Star Bridge (Chaterre Trilogy Book 1)

by Jeanne Foguth

  Some in the crowd, primarily male voices, whispered in favor of the Lost’s views on proper behavior for children. Females disagreed. As the conversation welled, she continued to stare-down the man.

  “Find your backbone,” Quark called, “and teach the filthy oaf a lesson.” Agreement boiled from the crowd.

  “Quarrel, teach them both how to respect others,” a gravely voice shouted. The Lost’s eyes narrowed on her forehead.

  “Quarrel -Quarrel -Quarrel.” More and more voices of the Lost joined the mantra.

  “She doesn’t have the Staff of Protection. Without it, she’s powerless,” an unknown voice called.

  Quark began to chant ‘Nimri’. Soon others joined his mantra. The voices got more raucous. Nimri knew she had to do something before her plan ended in a brawl.

  “Apologize to her for hitting her,” Nimri said.

  “I did not hit her!” Bits of putrid saliva showered the bridge of Nimri’s nose. “She’s faking pain.”

  “Is she?”

  “Children need to be taught respect,” Talon said.

  “You want him hitting your Fern?” Breeze asked.

  Nimri pretended a calm she didn’t feel and turned to GEA-4. “Stand up, child.” Sniffing and wiping her eyes on her sleeve, she obeyed. Nimri knelt in front of GEA-4 and gently ran her hands over GEA-4’s rock-hard body. She wondered if Guardians split like trees. “No bones are fractured.”

  Nimri stood up, and placed herself between GEA-4 and the Lost. “Would you have treated me so rudely?”

  “If you had shown me no respect?” A wave of foul breath washed over her. “Yes, I would.” He thrust out his chin.

  “You weren’t teaching her respect,” Nimri said. “You were teaching her to fear you.”

  “You want to take her place?” He gave her a lewd smile. “I’ll be glad to teach you. You might enjoy a spanking.”

  Most of the crowd gasped. A few men laughed.

  Nimri smiled, focused on her role and ignored the rancid-tobacco-laced halitosis. “Thank you for the kind offer. However, I think it would be more interesting for you to attempt to continue your instructions of the child.”

  The man blinked in surprise then gave her a wide smile. One of his yellowed teeth was broken. “Gladly.” He raised his hand and stepped forward. GEA-4 grabbed the back of Nimri’s tunic, shrieked and cringed in terror.

  Nimri held up her right palm. “Before you begin, I will give her a small amount of my power…I’m sure you won’t mind, Quarrel.”

  The man’s bravado faltered for a moment, but Nimri doubted if anyone else noticed. He gave a curt nod.

  Nimri turned, placed her hands on GEA-4, as GEA-4 had to her in mind-meld and silently begged the Guardians to help the plan work, then she stepped back and signaled for the man to carry on.

  Quarrel grabbed GEA-4, turned her over his knee, raised his hand a notch, then smiled as he let it descend on GEA-4’s posterior. The impact made a loud whack. He groaned, but GEA-4’s banshee wail drowned him out. He looked up and glared at Nimri as if to say, ‘You’re next.’ Then, his mouth flattened into a grim line, he looked back at squirming GEA-4 and he raised his hand, again.

  This time, as his blow descended, GEA-4 twisted and grabbed his wrist. The sickening sound of torn cartilage preceded the man’s airborne summersault.

  A woman snickered. Others gasped as the bully sailed several feet into the air. Quarrel landed hard on his back.

  After a long moment of silence, he lurched to his feet, his right forearm at an odd angle. He kicked her flower filled basket out of his way and charged at GEA-4.

  GEA-4 shivered with apparent fear. A look of triumph glistened in his eyes. A hand’s breadth before he grabbed her, she took a step to her right, moved her foot and tripped him. Quarrel landed flat on his face.

  A woman laughed. A man snorted. Others taunted Quarrel.

  He rose, covered with dust and fury.

  Still displaying cowardly actions, GEA-4 danced out of his way.

  He sidled close, raised his left fist and punched.

  Using his own weight and force, GEA-4 grabbed his arm and sent Quarrel in a high arc over the crowd. As the man sailed past the distant tree line, Nimri thought she saw Larwin and Kazza sitting on a bough.

