Khon’Tor slowed his breathing. For one of the first times in his life, he did not know what to say.
“Despite what you did to her. Despite the years you made her life as hard as possible. Despite her humiliation over everyone thinking she had failed in her calling as a Healer. And even though you let Acaraho take the fall for your doing. Despite all that, she spared your life,” Nootau said.
He continued, “And I imagine that the only reason my real father, Acaraho, did not kill you for what you did was that my mother made him promise not to. So she served you doubly.”
“Everything you have said is true. Your mother had no fault in any of this. She has treated me with far greater mercy than I ever deserved. You have every right to hate me.”
“Do you not want to know how I know all this?” Nootau stared at Khon’Tor as he spoke. “No, my mother did not tell me, though I am sure she wanted to, for many reasons. But instead, she protected you for the sake of the community. For all the communities, because for them to know what you did would have torn our people apart. She wanted me never to know, I am sure, for fear I would think I carried your corruption in my own blood.”
Khon’Tor stood still, letting Nootau empty his soul’s pain.
“Before my mother’s offspring, An’Kru, was born, the Guardian Pan came to me. Since that time, she has come to me several times. During those visits, Pan told me many things, only a small part of which I shared with my parents and most of which I have never shared with anyone. And the truth about who sired me was one of the things she told me. As she instructed, I have mentioned it to no one. It has been hard to hold this, but that is nothing in comparison to the burden my mother has carried all these years.”
A thousand questions ran through Khon’Tor’s mind, none of which he asked.
“What is coming is going to be harder than anything we have been through before,” continued Nootau, “and somehow, you are a pivotal piece of it. Just as she told me I would have a role in protecting An’Kru, Pan also told me that I will protect you. I do not know any more than that. But she said I had to know the truth about you so I could do what I needed to with a pure heart. Before everything comes to a head, I had to know what you did and find a way to forgive you for it.”
Khon’Tor finally spoke. “The fact that I am standing here unharmed suggests that perhaps you have.”
“I am not there yet, though I am working on it,” Nootau said. “My mother shared with me much of her wisdom as I was growing up. One of the things she told me was that forgiveness is not born of a singular point in time. Forgiveness ebbs and flows, and just when you think you have grasped it, it can slide out of reach. It must be won again and again. And each time, it is not an easy victory. But until you reach forgiveness, the wrongdoing that was inflicted holds power over you. Only by genuinely forgiving you will I be freed of the burden of the injustice you inflicted on my mother. Only by forgiving you will I be able to reclaim that part of me that is still imprisoned in the pain of the past.
“Pan also said that once I had confronted you, I must tell my mother and Acaraho that I know the truth of who I am. So they can lose the burden of lying to me all these years because it wears so deeply on my mother’s heart and on her soul. She has paid in so many ways for your crimes.”
Khon’Tor spoke. “The People still recognize you as ‘Tor. You have a right to the leadership of the High Rocks.”
“I am still seeking my place, it is true. But I do not covet the role of Leader. If my will could be done, it would never pass to me,” Nootau said.
“Because you do not wish to lead.” How different he is from Akar’Tor.
“Because I wish for Acaraho to live forever.”
Nootau’s words hit Khon’Tor hard. The love of a son for his father; one of the greatest blessings in life. Will I ever know that?
“Is there more?” Khon’Tor asked, thinking of Nootau’s twin sister, Nimida.
“Not that I will share with you,” Nootau said.
“For what it is worth, I am deeply sorry.” Khon’Tor unwaveringly looked Nootau in the eyes.
Nootau turned away and then turned back. “I am not Akar’Tor. I am not blinded by hate for you, Khon’Tor. I have heard the multitude of stories about how you have changed, and I have seen it myself. I see your love for Tehya and your daughter. I grew up on the stories of your great wisdom—stories of your valor and sacrifice. Though we have had little contact through the years, you have done me no direct wrong. So the grudge I bear you is, in a way, not yours to bear. Because I do believe that you are no longer the monster who committed such travesties.”
“I have no right to say this, but if I did, I would say I am proud of who you have become.”
Nootau answered solemnly. “Perhaps someday that will mean something to me.” Then he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder before walking away in the direction of Kthama.
Khon’Tor waited a moment before starting after him. In a way, I feel great relief. These last years, I have in some way wanted him to know. And though I still cannot claim him publicly, there is some peace in realizing that at last, he knows the truth.
Acaraho, Mapiya, Adia, and Nadiwani were taking a break in the Great Chamber when a guard informed them that Khon’Tor and Nootau had arrived.
Acaraho and Adia exchanged glances and excused themselves to meet the arrivals.
Adia stepped forward to embrace her son while Acaraho greeted Khon’Tor.
“I was told you were coming,” Acaraho said. “And as I mentioned before, you are welcome at the High Rocks.”
“We are here at the direction of Urilla Wuti in her role of Overseer, and with Harak’Sar’s blessing,” emphasized Khon’Tor. “They feel it is important for both Nootau and me to be here; they are expecting events to play out in which Nootau and I will have a crucial role. I have no more information than that.”
“I was told, and I am in accord with that decision,” said Acaraho.
