, but it helps a little to know that."

  "Also, you need to know that what happened to Phen is not your fault. You followed all of the correct protocols." Bauleel keyed in the necessary changes via the med terminal. Phen days of service had come to an end.

  "But why? I don't understand what could have gone wrong?" The lost look in Iella's eyes, her upturned hands, nearly broke Bauleel. She'd heard the same question so many times over the past few hours.

  "The process we use, Iella, is very safe most of the time. However, sometimes a person develops a resistance to our treatments, and the protocols fail. It's not your fault. It's not their fault. It's biology. The biology of Az'Unda."

  She nods her head. "Do you mind if I go? I should file my report."

  Bauleel understood what she asked, on so many levels. "Go ahead, Iella. I'll make sure they get to the crèche's safely. You've had a long night. Go get some rest now."

  "Thank you, Matriarch." She bowed and left the room, but Bauleel caught the sounds of her sobbing echoing off the corridor halls as she fled.

  Looking down at Riuth and Phen. Bauleel cradled her face in her hands under her veil in frustration. Riuth's scar would be permanent, no matter how long she spent in the crèche.

  How much longer can we keep this up? How many more will be maimed in an effort to prove the colony is viable and maintaining sustainable growth?

  How could she fight the will of the Anemoi, and live?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Rai lay in her room the next morning, stretched out luxuriously in the soft, supple bed. After only one night, the various kinks and cramps in her legs and back from sleeping in the wagons were already gone. Rai walked over to the room's far window and observed considerable activity on the street. It must be at least mid-morning. Jesse must have let her sleep in. Her wardrobe on the opposite wall, and walked over to it and opened the door. Inside were three pairs of identical freshly pressed pants and shirts. She grabbed one of each and slipped them on. Rai debated wearing her well-earned dart gun, but hoped there'd be little use for it within the safety of the city.

  Rai left her room and crossed the hall to the bathroom. This bathroom was a veritable private grotto, and Rai felt honored Jesse was willing to share it with her. It held an immense bathtub that was at least ten feet in diameter. A wide assortment of plants adorned the walls, draped over the large sink, and partially covered the wall mirror behind them.

  Rai wondered what hardships and pain Jesse faced over her life. Rai knew the firstborn usually assumed the role of Sept Chieftess by birthright, but until last night, she'd never considered what might happen to a firstborn who'd suffered the shame of being unable to bear children. Rai wondered if Jesse's placement in this Waystation as caretaker had been anything more than an alternative to casting her out of the Sept altogether.

  Rai washed her face and brushed her hair, then headed downstairs. She walked out of the family and staff quarters through a doorway and entered the main upstairs hallway separating the two sections. She passed the hall leading to the guest rooms section, and walked down the main staircase. She looked around the main floor and spotted Jesse behind the bar.

  "Sleep well?"

  "Are you kidding? Babies don't sleep that well! Sorry I slept so late though."

  "No worries, Rai. Besides, I figured if I let you sleep late I wouldn't feel so bad saddling you with the night shift tonight."

  "By myself?" Anxiety gripped her stomach. "I've never worked in a Waystation before, at least not that I can remember ..."

  "Oh, it's no big deal. It involves receiving late-night visitors, showing folks to their rooms, and getting them a little food. It's nothing you can't handle."

  "I'll trust your instincts, Jesse. So am I the official night person around here?"

  "Nah. I'll switch the shifts around from time to time. I do want to expose you to each shift, though, to make your training go quicker."

  "Makes sense to me."

  "You hungry?"

  "I am, although I didn't think I'd ever be hungry again after that marvelous dinner last night."

  A glint of amusement flickered in Jesse's eyes. "Well, let's head over to that alcove table and see if we can't top it."

  Rai followed Jesse to one of the four alcove tables in the dining hall. "If I'm anywhere in the dining hall, this table is where you'll find me." Rai understood why. The table offered the most privacy in the entire hall, yet also afforded a good view of the kitchen, the bar area, and most of the dining area. They even had a clear view of the stable yard through the south window. Jesse motioned to a waiter who hurried off to the kitchen.

  "I imagine Stoi and Laan have already left?"

  "Yes, just before dawn."

  "Well, I hope their trip home is less stressful for them than the last one." The waiter arrived, placing of plate of steaming food and a fork in front of Rai and some wine mixed with melon juice for both of them, and was gone before she had a chance to thank him.

  "Oh, I'm confident Stoi will find some way to make it stressful," Jesse replied. "You on the other hand appear much less frazzled by the trip here. A cool head will do you a world of good around here during the busy times."

  Rai chuckled. "A cool head, eh? An empty head, anyway. That's what my amnesia feels like. I don't know what to make of anything. Something happens, somebody says something, and I don't know whether I should be happy about it, sad, stressed, angry--I just don't know." Rai fell silent for a moment, hoping that Jesse hadn't heard the desperation in her voice.

  "Well, I suspect you're handling it better than I would."

  Rai's lips formed a thin line. "Thanks. The only thing that keeps me going is that occasionally a part of a memory will appear out of nowhere. Every time it happens, I get another small clue, another tiny bit of insight about who I once was." She took a small, tentative bite of the food. The taste reminded her of the smell she'd detected from the fish wagon they'd encountered on their way into the city, and she guessed she was eating some kind of fish stew.

  "Do you keep a journal of these moments?" Jesse asked. Rai shook her head.

  "Well, it may not be a bad idea. Sort of a 'Who am I?' clue book, you know?"

  Rai laughed. It was a good idea. "I like that. Between you and Stoi, I'll have my memory back in no time! He's been supportive of me. Oh, that reminds me. I meant to ask him about that scar on his face. Now I'll have to wait until the next time they're i
n town."

  "You're probably better off. You don't ask Stoi about that scar unless you have a few hours to spare listening to him rant about the Temples."

  Rai stared in disbelief. "What does the Temple have to do with Stoi's scar?"

  "Everything. I'll tell you the story myself, if you promise never to say who told you."

  Rai remembered Laan's unwillingness to tell her the story, and she doubted Stoi wanted any outsider knowing what had happened. A twinge of guilt touched her, but she cast it aside--she wasn't an outsider after all. She was Durmah now, and knowing the family history was important.

  "I promise."

  "It happened some eight or nine years ago. Stoi was 21, I know that. He was preparing for a trip to the Baris Spine. The day before he was supposed to leave, he received a 'request' to serve at the Raven's Call Temple. Again. He'd been called for service two or three times already, so he wasn't too happy going in. Men have to serve a few days when they're called, but Stoi knew it meant missing the trip, which went beyond a minor inconvenience. You can just imagine the not so minor impact to his temper. But Temple service isn't exactly a voluntary thing. You serve without question or your Chieftess answers to the local Matriarch." Rai nodded. "Stoi had one of his cousins, Felmar I think, handle the trip while he reported to the Temple for service."

  "Now you might not remember with your amnesia, but men's service in the Temple is much different than women's. We women start our service the moment we become fertile--around fifteen to seventeen, and we stay for as long as we can bear children, up to seven or eight years in some cases. Some very fertile girls end up sequestered there for over a decade--I swear their Sept's must forget all about them! Unless you're barren, like the two of us, then you only have to serve a year at the most, maybe less. It's funny--infertility is viewed as this terrible thing, but it meant giving up less of my life to the Temple, so I don't see the problem!" Rai chuckled at Jesse's wry comment, but also she knew what Jesse's infertility had cost her. Was Jesse simply trying to find some meaning in their shared condition? Still, a decade was a very long time to be away from your Sept and friends.