by Linda Palmer
****
The low rumble of thunder woke me sometime later. Rocc's fire, now little more than glowing ashes, did nothing to illuminate my surroundings, so it took me a second to remember where I was.
So much had happened on Saturday and in so short a time. But I caught up to reality in a flash and turned to Rocc, quickly noting his ghostly white skin and then trying to find his pulse, so weak I had to lay my head on his chest to make sure his heart still beat. It did. Barely.
With a strangled sob of relief, I turned to inspect the camp. I saw that the younger poPs still slept under the cover of bagowan leaves, while the teens snoozed nearer their fire, which burned fairly well. There was no sign of Jor, and I couldn't sense him either.
So that’s it, I decided, sitting back on my heels and picking up a stick to poke into my brother's fire to get it going again. Jor had betrayed Rocc, just as he'd betrayed me. But why? What possible motive could Jor have for taking my memories, sending me to Nodyra, and then befriending Rocc for eleven years?
Was he in cahoots with the Dagonel, maybe? Had they promised him riches or power? Sairons, for all their superior skills and carefree ways, were a proud bunch. I wondered if they had a secret agenda—a plan, perhaps—to join the Dagonel in ridding Balmythra of Ionians and all other groups. Why they would do this, I couldn’t begin to imagine.
The fire revived a little. Someone behind me coughed. Peeking back, I spotted Matt seated on the damp ground, leaning against another bagowan tree. He seemed so exhausted that I wondered if he’d slept at all. Quietly, I rose and walked over to him. He gave me a half grin.
"You didn’t rest, did you?"
He shrugged. "Someone had to keep an eye on things."
"Oh, Matt." Regret washed over me. I should’ve been the one on watch, not Matt. I was Guardian, after all.
"Don’t look so guilty. I’m sure I dozed off more than once, but I’m thinking that they—" he pointed to the unicorns, now standing one on each side of the camp "—took up the slack."
Heaving a sigh, I sat beside Matt and began to pick at the damp grass. "What time is it?"
"Six a.m. earth time, which makes it three a.m. here. If we were where we should be, we'd be catching some extra Zs before we got ready for church."
"Yeah." I thought about Pringle's and how we'd left it. "Do you think Skye and Raine were possessed?"
"I don't know them all that well," Matt said. "But possession? Really? I mean, that's pretty out there…"
I acknowledged his doubts with a nod, my erratic thoughts already bouncing to something else. "I don’t think Jor’s coming back."
"Then we’ll do fine without him." Matt reset the time on his digital watch with some pushes of a tiny button. I heard a soft bleep.
"But Rocc needs help."
"Then let's find him some. There has to be a town around here someplace. Ask him." Matt inclined his head toward Gariel and then froze, wide eyed and obviously stunned.
"Huh?" I turned to follow his gaze. Incredibly, I saw a shadowy figure approaching the camp from several yards away. Jor. But why hadn't I sensed him? Had he deliberately locked me out of his head? "What's he up to...?" I leapt to my feet, or tried to. Matt’s firm grip on my arm stopped me.
"What’s that?" He pointed to a heavy fog that glowed eerily blue in the intense dark and seemed to be following the Sairon.
In silence we watched while the fog changed shape in the air like a living entity, one moment cloud-like, the next, a vertical wall of moisture. Jor, now mere feet from us, paused, but the fog swooped ahead and settled over Rocc, an iridescent mist now so dense that it hid him completely from view.
Gasping, I jumped up and took a protective step toward my brother. Jor stopped me without words. I saw anger in his eyes, and wondered if he’d picked up on my earlier doubts about his loyalty. Well, let him fume, I thought. I didn't trust him, and it didn’t hurt for him to know.
Minutes that seemed like hours passed. I heard the rustles and whispers that meant the teen poPs were waking, but I didn’t shift my gaze from Rocc. Finally the mist began to change in character, looking first like a fluffy gray raincloud, then growing dense and taking human shape—female human shape.
Since this was my first experience with what must be the Sunsanean, I stared as openly as everyone else as the healer’s features clarified in the light given off by the campfires. In seconds a young girl with skin as pale as cream and aqua waist-length hair stood before us. She wore sandals and a light yellow tunic, typical clothing for Balmythra. But there was nothing typical about her.
"This is Tirafalen," said Jor. "She came to heal Rocc."
"You must be Alleana." Tirafalen looked straight at me with enormous pale gray eyes. "Your brother will wake soon. When that happens, we’ll need to get him to Saironalis as quickly as possible. He's very ill."
"All right." I stepped around Tirafalen and knelt over Rocc, whose skin had regained some of its golden tan hue. For the first time in many hours, I felt almost lighthearted. Something was finally going right.
Jor touched my shoulder. "We really need to talk."
I agreed, though I hated to leave Rocc. "But first I need to check on the kids."
Jor frowned his impatience. "Can't one of the older ones do it?"
I automatically searched for Matt, but found him in earnest conversation with Tirafalen. I made a quick decision of my own. "John, will you check the little ones? I don't want them to wake up scared."
I got his nod for an answer and turned back to Jor. He turned to the east as if hoping dawn wasn't many hours away. Then he caught my eye and motioned me over to a spot a few yards off.
"What took you two so long?" I asked him the second I felt sure no one could overhear the conversation.
"Tirafalen's physical makeup prohibits her psiflying, so that slowed us down. But there was something else, too." Jor stared at nothing for a moment, his fingertips stuffed into the front pockets of his Nodyran jeans, before sighing and meeting my questioning gaze head on. "For some time, Tirafalen has been keeping an eye on Vannarius for Rocc and me. You probably saw her yesterday...?"
