The Dream Sifter (The Depths of Memory Book 1)

by Bundy, Candice

  Rai hesitated a moment. "I don't know."

  He stopped in mid-drink and laughed at the absurdity of her statement. "What do you mean, you don't know?"

  Rai just stared blankly at him, and his laughter melted away. "You're serious?"

  "Yes." Hearing herself say it to a stranger, she realized how crazy it sounded, and laughed.

  "So you just appeared here yesterday out of nowhere? Hello, I'm the new girl? Did you come in with a fishing boat?"

  "No, I'm a bit adverse to fish, so no boat for me. I have complete amnesia from my time before Temple service. The Temple staff was tight-lipped too, not revealing anything about my prior family since they'd given me up. Before that time, there's nothing."

  "Well, now I've heard everything. Does Jesse know about this?"

  "Yes. In fact, she's the one who suggested I ask you about it, because you travel so much. I don't suppose you've run across any other cases of mysterious amnesia?"

  "Sorry, you're the first. You see some memory loss in the elderly, but nothing like this." He must have seen the disappointment in her face because his expression softened and he leaned forward. "Tell you what. I know some people close to the Temple. I can make some inquiries and see what I come up with."

  "That's most kind of you. I'd appreciate it."

  "It's the least I can do. This must be very hard on you. I mean, not knowing who you are ... I just can't imagine."

  "Everyone I've met has been terrific about it. All I can do to repay them is to do the best job I can. Yet I feel like--I don't know, I'm failing everyone somehow." She paused, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ramble. I guess I haven't had much of a chance to talk to anyone about this."

  "No, please, rattle on! I can understand your worries about living up to others expectations. My family never lets up on me either. Besides, this is fascinating! Do you have any clues at all as to who you are?"

  "A few guesses here and there, but they're based more on supposition than anything else. I've found that sometimes I just know things. Not things based on a memory or a feeling--I simply know them. However I have no actual memories of my life."

  "Well, not to worry. I'll help you get to the bottom of this, any way I can." He reached forward and touched her hands. A surge of energy, attraction and raw sensuality passed between them. Shocked, Rai stood up, unable to believe that such a sensation arose from a simple touch.

  Rai's mind raced back to the day of her first meeting with the Matriarch. That day she'd smelled the soil and her mind was flooded with images of flowers, trees, grass, and everything the soil contained. She stared at her hands in disbelief. Was it more than just smell? Could she somehow sense the emotions of another simply by touching them? The thought chilled her to the bone.

  The man stood, shocked by her reaction to his touch, his expression turned sheepish with consternation. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

  "No no, it's not you," Rai replied softly, still trying to get a handle on the sensation.

  "Did I trigger a memory of some kind? A good one, I hope?"

  His eyes were full of concern for her, and in that moment Rai knew what she'd sensed when they touched was accurate. There was no mistaking it. How could that be possible? It was so much to absorb, Rai suddenly wanted the night over and done with.

  "No, it's not that either. Look, I've kept you up long enough. It'll be daylight soon. Let me clean up these dishes, and then I'll show you to your room." She picked up the dishes and walked to the kitchen.

  She returned to the dining hall a moment later, and retrieved a room key from the top drawer of the front desk. "This way." He followed her up the stairs to the best suite in the Waystation. The casual banter they'd enjoyed in the dining hall had been replaced with an air of uncertainty, and neither of them spoke while they walked. She unlocked the room and he entered.

  "Have a nice rest, and I'll see you around midday. With any luck Jesse will be back by then and the two of you can talk." Rai rubbed her hands, the intensity of his touch still electrifying her skin.

  "Very well. I appreciate your hospitality, Rai."

  For a moment, she considered telling him of the phenomenon that had passed between them, but then thought better of it. Rai wasn't ready to discuss this newest discovery with anyone.

  Rai left him there, trying to make sense of it all. She passed Hilse's room and the door opened. The steward stepped out--already dressed and ready for the day. Rai hoped she appeared less shaken by the events of the past few minutes than she felt.

