by G. H. Duval
And then she understood. Jeyson required that she understand.
Great Shepherd above. Forgive me, she thought desperately. I made her see that!
This is what her daughter had truly suffered from. The thoughts and emotions that she, and the entire family, had thrust upon Mina. It was not the gift that drove Mina to such extremes, it was the gift without the proper guidance that had done so. Her daughter was gifted beyond any rational explanation. No child at such a young age should express an affinity, and certainly not of Spirit! That she had done so cemented for Lena what she had resisted for so long. Not only was Mina au L’espri, she was of that rarified breed: A Seer. Perhaps even the next First.
From the time her mother had been recalled to Coer and had not returned…when Lena had only been a girl of barely ten years herself, she had understood the harsh reality of formal service. Unlike her peers, she would not revere it, nor romanticize it. But, if her daughter must be compelled to serve, Lena thought she could tolerate that Mina would do so not as a marionette on a string, but as the person who pulled all the strings.
The pain Mina felt at being invaded was still pounding in Lena’s mind. Please, she begged Jeyson silently, moaning aloud. Release me from this. I beg you…
You did not release her, Jeyson reminded her sternly. He kept her in that agonizing memory for a moment longer before finally withdrawing and relinquishing control of her thoughts.
Lena gasped as he withdrew, sobbing from so deep a place she thought she might suffocate. To grasp how deeply she had erred, how she had harmed her precious girl… Further coherent thought escaped her.
“Now you truly understand,” Jeyson murmured, and his tone was not unkind, merely matter of fact. “Now, finally, you may begin to heal. And so will she. We will get little Mina to Mother as soon as possible.”
Mother…to Mother. And that is no longer me.
Lena nodded, numb, as her sobs continued. Jeyson did not touch her or offer comfort. This grieving she must bear alone.
“Siare has already touched her mind. Mina will sleep until such time as the First feels it is safe for her to wake.”
He stood and moved to the door, settling against it and glancing briefly at Preon and Myrra where they still sat at the table. “If you both will see to Dodge while I await Jasper and Lena’s preparations. Harlan and Jayma are expecting you.”
His eyes flashed a soft lavender for but a moment, but Preon and Myrra both nodded as they rose. Some instruction, Lena surmised, had passed between them.
Myrra paused as she moved around the table. She hovered near Lena for a moment, then quickly, the way only those of her affinity can manage, she bent and gathered Lena into her arms.
“You are not alone,” she whispered, voice fierce and strong. “We’ll be back soon and will meet you at House Hevlin.” With another hard squeeze, she joined Preon as he exited the room. Lena took a deep, shuddering breath and began to piece herself back together.
Not alone.
“Why don’t you go up now, Lena?” Jeyson suggested, his tone gentle, but it was a command no matter how nicely he had phrased it. “Take only the necessities. I cannot say what the Firsts will decide. Do not burden yourselves with unnecessary belongings.”
She had always prided herself on her skills as a mother. On how present she had been for each of her children. The way her mother had not been there for her. And now she learned that all she had done right could never overcome that which she had so horribly done wrong. She deserved whatever the Firsts had in store for her.
Hirute, she prayed, please, please…let your servant heal my girl! Please!
The prayer repeated in her mind as she complied with Jeyson’s instructions. So long as Mina could be healed, she cared not for what might happen to her. A part of her welcomed punishment. Needed it, in fact. There would be time for that later, she thought, as she moved up the stairs to join Jasper for their departure. She expected she would never see her home again.
*
Mina gasped and drew a ragged breath, blinking through tears that were not her own. She had not decided to withdraw from Lena, but she found herself firmly locked within her own mind once more. Mother’s mind, warm and strong, wrapped around her, and their shared Aspect pulsed protectively around them both. Mina grimaced and let loose a small sound of disgust.
MUST these women persist in imposing their wills upon her?
