“Can he do damage via this cloud?”
“If inhaled the vapors can make you ill, but only in its densest form. If diffused, it is harmless. The most important thing to remember—The MasTer can see and hear and smell what is going on around the cloud, but he can only use one sense at a time. The vapor also enhances his ability to harvest information from the minds of his minions. He uses the information he gathers via the cloud to assure himself that the Mocendi and other underlings do his will.”
Jordett glanced out at the sky and back at the Almiralyn’s cousin. “Can you shape shift?”
Teva vanished and a Theran dove winged its way through the open door.
While Jordett awaited her return, he contemplated the building across the way. The Hall of Life contained all past records of The City. It also housed the Induction Center, the place where Idronattians had their memories expunged and their professions assigned. More than that, it was the Citizens’ Depository, the vaults that contained the childhood memories of every person in Idronatti. Only the Five Fathers and a couple of high level assistants knew about the vaults. Jordett had found out by accident. His eyes narrowed in thought.
Researchers had discovered early in memory distraction testing that if a person’s memories were destroyed, he would become demented. As long as the memories were kept intact, life followed a normal and productive course. He winced. Productive—the operative word. If we do manage to take back Idronatti… His jaw tensed. When we manage to do so, do we give back the memories, and if so, how? Torgin’s mother is the key.
He searched the sky. Where are you, Teva?
Almiralyn wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I know Karrew will recover. He has to.”
Sparrow stared silently into the fountain. Almiralyn gave their overlapping reflections a tenuous smile. “Thank you for letting me cry.”
“My mother told me a woman’s tears heal the soul. It is better to release them than to choke on the emotions. What now?”
The water swirled their faces into blurred colors, mixing fair and dark, blue and brown until a farm wagon emerged.
On the seat of the wagon, Esán scratched the floppy ears of a black and tan dog and grinned at Torgin, whose fingers skimmed the length of his flute as he played a silent tune. A soft moan from Desirol snapped their attention to where he lay. He stirred, opened his eyes, and stared up at the morning sky. His brow furrowed. Puzzlement registered; a touch of fear followed.
Torgin bent closer. “Desirol, you’re safe. We left the Mindeco behind.”
Esán climbed over the seat back and knelt beside him. “How do you feel?”
“Odd. Half here, half elsewhere. Caught in between.” He grabbed the side of the wagon and hoisted himself to sitting. A touch of color highlighted his cheek bones. His gaze gravitated to his feet. His hand rubbed the softness of the drango tunic. “What the— Where are my boots? My jacket?”
“Ira exchanged his tunic for your jacket and Torgin traded boots. We wanted you safe.”
Torgin slid the flute into its sheepskin case. “We didn’t want the Mindeco to find any of us, including you.”
Desirol covered his face with his hands. When he lowered them, his expression was sad. “Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”
Esán laid a hand on his knee. A tickling sensation made him pull it away. “You said you feel caught in between. What does that mean?”
Worry clouded Desirol’s expression. “It’s as though I belong to myself but don’t. I can’t explain it.”
Esán heard Torgin’s quick intake of breath and calmed his own growing sense of foreboding. “We shared memories in WoNa’s cave. I’d like to try to do it again.”
The RewFaaran scooted backward into the corner of the wagon bed. “The Mindeco got to me, didn’t he? Stay back. I can’t let him get you too.”
“I won’t let the Mindeco hurt me, and we won’t let him get you. As soon as we find Ira and Brie, we’ll attempt to remove its hold on you. Until then, let me shield your mind so it can’t track you.”
Dark auburn hair flipped in his face as he jerked his head from one side to the other. “Where are they? Did it get them?”
Torgin told him about Ira’s disappearance. Esán explained what happened to Brie.
All the while the clip-clopped amble of the horses continued. The farmer’s soft whistle urged them onward. The wagon crested a rolling hill. Some distance below, a village nestled at the edge of a small wood. Beyond it, the Sea of Trinuge gleamed beneath a cloudless sky.
“Whoa, ladies. Whoa.” Strong hands gave a gentle pull and brought the pair to a halt. Repositioning his hat, the farmer shifted to look at his passengers.