  "Good morning, Mistress Rai. How was your first night?"

  "Just fine. No problems to speak of. That tinker fellow--the one Jesse and Stoi talked about the night I got here. He arrived early this morning. I put him up in suite one."

  "Ah, that would be the Tinker Somnu," Hilse replied, and Rai immediately recognized the name from her conversations with the Durmah. "Mistress Jesse will be so pleased!"

  "Indeed. Now if you don't mind I'm a bit tired, so I'll be retiring. I'll be back up and around by lunchtime, I'm sure."

  "Good rest, Mistress. Oh, and I can take that room key back to the desk if you'd like."

  Rai rolled her eyes. She'd forgotten to give Somnu his room key! "That's okay, Hilse, it's the Tinker's. I'll take it to him now."

  "Very well. Off I go!" She hustled away to her work. How anyone had that much energy, at any time of day--much less the predawn hours--was quite beyond Rai. She shook her head in wonder and made her way back to Somnu's room.

  She knocked on his door and waited. Had he already fallen asleep in the short time since she'd left? She heard footsteps just before the door opened.

  Somnu looked a bit puzzled at her return. He'd already taken off his boots and shirt. Standing there in only his leather pants, Rai's eyes took in his lanky body and strapping shoulders.

  His eyes lit up at her unexpected reappearance. "I don't remember asking for a wake-up call."

  Rai held out the room key. "I forgot to give you this. My apologies."

  He reached out to take the key from her. "My thanks." His hand brushed against hers and again his thoughts coursed through her body. This time the sensations held more intensity, and Rai closed her eyes, trying to regain some level of composure. She wobbled and he reached out and held onto her shoulders to keep her from falling. The additional contact only compounded her attraction to him.

  "Hey, steady there." At this range, his masculine scent surrounded her. Astounded, Rai discovered the scents he emanated registered as feelings. She smelled his anxiety, his desire, and his yearning for her. She didn't pull away this time, but let the experience flow through her, wash over her. It was intoxicating.

  She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "I'm not sure. You have a certain ... electricity about you."

  "Funny, I've been thinking the same thing about you." He lifted a hand to her cheek and stroked it, and Rai let the sensation draw her in, tingling across her skin. Soon her response moved further, manifesting itself as an intense desire fluttering in her belly.

  Catching her breath, a haze of tingling static and the smell of his sweat took shape within Rai's mind, and she found a profound empathic awareness inside herself. His emotions and hungers flowed through her, and she struggled to not let them consume her. The difficulty in winning the battle lay in progressively desiring to give in with each passing moment. Somehow, her awareness of his needs made admitting her own easier.

  He sensed something in this silent exchange, and he responded to her receptivity, sliding his hand from her cheek to the nape of her neck, cradling her head. He leaned into her, breath hot and quick, their eyes locked into a deep, penetrating gaze. Rai no longer distinguished his emotions from her own, and had little desire to try. His hunger urged her forward, pursuing the solace his touch offered. Their lips met, and Rai lost all sense of time and space. She transformed from a physical being into pure, raw desire, lost in the consciousness of her skin.

  He pulled her into th
e room, kicking the door closed behind them. The room key hit the floor with a soft clink. Then her world melted away. As if outside of body, she felt herself lifted from the floor, carried across the room, and then laid down gently upon the bed. Rai gave in to the man's embrace, allowing herself to drown in the sensations of his flesh and thoughts.

  Clothes peeled away, shedding layers of inhibitions along with them. Flesh upon flesh, lips, the graze of teeth, fingertips delving into hidden centers. Her entire body aflame, she writhed beneath him, then desperate in her need, rolled their bodies until she was on top, driving the action.

  Rai opened her eyes and confusion reigned when the eyes meeting her own, his blond hair, and the pallor of his skin jarred her consciousness. Her heart sank, instinctively knowing there had been another, now buried deep in her memories, deep in her past life before the Durmah. She closed her eyes, trying to regain the image of her lost lover, but the moment had been fleeting at best.

