Lillith

by Carol Buhler

  I shuddered and pressed against Lillyon. "Enough, Tallyon."

  "No. I'm sorry. There's more!" Eyes glowing purple, Tallyon continued projecting. "All our beautiful trees, so gorgeous from the air, used to be kept trimmed to provide good paths. Look at them now." I groaned as I watched a pair of don dodging around overgrown bushes and pushing their way through tall grass, knocking ground-skimming branches out of their way as they made their way to a rusted gate.

  "Why don't they do something?"

  Tallyon swung his gaze back and forth between us. "Taldon wonders if you...if Joedon...realizes that seventeen don families have died out in the past twenty-five years—every member gone?" I threw my head back in shock. Tallyon only continued, "There aren’t enough don left to maintain their lifestyle, let alone ours. A few families try to keep up with the tree and grass trimming in the public areas, but it’s a struggle. Other services are even further behind. Only four plumbers and one electrician, and since Regdon died, no one understands rebuilding walls."

  He paused as if to savor my obvious dismay. "But the worst is that no don will stir himself enough to learn a new trade, a new skill, or to do the labor even if someone could direct them in what to do."

  Starting another projection, he said, "This is what happened at the last council meeting." I saw the Speaker's Council hall, obviously through Taldon’s eyes as Tallyon would not have been inside. Surrounded by gray granite walls, the stone floor rose in three broad tiers dotted with eighty speaker desks in a semi-circle around a central podium. Colored banners draped behind all desks, but I counted only thirty-seven Speakers present.

  "Where was everyone?"

  "That’s another problem. They don't care enough to come," Tallyon replied. "Here's another."

  An older, stocky don, striking in gray suit with black piping, hair matching the suit, took the speaker’s podium. “This don’s electrical wiring has gone bad,” Tallyon explained. “He's cooking and heating with a wood fire and he’s asked for assistance at every council meeting for the last five years." Tallyon shifted his focus to another old don sitting slumped in dejection at the side of the hall. "That one’s walls are crumbling and he's been trying to get help just as long."

  Even third hand I felt the old Speaker's passion as he ranted from the podium. "Wake up my friends!" He beat his fist on the podium between shouted phrases, his scarred face flushed with rage. "Do you walk around Center blind? It's not just our homes! Center’s dying around you and all you do is moan that there's not enough whatever to make repairs."

  Tallyon panned around the great room. Heads turned away from the old don, faces stared at desks; no one responded. "All of your homes are just as old and we aren't the only ones who need help. Properties right here in Center are falling into ruin. Don't you see them? Or are you just so busy with whatever you do that you don't notice?"

  He stabbed a crooked index finger. "You, Hindon! You're still having problems with your plumbing, aren't you? How many times a week do you have to unstop your drains?" Tallyon showed us a don’s head dropping in shame.

  The finger flew to another. "Aradon! How about that leak in your sunroom? Or have you just stopped using it?" One after another, the angry accuser singled out Speakers, detailing problems in their homes.

  Still no one reacted and the old don slumped, dropping to an intense whisper. "We have to do something different." He made his way to his desk in a silence that seemed far too loud.

  I moaned. "What's the matter with them? Why are they like that?"

  Tallyon shrugged massive shoulders. "I don't know. Taldon thinks they've given up. And, unfortunately, there's more bad news. Only eleven children have been born in the last twenty-five years. Also, many of the older don struggle to provide themselves enough to eat, let alone provide for their reeth families." His voice dropped and his stare intensified, glowing angry red. "Rumor says Joedon will abdicate his position to Saradon’s baby, assuming she can even have one. Taldon and I don’t think the don community will survive the wait for such a child to grow sufficiently to lead."

  He broke from his position against the wall to stalk stiff-legged around the room. His effort to quell his anger overwhelmed me as my own apprehension intensified. I turned away to allow Tallyon privacy to regain his customary aplomb. In Lillyon’s mind, I encountered the same unease I was suppressing.