“Suggest ya get out here. Sounds like the fewer who see ya the better. What’s the name of the man you’re s’pposed ta see?” He looked from one boy to the next.
Desirol rubbed his brow. “Something Sennd…”
“Ahhh. Well, let me see.” The man tapped his lower lip. “If I wanted to escape from Atkis in a boat… You do want a boat, correct?”
They nodded.
“I think Gregos is your man, Gregos Senndi. Owns a ketch called Melback . If ya can’t locate him, look for Tamosh, his brother. He’ll know where ta find him.” He scratched his dog’s ears. “Best take Shyllee with ya. She’ll warn ya if them things that are followin’ get too close.”
Torgin’s eyes widened. “You’d let us take your dog?”
The farmer laughed. “She’s pining away on the farm. An adventurer at heart. Right, Shyllee?”
“Woof.”
Esán patted a spot next to him. Shyllee leapt lightly into the wagon bed, her long, feathered tail wagging furiously. She was a beauty with silky fur, intelligent dark eyes, and a wet, black nose. Jumping to the ground, she gave a sharp bark.
“She says you’d best get going. Take good care of her, and she’ll take good care of you.” The brim of his hat cast a shadow over his face, but didn’t hide the worry registered there. He reached back and brushed his fingers over Desirol’s temple. “Hustle. Go straight to the waterfront. Shyllee knows the way. The boat’s a forty-four footer, keatwood with green trim. Go.”
Desirol touched his temple, frowned, and scrambled to the ground. Torgin flipped the strap on the flute case over his head and settled it across his chest. Dragging his pack, he crawled to the back of the wagon and jumped down. Esán followed. As his feet hit the ground, the farmer gave a low whistle and the wagon rumbled away.
Desirol stared after it. “We didn’t even get to say thank you.”
“He knows.” Esán headed down the gentle slope. Shyllee dashed ahead, circled back, barked, and trotted in the direction of the sea, her black and tan tail waving like a flag.
By the fountain, Sparrow gave a satisfied sigh. “At least all the children are safe.”
Almiralyn kept her thoughts to herself.
22
Master’s Reach
DerTah
R enn Whalen sat on a large rock, watching the ocean’s eternal pitch and roll. Thoughts of Wilith and Torgin churned in her head. The wind whipping her hair around her face made her feel wild and unrestrained—things she had never before experienced. Even the fear of being found by the Mocendi DiMensioner couldn’t steal her delight at being liberated from Idronatti’s life-stifling rules and rigid schedules. The realization that she had contributed to the pathos in the city left her heart aching and her thoughts reeling.
She ran her uniform scarf through her fingers. The Plan. Whoever thought it up should be thrown into Tower Five. Climbing to her feet, she lifted the blue silk above her head. The wind snatched at it, flipping it into twisted shapes that reminded her of the life she had left behind, of her work, of the damage she had helped to create. She tossed it high, watched it fly, and gave a laugh of relief as it sailed above the water, tumbled into the trough of a cresting wave, and disappeared in the crashing surf. Gone. The life I knew is gone.
She climbed down, picked up a handwoven basket, and
strolled along the tide line. It was at its lowest point. Bibeed called it the gathering tide. She had taught Renn to collect mussels and crabs from tide pools and rocks. Many varieties of seaweed were exposed and available for picking. With a hand made net, she learned to catch small, shrimp-like creatures. All were tasty. Some were cooked, some eaten raw.
“Miss Renn. Miss Renn.” Bibeed’s shout held a note of alarm.
Renn hurried toward her. The woman grabbed the basket and pulled her to a shelter spot beneath the cliffs. They sprinted to the hidden door. Bibeed fumbled for the catch, found it, and pushed her ahead. The door’s soft closing thud left them in darkness.
Renn listened to Bibeed’s labored breathing begin to calm as they made their way down the passage and into what Renn had taken to calling the boathome. It seemed to her as though they had been there for moon cycles. She knew it had been only a few turnings.
Bibeed deposited the basket on the table. “Miss Renn, what do you know about the Mocendi?”
“Only what you have shared.”
