"You gave your word, my Lady, but you're just like all the others, aren't you? All of you lie and use people however you want! You're filthy and disgusting just like the rest of them."
Bauleel feared she was about to witness one of Terem's rages, without the protection of the containment cell.
"No Terem, I'm not. I meant what I said. It just hasn't been quite long enough is all. Please just stay calm, and let's deal with the crisis at hand."
Terem looked up at her, eyes blazing in fury. "How much longer, exactly, will be enough for you, Matriarch?" He slowly took a few steps toward her. Stopping at arm's reach, he glared down at her.
It suddenly occurred to Bauleel that she didn't remember Terem being quite this tall when she'd last been with him. If her memory served her, as it always did, he'd been a three to four inches shorter the last time they spoke. He had been barely taller than her height. She remembered the floor of the containment area--was lower than the surrounding hallway? No, it wasn't.
Bitterness etched across his face. He reached forward and gripped her shoulders with his hands. "See, O Revered One ... you don't even know for sure, do you?"
Bauleel held Terem's gaze, and realized that she'd made a horrible mistake. Terem wasn't himself anymore; all that remained was the plague. She knew what happened when the plague ran rampant, whether the host was alive or dead--it didn't matter. The plague transformed what had once been human or other creature, into a Terror--a bestial animal intent on one thing only: consuming and destroying life. Until this moment, Bauleel had never seen a Terror act so normal and sentient. She wasn't stupid enough to think the danger was any less just because the beast controlled itself so well.
With great horror and the realization struck: Bauleel hadn't told Camille where she was going. No one knew she was here, and neither did anyone know of the deaths in the Technicians' ward. She stood alone with no weapons and completely unprepared. She'd lived too long to be so idiotic.
In her panic, she fumbled a step back to break Terem's grip on her shoulders. He only gripped harder, his fingers boring into her flesh. Sensing her fear his expression turned to one of disgust.
"You were going to leave me here to rot, weren't you? Am I some sort of caged animal to you?" As he said this, he grew taller and thicker, his weight bearing down on her shoulders.
"I wouldn't have done that to you," Bauleel replied, almost forgetting that this thing couldn't properly reason. It just played out the prior memories of its host's body.
A searing flash of pain ripped through her shoulders when the Terror morphed, extending jagged claws through her skin and gripping tighter, scraping against the bones. Her left collarbone shattered under the pressure, and she almost vomited from the sensation. Her blood oozed out between his fingers, stark contrast against the brilliant white fabric of her robes.
The Terror brought his face down to hers. "How fascinating, my dear Matriarch. You think that you would have let me go--had I proven my health to the Technicians?"
Bauleel tried to maintain clarity and eye contact with him through the pain. She knew Terror's read emotions through contact with bodily fluids--but it was more impressive to witness than she'd imagined.
"Yes. I want life and freedom from the plague for all the Az'Un," she replied, trying to convince herself that her argument might matter to this monster.
The Terror growled deep within its throat. "I believe you. None of that matters now, does it? I'm going home. You're going to open the door and I'm going to leave this wretched place."
He released his grip on her right shoulder, which was undeniably just as painful going out as it had been going in, and then half walked--half-dragged Bauleel to the security door.
"Open it. You said you can open all the doors," it demanded.
Bauleel panicked yet again, wanting at all costs to avoid sending the Terror straight through the heart of the Temple complex. He'd kill dozens in the few moments before an alert reached the Guardians, and even more in the ensuing fight. She couldn't let him out this door, but she also knew if she lied, he'd know immediately.
"You won't make it out that way, Terem. The Guardians will hunt you down before you even see the sky. You need to use the other exit."
The Terror brought his face very close to hers, digging his clawed fingers around in her shoulder. Bauleel cried out once again with the pain of bone shards rubbing and tendons tearing.
"Again, you tell the truth. I don't want them coming after me. You think they can hurt me, don't you?" Bauleel nodded. Terem laughed at her, his emotions gargling through his thickened throat. "Where is this other exit?"
