Dark Nadir

by Lisanne Norman

  Brynne held his palm out to receive the object. “A coin?” He looked up at the male in surprise.

  “Show it to Dhaika and say the owner gave it to you to keep. Remember that part, Brynne Stevens, that the coin is yours. It will work for no one else.”

  “Work?” asked Brynne, looking at the triple spiral pattern on its face. Then he realized the male had started walking again and ran to catch up. “What do you mean, work?”

  “Watch carefully the route you take to get home and remember it well. When you wish to visit me again, take the same route. I will be waiting for you. Have this coin, it’ll open the door. Tell Dhaika he is to teach you to dream-walk.”

  “But . . .”

  “Tell him what I said.” The voice was firm. “As for Derwent, there is a link between you, but the realms of this world are now barred to him. He’ll not call you there again. However, he will remain a danger to you until that link has been severed. You must tell Master Lijou about it. He’ll know what to do.” He touched the door and it swung open to reveal darkness outside.

  “Thank you,” said Brynne, stepping outside. “But . . .” The door had closed silently behind him, revealing on its face the same triple spiral pattern as the coin. But in its heart was a blue-white faceted crystal.

  Unsure what to do next, Brynne looked around. It was pitch black here, not a glimmer of moonlight even. Then he saw a point of green light approaching him. The closer it got, the larger it grew, and he knew this was his path home. In his arms, the jegget whimpered, reminding him he still held it. He looked round hurriedly but there was nowhere suitable to put it down.

  “Looks like you and me’ve got to ride this one out together,” he muttered, bracing himself.

  Remember the route, a voice echoed in his head as the green light surrounded him and swept him away.

  Cradled within it, he was carried along faster and faster until he found himself suddenly deposited at an archway. Beyond it, he could see the familiar glow of the meditation lamp and the gently flickering shadows on the walls.

  “Reckon this is our stop, girl,” he said, stepping through it. Abruptly, he found himself back in the meditation room with the scent of nung tree incense heavy in the air. A figure opposite him stirred, his shadow becoming separate from the rest.

  “You were gone for a long time,” said Jurrel quietly. “Where were you?”

  “I wish I could tell you,” said Brynne, blinking and putting up his hand to rub his eyes. A movement on his lap drew his instant attention. Curled up on his black robe lay a sleeping jegget. “Oh, Gods,” he moaned, shutting his eyes momentarily as fear clutched his vitals. He opened his hand and looked at the coin he held. “It was true. It really happened.” He turned the coin over to find the symbol of the Brotherhood.

  Jurrel leaned forward. “Vartra’s bones! Who gave you a Guild coin?”

  “I’d rather not say,” said Brynne faintly. “Do you think Father Lijou would mind being disturbed right now?”

  “Not when he sees that coin,” said Jurrel. “We’ll use the comm in my room. I know it’s secure.”

  “No, I need to go to Stronghold tonight,” said Brynne, staggering to his feet, the jegget clutched firmly to his chest.

  * * *

  When Lijou arrived back from the meeting, Rhyaz was sitting inside the lobby waiting for him.

  “Dhaika won’t honor our agreement,” he said shortly, stopping long enough to hand his cloak to his aide. “The council voted not to teach him. We need to be autonomous, Rhyaz! I will not have this happening again!”

  “We are virtually autonomous, Lijou,” said Rhyaz, taking him by the arm to guide him upstairs.

  “Not when it comes to dream-walking!” He resisted. “I want to go into the temple.”

  “Very well,” said Rhyaz, changing direction to accompany him. “You have the skill, Lijou. We don’t need Dhaika.”

  “I’m too new at it to teach anyone. I need time and practice to perfect it for myself before I can even think of showing anyone else how to do it! I couldn’t make them see that the fate of Shola could hang on us having Brynne trained and ready! No, don’t come with me. I need time to get rid of my temper,” he said, pushing the heavy door open. “I’ll see you shortly.”

  Rhyaz nodded and waited till his co-leader had gone in before turning to Lijou’s aide, Yaszho. He raised a questioning eye ridge.