She realized that she’d fallen to her knees before Lena at some point. She had no concept of how long she’d sat there while she rifled through her mother’s mind, but she suspected it had been longer than she’d planned as her legs tingled from lack of blood flow. Carefully so as not to betray her trembling limbs, she rose and moved back to her chair. Spring watched her intently but did not move to touch her or offer aid, as she would have once done automatically.
Instead, Spring glanced quickly between Mina and Lena, trying to determine what had passed between them and hoping both had emerged whole. Her fear and hope, equally strong, battered at Mina’s walls, but the emotions were easily kept separate from Mina now.
“I’m alright, Spring,” Mina assured her, voice subdued. The encounter had left her exhausted, but she would do her best to keep that to herself.
Reaching is taxing, dear one. You must be more careful, Mother intoned, still hovering within Mina’s mind. Mina’s teeth clenched and her eyes flashed.
I’m fine! Mina insisted. Please leave me now, Mother. I would complete my morning’s work alone.
Mina felt Mother’s shock a moment before her mentor masked it. Another moment of hesitation passed. Mina wondered how long it had been since the Headmistress had been defied so by one of her charges. But Mina had had quite enough of being seen to by well-meaning women whose decisions left Mina paying the price for their errors in judgement. She could not name precisely how she knew it, but she did know it. Mother was not infallible. And there was something in their connection that was not as it should be.
Another moment passed and it took Mina’s patience with it. Mina trusted in her Aspect and in her growing ability to harness it. With a sigh, she stroked the opal band in her mind that was Mother’s Aspect, tested it, and found the sliver between where it ended and Mina’s own band began. She concentrated, marshalling her power, and slid a barrier into place, just as Mother had taught her months before. Only now, she used it to banish Mother from her mind.
Instantly, a shocked and clearly angered pulse from Mother slammed against her barrier, but Mina held firm. She was pleasantly surprised to find that it took nearly no additional effort to maintain her walls against Mother now. She took it as confirmation that she’d been right in her interpretation of what she was feeling about their relationship. Bolstered by this thought, she decided to test her theory further. As the next pulse from the older woman came, Mina opened herself just enough to grasp that which Mother extended. She held it, again stroking that part of her that was Spirit and that was also part of Mother.
I am not ungrateful for what you’ve done. But you overstep, Mother. Do not attempt to enter without my permission again.
She sent the thought with all the conviction she felt, as well as her love and gratitude for this woman who’d come to mean so much to her. And Mother yielded. Sadness confusion and hurt radiated though their bond briefly before Mother’s own walls fell into place. And then all was blessedly silent in Mina’s mind.
Finally, she refocused her eyes on the woman who sat before her. Lena appeared deflated, wan and trembling from what Mina had forced her to relive. She did not regret doing it, for she finally found a fraction of the empathy she’d desperately needed to move forward.
“I’m sorry for your pain,” she said to Lena. “I’m afraid it was necessary.”
Lena nodded, eyes locking onto Mina’s, and a kernel of hope burned within them.
“I understand that you no longer accept me as your mother,” Lena said. “But you are of my body and spirit, and I will bear any pain for you.”<
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It was Mina’s turn to nod. “I know that now. Mother.”
Lena went very still, and Mina ventured a small smile, trying to put her mother at ease in some small measure.
“We have some ways to go, you and I. But…I believe we’ll find a new path. Together.”
Lena broke then, sobbing with relief. Spring went to her again, holding her as their mother rocked back and forth. Mina joined them. She did not touch Lena, but she once more went to her knees.
“Please look at me,” she asked gently, being sure no part of her Aspect shone in her eyes. Lena complied.
“To find that path, it would help if I could continue to spend time with you. Physically and…” Her voice trailed off and she pointed at her temple. “May I re-enter? You may choose what you wish for me to know. I promise you, I will only see what you decide to share.”
Lena took a deep breath, steeling herself. It was clear she wished to deny Mina nothing—not on the brink of perhaps bridging the gulf between them. But she was just as clearly afraid, and Mina did not fault her for that.
