Somnu peered back and forth at the three Durmah's, looking for the answer in their expressions. "I'm sure the lucky girl will accept your offer soon. She'd be a fool to refuse an opportunity to join lineage with the Durmah Sept."
"Yes, yes, I'm sure you're right," Meik replied. "And I'm sure the lucky gal will, once our Ponar sends her an offer." Laan laughed quietly behind his tankard.
"Now wait a minute," Ponar said, his voice rising in tone and force. "Enough of your jibes! I told Kait I'd have a final decision once we return home from this trip, and I'll keep my word to her. Until then, no more grief from you!" All three met his gaze with surprised looks, unused to the hot temper from the usually mild-mannered Ponar they all knew so well.
Somnu's teeth glinted in response as he smiled, but his eyes lacked any sense of warmth. "Ah well, that's quite sensible, dear boy. Far be it for me to question a pact between Chieftess Durmah and her firstborn son. If she is pleased with the arrangement, then so it stands. I can imagine the petals raining inside Sept Durmah already. Make sure I get an invitation to the wedding feast!" He raised his cup toward Ponar.
Ponar respected Somnu leaving family business well enough alone. He raised his tankard to Somnu's and clapped the two together. Meik and Laan joined theirs a moment later, wisely avoiding further commentary on the subject. All drank deeply of the Tinker's wine.
"What brings you this way?" Ponar asked the Tinker. "It seems like I just saw you at Jesse's Waystation last week."
Somnu pursed his lips together, as if he had a bitter taste in his mouth. "Durmah interests. You might say I'm on an errand for Chieftess Durmah herself."
"What?" asked Meik. "I don't remember hearing from Kait about any requests of you or the Tinker Sept." Ponar thought for a moment that Meik looked downright upset and offended by the possibility of not being within Kait's confidence.
"No worries, my dear friend," Somnu replied. "I'm referring to your Chieftess' request, as relayed to me through Jesse. The request concerning your new adoptee, Rai." The mention of Rai's name sparked Ponar's curiosity.
The Durmahs nodded, confirming to Somnu their knowledge of Kait's request to the friends of Durmah to aid in finding clues about Rai's past. Aware the Guardians were nearby, even if they weren't present now, no one spoke the details of Kait's request aloud. Everyone knew that the Guardians were lapdogs to the Temples--thus anything they spoke in earshot might work its way back to a Matriarch's ears.
"We'll let our Chieftess know that you're generously helping us out, friend Tinker. Where does your road lead today? Raven's Call?" Laan asked.
"To Raven's Call? Yes, but just a short stop on my way to the Resounding Cliffs. Rai mentioned the fishing's quite good north of Jeweled Cove this time of year, so I thought I'd check it out," Somnu replied.
The Durmah shared confused glances at the mention of Jeweled Cove.
"What kind of fish do you think you'll catch up there?" Ponar asked. Ponar knew that Jeweled Cove was a dangerous place, the bay proper off limits to fishing. He worried what a past involving the Cove might mean for Rai.
"Hmm, see I'm not entirely sure. I figure I'll speak with the local deep-sea fishermen, and see what they think. I doubt I'll stay long, as I've been meaning to spend some time in Raven's Call too," Somnu replied.
"Have Rai and Jesse been doing fine otherwise?" Meik asked. "It's been a few months since I've spent time with Jesse. It'll be good to catch up with her again."
"Well, Jesse looks in good health, and--as always--has things at the Waystation in tip-top shape. From what Jesse's said, Rai is doing quite well with adapting to her new duties, although the girl's still confused at times. Anyway, you'll be there in another three days now, so you can all make your own conclusions." Somnu refilled his tankard, and offered more to the Durmah. Only Meik took him up on the offer.
"True enough," Laan replied. "You were there with them for the better part of a week, right?" Laan asked, and received a quick nod of agreement from Somnu. "Do you think the girls are getting along?"
"Oh, well enough. I wasn't worried about that so much as ... well, I suppose it wouldn't be proper for me to say." Somnu wore an uncharacteristically embarrassed look upon his face, and Ponar wondered if his wine had gotten the better of him.
