Annah and the Children of Evohe

by Clay Gilbert

  Kyrin smiled. “I understand.”

  This is not the way things are done, Annah thought as she moved through the crowd toward the place where Holder stood. But I do not care. All of this should be for Holder and me. I should be Promised to him, not to Jonan. Holder caught Annah’s arm when she was still a few feet away from the gazebo, pulling her aside. A few of the youths eyed them, but quickly looked away.

  She gave him a quick kiss. “Come here,” she said, pulling him with her into the woods.

  “Isn’t this-irregular?” “Yes, it is,” Annah said. “But I am not very regular.” She pressed herself against him, feeling his growing hardness through his pants, pressing against her thigh.

  He gave her a long, lingering kiss, wrapping one arm around her and pulling her closer to him.

  She licked his earlobe, sucking on it; moving down to kiss his neck. “God, Annah,” Holder breathed. “I want you so much. I’ve missed you so much.” He let his hands play with the curls of her hair as they kissed, moving them down to stray over her breasts, her belly, and then between her legs, where his fingers teased the opening of her blossom. He could hear her breathing quickening against his ear, and a tiny, barelyheld-back moan.

  “I want you too, my dearest,” she gasped. “I love you. But” “It would be so easy, you know,” he murmured against her ear, making her breathe harder and squirm against him even more. “Here in the woods. No one would see.”

  Annah thought about it. She would be examined before the ritual. It would, in fact, be Kyrin who did it. And if it were discovered that she was notuntried-neither the Promising nor the Choosing would be allowed to take place. She would be outcast. Not that that would be much of a change, for me, anyway. But my family would be dishonored. But I would be free from Jonan—

  She felt Holder’s fingers teasing her blossom; kissed him hard, her tongue wrapping around his. I would be free, butshe broke the kiss.

  “Holder, we cannot,” in a ragged voice, sounding as though she were trying to convince herself as much as Holder. “We cannot. They would only cast me out, but I could not do that to my family, and I do not know what they would do to you.” She pulled away from him, only a little, but enough. “I am sorry, my dearest. Just know-just know that there is nothing anyone can ever do to change the fact of my love for you.”

  “I love you too, Annah,” he said, his fingers brushing her cheek. “But I hate this.” Annah gave him a last, gentle kiss, then ran away through the woods to where she knew Kyrin would be waiting— before she could change her mind.

  * * *

  Holder hadn’t stayed for the whole ceremony. Such a damn joke. This whole place is such a joke. Not a damn bit better than back home, except for her. He climbed into the ship. Maybe one or two nights’ more work, and it’d be as good as new. Least the ‘com works. He flashed through the channels. Nothing. More nothing. Then, strangely, he came across someone saying his name.

  “Holder. Gary Holder. If you’re out there, answer back. Oh, yeah. The name’s Kale Goodman.” Goodman, thought Holder. He’d been some kind of military hero or something, and now he’s some kind of somebody in Homesec. Big deal. Holder punched down the ‘com switch. “All right, Goodman. Holder here. Whaddaya want?”

  “Someone to talk to, I guess,” Goodman said. “I guess you didn’t buy the farm, after all. And I guess they didn’t do such a great job of wiping out that planet you’re on.”

  What?” Holder asked. “How do you-”

  “Did some checking up. It’s called Evohe.” Evohe. Holder had never heard anyone say the name, but Annah had sung it once, and that’s how it had sounded. “I wish I could see it,” Goodman said.

  “There’s not much here,” Holder said. A lie, but this planet had already had enough problems. “How are things back home?”

  “They’re going to hell, man. Commander Reynolds died today. Maybe you just better stay where you are. They’re gonna try to kick all the Offworlders back off-world.”

  Holder snorted. “How the hell are they gonna pull that off?” “Dunno,” Goodman said. “But when they try, there’s gonna be the biggest war this planet’s ever seen. And you better know, Homesec’s up to its armpits in it, now that the old man’s gone. I should go, though. Listen, Holder, I’m glad you’re out there. Gives me a little hope. I’d like to learn more about Evohe sometime.”

  “Sure,” Holder said. “Goodman, you stay safe.” “I’ll talk at you later. If I’m still here. Don’t have a whole lot of love for my own kind, sometimes. And this world’s not so friendly to ‘ET sympathizers’ anymore. You a ‘sympathizer’, Holder?”

