“I know you were extremely ill,” said Banner. “They were afraid you might die. That’s why they sent for Kzizysus.”
He nodded. Much of it was a blur, but there were moments when he remembered the aftermath of the fever. He’d wake in the deep of the night, still held in the jaws of the nightmares, clinging terrified to the one who slept beside him, not caring who it was, just that someone was there for him.
“When the need is there,” he murmured. His Triad had been there for him. Kaid had been there.
“After the fever,” prompted Banner gently.
Valsgarth Estate, Zhal-Oeshi, 28th day (August)
Kaid’s wrist comm buzzed gently, waking them both. While his friend took the call, he lay there, unwilling to move, glad of their shared warmth in the chill predawn air.
Finished, Kaid rolled away from him and sat up. “It’s Kzizysus. He and Annuur have found a procedure that will work on you. They want to see you now.”
Still more than half asleep, he barely heard what Kaid was saying. A hand grasped his shoulder and shook him gently.
“Wake up, Kusac. We’ve got to get over to the estate. Kzizysus has found a cure for you.”
He opened his eyes, blinking owlishly. “What?”
Kaid sighed. “Get up. Jo’s having her cub. Rezac needs our support.”
“Rezac? Oh, right,” he said, rubbing his eyes and attempting to sit up. His head felt thick this morning; it was harder than usual to focus on anything.
“Hold on a moment,” said Kaid, leaning over to untangle him from the sheet. “Try now.”
He shivered as he got up, reaching hurriedly for his tunic and hauling it on. Stumbling across the room, he opened his chest and pulled out one of his black robes.
“What?” he asked, turning round as he fought his arms into the sleeves. There was a puzzled look on Kaid’s face. “I’m cold,” he said, shivering again as he pulled his robe closed and fastened the tie belt.
“You’ll be too hot in a couple of hours,” said Kaid patiently, putting on his own tunic then going to get his coat from the hook on the door. “These freak dawn winds from the sea usually lift by sunup. Don’t forget your utility belt.”
“I thought this would be over now we’ve found Vartra’s tomb,” he said.
“Lijou says it should be soon. It takes time for the Entities to be persuaded to open Their realms again. Even Vartra can’t do it overnight.”
Crossing back to his side of the bed, he scrabbled on the floor for it, finally finding it actually under the bed.
Muttering fretfully, he fastened it over the top of the narrow tie belt. It was uncomfortable, and he began tugging at it, trying to center it. Kaid’s hand closed round his arm.
“It’s fine,” he said. “Come on, we have to leave.”
As they reached the main lobby, the smell of food penetrated his sleep-fogged mind. “Hungry,” he said, heading toward the kitchens with the single-mindedness of a sleepwalker.
Kaid lunged after him. “No,” he said, steering him toward the exit. “We’re going home, remember?”
“Oh, yes. Jo and Rezac. We’ll eat there, though, won’t we?” he yawned, wishing he could shake off his tiredness.
“Yes, we’ll eat at home.”
Their aircar was parked round the back. Nodding to the guards huddled in their winter coats, they threaded their way through the vehicles till they reached it. He waited patiently, smothering more yawns until Kaid opened the door.
“This is your worst morning yet,” said Kaid as he started up the aircar. “I’m beginning to get concerned about you. At least you’re seeing Kzizysus today.”
“I’m fine,” he yawned, reclining his seat and trying to curl up in it. “What’s this about Kzizysus? I seem to remember you mentioned him earlier.”
“He’s been working on a procedure to help you. Tirak called Carrie to say he was ready to try it out.”
He tried to make sense of the words but his mind refused to concentrate on anything.
“Kusac? Did you hear me?”
“I heard you,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and letting the comfortable warm feeling inside his head spread through his limbs.
“Well?” asked Kaid, glancing across at him.
“I need to speak to Carrie,” he mumbled.
“You’re not thinking of turning him down, are you?”