“The Mocendi are led by The MasTer. My brother says he is cruel and greedy and plans to rule the Inner Universe. The MasTer can’t leave the planet where he lives or he will die, so he has had to find ways to collect information. One of the ways is a black cloud. My brother didn’t tell me much. He says the less I know, the safer I’ll be. But he did tell me if I saw a black cloud in an otherwise clear sky, I was to hide you fast.” She shivered. “While you were on the beach, I went up to the cottage to get supplies. Don’t worry—I was careful. On the way back, I saw a black cloud creeping over the forest north of here and heading this way. I’m so glad I got to you first.”
“So am I.” Renn swore under her breath. She told Bibeed about her scarf. “Sure hope the sea carried it away from here.”
Bibeed began sorting through the contents of the basket. “What is done cannot be helped. Bet it sank to the bottom.” She looked up and smiled. “You did well today, Miss Renn. I’ll fix you a good dinner.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Fetch water from the spring and wash the seaweed. I’ll prepare the crabs and mussels.”
Renn grabbed a bucket and ducked into a small cavern across the way. The slap of rapid footsteps and the urgency of a low voice she did not recognize made her creep back across the passage.
“You need to leave her and come with me. Being with her could get you killed.”
“Shame on you, Cayled. Since when does a Finnaberry forsake someone in trouble? Miss Renn is a babe, Cay. That place she lived taught her nothing about how to survive outside its walls. I won’t leave her.”
“I’m not askin’ ya, Bibeed. I’m tellin’ ya to come now. The MasTer’s Reach is searching the cliffs. He’s after her . You can’t be with her when he finds her.”
Renn ducked into the cave. Bibeed stood on one side of the table. A sturdy man leaned on the opposite side, his chin jutting out and the muscles of his neck bulging. Bibeed’s stance—feet planted apart and hands on hips—showed a stubbornness Renn had only guessed at.
“Please, don’t fight over me.” She walked to the table and offered her hand. “I’m Coala Renn Whalend.”
Bibeed’s brother hesitated, then took it between his. “Cayled Finnaberry, Miss. I mean you no harm. It’s just…”
“You want to protect your sister. I understand.” She withdrew her hand and looked across the table. “I don’t want you hurt because of me, Bibeed. You must go. I’ll be fine.”
Bibeed’s chin went up in a good imitation of her brother. “I won’t leave you, Miss Renn. Cayled can go.” She shot him a hard look. “I’m staying.”
The man sank onto a camp stool. “Da’am, Bibeed, you’re one stubborn woman.” He seemed to mull over the situation and heaved a burdened sigh. “Guess I’ll just have to stay here and protect the two of ya.”
Bibeed grabbed a stool and pushed it toward Renn, then up-ended a wooden box and sat down.
Renn looked from one to the other. “Cayled, why don’t you tell us why this cloud bothers you so much. Perhaps if we know more, we can come up with a good plan.”
He rubbed the rough, work reddened hands of a fisherman down his pant legs. “These be strange times what with the Mocendi runnin’ amuck all over the Inner Universe and their master gettin’ greedier and greedier. And then to add to the mess, Dreela Omudi, the leader of Geran, is jumping in the same boat and puttin’ all us simple folks at risk. Rumor has it that you’re a real smart lady from another planet. It’s bein’ said The MasTer wants ya for your brain and what it holds. Two turnings ago, an old man came to the village. Warned us to be on the lookout for The Reach. Told us to hide if it came near.” He rubbed his chin and grimaced. “I’m only a simple fisherman, Miss Renn. I love my sister. Nothin’ ’gainst you.”
A shrug ended what Renn thought might be the longest recital of his life.
“Did the man tell you anything else about The Reach?”
His brow creased. “Hmmm. Said it be the eyes, ears, and nose of The MasTer. It’s kinda like one of them dogs they use for findin’ stuff.”
Renn pressed him further. “Can it hurt us?”
Another frown. “Don’t remember him sayin’ so. But The MasTer knows what that cloud knows. If it finds you, Mocendi will come arunnin’.”
Relief lit Bibeed’s eyes. “See, Cayled, as long as Miss Renn stays inside, it can’t find her.”
