Annah and the Children of Evohe

by Clay Gilbert

  “Fear will do us no good,” Annah said. “Come down to the stream with me. We still have time before first-light, and whatever may be waiting for us, I do not plan to face it without my morning bath.” Mind still as the stars, she willed her thoughts. Whatever would be had already been set in motion. Fear would not make it stand aside.

  The walk to the Elder Grove from the campsite, which Annah had always thought of as short, seemed to have doubled in length as the three seed-maidens made their way there.

  “Annah,” Chelries said, “are you sure we should be doing this?” “Yes, Chelries.” Annah said, managing as much calm as she could. “It is what is right.” But, once she caught sight of what awaited them in the Elder Grove, it took all of the resolve she could muster to keep from turning and running back the way she had come. “I am worried, too, about what is coming,” she said, taking Chelries’ hand in one of hers, and Liara’s in the other.

  “But it is right.” I do not know if I am ready, she thought. But I have to face this, anyway. First Ones, help me. As she, Chelries, and Liara drew nearer to the clearing of the Elder Grove, Annah realized that the group awaiting them was much larger than merely the members of their Circle. There were an additional few young ones, and a number of Elders there-Annah saw her own parents there, as well as, among the others, a female whose kind face and emerald eyes were immediately familiar to Annah-Lilliane. Annah saw her old guardian smiling at her as the reached the grove, and, unable to wait, she ran to hug her, leaving Chelries and Liara watching in wonderment. “Lilliane,” Annah said, gesturing to the two younger seed-maidens, “these are my friends Chelries and Liara, from the Circle. Although,” she added with an embarrassed-looking smile, “you have probably already seen them.”

  Lilliane nodded. “Although my rest was deep, I still saw this world, as it moved beyond me. I paid special attention to you, dear one, and to Serra. I do know your friendsalthough it is good to see them so much more closely.”

  “What happened?” Annah asked Lilliane. “I did not think you would awaken again for some time. And what of these others?”

  Lilliane’s answering laughter sent contentment rushing through Annah like cold stream-water after a long walk on the day of Greatsun. “You happened,” Lilliane said. “The three of you. The Shaping that you accomplished together last night-it was an act of Tuning, and a powerful one, although—-Annah saw Lilliane cast a disapproving glance toward Serra-“although I know you have not been completely instructed in that discipline.”

  “I am sorry, Elder Lilliane,” Serra said, confirming Annah’s suspicion that Serra had once been Lilliane’s student, even as Annah had been Serra’s. “There was not time to-“

  “It is all right, child,” Lilliane said. “Annah, dear one, it seems that together, you and your friends managed a Tuning so powerful that—-well, it is why we are here. It called to us in our sleep; renewed our strength, and restored us to wakefulness. And it warned us, as such a working may do.”

  “Warned you of what?” Annah asked.

  “That we do not always choose the form Balance comes in,” Lilliane said.

  “How many of you were awakened?” asked Annah.

  “All of us.” The other young ones of the Circle drew close to Annah, Liara and Chelries. “Good work,” Keleth whispered to Annah, grinning.

  She met the comment with a mock-scowl. “Thank you, Keleth,” she replied.

  “We did not intend to wake you,” she told Lilliane.

  “What did I say, dear one,” Lilliane asked, “about choice and Balance?” “Oh, very well,” Annah said, happy that her friend and former guardian was awake again, even as she worried about what might still be coming. “Serra, will you take your place in the Circle’s center for us?”

  Serra shook her head. “No, Annah. Today, that place is for you.” Annah thought of an array of reasons to protest, then shoved all of them out of her mind at once, and took a deep breath. “Very well. Clear your thoughts, join hands, all of you, and we will try to remember what our world once was; what our people once were. For what is remembered, awakens, and lives again.”