"Now Somnu, you've always been a loyal friend of Durmah. If there's something concerning you, please know that you can share it without worrying about offending us," Laan said.
"I just don't want you thinking I disrespect the Durmah," Somnu said. "I wouldn't want to cause trouble for your esteemed family."
The three Durmah men shared guarded looks in the uneasy silence. The Tinker's words hung in the air, and a knot of anxiety formed in Ponar's gut. Somehow, he knew Somnu was referring to Rai. He took another drink, hoping she hadn't accidentally, or otherwise, attacked anyone else.
"Don't be ridiculous, dear friend," Meik replied. "We've known you long enough not to suspect you of troublemaking. If there's something troubling you about Jesse and Rai, you simply must share it with us. We will hear your words and decide for ourselves what to make of them."
"Truly Somnu," Laan said. "You're practically obligated to share your fears with us."
"All right, all right, I will give in to your pleas. Although I must emphasize this is against my better judgment! However, I do trust you can evaluate my words for yourselves, and act upon them as you deem appropriate." He paused, hesitating yet another moment.
"During my days at Jesse's Waystation I had a goodly amount of time to get to know your new adoptee, Rai," Somnu continued. Ponar took another drink of the wine, trying to mute out his growing anxiety over Rai--and what Somnu might expose about her. "She's a very capable girl and a fast learner. She gives her all to the task at hand, and I never saw her shirk her duties or do less than her fair share."
"So far, friend, I'm not hearing anything to be concerned about," Laan interjected.
"I'm endeavoring to give an even-handed account, Laan. Despite my concerns, the girl is great help to your niece, and I don't wish to discount that."
"Fair enough," Meik said, nodding overenthusiastically from the wine. "Continue!"
"What concerns me is her obsessive curiosity with her past," Somnu replied.
"Wouldn't you be curious yourself, if you were in her shoes?" Ponar spoke up, perhaps a touch too defensively. Yet he was glad Somnu hadn't spoken of Rai acting violently.
"Oh yes, I would," Somnu replied. "But this is different. I think her compulsion to regain her memories is affecting her ability, at times, to reason with a clear head. There are moments she's remembering things--or otherwise lost in some place in her mind--when it's impossible to get a simple response from her because she's so detached from the world around her. I'm concerned she's pushing herself so hard to remember her past that she's losing touch with the present-day world." Somnu paused, looking a bit lost himself.
"If you're so concerned with Rai's obsession about her amnesia, why are you helping hunt down information about it for us?" Laan asked.
"Two reasons," Somnu replied. "First, I hope if Rai is able to remember her past her unhealthy obsession can stop and then she can get on with her life. Second, with the unstable way she's been acting, I think Chieftess Durmah deserves to know about Rai's past--and if there's anything to worry about."
"What do you mean by 'unstable' and 'something to worry about'?" Ponar asked.
"There are times Rai acts--oddly. You can look into her eyes in those moments she's lost in the past, and it's as if she's not even there. Like some hollow, empty shell--I fear the girl may be losing her mind. It's terrifying. Don't just take my word for it, ask Jesse. She and I have discussed this, and I know she shares my fears."
Ponar couldn't picture any of what Somnu was describing. He'd only been around Rai for less than a day but during that time, she'd been levelheaded and sane. Yes, she'd attempted to strangle him, but her nightmares had been to blame, not her mental state. He didn't want to consider the possibili
ty that she might be unstable. He'd always thought of himself as good at reading people, and he couldn't bear to view her in this light.
"I can't bear to believe Rai is so far gone, but if Jesse sees it too, well ... that's something we all need to take into account," Laan replied. "And I understand why you wouldn't want to bring it up with us, but it's good you did."
"I agree wholeheartedly, Somnu," Meik said, the drink slurring his words slightly. "We'll have a chance to see for ourselves here, and it'll be good to have your concerns on our minds. After all, if the girl's obsession has made her unstable, Kait needs to know."
"Thanks for being so understanding," Somnu replied. "You know I'm only saying these things because I'm concerned about your Sept's welfare. The Durmah have helped me out in the past, and--what can I say--but I owe it to you to do the same." Meik and Laan nodded in agreement with Somnu's words, as Ponar took a long drink and emptied his tankard.