"It's ... on the far end ... of the cafeteria," Bauleel replied between agonized breaths. "A loading dock ... where supplies are delivered. No one tracks it, so you'd get out unnoticed. It's through the door on the left." Even through her pain, she wondered at his degree of focus, which was unusually intense for having lost himself to the disease. Too bad no one had survived to study him--surely they'd gain new insights from his actions today.
"You're being a very good girl."
The Terror loosened his grip, but never extracted his grating, sharp claws. He walked to the door she'd indicated, dragging her along after him. It was all Bauleel could manage to keep upright under the force of his pulling on her torn and bleeding shoulder. Bauleel considered the trail of blood she left upon the floor a blessing. At least when someone came looking they'd find some evidence she'd passed this way.
"You're different from the others, aren't you? Do they know you're different, your Eminence?"
Bauleel knew what he was hinting at, but not how he'd come to the conclusion. There were constituents in her blood he definitely wouldn't have picked up in any of the Technicians. "No, they don't know, Terem. I can't ever tell them."
This brought a deep, rumbling laughter from him. "Would they lock you in a cage for it too?"
"No Terem. They'd kill me instead."
He looked at her intently, studying her face. "So you already live in a cage." Insane as he was, he'd summarized her life concisely.
Before Bauleel knew it, they'd passed through the cafeteria and stood at the wide delivery dock doors.
"Open them. I know you can open them." He thrust her toward the doorlock unit.
"Even if you go home, Terem, they'll be afraid of you because they think you're dead. They'll call for the Guardians, and then you'll have to fight them." Although she'd stopped him from waging havoc in the Temple complex, Bauleel also wanted to keep him out of the city and away from the Zebio Sept.
The Terror made a half-roaring, half-screeching noise. Bauleel feared the worst, and closed her eyes against the impending onslaught of his rage.
"You may be right, Matriarch. Perhaps I can learn from you. Learn to hide right in front of everyone." She looked back at him and once again, he appeared as she'd first met him. A young teenage boy, except for the claw-like hand which remained embedded in her shoulder.
"Now open the door!" he screamed, his rage barely contained under the docile surface.
Bauleel raised her right hand to comply, pain from her pierced shoulder searing anew down her arm and across her chest. Her palm made a bloody print upon the doorlock, but that didn't keep it from scanning her. The doors beeped and slid open, revealing a bright sun in a slightly cloudy, mid-afternoon sky. This entrance opened out and away from the city proper, so the view was of cultivated plains crisscrossed by irrigation ditches. Per her expectations, this entrance was vacant. The Technicians only received supplies once a month, via the Guardian Sept, so very few knew of this entry.
For a brief moment, Bauleel tried to lose herself in the beauty of the view, trying to forget her present dire circumstances. The heated emotion in the Terror's face transformed as muscles relaxed, leaving his face calm within seconds. He extracted his claws roughly from her left shoulder and took a few steps outside, reveling in the fresh air and sunshine. Bauleel fell to her knees, aware that a fresh rivulet of blood poure
d down her chest. She wondered how much blood she'd lost, and how much more she could lose before she fell unconscious. Did she still have the strength to make her way back through the complex?
A shadow moved over Bauleel's face, and she looked up to see the Terror looking down upon her, its face unreadable. She'd assumed he'd leave once the door was open, yet he lingered.
"Thank you. Freedom is a good thing."
"I understand, Terem."
"I want you to be free too." A perverse, twisted smile widened across its face.
"That's all right, Terem. I'd prefer to stay here." He can't mean to take me with him, can he?
It nodded agreement, and came down onto its knees, so they were face to face. "I agree. It's best you stay here."
"Yes Terem," Bauleel replied, hoping he'd leave before she bled out onto the cafeteria floor.
The Terror reached out his hands and closed them ever so gently around her throat. It had such a kind, compassionate look in its eyes it took Bauleel a moment to realize his intention as the gentle grip turned into a vice. This Terem-looking Terror pushed her back onto the ground, its face still kind and calm as she suffocated.