  “He’s not pleased,” Yaszho ventured. “He was silent for the whole journey.”

  Rhyaz nodded and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. A noise from outside drew his attention. An aircar so late? Frowning, he strolled into the duty room to see for himself who was landing.

  “Jurrel and Brynne, Master Rhyaz,” said the Brother on duty at the comm.

  “Indeed,” he murmured as he headed back into the lobby again. What, or who, had brought them here on the heels of the meeting?

  “Master Rhyaz,” murmured Jurrel as they entered.

  “Do you know where Father Lijou is?” asked Brynne. “I need to see him.”

  “Is it urgent? He’s in the temple at the moment.” Was that a jegget the Human was carrying?

  “You don’t mind me bringing her in, do you?” asked Brynne. “I need her to show Father Lijou.”

  “They’re vermin, you know,” said Rhyaz, looking in surprise at the small mammal. He’d never seen one up this close before. Mainly white, her nose and ear tips were a soft, dark brown in color. Small black eyes glittered up at him as she surveyed him with as much curiosity. “They can’t survive naturally this high in the mountains. If it gets loose and it’s pregnant, we’ll be overrun with them come autumn. It would be better if you left her with the guards.”

  “Oh, she isn’t pregnant,” assured Brynne. “And she seems quite tame. Maybe she was someone’s pet.”

  “Pet?”

  “An animal you keep as a companion to talk to and stroke,” explained Brynne. “But being furred, I don’t suppose a furry critter has that much appeal for you.”

  “You keep animals in your homes?” This astonished him.

  “I guess you don’t have pets, then. She won’t get loose, I promise. I need to show her to Father Lijou.”

  Rhyaz sighed. It was late and he didn’t have any interest in prolonging this discussion. “If you plan to keep her, you’ll have to have her in a container that she can’t escape from,” he said.

  Brynne turned to Jurrel, who sighed. “I’ll see what I can find. I guess we’ll need stuff for her to eat and drink as well.”

  Brynne flashed a smile of thanks and headed for the temple doors. As he walked down the main aisle toward the statue, he couldn’t see the priest anywhere. The light from the braziers drew his gaze.

  “Vartra’s bones,” he whispered, feeling the color drain from his face as he realized just who he’d been talking to that night. “It was Him!”

  “What was him?” asked a voice he recognized as the Head Priest’s.

  He turned to find Lijou standing between the pillars on his left. “I saw Him tonight!” he said, pointing incredulously at the statue.

  “Vartra? You saw Vartra?” Disbelievingly, Lijou came closer. “What are you holding?”

  “A jegget. She came back with me. I was called somewhere by Derwent and He, the God, rescued me. He gave me a coin to show Dhaika and told me that you should sever the link between me and Derwent.” It all poured out in a rush that probably didn’t make much sense, Brynne realized, watching the various movements of Lijou’s ears and eye ridges for telltale signs of his emotions. There were a lot.

  Lijou took him by the arm and led him off to the side chapel of Ghyakulla. Once they were sitting, he said, “Start at the beginning.”

  * * *

  By the end of his tale, Lijou was holding the coin in his hand and watching as the jegget sniffed her way cautiously round the small indoor garden. He smiled, then he began to laugh, loudly. When he stopped, he patted Brynne on the back.

  “You keep your jegget wit
h the blessing of Vartra, and me!” he said. “She’s rather special. Anyone bothers you about her, tell them she’s been granted sanctuary here by me. A pet, eh? I wonder if Kha’Qwa would like one. She’s been a little low lately.”

  Chapter 8

  Day 13

  NOTHING was said about his failure with the Cabbarans. J’koshuk knew it was a failure because obviously the Primes had been trying to keep the navigators separate from the rest of the crew. For three days he’d continued interrogating the members of his crew brought to him by the Primes. Then on the fourth, he was taken to the room where he’d viewed the culling, over a week ago now.

  They passed a gurney being towed down the corridor toward the medical section. He stopped dead, recognizing his old rival Mzayb’ik lying there, his head heavily bandaged.

  “What . . .” he began.

  “It is not your concern,” said the guard, pushing him on.