  With a bone-jarring thud, Quarrel landed in Talon’s pigsty. He remained immobile in the deep mud.

  Several people stared slack jawed at him. Others gaped at GEA-4, who was retrieving her scattered flowers and putting the bruised petals in her basket.

  A goose honked.

  Water sloshed against the dock.

  Flies buzzed, but no one spoke.

  Nimri fought the urge to rush to the man and access his injuries. Everyone followed her lead, standing still as rocks until two men elbowed their way through the crowd, climbed over the woven-wood fence and knelt next to Quarrel.

  Hands folded in front of her, Nimri tried to appear unconcerned as she watched the tableau. Had her solution to avoid death actually caused one?

  “He’s alive, isn’t he?” GEA-4 asked. Nimri heaved a sigh of relief when she heard the previously arranged phrase, which told Nimri the man’s injuries were not life threatening.

  “Yes,” Nimri said. Relief tasted sweet. “He lost his wind. With no water in the way, it will return.” She hoped.

  Nimri cleared her throat and raised her voice even more as she addressed the redheaded Lost helping Quarrel. “Take him back to your shore. If he ever raises his hand to another child of the Chosen, I will give that child enough of my power to kill.” She swallowed and squared her shoulders. “Make sure he understands that.”

  The redhead scowled at her. “I thought your power was to heal.”

  “To heal and to protect.” Nimri looked at the river, then turned back to the man. “Cartwright supposedly has similar power. Since you’ll probably be taking your friend to him for healing, tell Cartwright I’m considering giving every member of my Tribe myst power. Tell him that if I do, bullies wouldn’t know until it is too late.” To her relief, her tone sounded confident.

  Once the three Lost were in their boat and the two conscious ones were rowing across the river, the people began to speak. Before anyone could ask her questions, Nimri grabbed Lily’s arm and shoved her toward her house.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Larwin turned off his viewer, walked the twenty steps back to the massive trunk, without noticing the height and leaned against the rough bark. He twirled some long green needles between his fingers as he digested the scene he’d just witnessed. How would a primitive culture grasp the ridiculous incident? And how could she avoid a fight with such a bold-faced lie?

  The strong scent of pine smelled like prosperity.

  Kazza looked at him expectantly.

  Gradually, understanding came. “I knew she was smart,” Larwin said in his native tongue. The big cat’s ears slanted forward. “I just didn’t realized how smart. If the other side doesn’t force the issue and is dumb enough to believe what they saw, her peaceful takeover might actually work.” Kazza’s tufted ears bobbed side to side as he batted at a shiny black beetle. “This knowledge would be worth a fortune to The Supreme High Commander.” Larwin felt light-headed at the possibilities. “Winning a war without loss of commodities or life. And base it all on one whopping lie. Brilliant. Simply brilliant to understand that the IQ of the commoner is so low that they’ll believe one person can have magic power and share it with others.” He shook his head at the locals' childish belief. “To think, a takeover without the cost of war for either armaments or loss of assets.”

  He whistled a soft, toneless tune, then climbed down from the limb.

  ~0~

  Though it was still morning, Flame was the fifth person to visit. Even when Rolf lay dying, they hadn’t had so much company. Nimri glanced at the counter, where the bribes lay bathed in rainbow rays from the window. Flame’s brimming basket of assorted loaves of bread dominated the other offerings. Shame over her lie
suffocated Nimri, like swamp-slime.

  Flame sighed contentedly, took a sip of tea, then leaned back in the woven-willow chair. “I expected you to be excited or at least relieved now that you’ve mastered your power.” She formed a triangle with her long, tapered fingers. “Instead, I sense increased anxiety.”

  Only her best friend could read her so clearly. Nimri held her breath, waiting to hear what excuse her best friend would give for wanting myst power bestowed upon her. She glanced at the rack of bacon Talon had offered in exchange for the power, the basket of eggs Breeze had given her, and the intricately woven basket the Mordoc twins had presented her. The back of Nimri’s neck heated with the memory of the lies she’d told each of them. The offerings lay, untouched. And now, Flame twirled a long lock of her fiery-toned hair around her finger, as she worked up to asking for power.