Adia released her son and looked at him. There is something different about Nootau. He suddenly seems so much more mature, as if he has somehow stepped into a place of certainty. “What of Iella and Tehya?” she asked.
“They were not told to come,” answered Nootau. “And we do not know how long we are to stay and when we will return home. It is as much a mystery to us as I am sure it is to you.”
Adia closed her eyes for a moment. It feels right that they are here. And something has also shifted in Khon’Tor; he is more at peace.
“You must both come and have something to eat while I have a space prepared for you for tonight, Khon’Tor,” said Acaraho. “Nootau has his own quarters waiting for him.”
As they walked, Khon’Tor relayed Urilla Wuti’s requests to Acaraho.
“I have no problem with that,” said the Leader. “I will send messengers out tomorrow with the news of the change of location, and I will gladly arrange a separate meeting room for Urilla Wuti and the Healer network.”
Behind them, Adia and Nootau were chatting. “You suddenly seem so grown up,” Adia said. “Apparently, being paired suits you.”
Nootau grinned across at his mother. “I miss life at Kthama, though. Despite wishing that Iella could be with me, I am glad to be here. And I need to speak with you when we can be in private.”
“Of course. After you have eaten, if you wish, we can meet in the Healer’s Quarters.”
Nootau looked around the familiar room at the dried herbs hanging overhead, the rows and rows of tightly-woven baskets, the lidded-gourds housing the various powders, dried leaves, and roots. He was suddenly aware of the powerful healing energy of the Healer’s Quarters.
“So much has changed, Mama,” he said. “For one, I can feel the positive energy here. And then, there is Iella; I have to tell you about Iella.” He was too excited to know where to start. But over the rest of the afternoon, he told Adia about Iella’s sudden ability to communicate with animals, his conversation with Harak’Sar and Urilla Wuti a
bout his need to come here—and more. In turn, Adia told him about Oh’Dar’s grandparents, their blossoming roles at Etera, and everything else she could remember that he might not know.
“The coming High Council meeting is very important,” she said. “We need to tell the members about the existence of the other Sarnonn community that Oh’Dar discovered during his last visit to Shadow Ridge. And then there is Urilla Wuti’s request for the Healers and Helpers to meet separately. Will you be included, son? Have you determined if you are a Healer?” she asked.
“I do not know if I am a Healer proper. There have been certain events, just as I told you about the visit from Pan when she told me about An’Kru and how I would play a role in his life. And I get other messages. Flashes of insight or actual words appearing in my head. Hearing, but not exactly like hearing.”
Adia nodded, completely understanding what her son was telling her.
“Mama, I have to tell you something else that happened.” He paused. Adia leaned in and quietly waited for him to continue.
“Once, when I was lying down after a hard day’s work, I was brought into that place where I first met Pan. The Corridor. Only in this case, I did not meet Pan. I met—” He paused again. “You are not going to believe me.”
“I will. I promise,” Adia said.
“I met An’Kru. Only he was grown. And he was magnificent. I cannot tell you how drawn I was to him. I did not want to leave his presence.”
Adia reached out and squeezed Nootau’s hand, “I believe you. Go on.”
“He told me to live my life with Iella and not to worry about my role of protecting him—that it would unfold in time. Afterward, I told Urilla Wuti about it.”
Adia squelched a pang of jealousy at hearing he had first told Urilla Wuti about his visit with An’Kru. But he is grown now. His circle has expanded, and he mostly lives at the Far High Hills. I cannot expect him to wait to speak with her until he has confided in me. Great Spirit, give me the strength to release him to walk his own path.
Nootau continued, “It was then that she decided the Healers and Helpers must start meeting separately. She believes that many of the Healers may be experiencing something similar to what Iella and I have, all brought about by the opening of Kthama Minor. And maybe amplified by An’Kru’s birth.”
Adia then explained how she and Urilla Wuti were starting to believe that meeting in the Corridor would allow the Healers to communicate across the far distances that separated them. Nootau listened carefully.
After she was done explaining, she said quietly, “You have changed. It is as if you have come into your own sense of self. Of who you are.”
Nootau took a deep breath.
“I know who I am, Mama,” he said. “And I mean that in every way.”
Pause.
“I know that Acaraho is not my blood father.” He had finally said it.
Adia inhaled sharply.
“I know it is Khon’Tor who seeded me. And I know the circumstances.”
Adia had to look away for a moment.
“I also know why you protected him all these years and why you had to lie to me to do so.”
Tears welled in Adia’s eyes.
Nootau reached out and touched her arm. “Do not cry, Mama; I am not angry.” And he repeated what he had told Khon’Tor, about how Pan had told him the truth of this and why.
“At the first opportunity, I will meet with Father and tell him,” he added. “But as this is so personal to us, I wanted to talk to each of you alone.”
“So many times I wanted to tell you. It has been a knife in my heart, not being honest with you. I am so sorry,” she wept, “I am so sorry. I pray you can forgive me.”
Nootau put his arms around her. “Mama, I love you so much. I know that you were caught in a terrible predicament with no good solution. I know you must have agonized over this more than I can ever imagine. It was a shock to hear it, but I am glad I now know. I am just so sorry this terrible thing was done to you and how you have suffered because of it.”