I thought of the mist shrouding that city when we peered down on it from the mountains. "The Dagonel can’t sense her?"
"No."
I nodded for Jor to continue even as I braced myself for any bad news he might share.
"Last night, the enemy attacked Winviral."
"Oh no." Winviral was an Ionian spiritual center, a very, very sacred place between Vannarius and Saironalis.
"One-hundred-fourteen Ionians are missing. As many, badly injured, were left for dead. Tirafalen worked all night to help them. I had to wait. She was pretty torn up about not leaving sooner to get to Rocc, but she's a healer and just couldn't leave until she'd done what she could for those left."
"Oh, Jor." I felt a blush of shame for my impatience and guilt that I hadn’t saved my people. But how could I save them if I didn’t have a clue what to do?
He shifted his gaze from me. "I’m sure the Dagonel have taken the missing Ionians prisoner. As soon as I get you and those children to Saironalis, I’m going to Vannarius to try to find out where they're being held."
"I’ll go, too."
"Alleana." Turning, I found Tirafalen motioning me over. I realized that Rocc had sat up and was now surrounded by several of the poPs. I ran back to my brother and threw my arms around him.
"Hey, now." He sounded so weak. "I’m okay." He actually patted my arm.
Tears ran down my face unchecked as I released him and knelt very close. "I thought you were going to die."
"Tir wouldn’t let that happen, would you?" The look he exchanged with Tirafalen revealed strong affection, if not more. I wondered briefly how long the two of them had known each other.
"Did he just call that girl 'dear'?" Ashley's loud whisper came from somewhere behind me.
"Tear," John corrected her.
Tirafalen caught my eye. "We really should leave now
since Rocc can't psifly."
"Why not?" With Jor's help, I could easily transport him just as we'd transported Matt.
Tirafalen smiled and explained. "He and I are sharing energy at the moment."
"Oh. Of course." I felt a mental nudge and peered over my shoulder at Gariel, who tossed his head and whinnied. "Then he'd better ride." I nodded toward the stately unicorn even as I mentally thanked him.
Tirafalen’s eyes, now palest gray in color, widened in surprise, but she didn’t comment. Rocc, however, wasn’t so sure. "Remember Menos? He tried to ride a unicorn once and still walks with a limp."
"It’s okay," I said. "In fact, it was Gariel’s idea. Honest."
Jor helped my brother to his feet. Matt assisted too, and since Gariel bowed low to accommodate an easy mount, Rocc soon sat astride the unicorn, his bedspread wrapped around him like a cloak. With Tirafalen gliding just ahead, a shimmering guide-cloud in the night, Gariel set off at once toward the west, where Saironalis lay.
Jor followed them, but Matt and I waited until all the poPs were up and moving. Then we brought up the rear of the troop. Since storm clouds hid the moon, we had to step with care on the rocky mud road.
"Tirafalen is way cool," said Matt. "She fixed my eye." He pointed to his face where the black bruise used to be.
I could barely see him in the dark. "That's great."
"Yeah. She's from an island called Malikoa in a world called Callisto, which, I’m thinking, could be the white in our earthly egg. She’s nineteen, just like Rocc, and apparently they’ve been friends since they were eleven."
"Really." For some reason, his enthusiasm annoyed the heck out of me.
"Yeah. She stays in human form unless she needs to eat or heal someone, then she becomes that mist. Have you noticed her mood eyes?"
"Her what?"
"Mood eyes. They change color just like that." He snapped his fingers. "Tirafalen told me the Dagonel think she’s some kind of natural phenomenon, so she can go just about anywhere she likes. Guess that makes her pretty phenomenal, huh?"
"Phenomenal." Though grateful for Tirafalen’s help healing Rocc, I didn’t feel the need to worship her or anything.
Matt didn’t seem to notice my lack of enthusiasm. "What were you and Jor whispering about?"
I shared the conversation and my distrust. "He’s planning on trying to find out where the Dagonel are keeping the prisoners. I’m going with him."
Matt flicked a sideways glance my way. "That sounds dangerous. Shouldn’t you be sitting on a throne somewhere, safe and sound, ruling your people?"
"That isn’t funny, Matt."
"Wasn’t meant to be. You know your brother risked his life to get you back. That tells me it’s pretty important for you use your head."
I glared at him and didn’t say another word.
"What the heck? Do you have angels here?"
At Matt’s soft question, I saw an ethereal glow. It took a few seconds for me to realize what it was. "They're just Sairons."
"But they're lit up."
I could hear the other poPs whispering furiously. I knew I had to explain. "Sairons radiate light as they age. It's perfectly normal for them."
Apparently a whole group had come from Saironalis to meet us. I guessed Jor had summoned them. Since Gariel, Jor, and Tirafalen were now waiting for the poPs to catch up, I hurried the others along. The glow-in-the-dark Sairons really made the walk easier, so they didn’t fall behind again.
"Hey, Jor." Matt tapped the Sairon’s shoulder. "How come you don’t shine?"
Apparently Jor didn't like the question. "I'm not that old."
Matt dropped back a little. "Who spit on his wani nut?"
"Been wondering that, myself." I noticed that one of the Sairons I didn’t recognize had moved closer to Jor and now spoke softly to him. I quickened my step, taking care not to be obvious, but determined to hear what was being said.
"You've been exposed to the Dagonel for some time now, Jor." The elder Sairon's face remained solemn. "We know that you have much to do, but you can’t put off the cleansing any longer."
I knew that feeling and wished for a hot bath, myself. A brush with the Dagonel definitely left behind a residual yuckiness.
"But I need to go to Winviral," Jor said.
"No. A group of Ionians and Sairons are already tending to that."
I felt guilty relief that I wouldn't have to go when there was so much to be done right here.