  Tallyon’s voice brought me back around to face him. He stood in the doorway to the salon having pulled himself together to stand straight and bold, his eyes now calmly green. "Taldon is attempting to get Joedon to see reason and end his withdrawal. The Speakers need their hereditary leader to step forward and lead boldly, or they may collapse altogether."

  "It’s what I dreamed of," I whispered. "We can’t let it happen."

  "You have to get Joedon to change his mind, to change the direction the don are slipping. Taldon and I are ready to help." His conviction battered my senses. "You’re the only one who can affect him, get him to step forward."

  Later, we stood on the ledge, watching Tallyon and his mind-mate disappear over the rugged mountains. Joedon, standing at my side with his hand resting on my withers, had his mind carefully shielded. I decided not to pry at that moment, giving myself time to come up with a plan.

  "It was good to see Tallyon again." I kept my voice neutral as we turned to walk back into the cavern. "I don’t remember ever having met Taldon before. He’s a pleasant fellow, isn’t he?"

  Joedon shrugged. "I’ve always liked him." He stopped at the entrance to his quarters; I halted at his side while Lillyon continued on into the arena. "Even though he was always on the other side of any debate from Father, he was one we considered exceptionally honest." Joedon looked back toward the front of the cavern, his face pensive. "He looked tired."

  "I thought so too." I nudged him slightly toward my side of the home. "Join us for lunch?"

  "Taldon caught me right in the middle of an experiment. I need to get back to it." He started down his hallway. "I’ll be there for dinner."

  Sighing, I watched him go. One thing Tallyon had brought home to me, even if that hadn’t been his goal, was that Joedon and I had grown apart. Even living in the same home, speaking nearly every day, we were not as close as we had been, sharing every thought, every experience. We’d laughed and cried together. Not anymore.

  How had that happened? Casting my mind back through the memories, I focused on the period just after his parents' death. Exhausted after the birth of my twins, born shortly before that fatal day, maybe I hadn't noticed how terribly he hurt.

  Turning toward my bedroom, I walked through the huge rooms, barely noticing the others at their various tasks. I comforted him; everyone did.

  Another side of my consciousness countered: you were overwhelmed for the next year, keeping track of the newborns, developing rapidly and dangerously active here in the cavern where they could fall to their deaths during a moment’s inattention.

  Was that why he lost interest in leading, in living? I wasn't there when he needed me the most?

  Standing over the straw bedding, I stared blindly at a wall, my thoughts going over the last several years. The twins, mostly on their own now, preferred the more hectic life at the Lill compound. I chatted with them daily, sharing proudly in their achievements during training. The older ones lived here in Eyrie with their families, a daily pleasure. But I don't spend so much time with them that I ignore Joedon.

  My mind went blank, my heart felt cold. It's more like he ignores me.

  Chapter 11

  ~Lillith

  A gentle touch on my shoulder brought my awareness to Lillyon, standing close. Resting my forehead on his, I whispered, "I don’t know what to think. Tallyon’s news is distressing. But what can I do?"

  Lillyon wrapped his long neck around mine and matched my quiet voice. "Joedon must not have been receptive to Taldon’s arguments."

  "I don’t know. He’s locked up tighter than a barrel of oats in the play room. I didn’t ask him
what Taldon said." Reeth couldn’t cry. I wished I could. Crying seemed to sooth femm during times of stress. Slumping against Lillyon, I savored the length of him supporting me. "I just realized how estranged Joedon and I have become. We never used to lock our thoughts away from each other. What should I do?"

  Lillyon’s words, soft but firm, provided a brace for me to lean on. "Confront him. Open the subject. Find out what he’s thinking. Dig, if you have to. Then decide. These muddled feelings stem from a lack of understanding which you have to correct before doing anything else."

  Pulling myself upright, I squared my shoulders and clamped my wings hard to my side, settled with calm resolve. "You’re right. Apathy is for the don. I must force the issue."