“There is more,” she sobbed, thinking of Nimida.
“I know. Pan told me. And she told me you would say that. But she said to tell you that when the time is right, the rest will be revealed and that for now, I know enough. So, please, whatever you were about to say, do not. I am learning to trust the Order of Functions.”
Adia wiped away the tears running down her face and turned her head to meet her son’s eyes.
She placed one hand against the side of his face, “You are no longer the little offspring who played at my feet. You are no longer the young male who learned at his father’s side to throw spears and fish in the shallows of the Great River. You have grown not only beyond my grasp but also beyond my ability to protect you from the harsh realities of Etera.”
“I have grown beyond your grasp, it is true. But I will never stop reaching back for it. You will always be my hero, my inspiration. And my Mama.”
Adia let herself melt into her son’s arms, and she sobbed out the years of pain and anguish in his comforting embrace. They stayed there for some time, healing together, each gaining strength from the other’s love, preparing to face the storm that was coming. But at last, the lie that had lived between them since Nootau was born was released into the light of truth.
Chapter 9
Oh’Dar was relieved when once again the treetops near the Brothers’ village came into view. Dusty and weary from the trip, he paused to change out of his Waschini clothes. He pulled off the hated boots, tipped them over, and shook off the dirt and grime before stuffing them into the bottom of one of the boxes on the back of the wagon. It was too late to pull into the village; he would wake everyone. So instead, he unhitched the team and attended to each horse. He scavenged around and was lucky enough to find enough dry wood for a warming fire. His thoughts drifted to the supplies he had brought, and he hoped he would not have to return to the Waschini world again any time soon.
The next morning, Oh’Dar drove into the village and was met with the usual fanfare of happy children running around and the circle of welcoming adults.
He jumped off the wagon bench, and immediately Acise was in his arms. She smiled and threw her arms around his neck. Then he greeted Acise’s family and all the others who were watching intensely. After speaking with them for a moment, Ithua suggested that they all give Oh’Dar and Acise some privacy. Everyone disappeared except Noshoba.
“What did you bring?” Acise asked excitedly.
“Hopefully, things that will make my grandparents’ transition easier. I did bring some sweets for the children if you want to get help and pass them out. Oh, and—” He dug around in a bag at the back of the wagon, and finding what he wanted, pulled it out.
She peeked into the open bag and exclaimed, “What in—?”
Oh’Dar laughed and took out something shiny. He put the harmonica to his mouth, bent over to hide what he was doing, and gave it a whispery toot. Acise’s eyes widened and she laughed.
“I got them for the children before I left Shadow Ridge. But now that Waschini riders have been in the area, I do not think it is a good idea.”
Acise nodded. “Perhaps not.”
Oh’Dar put the harmonica back into its packaging, which he wrapped closed. He dropped it back into the wagon.
“I am so happy to be home,” he exclaimed, and picking her up carefully, he briefly swung her around.
“You do not have to tell me that you are anxious to go to Kthama and see your grandparents. Would you like me to go with you this time?” Acise asked.
“I would love that,” he said.
She walked around to the back of the wagon and peered in. “Do we get to see what all of this is?”
“When it is unloaded, yes. I am going to need help getting it to Kthama.”
“The watchers will help you. They can easily carry everything. It would be much better than trying to get the whole team and wagon up there,” she said. Then she noticed her lit
tle brother still watching them.
“Noshoba, go and find Momma, please. Oh’Dar and I need to talk”
Oh’Dar tousled the boy’s hair before sending him on his way. “He is excited I am back.”
“So am I,” said Acise, smiling up at him.
He pulled her up close and pressed her tightly against him. “I cannot wait for tonight,” he whispered into her ear.
“What is wrong with going to our shelter right now? Or have you become shy while you were away?”
“Nothing is wrong, but I have to take care of the horses and the supplies in the wagon,” he answered.
“That is going to take a while,” she said.
“All the more reason for you to come with me to Kthama. By tonight, everything will be taken care of, and you and I can have each other all to ourselves.”
“Can the wagon not wait until tomorrow? It will be too late by the time all that work is done.”
“Alright. I will take care of the horses now and the wagon tomorrow.”
Before she left him to it, Acise gave him a long, lingering kiss.
As Oh’Dar was leading the team away, a figure emerged behind him. He turned to see Pajackok jogging to catch up, with Noshoba not too far behind.
Oh’Dar stopped and waited for them.
As he waited, his mind flooded with bittersweet memories of times together with Pajackok as they were growing up. He had looked on Pajackok as a friend, and he grieved the loss.
“I, too, am glad you have returned to our people,” said Pajackok. “If you will allow it, Noshoba and I can take care of the horses. Your life-walker is waiting for you.”
“Thank you,” said Oh’Dar and stopped to stare while Pajackok and Noshoba continued on with the team. I believe that was his way of saying I am no longer his enemy.
As he was thinking, Isskel came trotting over.
The Edge of Hope: Wrak-Ayya: The Age of Shadows Book Eleven Page 12