  "Is everything all right?" He stroked a light caress down her flank, back up her thigh, gently cradling her knee. There was no urgency in his voice, only concern.

  Rai leaned into him, pressing her breasts against his chest as she grasped his fingers in her hair. "I'm fine. I just needed a little breather, I suppose. Where were we?"

  "Here." He pulled her down into a mind-numbing kiss, claiming her mouth not just with his lips but his need to comfort her. She felt it seep through to her very core.

  It was the last conscious thought she would have that morning.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Bauleel read Graeber's latest message in the solitude of her personal quarters. Deciding to reply later, she placed the message terminal back in the hidden drawer in her desk. Few Az'Un owned such devices, as they were reserved for emergency communications use between the Temples and other uses at the discretion of the local Matriarchs--and the Anemoi.

  Bauleel rose from her desk and paced the length of the floor. This wasn't something she wanted to hear, considering her limited options. If Graeber was right and the Anemoi had them under surveillance, they must suspect some level of foul play on her part. If Graeber could keep the girl hidden until the heat of their scrutiny passed, not all was lost.

  However, if anyone in the Anemoi suspected, wouldn't both she and Graeber already be dead? Her friends within the Anemoi had been there for the staged execution, and not a one expressed any doubts concerning its veracity. Yet Graeber's stance of vigilant caution was reasonable. Better to assume the worst than to ignore the possibility, lest she end up attending her own execution.

  The clock on the opposite wall read just past midnight. Her body ached for sleep, but there was one more stop for the evening. She donned her signature veil and left her quarters. She locked the door behind her and set it to quiet mode, just in case she wasn't back by morning. Bauleel didn't want to torment Camille by not being in the proper place and schedule.

  Bauleel headed for the Technicians wing of the Temple. The long journey down the tunnel connected the main living quarters with the Technician's area via a hub of four service corridors. Bauleel approached the corridor sealed by a large, metal door, and removed one of her long, white gloves. She tucked the glove into her belt, and placed her right hand on a metal plate next to the door. A small light just below the plate blinked green as the lock mechanism actuated. A moment later, the door swung open. She instinctively looked down the corridors for activity of any kind, but at this hour, all was quiet. She quickly passed the security door, which swung shut once she'd walked through.

  She approached another locked door at the end of the corridor, identical to the previous one except for the lock plate which contained an imprinted hand shape with a small hole in the fingertip of the middle finger. Bauleel placed her right hand down onto it, and centered her finger over the depression in the metal. She held steady as a needle pierced her skin and collected a few drops of her blood. A short beep signaled the end of the collection process, allowing Bauleel to withdraw her hand. Sucking the fingertip, she waited impatiently for the door to open. Would she surprise Technicians by her late arrival? She was long overdue for a visit.

  Similar to the other Septs, the Technicians Sept consisted of birth members and adoptees. There was one key difference: the Technicians only adopted children with marked aptitudes in math and sciences. Trained from childhood those selected completed their schooling at the Temples. Rank and status in this Sept were determined wholly by accomplishment and contribution rather than by birth order. Technicians had the distinction of having a few male Chiefs in their history in an otherwise entirely matriarchal society.

  The birth Septs might not like the idea of giving up their most gifted children, but they had little choice in the matter. Their only comfort lay in knowing their child would work in one capacity or another toward the continual effort to find a cure for the plague. In return for their sacrifice, they received the thanks of the citizens of Az'Unda and the Temples got what they wanted: the smartest minds on the planet.

  This door protected the Technicians from outside influences and distractions. This controlled information leaks and maintained their focus on their ever-present goal. Two communities of Technicians existed, one at Raven's Call and the other at Resounding Cliffs. Both groups boasted no more than three to four dozen members. The Temple complex raised their children so they wouldn't disrupt the research process by their presence. The girls attended advanced Temple schooling until their time of service, and then joined the main group after that time. The boys transitioned over in their mid-teens once completing Temple schooling. Once they'd joined in the plague research teams, they left the facility only for rare field research assignments. The Technician's Guild required a lifetime commitment.

