by Laura R Cole
*
Katya found she had a lot of free time on her hands. Other than Gareth’s almost daily visits, she spent most of the day in solitude and silence. All she could do was wait for Gareth to report on the happenings outside. The realization that the baby the tribe had kidnapped belonged to Layna and Gryffon was terribly frustrating, but even the temper tantrum she had thrown in the cell after finding out had not caused any weaknesses in her prison. Instead, she tried to focus her thoughts elsewhere, seeing as how there was nothing she could do about that particular problem at present. At least the two visitors she’d conspired with Gareth to help rescue the baby had seemed to be successful. Gareth, of course, had not been given much information, but he reported a commotion in the chamber which housed her and they had heard of no arrests of the two. They figured that it could only mean that they were successful and the Elders didn’t want the tribe to know.
She spent her time in meditation. It was a practice she had gotten into while she was under the collar’s influence, finding even then that it had calmed her. Though the emotions of regret and remorse over the people she killed had been blocked from her conscious mind, it had not completely stopped her body from showing the underlying stress.
Now, she combined these sessions with lessons she had been taught by Gareth for retrieving her lost memories. Most ended in frustration, but many times she could at least picture the face of the little boy from the memory she had been able to uncover. It always left her with feelings of happiness. Though she couldn’t remember why, she knew that he had been the source of great contentment in her young years, and she longed to know who he was and find him again.
Katya took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She crossed her legs and laid her hands on her knees in a relaxed position. She focused on her breathing. She inhaled and imagined a glowing white light filling her from all the goodness in the world. She exhaled and pictured the dark places within her being swept away in the river of light, and expelled from her body in a rushing torrent of a cleansing tide.
She repeated this process until her mind reached a state of total relaxation. Then, she focused her attention farther inwards, trying to paint a picture of the young boy in her mind, searching inside herself for details to complete him. She started with his vague countenance from her brief memory and expanded it from there.
Something else tugged at her memory. The little boy disappeared and a vague form appeared. Its outline sharpened and the contrast became clearer. As Katya watched in her mind’s eye, the figure shaped itself into something that she recognized. A woman pouring water from a pitcher into a fountain below. But not a woman, the color was not right. She was made of stone. A statue. Katya’s mind clicked, the statue of Sheila Greyclaw that Lorcan had pointed out to her on the lower levels of the village.
What was this memory doing amongst her lost ones again? Perhaps she had let her attention wander and had floated back up to the surface memories. But this one had the arm intact. She peered closer at the image burning itself onto the backs of her closed eyelids. Another figure shimmered and appeared, a real woman, weeping into the fountain.
And a man, standing over her with a stern expression, his eyes hiding pain. He looked strangely familiar. He lifted a hand and pointed. Katya’s eyes followed, sweeping out over the vast forest. The view panned back to the scene before her where the woman was standing. She moved closer to Katya and seemed to tower overhead, holding her delicate hand out to her. A child’s hand appeared before her vision and Katya stared at it in surprise. Her hand.
She took her mother’s hand and together they walked into the forest. Katya’s gaze was drawn backwards several times, to see the man watching them grow farther and farther away, but every time she glanced up at her mother, the woman was staring resolutely ahead.
A sound outside her window brought her back to reality and she carefully unfolded herself from the meditation position to go stand next to the window. She greeted Gareth hurriedly, eager to tell him the news.
“Gareth,” she greeted the old man with excitement. “I made a breakthrough in my memories today!”
He was silent for a moment. “What kind of breakthrough?”
“I think that I may have actually been here as a child. Remember how I told you I knew about the fountain? I just remembered that my mother and I were here. I remembered my mother! I think maybe we were wandering around the forest and we happened upon this place, but I think we got turned away. Do you remember anyone like that?”
He did not answer right away. “No…” he began slowly. “Katya, I don’t think you visited the Myaamia…”
“But I remember it! It wasn’t just a memory from you, I could see my own hands!”
“…I think you’re from here.”
Katya stopped short. “What?”
“It would explain why you were so easily accepted as a member of the Dena’ina. The forest wards should have tagged you as an outsider, but they didn’t. No one can find the encampment without being led to it, and none but those born to the tribes can travel through without being flagged. And the ceremony in the Chamber on your arrival should have revealed you for an outsider. But once again it did not. That was one of the reasons it took me so long to figure out you weren’t really from the Dena’ina. I couldn’t figure out how you made it past all of the precautions. But they recognized you as one of the Forgotten, just not the Dena’ina.”
“How could I be one of the tribe? Why would my mother and I be sent out into the forest if we were from here?”
“You have the mark.”
Katya’s mind raced back to what he had told her of the tribe’s traditions. They exiled the children bearing the mark. “They threw me out?” she whispered, the pain worse than she would have imagined.
“They believe it is the only way to stop his evil from returning again,” Gareth answered in a pained voice. “I believed it. It is one of the reasons I no longer agree with what the Elders do. Their opinions had become clouded by hatred of the Dark King. I will never forgive myself for what I’ve done under this belief.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Katya assured him, guilt welling up in her at the pain in his voice. She felt badly for bringing up the subject. He probably felt as though he couldn’t do anything against the whole tribe. She was glad that he did not seem to agree with it; however, she couldn’t imagine throwing out a child simply because of a blood-line. The child couldn’t help its ancestry, and bearing the mark did not mean you would grow up to be like the Dark King. Layna was living proof of that.
“Gareth,” she asked him softly, “Do you know who my parents were?”
“Yes, I believe I do.” he whispered back.
“Who?” she prodded urgently.
His shadow flitted away before he answered, leaving her in silence once more. In silence and in frustration. So close to finding out who she really was…