  I walked quietly down the corridor leading to Joedon’s part of the home; the doors opened automatically via electronics he’d stolen from humans and installed years ago. Stepping into the living area, purposefully arranged to accommodate reeth, I glanced around. Nothing had changed since the last time I’d been here; shocked, I realized that had been almost a year ago. Joedon always came out to join the rest of us for a meal; I rarely invaded his sanctuary anymore. When did I begin to feel unwelcome here?

  I shook my head. No, that’s not right. He’s never made me feel unwelcome. I slumped with shame. I stopped coming.

  Wandering further into the room, I studied the familiar furnishings. The hand-made leather couch and chair, a present from Joedon’s parents, were placed precisely along the edges of the colorful woven rug. The painting of the sun glinting off the Joe mansion’s white marble façade with the green spread of Center valley in the background had been gifted by Saradon’s family. And the Lill family had given us each several woven hangings, in a variety of grass greens and tans. Those on Joedon’s walls had been specially crafted for him by the artisans of Warren.

  All of this reminds him of the days before their deaths. Maybe I should prompt him to redecorate.

  I shrugged and sent out a thought, lightly touching Joedon’s mind. He was in his workshop again. "Joedon. I’m here in your living room. Would you please come out to talk." I hadn’t been in the workroom for years, pretty sure there wouldn’t be room for me.

  He sounded surprised. "Give me a second. I’ll just cover this container and be right out."

  Barefoot, he padded into the room, shirt draped negligently over one shoulder, pants hanging off slim hips. He crossed the beautiful rug and laid his head against my forehead.

  Rubbing my head against his, I asked, "Do you never sleep?"

  "I do of course. Just never enough." He twisted away and flung himself into the leather chair. "What’s up?" He peered up at me from under his shaggy hair and his voice dropped. "I suppose you want to know what Taldon wanted."

  "Tallyon filled me in with much the same words, I expect." I gazed at him, forcing calmness into my mind and words. "What are your thoughts on the problems with the Speaker's Council?"

  "They don’t affect me." He draped a leg over the arm of the chair and leaned back; his posture echoed the indifference in his mind.

  I couldn't help it. I exploded. "You don’t care that they’re making a mess of everything?"

  He shrugged, refusing to react to my tone. "Not particularly. Why should I care about their crumbling homes, their plumbing problems, their stupid attitudes?"

  I took several steps around the room in agitation, then swung back to glare at him. "Did he explain about families dying out? Did he tell you about how few babies are being born?"

  "Of course he did. I can’t do anything about either of those problems." He shifted in his chair, turning partially away from me so I couldn’t see his face. "With Saradon marrying Raedon, I don’t even have an option left to me to develop a family—to try for a child."

  That brought me to a standstill. "Has that upset you more than I thought?" I hadn't sensed any animosity.

  He shifted again, responded to the worry in my voice, and shook his head. "Not really. I would not have wanted to be married to Saradon. We’re too much alike to get along on a full time basis." Rising, he walked across the room to stop and stare at the painting of his mansion. "The Joe family will just have to die out. I’m the end of the line."

  "There are other femm!" I wheedled.

  "No, Lillith, there are not. According to Taldon there are four, ranging from four years old to twenty." Spinning to face me, he raised his eyebrows and said, sardonically, "Do you want me to rob the cradle? Or wait another fifteen years for the oldest to be old enough to marry?" He scowled. "I don’t think so."

  He started to meander around the room, touching the back of the couch, the chair, ran his fingers along one of the hangings. "Besides, I don’t really want to share what I have here. A fym would want me to pay attention to her, would interrupt my studies. I’d never get anything done."

  I followed him with my head. My voice rose despite my efforts to remain calm. "What about your training? Your heritage? You were born to lead. Not to hide in your room and let our world go to Hayds!"