"Enough of this dour mood!" Meik declared. "Let's eat dinner."
"Yes, and while we eat I can atone for my heavy conversation with a lighthearted tale of mirth I recently picked up on a trip to Barrow's Grove," Somnu replied.
"That sounds wonderful!" Laan replied, smiling again.
Ponar hoped Meik and Laan wouldn't bring up Somnu's concerns during the rest of the trip. He'd heard enough tonight to sour his stomach. Ponar doubted that his uncles worried what this newest revelation mean for Rai. The best interests of Durmah always came first, and rightly so. However, he also knew Rai needed an advocate and friend about now, and he'd step into that role if she'd let him. If Somnu was correct ... if Rai was losing herself to her amnesiac obsessions, then she'd need a lot more than just his friendship. The threat of mental evaluation by the Temples caused his throat to constrict. Could she escape if they narrowed their focus on her wisps of memories?
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Bauleel waited while the security door to the Technician's Wing analyzed her blood sample. Journeyman Rilte had sent her a message earlier in the morning informing her Terem Zebio was having another of his rants, but she hadn't caught it until she'd checked her queue at lunchtime. Bauleel had asked for an alert the next time Terem had a fit, and had been surprised when she hadn't heard from Rilte sooner. It'd been almost two weeks since she'd last been to the labs, and she'd hoped beyond hope Terem was recovering due to the apparent lack of ranting episodes. Sadly now that appeared not to be the case, yet Bauleel held out hope for some progress toward a cure. Soon the Elders would continue pressing for more details on the Technician's progress with this new variant. The Matriarch had to have satisfactory answers for them, or they'd continue pushing for off-world help.
The security door beeped and slid open. Bauleel stepped into the Technician facility's arboretum, and headed for the holding cells in the containment area where Terem was confined. Such was her determination that it took a dozen or so steps for the sight and stench of the room to sink in, bringing her feet to a standstill. Not caring about the consequences, Bauleel pulled off her veil in disbelief of the somewhat hazy view from behind it. She took in the ruined arboretum as she gagged on the rank smell of freshly spilt blood. The Technician's Guild was a veritable slaughterhouse.
Blood covered everything; dripping from a leaf here, a stream of droplets sprayed over an overturned couch there. Almost artful arcs of crimson wound their way across the floor, around chair legs and scattered dishes, up walls and over pictures ... even crisscrossing the ceiling overhead. In her dismay, Bauleel lost hold of her veil. The sheer fabric poured into a pile on the ground--the brilliant white fabric shimmering red as it sucked up the viscous blood underneath her feet. Growing fingers of crimson tainted the hem of her long robes, and Bauleel gathered her skirts in her hands, picking them up off the blood-soaked ground. It was too late; the damage was done.
Bauleel walked deeper into the facility and yet spied no bodies. There was plenty of blood everywhere, how hard could it be to find its source? Yet there were no bloody footprints or blood trails from moved bodies to lead her search to the dead. It was almost as if the bodies had disappeared. This disturbed her more than the deaths of numerous Technicians. It hinted at a method of death Bauleel couldn't yet begin to understand.
For the first time in her long memory, Bauleel felt fear. This wasn't mere concern over how the Elders would react when they discovered her promises of a cure had once again fallen apart. Nor her nagging fear that the Anemoi would discover her treachery and she'd have to face their certain deadly wrath.
This was an immediate visceral fear for her life. Bauleel was aware that whatever had caused this bloodbath was still nearby--and likely looking for more victims.
She knew the smart thing to do would be to leave and call in the Guardian Sept to clean up this mess. Bauleel hesitated, scanning the pools of blood staining the arboretum. Was it callous to leave without first searching for survivors? She shrugged off this guilt and turned back toward the security door leading to the main Temple complex. She needed to alert others to this atrocity rather than remain and put herself in further jeopardy.
Halfway to the door Bauleel paused as the muted sound of someone crying reached her ears. Leaving a place empty of apparent survivors was a completely different matter than abandoning someone to an obviously gory fate. Compassion overcame her fears and Bauleel ran toward the laboratory doors--the direction the sound originated.