He couldn’t think of anything right now. “Let me sleep,” he said. “I’m tired.”
*
Kaid was shaking him again. “We’re here, Kusac.”
Stretching and yawning, he sat up, returning the chair to an upright position. “That’s Annuur’s shuttle,” he said. “I thought you’d be landing at the villa.”
“I told you, Kzizysus is ready to…”
“But I’m not,” he interrupted quietly. “I’m not, Kaid. I need time to think this through. Take me home, please.”
Kaid looked at him. “If that’s what you want,” he said, starting up the aircar again.
*
Carrie was waiting for them.
“You shouldn’t have called her,” he said, getting up out of his seat. “There’s no need to make an issue out of it. I just want some time to think, that’s all.”
“What’s to think about?” asked Kaid, turning round to stop him. “This is what we’ve all been praying for, a chance for you to get your life back.”
“It’s not that simple any more, Kaid,” he said softly, pulling away from him. “There’s more to it than you think.” He turned and, opening the door, jumped down to the ground.
“I was expecting to meet you down by Annuur’s shuttle,” said Carrie, reaching out to greet him.
Time slipped back and he saw her not as she was now, but as she’d been when she was carrying their cub, Kashini. He swept her into his arms, holding her close, just breathing in her scent. To have his old life back, his Talent again…But he could never regain his old life. She was Kaid’s Leska now, even though this far into her pregnancy, her own Talent was sleeping because of her unborn cub.
“Gods, I love you so much, Carrie,” he whispered, almost crushing her in his need to hold her close.
Her hands closed round his face, pulling it up from her shoulder so she could kiss him with all the fierceness he’d missed. His torc vibrated gently, letting him hear the sounds of her mind.
Slowly, their lips parted. “You aren’t going to…”
He touched his lips to hers again, silencing her before letting her go. “Thank Kzizysus, but say I need time to think about it. I’ll let him know as soon as I can.”
She nodded slowly.
“Stop looking so worried,” he said, flicking her cheek with his fingers. “I’m only going to walk in the garden, nothing more, I promise. You take Kaid to Jo and Rezac. They need your company more than I do right now.”
He left her there and headed toward the small stream that ran through their land, thankful that the cold wind had indeed gone. The presence of open water had always helped him relax and concentrate. Right now, his mind seemed to slide away from anything that wasn’t of the moment.
The sound of running water chuckling and gurgling as it tumbled over its bed of stones came to meet him as he got closer to the stream. Almost immediately, he could feel its soothing influence touching something deep inside him. Across the Nazule Bay, he could see the brassy disk of the sun beginning to clear the horizon. As he headed inland along the bank of the stream, the day’s heat began to build.
He had a particular spot in mind, where the stream usually widened, its flow slowing as it formed a pool overshadowed by the trailing branches of trees. Last year he’d picnicked there several times with Carrie. It was just inside the woodland that marked the original boundaries of the villa’s land.
He stopped at the edge of the clearing. Someone was already there, crouched on his haunches at the edge of the pool. Beside him lay the silver bodies of three medium-sized fish.
Moving quietly off the path,
he concealed himself behind a group of trees and waited.
The stranger sat as still as if carved in wood, casting no shadow on the pool’s gently moving surface. Forearms resting on his knees, body tilted slightly toward the water, he watched and waited. Suddenly, he plunged his arm into the pool, flicking a silver shape high into the air. Sunlight glinted off silver scales and droplets of water as the fish arced upward, flipping over and over before falling slowly downward again to land on the bank beside the other three.
“I’ve caught our first meal. I think it only fair you should cook it.”
Startled, he looked back at the stranger. He’d been so focused on watching the fish that he’d forgotten the fisherman.
“This is private land,” he said, stepping out from behind his cover. Head bent, the stranger was gutting his catch on a large, flat stone.
“I know. You aren’t going to let that bother you, are you? No one’s going to miss four fish that didn’t belong to them anyway.”
Now he was in the clearing, he could smell the fire.