  Holder laughed. If you only knew. “You could say that. Look, Goodman, I don’t really know you, but if this thing gets any hotter, and you need a place, come find me.”

  “Will do. Thanks, man.”

  * * *

  “The ceremony was beautiful, don’t you think, Annah?” Jonan asked. I wish he would stop trying to get me to talk. She had said what was required of her in the ritual, and then she had fallen silent, and had not spoken again. It makes him angry, she thought, although it should not. Does not a seedmaiden who just gave her life away gain the right to be silent a while, if she so chooses? She would, she supposed, have to speak to him eventually. But not now, please. Not now. Her wish was not granted.

  “You do not look well, beloved,” Jonan said.

  “Do not call me that. I do not like it.” Not from you.

  “Are you ill?” I know he is not this stupid. Perhaps he thinks I am. Very well. I will allow him to think it, for a time. “I have had a difficult day-my Promised One.” The last words choked her, but she forced them out. Enraging him would help neither herself nor Holder.

  Jonan’s stern face softened. “I am sorry. It is often so for seed-maidens newly Promised. So I am told, by those wiser than I am. If it helps you to know, Annah-I was nervous, too.”

  “Thank you for telling me this, Jonan.” It does not help now, but in another life—it might have.

  “Are you hungry? I know that the ceremony was long, and the sun was hot.” He asks nothing about Holder. He knows that is what troubles me. And he thinks my feelings will wither, like an untended sprout, if they are ignored. I will be so glad to leave this place, even if I may not be free of him. A seedmaiden and seed-youth customarily spent one last night in the Temple of Promise following the ritual, after which they returned to the hearth-fires of their parents, to wait out the time until their Ceremony of Choosing was to take place.

  “I am not terribly hungry, but if there are any of the sweetglobes left that were gifted to us, I would take one.”

  “The fruits themselves are gone, but there remains a pitcher of their nectar, if that would please you.” You do not want to know what would please me, Annah thought. “Yes, that will do.” She found herself very thirsty. She had not been to swim in the stream since she had been in the Temple of Promise, and she had had nothing to drink today-and it had been hot. Annah wished Jonan wasn’t being so kind-but she knew why he was doing it. He thinks he has me, now. If I will not treat him as a lover-and I will not-then he will treat me as a kept thing; a pet, at best—-or a possession. And does one not keep one’s possessions in good condition?

  These must have been late-season sweetglobes, Annah thought, for they had a tartness about them that belied their name. The taste fit her mood, though, and the fruit did soothe her thirst. And thankfully, Jonan left her in peace as she ate. Tomorrow, she would go back to her grove: her family, and those few she could count as friends. Jonan would still have access to herthough not as he would like tobut Annah thought she might be able to sway her parents’ disapproval of Holder somewhat, over time. I must try, in any case, and just how I am to do that will give me something to occupy my mind in my last few hours in this prison of stone and glass.

  “The juice was very good, Jonan.” Annah held her tone even, measured. The Old Ones had told her, with their dreaming-words, that the great Shapers of the past h
ad been not only skilled healers and singers, but also adept diplomats and negotiators as well. To be a Shaper, they had taught her, one must have control of one’s reason at all times. This did not mean to be free of passion, for passion was a gift of the First Ones-but reason, and even more than this, adherence to the will of Spirit-balanced all things.

  “I am glad you enjoyed it,” Jonan said.

  “I am very tired,” she told him. “I think I will lie down for a time.” There was a curtain of cloth between the main room of the Temple and the bedchamber, partially to keep out the sunlight when one or both of the Promised pair was sleeping, but also to offer some degree of privacy, even from each other, if need be. There was no latch on the curtain, though; no gate or lock, only honor to keep one out if they were not wanted.

  Annah squirmed in her sleep, dreaming of Holder. It was not quite a full-dreaming: Annah’s mind rarely immersed itself fully in that sort of sleep, but rather a state like the waking-dreams of the Shaper’s trance. It was a skill she’d learned as a bloomling, to ward against the nightmares she sometimes suffered in those years. The trick of it was to submerge one’s conscious mind enough in the dream-sea to let it rest, and yet remain conscious enough to move fluidly through the events of the dream, while being able to wake if it were necessary.