  A shiver ran down his spine. He would have argued, wanting to know more about his rival, but he remembered what the Seniormost had said about the guards and their tendency to overreact.

  * * *

  Two things were immediately obvious to him. Of the crew of nearly eighty, barely half remained in a room that was now laid out like a hospital ward. All present sat or lay on treatment beds staring vacantly into space. The second was a flash of floating drapery as a door at the far end of this room closed. The shock of the scene before him rendered him speechless and he could only stand and stare disbelievingly.

  Three Seniormost were present, one of them wearing a gold tabard over the dark body armor. Was this their general? He knew they were looking at and discussing him. How, he’d no idea, but he knew.

  The smaller gray-clad Prime and the one in gold left, accompanied by two heavily armed guards.

  “I am giving you more freedom,” said one of the remaining Primes. He pointed to a table in front of him. “Wear this communicator at all times. You will report to this area when it shows the eighth hour after midnight. You will take your designated prisoners, one at a time, to the interrogation room. Violence will not be used unless absolutely necessary. You will extract the information we want verbally, if possible. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Seniormost.”

  “These males each carry an implant in their head. If it is damaged, they may terminate. This is to be avoided.”

  “Yes, Seniormost,” he chanted, then the words actually registered in his brain. Implants?

  “Failure to comply will result in severe punishment being inflicted on you. Do not make it more expedient to implant you with one of our control devices.”

  He paled at the words, icy fingers of fear running down his spine. “Yes, Seniormost,” he whispered. His obedient reply was no meaningless chorus this time.

  “You may not approach any closed air lock door. This sector is sealed off from the rest of our ship. Any attempt to move out of this area will be punishable by instant death. Your collar has a locator in it. Your movements are constantly tracked. We do not need to find you to kill you.”

  A guard came forward to hand him a small comp reader. J’koshuk’s hand trembled as he took it.

  “The questions we want answered are on this. Do not lose it. The sessions will be monitored, as will your progress. Do not fail to achieve the results we expect.”

  “I won’t,” he said fervently.

  “Take the communicator,” said the Prime, pointing to a small table in front of them.

  He stepped closer to the viewing window to pick up the clip-on wrist unit. Glancing up, he looked through the window. He could see what the Prime was talking about now. Fixed to the head of each of his people was a small, dark object, barely an inch across. Instinctively, he put his hand up to his own head, feeling the smooth dome of his skull, just to be sure.

  * * *

  Day 14

  The next day, Master Sorli’s wife, Mayoi, waited for Kitra Aldatan to arrive with a mixture of feelings. Personally, she felt a great deal of sympathy for the youngling. Kitra had seen her brother and elder sister make unconventional matches of love, and now she was being offered up as the sacrifice to Clan customs in an arranged match. It was particularly sad since she had already formed an obviously deep attachment with one of the Brothers on the home estate. However, as life-mate of the Telepath Guild Master, her own duty was clear. She must uphold the Clan laws, and Kitra’s behavior, though not exactly breaking them, was certainly crushing them underfoot.

  A knock on the door, and the young female entered.

  She’s so like her mother, Mayoi thought, watching her walk across to the desk, tail swaying insolently, an unconcerned air on her face. Rhyasha was just as self-possessed when we were that age! She’s not going to be easy to deal with.

  “Sit down, Kitra,” she said, indicating the formal chair beside the desk. “I regret having to speak to you like this, but I’ve had a complaint about your behavior from the Chazoun Clan.”

  Kitra frowned, nose wrinkling slightly. “What have the Chazoun Clan to do with how I behave?”

  Yes, she was going to be difficult. “Your betrothed is Ashok Chazoun,” she reminded her gently.

  Kitra’s frown vanished and her mouth opened in a smile. “So he is. I’d forgotten.”

  Mayoi ignored it. There was no point fighting that battle when Kitra obviously wanted it so much. “Your betrothal and wedding are only a week away, Kitra. You should be planning for that, not visiting the males’ dormitory after your curfew.”