  The tone brought him striding toward me, body stiff with anger, eyes sparking. "I don’t want that life. They’re stupid. They’re selfish. They want too much of me and I’m not going to destroy myself for them like Father did. They can crash on their own demands before I step forward to save them!" He stood before me, seething with antagonism against his fellow Speakers, but I felt, hiding deep within him behind a mental block I wasn't sure he was aware of, a miasma of fear, loneliness, and despair.

  I backed away, stifled my own irritation, and dipped my head. "Okay Joedon. I’m sorry. I want you to be happy and I don't think you are."

  He caught a sob and threw his arms around my neck, burying his face in my hair. "I’m sorry too, Lillith. I’ve been a jerk." Pulling his head back, he forced a smile. "I’ll make a real effort to come out more and be with the family. You’re right. I’m alone too much."

  Chapter 12

  ~Joedon

  True to my promise to Lillith, I joined the rest of the family for each meal. I began to sleep better, eat better, and felt an old natural spark coming back. Lillith and I spent every morning together, either flying around valleys to check on crops farmed by don in our employ or watching the young reeth practice in the arena under Lillyon’s watchful eye. For years, he'd trained the younger foals of reeth families, helping them develop leg and shoulder muscles, supervising flying lessons, before passing them on for advanced training elsewhere. I'd always loved seeing them grow, gain their confidence, and develop their athleticism. Why had I stopped watching?

  I'd let my pain and fury over the council's ignorance and Father's death push me away from the life I’d loved.

  In the old days, I never knew how many colts and fillies might live within our walls. Mealtimes were always chaotic as new ones joined the herd and older ones graduated to return to their families. The noise, the bustle, the shrieks as they raced and the thuds as they fought had made me happy.

  I'm the one who pulled away. This had all been continuing around my withdrawal and I was glad to be back into it.

  Obviously, Lillith was working hard at re-establishing our earlier closeness, asking my opinions, searching my feelings, and sharing her own as fully as possible. I pushed myself to help her and each day I felt better. I'd been so lonely—for no good reason!

  Still, I knew she fretted about the don as a civilization, about what would happen to the reeth if don died out. It would only take a couple of generations before there were no mind-melds for her grandchildren, her great-grandchildren. But I couldn't help her there. Picturing the selfish old fools that made up the Speakers' Council, I swore they would never exercise any sort of control over me!

  ~Lillith

  Joedon and I were gradually regaining our intimacy and I was content until I heard from a distraught Sissith, Saradon's mind-mate. She begged me to meet with them away from Eyrie. Suppressing my concern with reminders of the filly's youth and lack of experience, I set up a meeting for the next
day at a nearby aspen grove.

  As I rolled onto my back, away from Lillyon on our straw bed, and scratched my spine vigorously against the floor, he whined, "Do I have to go with?"

  Heaving myself upright, I shook, scattering straw over his still resting body. "No, dear." I plunged into the bathing pool and rolled again, sending wavelets lapping over the sides. "This sounds like a mare meeting. No yon allowed."

  After a quick breakfast of oats and rye grass, I flew over the low range to the east and landed near the spreading grove in the next valley. No one occupied or farmed the narrow basin so it was always quiet. Small shimmering oval leaves, light green on one side and silvery on the other, shifted constantly in the breeze, source of the name, Quaking Aspen Vale. I loved the constant motion and murmuring of the branches which provided me with a serenity I rarely found elsewhere. I drew in a deep breath and sighed, savoring the pungent smell of grass, the faint scent of multiple splotches of wild flowers, and the soft moist air from the nearby stream. It worked its magic and my worry slipped away. I should come here more often.

  I froze as a pair of small, furry animals made their way to the stream for water. About the size of a newborn foal without the long legs, the pair had long noses, tiny ears, and small bright eyes ringed in black. Absolutely no danger. Although I sensed they were carnivores, their size meant I had no reason to fear. Their presence, even with ears continually twitching, pleased me and I sent soft welcoming thoughts their way. Before long, they scurried away, leaving me feeling a touch lonely.