  Right now, Annah was revisiting the brief encounter she and Holder had had in the woods before the Promising, enjoying the feeling of Holder’s hands and mouth exploring her body; awakening every nerve in her and tuning themlike the strings on that music maker he had called a ‘gitarr’-to the strains of a sweet melody. She felt her nipples hardening as he stroked her breasts; felt his fingers moving to caress her thighs, moving close to the still-folded petals of her blossom that lay between them. Why did I not let him take me, there in the woods? If they want to see me as an outcast, why not let them? She cried out in pleasure, despite her efforts to keep her restraint.

  He feels so good, she thought, but there was something else, something strange-Holder’s skin was always so warm against hers, and yet now, it felt cool, and-different somehowmore like mine. Relax, she told herself. Feel his hands on you; his lipsand she did, but it was all wrong, somehow, and the weight against her chest was crushing the breath from her lungs in a way she could never imagine Holder doing. At once, she brought herself awake, and the dark-gold eyes that shone at her were not Holder’s, as they had been in the dream-they were Jonan’s.

  He lay on top of her, his hand on one leg, forcing it aside, the other hand pinning her shoulder against the bed. He was both larger and stronger than she was, she knew. Getting away from him will not be easy. But I must try.

  Jonan smiled down at her. “Your dreams sounded so pleasant, Promised One. I could not resist joining you.” Annah pushed at his chest, then beat at it with her fists, pressing her body hard against his, trying to throw him off her—but he only laughed, a sound like the thud of fists against cold, dead meat.

  She kicked at him, aiming for the soft flesh between his legs, but, raising her knee, she met with something as hard and hot as sun-bleached bone. Her eyes widened. He will not put that in me, she thought, bringing her knee up hard into the soft seed-sac that dangled below the stiff pole of flesh.

  Good. The pain had thrown Jonan off his guard, and, mustering all her strength, she was able to push him off her for a moment. She shifted into a crouch on the bed, readied herself to leap at him, but in the next instant, he brought himself down on her back, knocking the breath out of her. First Ones, please hear me. Please, do not let him do this.

  * * *

  Annah. Holder sat bolt upright, nearly banging his head against the low ceiling in the ship. He scrambled into his jeans, yanked on his boots, and strapped on the gun he only rarely carried. Something tells me I might need it. Then, not thinking about anything but her scream in his head, he tore off through the forest. Annah, I hear you. And I’m coming.

  Her struggling with Jonan had caused Annah to fall from the bed, but as soon as she hit the floor, she pushed past the curtain and into the Temple’s main room. Jonan was right behind her, his hand reaching down to grab at her ankles; to pull her legs out from under her.

  There. She’s in there. Holder saw the dome of the Temple of Promise rising in the distance, and as he neared its threshold, he heard struggling inside. Don’t let him hurt her, he prayed-to whom, he wasn’t sure. Annah, I’m coming, beloved. Fight him.

  Jonan had her down on the floor again, on her back where he’d caught her off her guard and managed to make her fall. Her back felt bruised. Probably my whole body. She hit at him, again and again, but she could feel herself tiring. No. Can’t give up. First Ones, help me, she thought, willing her mind into the Shaper’s trance, hoping it would dim the pain and sharpen her thought. And in the next moment, she heard her mother’s voice. “The most delicate flower has thorns, to use at need. Remember the thorn, my Annah.” Remember the thorn. Annah let her fingers remember how to bring the blade-claws forth, and in a single motion, she raked them deeply across Jonan’s face, gouging one of his eyes, blinding him with blood, and splitting his skin on one side from cheek to lips.

  Jonan gave a groan of both surprise and pain, and pulled away from Annah, but as he did she had time to draw her claws across his throat. Not deep enough to kill, she realized, with an instinct that seemed barely her own. Not quickly, in any case. Before he fell completely away, she raked him across the chest, ploughing five bloody tracks she thought would finish the job the wound in his chest might not, on its own.