  “The curfew is for younglings, Mistress Mayoi,” she said, playing with the end of a lock of her hair. “Since I’m to be married like an eighteen year old in just over a week’s time, why should I observe a curfew set for younger females?”

  “Because you aren’t eighteen, Kitra. And even if you were, you should not be visiting the young males at any time of night. You’re lucky your father hasn’t chosen to have you chaperoned!” She was beginning to lose her patience, which was exactly what Kitra wanted. “If I find you out of your room after curfew again, I’ll appoint a chaperone myself.”

  Kitra looked at her with wide-eyed surprise. “Are you afraid I’ll get myself pregnant to avoid this life-bonding?”

  Mayoi softened again. “No, Kitra, I don’t think anyone would believe you capable of such a selfish and foolish act. But your behavior is embarrassing for Ashok and his family. They’re not to blame for your situation. It’s not fair to take it out on them.”

  “It’s not fair of the Clan Council to demand I marry this early either!” she retorted, standing up. “Is that all, Mistress Mayoi? As you said, it’s past my bedtime.”

  She sighed. What was the point? The Council were mad to try to impose this match on such a spirited youngling. “Yes, you can go, but be warned. I meant what I said, Kitra!”

  She was gone in a flash, leaving the door wide open behind her. Mayoi sighed. She’d tell the Chazouns she’d spoken to her, but she’d also remind them Kitra was barely more than a cub and they needed to be patient with her. Sorli and Master Konis were right, the Clan laws needed changing, and quickly.

  * * *

  “The Betrothal ceremony will not be held here,” said Rhyasha with finality.

  Konis paced in front of her desk. “It has to be held here, Rhyasha! I’m her father and the Clan Lord!”

  “Then hold it in your office in Shanagi, but it will not happen here! I thought you’d learned better after we nearly lost both Kusac and Carrie, but it seems I was wrong. You should be standing up to that council of old aunties and refusing to allow Kitra to marry at her age!”

  He turned on her angrily. “I can’t! The laws need to be changed, and I cannot do that unless I’m Clan Lord! You know that pack are so conventional they’d vote me out with no discussion needed if I’d refused.”

  “So you’d rather sacrifice our youngest daughter,” she said, sitting back in her chair and regarding him coldly. “I don’t understand your behavior, Konis. If you really intend to go
ahead with this betrothal, then as Clan Leader, I refuse to offer you our hospitality. No.”

  “You’d do that?” he asked, shocked. “You’d use your rank over me like this?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re pushing me into a corner, Rhyasha. Don’t do this,” he pleaded, placing his hands on the desk and leaning toward her.

  “Where do you think Kitra is right now? Your decision will not only give her a life-mate she doesn’t want, but has already lost her her Companion!”

  “Kitra ended that relationship . . .”

  “When you ordered Dzaka not to see her till after the bonding and he obeyed you,” she finished.

  Konis had the grace to admit his error. “All right, I agree I said that. But Kitra’s Betrothal must be held here. Rhyasha, don’t fight me over this. I don’t need a confrontation with you. I’ve a lot of stress at work right now with these treaty talks.”

  “The Chazouns can host it just as easily. In fact, there’s no need for a Betrothal ceremony at all. Kitra’s below the legal age to sign it. Just call Ashok and his parents into your office and get them to witness your signature for her! Then all you have to worry about is getting her to the temple the next day. As for your work, what stress? Kusac and Kaid did the preliminary groundwork. All your department has to do is get High Command to decide on the military clauses and add them to the treaty!”

  He realized he’d said more than he should and tried to focus on his original point. “Are you saying you won’t even sign the Betrothal contract?”

  “Damned right I won’t! I don’t agree to this at all! I should have stood up more for Kusac, and I’m not making the same mistake this time. If you want your daughter bonded like this, you can sign all the papers yourself.”

  “Think of how this will look,” he pleaded. “It’ll cause a scandal! As her Clan Leader, you must sign.”

  “My signature isn’t necessary. As Clan Lord and my husband you outrank me on this issue, so I’m exercising my right to register my disapproval. I wouldn’t sell my daughter to maintain my position on that council if it stooped to blackmailing me, and neither should you!”