  Flame settled into the chair, the same way she always did when anticipating a long gossip. “Some are worried that the Lost will fear your power so much that they will stop coming to Market. They’d rather have barter than peace.” She rolled her gaze upward, as if to say, ‘Can you believe how they act?’

  “Are people ever satisfied?”

  Flame shrugged.

  “I wish I could have gauged Cartwright’s reaction.”

  “Do you think he even exists?” Flame absently played with her hair. She leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. “I don’t know anyone who has ever seen him, do you?”

  “What do you think?” Nimri couldn’t allow herself to be lulled into the illusion of normalcy.

  “So many speak of him that he must exist, but I can’t believe all the stories about him. I always thought that the tales of him living in rock and mating with Yetis were exaggerations, but…” Flame raised one of her shoulders in an exaggerated half-shrug.

  Nimri knew what her best friend meant. “The stories of Great-grandfather’s revenge are fantastic, but they are true.”

  Flame straightened abruptly, all casualness gone. “How can you know for certain?”

  Nimri tried to smile, instead her eyes blurred, at the memory of the view she would never forget. “I saw the evidence from the cliff near the balata grove. Imagine how bad it must have been, if I could see the difference between their land and ours after so many years.” How awful her grandfather’s rage must have been. How dreadful that he attacked everyone, instead of pinpointing the guilty.

  “I need to get home and make dinner.” Instead of moving, Flame sipped her tea.

  Now it was coming. Nimri braced herself for the plea and her throat swelled in anticipation of the lie she would be forced to tell about why she had chosen not to impart her power to others – yet.

  “What do you think about Tansy?” Flame asked.

  Nimri blinked. “She slept when I looked in on her, but looked healthy.” She frowned. Since Bryta hasn’t come home, maybe it really was something more serious than a casual glance could see. “I thought Lily was exaggerating and Bryta was staying away because Larwin made her nervous.”

  “Sometimes Lily does stretch a story, but not this time.” Flame picked up her mug and took a sip, as if needing fortification from the brew. “I go to see Tansy every day.” Her voice sounded as if her words were blocked. Flame swallowed. “I think she’s dying.”

  Panic rose like a swarm of flies. “But Larwin gave her the breath of life.”

  Flame looked out the window. Nimri followed her gaze and saw Kazza approaching, followed by Larwin. Flame blinked back tears and quickly said, “I think the river claimed her mind when she breathed it—your Larwin may have given her his myst, but it wasn’t strong enough to overcome the water’s hold.”

  The door swung open. Larwin and Kazza surged into the room. Suddenly, it didn’t seem like the room contained enough air for everyone.

  Flame scrambled to her feet, almost upsetting her chair. “I must get home. I’m late.” She dumped the bread from her basket onto the table and holding the handle in a death-grip, sidled toward the door. “I’ll bring more bread tomorrow.” Her voice receded.

  Larwin and Nimri looked at each other. Kazza looked at the heap of bread, then batted at the largest loaf of black bread. As it rolled off the table, he caught it in midair.

  Nimri glanced from Kazza to Larwin to the open door. Unwilling to tell Larwin the devastating news, Nimri grabbed her harvesting basket and scooted after Flame.

  Once in the garden, Nimri went to her lavender patch and gathered buds, then she collected rosemary. Slowly, the soothing scents worked their magic.

  Clearly, Larwin terrified Flame. Apparently while his breath could bring back life, it still wasn’t strong enough to counteract the river’s curse. But that, alone, didn’t make sense and didn’t explain why Flame hadn’t made the request that everyone else had.

  As Nimri’s fingertip traced a daisy-like bud, an even more horrible scenario gelled in her mind. What if Flame believed Tansy lay dying of an overdose of power? A chill washed over her as she looked for flaws in the second possibility and found none. It would explain why Flame hadn’t asked for myst power—it was the last thing she’d want if she thought it meant death.

  What if others adopted the view? What if the Lost learned of her tribe’s vulnerability?

  Her hand fisted. Tansy had to live. She felt like rushing down to the village and seeing the girl with her own eyes, but since she hadn’t been summoned, could not do so. Nimri stared at the oozing pulp in her palm and wondered if Larwin knew about Tansy’s inability to cope with his cure.