  “And what if we do not want it to awaken?” Annah recognized Charan’s voice before he stepped out of the crowd. An instant later, his gleaming golden eyes, so like his sister’s, stared at her with a coldness that Annah knew she would never find in Chelries’ gaze. He has seen this moment, she knew, a cold wind of Vision whipping through her. He has been preparing for it, and he has prepared others. They gathered around him in a malignant mass; some of them seed-maidens and seed-youths, some of them older. Annah’s glance caught at least twenty or thirty of them—nearly as many as had been assembled for her Promising ceremony with Holder, and these were not here for a celebration.

  The other members of the Circle drew closer in around Annah. She could feel Chelries and Liara on either side of her, as they often stood during the group’s exercises or more formal workings—and their presence was a comfort, more than ever. She caught Serra’s violet gaze, like the embrace of new growth in the groves when First-fruit came. I am here, child. All will be well. Lilliane looked to Annah as well, a glance as quick as the thought in its wake: Dear one, you did not come here to turn and run back down the road.

  Annah looked at Charan. “I know that you do not understand me, or why I look as I do, or think as I do. You do not understand why I want to bring Shaping back into our world-why I think we need it.”

  “I do not care what you think we need. Our people are divided.” He gestured to the crowd behind him. Chelries stepped from the circle and walked toward her brother. “Perhaps you will care what I think we need,” she said in a voice nearly obscured by the rising clamor of the crowd. The look in Charan’s eyes showed that he had heard.

  There was a murmuring in the crowd behind Charan, and the sound of stirring, restless feet. “Sister, I do not have time for this. I-and these with me-we have seen in our Memories what Shaping did to our world. What it awoke in our people. And the price we paid for it.”

  Annah noticed Serra looking as though she might be about to intercede. No, she thought to the Elder Shaper who had been her teacher. He will listen to her. It may not stop this, but it will buy us time.

  “Brother, please listen,” Chelries said, her voice still quiet, but firm.

  “Very well,” Charan said. “But not for long.” “Our people are not divided because of Shaping,” Chelries said. “Our world might not be whole today if it had not been for the Shapers who helped restore it. They did not cause the Breaking to happen.”

  “Are you going to let this seed-maiden make you lose your will?” one of the older seed-youths in the crowd jeered. Charan glared at the tall, brown-eyed youth. “She is my sister, Noral. Whatever the freak and her little band here have poisoned her mind with, she is my family.” He turned back to Chelries. “These ways should be left alone,” he told her. “The First Ones abandoned us long ago because we tried to see more than what we should; because soil and tree and stone and stream were not enough.”

  Let me stop this, Annah, Serra said without speech. No, Annah said. You have done your part for our people. It is my turn now. Hands joined, minds joined, all of you, she thought to the others, stepping outside the Circle to join Chelries. “The First Ones did not abandon us,” Chelries was telling Charan as Annah reached her side.

  “Then why did they let the humans destroy our world? Why are our people so much less than we were?” “This world is whole again,” Annah said, paying no attention to the look of hate Charan regarded her with. “Physically, at least. And it has been that way for the span of your entire life, and mine.”

  “It does not matter. I remember. My Memories have shown me how the humans came to this world—-because of what they thought we could all do-because of Shaping.”

  “Memory, even the shared Memory of a whole race, like ours—-should not be the only way we judge history—or decide how to do things now. And Charan-Memory is a tool of Shaping; it is
a part of the Shaper’s craft. You cannot dismiss that craft, and rely on its techniques for your argument.” From somewhere behind her, Annah heard Tenar laugh. She wanted to tell him to be quiet, but she was glad, at the same time.

  “I can do anything I like, seed-maiden,” Charan said. “Our people have lived without Shaping for cycles upon cycles now, and-even if we have done little but keep to ourselves and live in quiet—at least our world has not suffered any further tragedies.”

  Charan stepped closer to Annah, but she did not move or lower her eyes. “None that you can see,” she said. “Or want to see.”