  Footsteps, thought Annah. Footsteps, coming up the path outside. Footfalls on the steps, running. First Ones, please. “Holder!” she cried when she saw him coming toward her. In the next instant, she felt a sharp bite of pain in her side, and another as Jonan’s knife plunged, then withdrew, and thrust again. The side of his face she’d struck with her claws was a mass of blood, and more of it poured from the gash in his neck down upon his chest, but like a dying serpent, he drew back, then lunged once more. This time, Annah fell to the ground as Jonan did.

  “Annah!” Holder drew his gun, made sure that Annah was out of the way, and then fired, catching Jonan in the head as he dragged himself toward where Annah lay. Jonan slumped to the ground and moved no more. Holder watched for a moment, making sure he didn’t get up again, but this time, it was over. Thank God, Holder thought, running to where Annah lay sprawled on her back. She wasn’t moving, butanother blessing, Holder thought-she was breathing.

  “They heard me, Holder,” Annah murmured, her eyes closed. “They heard me.”

  “Don’t talk,” he said. “Save your strength.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “The First Ones-they brought you to me, and now-they have brought you again, when I needed you most.” A frightened look came into her eyes. “Is he-is he-”

  “Dead. But we have to get you help.”

  “Holder!” Ardan took the last step into the Temple at a bound. “People in the fields said they heard fighting.” His eyes widened. “Annah-First Ones, what happened?” “No time,” Holder said.

  “Let me rest, dearest,” Annah said. “I can-slow the loss of blood, if I can rest.Ardan-”

  “I’m here,”Ardan answered.

  “Go to the grove and bring Mother and Father. They can help.”

  “Done,”Ardan said.

  “Holder,” Annah said, “stay with me. I want to feel your arms around me.” As he got up to go to Annah, Holder turned to ask Ardan to hurry, but he had already gone. Let them be quick, he thought. Let them be quick.

  * * * “I am not a Shaper,” Llew told Holder, as they stood on the porch just outside the Temple’s gate, “but she will heal.” Annah’s mother, Danae, was still inside, keeping watch over her daughter’s rest. Ardan was inside as well.

  “We have wronged you, Holder,” Llew said. “And we made a critical error of judgment where Jonan was concerned. Our daughter might be dead now, were it not for you. We are very grateful.”

  “Nothing-on any wo
rld-matters as much to me as Annah does,” Holder said. “I wish that knife had hit me instead.” “She would not wish for such a thing,” Llew said. “Neither should you. She will be whole again. And the animal who did this is dead. Holder, I suppose there is something you would like to ask of me.”

  Holder smiled. “In fact, there is. I know it’s not tradition, on this world, for a foreigner to-” “You may be an Offworlder,” Llew said, “but you are no longer a foreigner to me, or to Danae. You would have given your life for Annah’s. Therefore, if you still wish to be Promised to each other, when she is healed, it will be so.”

  “Thank you,” Holder said, barely believing what he had heard. “Thank you.” “However,” Llew added, “I do not forget tradition completely in this matter. She is still not of the Age of Choosing, and until she is, your union may not be ritualized. But in a little more than a cycle, Holder, you may belong to each other, in the sight of all.”

  * * * “It is wonderful news, dearest,” Annah said. “It is what I want. Even the waiting will be good, for I wish to continue my training as a Shaper. Whatever you may think,” she said, grinning at him, “I have still much to learn, both in singing and in more soil-rooted healing. And as I learn, perhaps there will be others.”

  “My Annah,” Holder said. “Healer, teacher, singer-lover.” He smiled. “What can’t you do?”

  “Many things, I am sure,” Annah said. “But we all must do that which we can, is it not so?” “I believe it is,” Holder said. Holder turned toward the sound of footfalls-two pairs, one heavier, one lighter, he was surprised to note-coming up the steps. Holder smiled as he caught sight of Ardan, and then his smile broadened into a grin as he saw the girl beside him.

  “Holder,Annah,” Ardan said, “This is Kyrin.” A person could lose himself in one of these ghost-suits, Goodman thought. He’d just about gotten more used to seeing Piscene’s eyes staring back at him from the mirror than his own. Wonder who would really notice if Kale Goodman just disappeared? As the weeks went by, and the situation on Earth slid closer in the direction of war, disappearing started to look better and better. But there was at least one more thing Piscene had to do first. Caminos wanted another meeting. And this looked to be the big one. We’ll find out, Piscene and I. In an hour.