  As if responding to her thoughts, the kitchen door opened and Larwin, followed by Kazza came out. Each had a braided loaf and they appeared to enjoy each other’s company. They went to the ginkgo’s dappled shade, sprawled on the mossy grass and ate.

  Nimri had never felt so alone.

  Later, Larwin dug a hole in a vacant planting bed nearby. Kazza sat next to him and together, they studied every scoop of soil.

  Nimri, knowing she needed his assurance about Tansy, moved to a nearby clump of lavender and tried to bolster her courage with its heady aroma.

  The breeze shifted. Larwin sniffed and straightened. “That has odd smell. What for?”

  “The soul.” She plucked a sprig and held it toward him. “I’ll place it in bowls. A small amount of lavender will make an entire room smell of summer memories.” Lavender was a versatile herb. Its fragrance got varying responses depending on the person’s particular need. She hoped it could bolster Tansy’s ability to contain myst and would reduce the water’s claim.

  “Today feel cooler.”

  Nimri, grateful for the safe subject, nodded. “In two moon cycles we will have snow.”

  Larwin turned and looked at Sacred Mountain’s summit. “What happen to trail?”

  “The upper reaches become impassible.” As if they were ever truly adequate. Surely he knew that.

  “For how extensive?”

  Perhaps he hadn’t been awake for the past millennium or maybe he’d simply stayed inside the Star Bridge. “Some years it never melts.”

  “So, if I to leave, it must soon.”

  “Leave?” Her tone hit a high note. “I thought you’d stay with me. Make this your home.”

  “I stay long than sine qua non. May not able leave. May back. Hope soon.”

  Nimri tried to swallow but couldn’t. “I, I will miss you.”

  “Will you?” He gave her a searching look.

  She remembered that GEA-4 could see a person’s life force from thirty feet away, could hear sounds better than Kazza. Nimri tried to smile so he wouldn’t realize how much she’d been relying on him to somehow take Rolf’s place as Keeper of the Peace.

  She held a lavender leaf to her nose and inhaled deeply. “What was it like?” she asked. “Spending the last millennium in the mountain?” He frowned at her then shrugged away her question. She tried again, “You could stay here.” The lump in her throat nearly asphyxiated her.

  “I back. Bring invasion forces.” />
  He was returning with gifts. Her heart leaped, then she remembered what time meant to him. “When? In another thousand years when one of my descendants needs help?” Unshed tears stung her eyes. She blinked. “I thought you were here to become my cherished partner. That my children would be yours.” Seeing the shocked look register in his eyes, her face burned.

  Slowly, he smiled. “I back soon—you lifetime. I bring squadron medical analyzer. If pass medical, you couple me. Rule at side.”

  “Rule?” She frowned, wondering what he meant. Was a squa-run-med-ick-all-ann like a dowry? Had he just proposed?

  “I bring industrialists. Show ways commerce.” He gave a decisive nod.

  “You think these things are needed?”

  “For Guerreterre, yes.”

  She’d often heard him speak of grrrr-tear, but still hadn’t figured out if he was speaking about felines fighting over cantaloupe or it was someone’s name.

  He’d said he’d return in her lifetime. Nimri tried to focus on that and figured she’d eventually discover what all these wonderful gifts were.

  Larwin and GEA-4 departed at dawn the following day. Nimri stared at the spot where she’d lost sight of them long after the shadows deepened. As bees collected pollen and dawn scented the air with promise, she started picking dill and anise seeds to season mid-winter foods.

  Finally, she forced herself indoors, and laid the herbs on the kitchen counter. Instead of processing them, she stared out the window at Sacred Mountain. She watched the exposed granite so intently that she imagined she could see Larwin and GEA-4 on the trail. She didn’t notice Flame until her friend tiptoed up behind her and tickled her in the ribs.

  When Nimri jumped, a meow of delight came from under the table. Chair legs scraped the flagstone as Kazza emerged. His whiskers quivered as he sniffed the rich smell of pumpernickel.

  Flame chuckled as she placed the basket on the center of the table. Kazza sat, eyes shut, leaning closer to the heavenly lure with every passing moment. “Kazza, you’re forgetting your manners.” He straightened and half-opened one eye. “You forgot to greet me.” Flame smiled.