Bauleel pulled away and tried to fight it off with her right arm. Her legs were bent underneath her, and thus useless in this fight, but she knew she was no match for the strength of this Terror--legs or no legs. This was no ordinary Terror, but one evolved over many weeks. One she'd forced the Technicians to protect and harbor. Pinpoints of color flashed before her eyes, and her vision became fuzzy, losing the crisp details of edges.
"Just another moment and you'll be free too. It's the least I can do," the Terror who had been Terem said.
Tears ran down Bauleel's cheeks, as she lay helpless under this monster. Her lungs would surely either explode or collapse. Even her ears were hot and about to burst. Had the doors shut again? The sunlight was gone.
In that last moment, everything became weightless.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Rai awoke to a soft but insistent knocking on her bedroom door. A sliver of light snuck through a gap in the thick drapes, bathing the room in its soft glow. From the angle it cast on the floor, Rai knew it must be mid-morning, much earlier than her usual rising time. Slightly annoyed at the early hour, Rai rose and pulled a robe on over her nightshift. Her hair and face were damp with sweat, so she presumed she'd had another nightmare--although she couldn't remember any details about it now.
"Just a moment," Rai called out. The knocking stopped at the sound of her voice.
Rai opened the door to an apologetic Hilse.
"Very sorry, Mistress Rai. I know it's early for you, but Mistress Jesse has requested your presence in the private family dining quarters."
"What's going on?" Rai asked, thinking that they hadn't eaten in that dining room since the last time Stoi and Laan had been in town.
"Meik, Laan and Ponar arrived this morning. There's to be a family meeting as soon as possible."
"Do you know what about?" Rai asked, attempting to stifle a yawn.
"I don't know, Mistress. I do know we're already packing the wagons. They're leaving again in the morning."
Rai knew that a quick turnaround wasn't unusual for the Durmah. Trade was more lucrative when you didn't take days off. Still, what would they need to discuss with her that Jesse wouldn't be able to tell her about later?
"Thanks, Hilse. Tell them I'll be right down."
"Yes Ma'am." Hilse hurried off down the hallway.
Rai closed the door and threw on some fresh clothes. Rai glanced in the mirror and ran a brush through her mop of hair, not that it did any good. The sweat from her nightmares had left it damp, and now small ringlets broke away and framed her face.
Rai hoped that Jesse would assume she'd gotten her hair wet--not that she was having nightmares all of the time. However, she guessed the dark circles under her eyes spoke for themselves. Sighing, Rai wished she didn't look upset, but wishing wouldn't change a thing.
Rai headed downstairs to the private family dining room. She paused at the closed door, trying to listen to the tone of the conversation, but heard nothing through the thick, heavy door. Rai knocked two short staccato raps.
"Come on in!" Jesse yelled.
Rai opened the door and saw Jesse, Meik, Laan, and Ponar sitting around the table. It didn't require Rai's enhanced senses to tell they'd been arguing--or at least in a heated debate. Meik was eating, fixedly staring at his plate. Laan looked up at her and shot her a brief, half-hearted smile between bites of his own breakfast. Jesse sat back in her chair, arms crossed, with a sour look on her face. Her eyes fixed a pointed glare on Meik, and Rai got the distinct impression Jesse was waiting for him to answer a question. Jesse held a crumpled letter in her hand. This was delivered to her by the Durmah Sept upon arrival this morning, and the focus of the argument.
Ponar's eyes met hers, and the genuine depth of concern surprised her. At least there was no lingering tension in the air there.
"Have a seat, Sis," Jesse said. The sinking feeling in Rai's gut said she was involved in some direct way.
Rai took a seat between Meik and Jesse, not wanting to sit on Jesse's other side because then she'd be sitting right next to Ponar. It was best not to appear chummy with him, especially in front of their uncles.
"Have a hard night?" Meik asked her, flashing a critical look. "It doesn't appear you slept too well." He watched her closely. Rai sensed he was curious about her mental state. Rai tensed, wondering what Meik was hinting at.
"I'm fine. It's just a bit early for me," Rai replied.