  “What are you talking about, freak?” “Look at us, Charan-all of us. We are divided, and not because of the humans, nor because of Shaping. She gestured to the members of the Circle. “We are all Shapers hereall of usand they are not. We are different, but we can help each other to belong. We are part of each other, too.” Chelries stepped up to them, grabbing her brother’s wrist in one hand and Annah’s in the other. All at once, Annah’s mind was swept with images she knew were Charan’s, and others she recognized as belonging to Chelries. She felt overwhelmed with the fear and anger from Charan’s mind, and yet she felt a rush of compassion for the confusion she knew he must be feeling. She had no more than an instant to imagine this, however, before she saw Charan’s arm rising to strike her, a silver blade shining in his hand. In another instant, she watched Chelries and Serra leap forward, seemingly as one, to block the blow-and then she saw both of them collapse. The blade clattered to the ground, glittering where it fell, like a gleam in a nightmare’s eye.

  Sounds of shock scattered through the crowd of spectators, and a number of them started for the woods. The violence of a moment before had diffused, Annah sensed, and she was glad. She knelt between Chelries and Serra, passing her hand over each of them in turn. Chelries had been struck by the blade; there was a good-sized gash along her side and another on her arm. She had fainted, whether from the shock or from loss of blood, Annah could not tell, but she could still feel the strength of her friend’s life-force pulsing in her veins. This was serious, but she could be healed. Serra, though—First Ones, Annah thought, she is not even breathing.

  Liara knelt down beside Annah. “What can I do?” she asked, looking at Chelries’ still form, watching her shallow breathing.

  “Cup your hand over the cut, there at her hip. Try not to let her feel your fear or worry. If you know any healing-verses, now would be the time.”

  Liara put out her hand, bowed her head and began whispering something to Chelries-Annah could understand about every second or third word, but she kept her own concentration of the strengthening heartbeat she could feel beneath her fingers, cupped over her friend’s heart. Annah bent close to Chelries’ ear, singing a soft strain of melody to her; a healing song she had heard in the Elder Grove when she was very young. First Ones, thank you-I think it’s working.

  “Is—is there something I can do?” It took Annah a moment to register the sound of Charan’s voice. She turned, sbout to snap at him in anger, but stopped when she saw his watering eyes and shaking hands. “We are doing what needs to be done,” she told him.

  “Please, Annah. I am sorry. If she dies, I will not forgive myself.” Annah nodded. “Use your Talent,” she told him. “Show her how much she means to you. Show her that your world would be empty without her in it.”

  Tears stung Annah’s eyes as she thought for a moment about how her own life would be affected if her friend did not survive. She closed her mind against Charan’s pictures; letting the seed-youth be alone with his wounded sibling.

  Annah motioned to Liara to come away. “It is all right,” she told the younger seed-maiden. “It is already done; she will be fine. And now the best thing for her is-is him.” “This is all his fault,” Liara spat. “It would be right for him to lose her. He tried to kill you.”

  Annah shook her head. “Anger and hate are not healed by more of their own nature. I do not know the true depth of his pain, although I have sensed its surface. But I know that I do not want to live without her, either.” Annah got up to go back to where Chelries was; to her surprise, she saw her friend sitting up and talking with Charan. Liara made no attempt to follow her.

  “I see that you are feeling better,” Annah said, sitting down beside Chelries, on the other side from Charan. Chelries hugged her, and while Annah could feel that the seedmaiden’s arms were weak, a wave of joy flashed through her nonetheless at the touch.

  “I am,” Chelries said, looking first at Annah and then at her brother. “I would probably have passed Beyond, were it not for the two of you. Charan,” Chelries said, “I want you to promise me that you will bearAnnah no more ill will.”

  “You do not need to ask me, sister,” Charan said. “I have been afraid of myself, more than Annah. And my anger toward her is done. She is the leader of this Circle now, and she will have my support. She saved you,” Charan said, looking past Chelries to Annah now for the first time since the crisis had passed. “For that, I would follow her anywhere.”

  “I do not know that that will be required, Charan,” Annah told him with a smile. “But please talk to the others who came with you. There is something I must do, and I do not want them to disrupt it.”