After another long beat, Lena’s eyes cleared and she looked bravely into her daughter’s eyes.
“Yes, you may enter. I am ready.”
*
Lena followed Jasper through the threshold to their new home. If it could be called that. Their assigned cottage was one of several dozen nondescript boxes, all laid out in an unimaginative grid along exacting, square lines. Not a flowerbed or shrub in sight. The interior was equally uninspiring, comprised of a small common room with a brazier. That room opened on the right to an attached space with an open hearth for cooking, some rudimentary cookware and the like, and a modest worktable. The door on the opposite side led to what she presumed was to be their bedchamber. She marshalled her will and stifled the acid adjectives that swarmed to her lips in surveying what had replaced her home in Hayden’s. How could she complain? After all, she had brought them here.
She schooled her features to neutrality and moved passed Jasper into what was supposed to pass for her kitchen now. In her peripheral vision, Jasper set down the packs he carried and attempted to revive the small, obviously old brazier. The pain she’d managed to hold within her as a dull, ever-present ache flared to pounding as she spied on her husband. Were Brandin here, their au Feur son, they’d have no need of such measures. But Brandin was not here. And neither was Jasper…not truly. He was but a shell of what he once was, and of that, he gave her but a sliver. Her men were as absent from her now as were her daughters.
I deserve this, she thought. It was resignation, not pity. She was simply accepting a fact. She turned away from the sight of Jasper and walked into the kitchen.
There was, she noted with surprise, a window in the kitchen and another door. After cracking it open and peeking outside, she was pleased to find that it led to a small side yard, replete with paving stones. This led to another small square behind the cottage itself. She had not noticed the tiny yards as they had made their way to the cluster known as ‘Married Unit Housing,’ and while meager, the little yard was a welcome surprise.
She imagined that she could plant tulips in the side yard that would, come spring, peek above the window ledge. Perhaps she could put an herb box in the window and plant some vegetables out back. She would have to ask one of her Cultivation au Terre sisters what would be best to plant this time of year, as horticulture had never been her particular talent. A shiver—a thrill, if she were being honest—moved through her. Her real talent had never been calling gemstones and crafting jewelry. Her real talent was much shaper and potentially dangerous than that. She had fled from it as a student…hidden behind anger and the promise of a simple life. But that was over now. She almost laughed at the irony that the destruction of all she’d built had led her to this place, where she could embrace all that Hirute had given her without fear or limitation. She could finally be herself. Completely.
When she returned to the common room, Jasper was gone. The door to their bedchamber was open, and she could hear him moving about within, arranging the few belongings they had brought with them. What they dad been permitted to bring with them, Lena thought sourly. Again, she pushed down her irritation. She did not know with whom she was most angry—the Firsts or herself? She shook her head, for this was another lie. She knew precisely with whom she was most angry. She stood before the brazier, lost in her circular thoughts, feeling the slowly building heat seep out and around her, and she rubbed herself to banish the fall chill from her skin.
“Lena?” Jasper’s voice broke her from her paralysis. She started and flushed guiltily. He was standing in the doorway to the bedchamber, watching her with the wary look he had worn perpetually when regarding her since he’d learned the truth. She was thankful he had not turned her aside for her sins. At least not yet. He had not fully accepted her again, either, and she expected he never would. Theirs was now a partnering of strategy and obedience meant to preserve their lives and protect their daughters, who were now firmly in the hands of the Firsts.
“Yes. Yes, I’m coming,” she murmured, and quickly gathered the few sacks he had not yet carried into their room before joining him.
“I’m simply tired.”
To his credit, Jasper didn’t respond to her lie. He nodded and slid the sacks from her hands. Taking one last look about the cottage, she squared her shoulders and joined the man who was, at least for now, still her husband.
*
Of her own volition this time, Mina withdrew from her mother. Spring was now kneeling beside her, so she reached for her sister’s hand. With her free hand, she reached for her mother’s hands and squeezed.