“I know how to set a fire safely,” said the stranger before he could speak. “Anyone ever told you that you worry too much?”
“Who are you?” he asked, hand resting on his pistol butt as he advanced on him. “What are you doing on my land?”
“Making a meal for you. Forget your weapon, you won’t need it,” he said, looking up. “I’m no threat to you.”
The fisherman’s body was totally relaxed, no sign of tension, even in the set of his ears or the tail that lay still against his ankles; he wasn’t prepared for trouble. There was something familiar about him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Deciding to trust his instincts for now, he walked around him and squatted down on the other side of the small fire.
“Here,” the stranger said, passing him four long greenwood sticks. “Put the fish over the fire to grill.”
Putting the sticks on the ground, he reached out for the first of the gutted fish. Small slits had been cut in the sides for him to push the stick through, and a makeshift rack had been set up on either side of the fire. He pushed the fish onto the middle of the stick then balanced it across the rack.
He was reaching for the last one when the stranger caught hold of his wrist, turning his hand over, revealing the still tender scars that ran the length of his palm.
“Ah, bonding scars. You were thorough. Perhaps it was a new marriage?” The fisherman looked up at him briefly, his thumb stroking gently over the scars. “No, an oath. It was important to you.”
He pulled his hand away. “My business,” he said sharply. “You’ve told me nothing about yourself.”
“It’s been a long time since I went fishing,” said the stranger, mouth opening in a grin as he reached across for the remaining stick and threaded the last fish onto it. “I used to enjoy fishing when I was younger.”
“Who are you?”
“A friend,” he said, then pointed to the fire. “I’d check your meal if I were you. Sounds like they need turning.”
He hadn’t been aware of the gentle hissing and spitting coming from the fish until then. To his surprise, he found they did need turning. Hot juices splattered his fingers, making him wince and yelp as he attempted to turn them. With much blowing and sucking of his fingers, he finally accomplished it.
The stranger sat there laughing gently at his antics.
“What the hell are you burning in that fire?” he demanded, turning around to swill his tingling fingers in the pool. “I’ve never known food to cook so quickly!”
“Just wood.” Leaning forward, the fisherman flipped the last fish over and sniffed audibly. “Smells good. Nothing quite like eating food you’ve caught and prepared yourself, is there?”
“I’d have liked it better if it hadn’t burned me,” he replied caustically, taking his fingers out of the water and wiggling them experimentally.
“Have you ever gone fishing?”
“Once or twice, but not like this, without a line or net.”
“And cooked like this?” The stranger gestured to his fire and the grilling fish.
“I haven’t.”
“If you’d stayed in your garden, we wouldn’t have met and your fingers wouldn’t be singed. But here we are, trying something new. Worth a couple of lightly broiled fingers, don’t you think?”
“I did cook like this once,” he said, suddenly remembering. “When I met my life-mate. We were on Keiss, her world. I hunted for chiddoelike creatures and baked them in clay.”
“So you have an adventurous side,” the stranger said, reaching for two large leathery leaves. Taking two of the fish off the fire and placing them on one leaf, he deftly pulled the sticks free. “And you weren’t burned that time.” He held the leaf out to him.
“How d’you know that?” he demanded, accepting the rustic meal.
“You’d have mentioned it.”
The smell was mouthwatering. He didn’t care that the fish couldn’t possibly have been cooked so quickly, they smelled as if they were. Putting the leaf on the ground in front of him, he extended his claws and carefully spread the fish open. Pulling off a few flakes, he nibbled them experimentally. They tasted as good as they smelled. He picked up the leaf and began to eat, keeping his eyes on the stranger.
“You’re so suspicious. Why can’t you just accept something good when it’s offered to you?”
The conviction that there was something familiar about the stranger was growing stronger, but his hunger demanded to be satisfied.
“Nothing comes free,” he said, scooping up more. “There’s always a sting of some kind.”