  Now that she knew Chelries would be all right,

  Annah allowed her thoughts to return to Serra. She knew this would happen, Annah thought. This may even be why she allowed herself to be reawakened, when I awakened Mother and Father. Is this what life is-a weaving of treeroots or stream-channels, feeding into one another and from one another until one day, it returns to Essei-Khai, the great Spirit-River the First Ones themselves drink from?

  Serra still clung to life, Annah saw, like a swimmer caught in a tide-current and unwilling to surrender. The wound was a bad one, and so much blood had been lost that it was, she knew, beyond even the reach of Healing.

  “Annah,” Serra said, her voice sounding as though it were measures and measures away. “Why are you still here?” Tears started in Annah’s eyes. “Where else would I be? I-I would heal you, if I could. Is there-is there something you know that might help?”

  Serra shook her head. “I have taught you all that I know. And I have done what I came back to do. Let me go, child. Let me rest.”

  “No! You are not going to your rest! You are going to your end!” Annah struggled to control herself; tried to find her still point. She put both her hands on Serra’s chest and did not draw them away even when they grew slick with blood from the still-seeping wound.

  Serra reached out and stroked Annah’s golden hair; brushed her tear-streaked cheek. “There are things that cannot be healed in this world, child. We all have our roads to travel, and mine is at an end here. Do not be angry; do not let sorrow become Shadow inside you. Do not mourn the things that cannot be healed. Look to the things that can. That is the Shaper’s way. Our ways have begun to return to this world; make sure that they survive. You are the Elder of this Circle, now, and now the burden is yours to carry, as it has been mine.”

  “But-what about Lilliane? What about Mergin? I know so little, compared to them.” “Lilliane has a good heart, and she has compassion for our people. But she has done her part as an Elder Shaper, and passed that strength to me, as I passed it to you in turn. Once it has passed, it does not return. Mergin is wise, and kind as well, as I am sure you know. But Annah-he could not do it, even if he tried. The Elder of a Circle is always a female.”

  Annah drew herself up straight, brushed the golden tangles away from her face, and dried her eyes. “I will do my best, Serra.”

  “You always have. And now I have a word of comfort for you. Your mate, Holder, lives. I have seen him, in Vision, which sometimes grows stronger as one draws nearer to the shores of the Spirit-River.”

  “I know he is alive,” Annah said, excitement rising in her voice. “But where is he?”

  “He is in the place the humans call Holdfast-trapped in the skin and mind of anothe
r man.”

  “I have seen that place in Vision. If he is there, I will find him.” “You must be careful, Annah. You have responsibilities; people here who need you—-and I will not be here to help you do what must be done.”

  “I know, Serra. But he needs me, and I need him. And once I do—we will not forget. We will make sure that the Shaper’s art does not pass from this world, or from the Sea of Stars.”

  Serra smiled. “That is enough for me, child. And it is time for me to go. May the First Ones bless you, Annah. Remember me.”

  Annah’s tears threatened to return. It is the Way, she reminded herself. “I will not forget you. Everywhere our Circle meets; in every Grove and gathering, you will be present, and welcome. I wish-I wish this did not have to be.”

  “There are other roads,” Serra managed, her voice fainter now than the rustling of leaves in the Grove when the winds of Evenfall blew. “We will meet upon them one day. And on that day, I will not call you child, but sister. Goodbye, Annah.”

  Annah sat by Serra’s lifeless body for what seemed more like whole measures than the moments they likely were. The touch of two gentle hands on either of her shoulders brought her back to awareness. Chelries already looked much stronger than she had only a short time earlier, and the compassion in her eyes and in Liara’s was a comfort. “Where are the rest of them?” Annah asked Chelries.

  “They are with Charan. They have been trying to convincethe others-that they are wrong to distrust Shaping; that its return is something to welcome, not fear. He showed them, in Vision, what our world once was, and could be again, if our people would only allow it.”

  “Did they listen?” “I do not know,” Chelries said. “I hope so. They seemedgreatly confused, both from what they said, and from what I could sense about them. And sometimes confusion allows the mind to be changed. I only hope that it will change in a helpful way.”