“Yes...we will find a new path together.”
Twenty-Four
“Never forget that the source of My gift is My love for you. Even in the midst of the deepest darkness yet does My perfect love for you persist.”
–Helig Ra’d, Teachings of the Great Shepherd
The face was beautiful—serene and peaceful. And it was a lie.
Siare looked upon the woman who had been Nika au Ciele—one of the four whom Shavare had brought home for burial and the last to be visited by Siare that morning. She had come to pay her respects and perform the rites that only she, as First Seer, could complete—releasing the final seed of her lost child’s connection to Hirute.
Siare stood in the cellar of the Steading’s chapel, a space reserved for the preparation of their dead prior to ceremonial burning. Though these fallen Shepherds had faltered at the end, she would still conduct their services publicly, as tradition demanded. She owed them at least this much for failing to protect them, and for failing to see the path that led to their demise. But this moment, this final execution of her duties, Siare would have in private, with only Mother and Culari at her back.
As mother to all Shepherds sworn to her service, Hirute did not send his First Seer the added burden, or distraction, of children from her body. Deepening her fulfillment, though it was not strictly canonical, Siare extended her maternal instinct to every Shepherd across Coerdom, whether they chose formal service or not. And here she stood, the supposedly all-knowing First Seer, looking at the broken body of her child. The presence of the three other fallen Shepherds seemed to push at her from where they rested on their own slabs behind her. It was a physical silence—a judgment of the First who should have been replaced long ago.
The space between her shoulders ached, burning from fatigue and shame. Rage threatened within her, helping to banish the fear that even more dire mistakes lay ahead. For it was obvious now that some force was interfering with Hirute’s design. Or worse, His design had changed and her role within it was one she could no longer fathom. She buried those thoughts and accepted that she could not indulge in such musings now.
Her only solace was that there would come a time, and soon, when she would satisfy her anger and her grief. She would ensure that those responsible would share in the pain they had forced upon her. And if the price for her
vengeance, for setting the world back to rights, was the cost of her life…it was one she was more than willing to pay.
Siare brushed her fingers across Nika’s face—the once creamy skin gone ashen. She had been beautiful, vivacious, and spontaneous. And now she was gone. Siare combed fingers through Nika’s hair, gently so as not to snag or pull, refusing to think of this child as the corpse she now was. Closing her eyes, Siare delivered the prayer for the dead for the fourth time that morning.
“Most merciful Father,” she began. “We call upon Your power, Lord of Lords, even as we yield to Your will. As You have allowed this child, Nika au Ciele, to move from this world to Yours, we weep for our loss and seek Your comfort. Remind us, Great Shepherd, that while we have lost a daughter, she has gained You. In faith and love, we trust Your perfect wisdom. In faith and love, we release our beloved daughter, Nika, back to Your hands. May she be guided in exaltation to the foot of Your throne.”
Her voice fell silent, but her mind flared to attention, diving into that last, feeble spark that was Nika’s soul. Deftly, she found the faintly glowing remnant of Nika’s Aspect bond—an opalescent orb that rippled softly with a ribbon of varying colors.
She wrapped her mind around the node-opal, slicing it away from the vestige of its host, and reabsorbed it into her own psyche. As she did so, the opal dissolved. For just a second, Siare felt a brief, stinging bite, like that of a flea or mosquito at the back of one’s neck. With it came an image of black, pulsing webbing. Just the barest of glimpses before both the sting and the image were gone. Having sensed it in the other three already, she had prepared this time. The pain was minimal, but the lesson was important. For what she saw told her that whatever had compromised her Shepherds was still living and still seeking to taint…still hungry.
A translucent image of Nika appeared: young and fit. She pulsed with an amber light for a few brief moments. Her eyes seemed to look beyond Siare, seeing, Siare presumed, into that holy place Siare hoped to find soon herself. Nika turned in the air, slowly circling a few times until she smiled, and her form began to dissipate. In a few brief moments, she faded completely.