“Not always. This, for instance.” The fisherman’s gesture took in the campfire and them. “This is pleasant. I’m enjoying talking to you as much as I’m enjoying the food.”
“Your point being?” He scraped up the last morsels before putting the leaf down and beginning to lick his fingers clean.
“Life is full of risks. There are no certainties, no guarantees. To achieve anything worthwhile, you have to take risks. You don’t always burn your fingers.”
He removed his fingers slowly from his mouth, looking carefully at the stranger, taking in the brown tunic, the tan pelt and tall thin ears— all features typical of one with desert tribal ancestry. “I know you from somewhere,” he said. “We’ve met before, haven’t we?”
“Once or twice, but I hate formality. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you like this.” In one fluid move, the stranger got to his feet. “I have to go now, but before I do, remember one thing, Kusac. You have only one choice to make today. To be yourself. Everything else will follow because each of you is bound to the others by oaths, by blood, and by love. Trust that strength in your Triad to see you through what lies ahead.”
“Wait!” he called out, leaping to his feet as the stranger turned and began to walk down the path. He ran after him, turning the corner to collide with Kaid.
“Where’d he go?” he demanded as Kaid grabbed hold of him.
“Who?”
“The male who just went round the corner!”
“No one came round the corner, Kusac.”
“He must have,” he said, pulling free to run a short way down the empty path. He ground to a halt, looking round frantically, but even the dry scrubland on either side of the path was empty. Turning round, he went slowly back to Kaid. “I don’t understand it. He was here. He was fishing in the pool. We cooked and ate the fish he’d caught.”
He saw the disbelieving look on Kaid’s face and pushed past him. “I’ll prove it,” he said. “The fire’s still there.”
“The stream’s too low for fish because of the drought,” Kaid called out after him.
The clearing was empty, with no scent or sign of a fire. “I don’t understand,” he said, looking round in bewilderment. “He was here.” He bent down, scratching at the sun-baked earth where the fire had been, but there was nothing— no ashes, no heat in the ground except the heat of the sun be
ating down through the parched leaves of the trees overhead.
Kaid stepped past him, walking over to the side of the shallow pool. Stooping, he picked something up from the water margin.
“What is it?” he asked, looking over at him.
“A flower,” said Kaid. “A nung flower.” He held it out to him. “You’ve been gone three hours, Kusac, that’s why I came to fetch you.”
“Impossible!” he said, taking the still fresh flower from him. “Half an hour at most.”
“Check the sun’s position when we leave the clearing.”
*
They walked back in silence until Kaid asked, “What did Vartra want?”
“To talk. We talked about how much he enjoyed fishing.”
Kaid said nothing more until they were in the family garden. “Have you made a decision about Kzizysus?”
He looked at the nung flower again. “What did Kzizysus say?”
“It was Tirak I spoke to. The procedure’s been tried out on several jeggets who all recovered completely, including having their psi abilities restored. At the worst, says Tirak, it’ll remove the tendrils. You won’t need to take psi suppressants and the pain you feel when you’re angry will be gone permanently.”
“And the risks?”
“He didn’t mention any.”
“I’ll talk to Kzizysus,” he said as they reached the open doors of the den.
*
Before leaving the villa, he’d spent a few minutes with Kashini, then gone to the suite he and Carrie had shared to call his parents.
Kaid found him there, taking off his black robe.
“You were right, I’m too hot now,” he said, making an effort to fold the robe and failing because his hands were shaking.
Kaid took it from him and flung it onto the nearest chair. “Accept the chance Kzizysus is offering, Kusac,” he said, taking hold of him by the shoulders. “I told you from the start that what matters most is getting you cured.”
“I want to, but I need to know what Kzizysus is going to do. I need to be me again, Kaid,” he said, dropping his gaze. He was finding it difficult to look him in the eyes, aware, through his torc, of Kaid’s emotions. “I have to find myself, just as you needed to when you discovered you were from the past. But at least I know where to start from.”
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