Cayled gave his sister a sheepish smile. “I’d sure think better if I had a full belly.”
Bibeed laughed. “You’re a good man, Cay. Go get water while Miss Renn and I start fixing a meal.”
“Before you go…” Renn looked from one to the other. “I have a request. Please call me Renn. You are my friends, not my servants.”
Cayled pushed back from the table. When he had ducked into the passage, Bibeed sighed. “He’s a good man, Mi… Renn. Let’s feed him and make a plan.”
Bibeed lit the fire beneath the heavy black cooking pot. When Cayled returned, she half filled it with water. Soon the succulent smell of fish stew wafted through the cave. Renn inhaled. I sure hope the nose of The MasTer is sniffing elsewhere.
Night crept over the Toelachoc Mountains, spilling darkness into every crack and cranny. At the prison, it erased the sun ray by ray until only a vague outline could be seen in the light of the ascending moon.
Karrew tightened his hold on the chair-back and stared out a small, square window. Human thought circled at the outskirts of his memory. Sudden flashes recalled to mind that Efillaeh and the Stone of Remembering had healed his body. He stretched his injured wing. No pain, only stiffness from lack of use. Hopping lightly to the wooden seat, he peered from first one eye and then the other.
Ira leaned against the far wall, snoring softly. Brie snuggled next to him with her head on his shoulder. WoNa lay on a small cot, breathing the long, low breaths of one deep in dreams. Henri sat at the foot of the cot, her chin resting on her chest.
A feral desire for freedom washed over him. A distant memory stirred. An image struggled to form and quickly fled his ability to remember. Fluttering to the chair back, he curled his talons and clung to it like a life line.
He paced from one side to the other, his head bobbing, his mind straining to grasp Human thought. The knife…the stone… One eye inspected the Humans who fought to bring him back to himself. Something’s missing… What?
“Easy, Karrew.”
He cocked his head and eyed Henrietta.
“Stay with me, dear friend. Almiralyn would be heartbroken to lose you, and so would I.”
Almiralyn . Warmth tingled around his heart.
Henri pulled her spectacles from her pocket, held them to her eyes, and scanned the faces of her companions. Now why didn’t the stone and knife do the deed? Her gaze came to rest on Ira. “Ahhhh.” She stroked Karrew’s back. Why did I not think of that before? I wonder where—
A male figure appeared in the doorway. Soft light highlighted folds o
f blue kcalo. He pushed back his hood. Stunningly handsome features etched in Fasfro’s golden light almost took her breath way. A warm smile made his good looks even more dazzling.
She stood and motioned him into the passageway.
A grave expression replaced his smile. “I thought the boy would provide the masculine energy needed to help Karrew. I should have stayed, but—”
“You were afraid WoNa would not remember you.”
He lowered magnificent, dark eyes. “I didn’t want to hurt her.”
“She sensed your presence earlier but did not want to hope and be disappointed. I think it is time to end the charade, don’t you?”
“What of my fa… Dahe Terah?”
“Time will tell that tale. Wait here. I’ll bring her to you. Then we have work to do.”
He nodded and paced the moon-painted lattice work.
She tottered back to the cot and bent over WoNa. “My friend, it is time.”
The Oracle sat up fully awake. “Someone is here?”
“You have a visitor.” Henri led her to the passage and left her captured in moonlight, facing NeTols Terah.
Esán’s gaze skimmed the Atkis waterfront. Torgin, Desirol, and Shyllee clustered behind him. The journey down the hill had been uneventful. Shyllee had led them through a forested area that bordered the village on three sides. Trees and brush provided the perfect cover. No one saw them slip from the woods into the small graveyard behind the church and down the hill to the alleys of Atkis. Esán had sensed nothing following and hoped Shyllee’s calm demeanor indicated that, at least for now, the Mindeco and Astican had lost them.
As he observed villagers bustling about their business, he realized that he and his friends would stick out like Idronattians in the The Borderlands. The drango tunic, leggings, and boots did not mirror the dress of this seaside village.
The UnFolding Collection Three Page 23