"You'll remember Rai covers night shifts at the Waystation, Meik," Jesse said. Rai didn't miss the territorial nature of Jesse's statement.
"I remember that, Jesse, and I'm happy it works out so well for both of you. I know Kait's very pleased Rai has settled in here, and that the two of you are already so close. Please try to remember, Rai's absence would only be temporary--at most just a couple of weeks until we get things sorted out."
"Wait--my absence? Where am I going?" Rai asked, confused both by lack of sleep and coming into the conversation mid-stream.
"You're coming with us," Laan explained. "Up to Barrow's Grove."
"Remember how you smelled something different on those bags of luna berries?" Ponar asked.
"Sure, but you said didn't mean anything, and they were normal."
"Well, Ponar here's smart, but he's no Healer," Meik replied. "It appears there was something wrong with the berries."
Meik caught up with Rai and Jesse about his interactions at the Temple in Resounding Cliffs, and how they'd treated the luna berry shipment. He then filled them in on the odd health issues Chirey's birth brother had been afflicted with. "Kait wants us to check out our suppliers in the hopes we can identify the problem at the source. She won't have Durmah blamed for the bad berries."
"That makes sense, but how do you know that what I smelled on the berries was the corruption the Temples have pinpointed?" Rai asked.
"Well, we don't." Meik admitted with a frown. "However, if the Durmah have been transporting corrupted product, you can guarantee it won't go well for us with the Temples."
"But there's no guarantee Rai will even be able to help you out!" Jesse replied. "Whereas I can guarantee that her presence here will help the Durmah cause."
Rai couldn't blame Jesse for wanting to keep her at the Waystation. With the nightmares and the bizarre episode where she'd awoken underneath the bed, Jesse might also be wondering if Rai wasn't mentally up to a long trip through marshlands.
"I disagree, Jesse," replied Laan. "Even if Rai can't identify anything odd in the berries smell, the simple fact that four Durmah tried to research the problem will let the Temples know we're not the problem. Our top priority is that we won't be blamed for the contamination, right?"
Jesse shrugged. "I suppose you've got a point."
"So that's our plan? We travel up through the swamplands, talk with the luna berry farmers, I smell
some bags, and if anything smells bad to me we report it, and then return here?" Rai asked.
"Exactly," Meik replied, his placating smile confirming she'd understood. "You never know, a farmer might be able to identify a change in harvesting or fertilization procedure that might explain the bad batches. Either way, we can report what we find to the Temples immediately. That will keep them from placing blame on us, and possibly even improve our Sept's standing. However it works out, Durmah looks good."
"But you have no idea how long you'll be gone, do you?" Jesse asked, arms still crossed even though her expression had softened somewhat. "Ponar sometimes spends weeks in the swamplands!"
"Well, that all depends on travel conditions, Jess," Ponar replied. "We'll only visit a few of the farms, and we're headed into winter--so the roads won't be too soft that far north. I doubt we'd keep Rai from the Waystation for more than three or four weeks."
"When do we leave?" Rai asked, still trying to wrap her head around this sudden shift in her life.
"Within the hour. Perhaps two? The travel papers have already been filed," Meik replied.
"Wow, that's short notice." Rai's head spun at this turn of events.
"It is, but Kait wanted us to investigate our suppliers as soon as possible," Laan replied.
"And what my mother wants, she gets," Jesse replied. She rose and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Jesse's reaction left everyone in varying states of surprise.
"Let me go talk to her, try and calm her down," Ponar said.
"If you think it will help," Meik replied. "I'm not sure why she's so upset. This is just the best for Durmah, after all."
"She's upset Kait didn't give her a choice in the matter, and I can't blame her for that." Ponar headed out the door.
"I'd better go too." Rai rose to leave.
"Good luck with calming her down. That girl's got quite the temper!" Meik shook his head.
Rai was glad to shut the door to the family dining room behind her and on Meik's callous attitude. Too bad she'd now have weeks of conversations with him.
The Dream Sifter (The Depths of Memory Book 1) Page 29