Opening the doors to the laboratory, Bauleel found it surprisingly bloodless, and yet completely ruined: computer displays were smashed, upended stools and tables punctuated the landscape, broken beakers and test tubes covered the counters and floor, chemicals oozed from a toppled supply cabinet, and torn papers laid haphazardly throughout the room. It reminded her of a toddler's temper tantrum--magnified about a thousand fold. Bauleel choked and coughed as the smell of the spilt chemicals permeated the room. She found no bodies here either, and the few upended tables and benches afforded little hiding space. Where was everyone?
The only sign of life was the occasional far-away sound of punctuated sobs, coming from the direction of the containment area. The echoing cries sounded like a lost, wounded animal, beyond all hope. Bauleel walked to the containment area's door, all the while scanning the room for any signs of survivors or corpses--and found none. The doorlocks display indicated someone had locked it from the inside. Another wretched sob broke from the lone survivor of this massacre, and at this proximity, it was clear the person was indeed behind the door.
"It's going to be ok," Bauleel said. "Whatever happened here is over now. I'm going to open this door, and then we can leave. Together." Sure, she had no proof the cause of the carnage was gone. Bauleel just wanted to calm this person so they could leave quickly and quietly.
Sniffling sounds met her ears. "You can do that? You can open the door?" asked Terem Zebio.
Bauleel wondered how he was out of his containment cell. It sounded like he was just on the other side of the door. Perhaps someone attempted to evacuate him earlier. She could understand the Techs sacrificing themselves trying to protect Terem. His innate ability to withstand the plague was priceless. She herself had ordered his protection.
"Yes Terem, this is Matriarch Bauleel. I can open any door we need. Hold on just a moment while I get this one unlocked."
Bauleel keyed the doorlock, overriding the security hold on the door by simply displaying her palm print and waiting for verification. There was no door in the entire Temple complex that wouldn't open at her command. Moments later the door slid open, revealing a tearstained and miserable Terem. He was the only one she saw in the containment area. Again, there were no bodies. Bauleel swear he'd been trying to tear his hair out; it was mussed and sticking out all over.
Seeing Bauleel, a glow of hope alit Terem's face. "Without your veil I know for sure that it's really you. You're so beautiful, Matriarch." Terem's voice wavered so Bauleel was afraid he might burst into sobs. What could he have seen to make him so afraid? Bauleel decided she didn't
want to wait around and find out!
"Yes, Terem, it truly is me," Bauleel assured him, hoping to keep their conversation as quiet as possible. "But we should go now. Are you ready to leave this place?"
"Oh yes. That's all I've wanted to do since all this started."
Bauleel held out her still gloved hand, which he grasped tightly. "Now let's stay quiet while we move to the exit, ok?" Bauleel pulled him out of containment area and walked quickly through the laboratory.
"Can I go home now, Matriarch?" The strain of today's terror was obviously wearing at him.
Bauleel tensed as they walked hand in hand. She hadn't planned this out. There was no way he could go back home. In fact, until the Technicians' area had been decontaminated there wasn't an easy place to keep him considering his infection. The only option Bauleel had was to place him in a coldsleep stasis crèche for a time until the containment area was functional again.
They passed through the arboretum, and the reek of blood filled her nose again. At least whatever caused this destruction hadn't yet returned.
"I think we'd best stop by the Healer's Ward first," Bauleel said, unwilling to disappoint the boy. "They can make sure nothing hurt you during this fiasco."
Terem's hand abruptly pulled out of hers. She turned back, wondering what was wrong. "Terem, we need to leave now."
"But I want to go home. Now," Terem replied. There was a dark, depressed look in his eyes.
"Like I said, we can worry about that later. Right now we just need to get out of here."
"But you said! You said if I lived long enough I could go home!" Terem kicked his bare foot against a blood-covered fern and knocked it out of its pot.
"That's right Terem, I did." Bauleel hoped to set an example by keeping her voice calm and soft. "But right now all I can worry about is getting us safely out of here. Does that make sense?"
Terem's anger flared, and his face reddened with the heat of his anger. He clenched and unclenched his fists angrily as he kicked the poor displaced fern to bits.
The Dream Sifter (The Depths of Memory Book 1) Page 28