  The door before Bauleel slid open and revealed the main arboretum of the research facility. The ceiling rose in a wide arc, dotted with a variety of plants cascading from suspended lighting fixtures. The room was active given the late hour. Groups of Technicians appeared involved in serious discussions, some in heated debate, and still others ate a late dinner at one of the sitting areas. By the moons, these people work more hours than I do! What pleased her more was the level of intensity and dedication they displayed. Surely someday they'd discover a cure.

  Bauleel headed straight for the testing labs at the far end of the room. The conversations among the various techs grew hushed as she walked by each group. No matter how hard she'd tried to emphasize they not stop on her account, they always treated her with the deference of her status.

  She reached the laboratory facilities and entered a room filled with tables full of beakers and assorted glassware. Computer terminals adorned the countertop running along all four walls of the room, most of them running test models. A handful of techs stood in the room; some pored over the monitors, but most ran tests at the tables. Bauleel walked to the left wall and viewed the displayed varieties of charts.

  The Techs worked to counteract the effects of new mutations by minimizing their spread and adjusting current plague treatments to include new variants. Although they'd made no great headway on possible cures, according to the charts at least they'd contained the new variants quickly.

  After a little searching, she found the section labeled 'New Plague Variants'. It contained only a single chart. Surprisingly the plague virus had thrown but a single new curve at them in the last few weeks. In the past when Bauleel came by this section, she'd discover a wall covered with a multitude of charts, notes, and memos--a living monument to the virulence of the dreaded disease.

  Bauleel plucked the chart from the wall, aware of Journeyman Rilte's approach. He was a tall, dark-haired man with a pleasant, helpful demeanor she appreciated. He had a unique ability to explain complex technical concepts for the layman to make them feel insightful, rather than ignorant, for having asked the question. Rilte was one of the few from the Technician Sept who grasped that non-techs might still be moderately intelligent.

  "It's good to see you agai
n, Matriarch Bauleel. May I be of any assistance?" Bauleel smiled from under her sheer, white veil, despite herself.

  "It's good to see you as well, Journeyman Rilte." He smiled in response, no doubt flattered someone of her status took the time to remember his name. "I've come to review the status of new viral mutations. I understand a new one presented about two weeks ago?"

  Rilte frowned. "Indeed, and we've been monitoring it ever since." He paused, as if debating his next words. "We haven't finished our preliminary reports yet, otherwise we would have sent those along to you. How did you hear of this case?"

  "From the Guardian who reported it to you. He'd noticed something odd with the victim's strain of the plague. You're always so good about doing a complete analysis before alerting me, but I had a free moment so I decided I'd come and have a look for myself."

  Rilte's cheerful demeanor shifted, losing his relaxed posture. "Let me just fill you in on what we've found so far. First, the subject is still alive."

  Bauleel raised an eyebrow. "That's unusual!"

  "Yes, isn't it? For some reason we have yet to determine, this one is holding on. He's in one of the holding cells in the containment area. Would you like to observe him?"

  "I'd love to."

  At the far end of the room, a secured entrance led to the containment area. Bauleel passed her hand over the plate next to the door, but didn't hear the lock release. Had they locked the door, or simply shut it? Surely it wasn't routinely left unlocked.

  Bauleel and Rilte stepped through the doorway into the containment area. Along each wall there was a row of four large floor to ceiling windows. An observer looked into each of the eight small holding cells. Access to these cells was through service corridors behind each cellblock, also secured through separate doorlocks. All but one of the cells was dark. Bauleel slowly approached the lighted cell, not sure of what she'd find inside.

  Bauleel stood in front of the cell in amazement. "This is Terem Zebio? The one with the mutation?" Bauleel lifted her veil and folded it back, exposing her face so she could get a better look at Terem. If her unusual behavior shocked Rilte, he hid it well, neither reacting nor commenting.