The Unforeseen One

by Lexy Wolfe

  “Because the world is a part of You?” Terrence asked, his words measured. “But aren’t we all a part of You?”

  “You are a part of Us, and separate from Us,” the Unchanging One replied. “It is one of the paradoxes of Our creation. We can see you, and see through you. Hear you, and hear through you. Most of the time. If We focus through any individual. And even then, there are exceptions.”

  “Like Zhekali,” Terrence interjected. “Because she was a paradox, too.”

  The Changing One smiled more. “We experience Our creation through you, but We cannot anticipate you. The paradox that is mortal souls brings us great joy and great anxiety.”

  “Through you, We see Ourselves,” the Timeless One added. “Through Us, you will discover yourself. My blessings give you and your family the time needed.”

  “How can I help You? What do You need?” he asked after several moments. “You can’t have Zhekali. It would devastate Storm to lose us right now. You know that.” He frowned, musing half to himself, “So what else could You possibly need?”

  “Redemption,” all three replied in unison.

  Terrence blinked at the unexpected response. “For yourselves or for someone else?”

  “We cannot tell you. You must discover the answer to that question,” the Unchanging One stated as she folded back into the inert bolder, her presence fading from the room. “We can only say it is that which We need.”

  The Changing One smile crookedly, shrugging a shoulder, almost sheepish. “If We told you what We thought it meant to Us, it might blind you to discovering what We really need but do not realize We need.” The swirl of air and fire spun itself out and vanished along with His presence as well.

  “No pressure there at all,” Terrence muttered in a sour tone.

  The Timeless One chuckled. “I would have preferred to wait until you had acclimated to all the changes you have endured in so short a time, dear one. However, I know you and your family plan on departing Fortress very soon. And if I tried to stop you, your chieftains would lash out against Me. Aelia is especially intolerant of Me at present. We agreed, given the nature of mortal lives and whims, it would be best to speak with you now.”

  “But, Timeless One…Mistress. Why not tell all of us? You could have sent for us.” He waved a hand in the vague direction where he had come in. “Ash would have been better to tell than me. I—”

  He fell silent when her finger touched his lips gently. “Trust in yourself as We trust in you,” She stated in her whispery voice. “The task is not yours alone. But you are the only one who bears the qualities needed to be able to enter this holy place without risking its stability. Bastille could not have brought any other through the barrier with the world as it is now. It is more fragile than it appears, just not so much it will crumble at a touch” She shrugged. “Given the magnitude of Our request of you, We wished to ask this personally, not through a divine servant.”

  “How quickly must we discover who needs redemption and how?” he asked.

  She smiled. “As long as it takes, dear one. You are Dusvet Guardians. I have given you as much of Myself as you need. Now go. Holding time still any longer will disrupt things within Fortress, and that will not do at all.” With those words, the water composing the temporal goddess’s form flowed back into the pool.

  “Come,” Bastille stated in kind tones, her hand on his shoulder. “It has been only moments beyond the barrier, but your family is getting worried about your absence.”

  Lost in thought, Terrence only nodded, following the crystalline woman. When he noticed the familiar wall, he looked at her. “Bastille, will I be able to return here?”

  Her eyes dropped as she shook her head. “I am afraid not. Not unless They require your presence. This place was to the divine Roylat as the archives are to mortal Guardians of Time. A home. A refuge. A sanctuary from the lives of responsibility.” She looked back toward the chamber. “I am not sure even they could cross the barrier without my aid now, so much has changed. The Totani or Trisari could not.”

  “But I could?”

  She nodded. “With assistance, because you are mortal. But yes, you could. Most altars to the ancient trinity were only created in the divine homes within your world.” She held her hand out to him, a small, faceted crystal in the hollow of her palm.

  He took the object, studying it with wary curiosity. “What is this?”

  “By divine law, I cannot divulge what you can learn for yourself,” she explained, apology in her tones. “I ask that you take it where it needs to go.” She smiled when he opened his mouth. “There is no hurry. It has been waiting for over a thousand years. It will harm nothing waiting longer still.”

  “Very well,” he replied. He turned to the glass-like woman and offered a deep bow to her. “Thank you, Bastille. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

  A wide smile touched Bastille’s features. “And you, Zhekali’s heir. I hope They wish to speak with you again someday. It has been far too long since any have come here. Now, back you go!” With a gentle push, she moved him across the barrier into the intersection with the main archive. He touched the blank wall, lost in thought.

  The Master Archivist, abruptly ran into him as she emerged from the Forentan archive hall. “Oh! Forgive me, Dusvet Terrence.” Her complexion was deep red with embarrassment as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Forgive me. I did not wish to interrupt your studies. Dusvet Tyrsan asked after you but no one knew where you were.”

  “It is fine, Ranshya.” He closed his eyes a moment, reaching out to sense the time of day. As Bastille had promised, it was only minutes, too little time for the tribe to do more than worry. He focused on trying to be as reassuring as possible to the flood of alarm he felt from the others. Petal peeked out of his pocket and after a pat in assurance, climbed up the man’s chest to sit on his shoulder, very quiet and well-behaved. “I should be setting a good example by not being so difficult to locate.”

  He could not help but grin as the woman sniffed critically behind him. “You could not possibly reach the level of bad example that Dusvets Emil and Emaris attain, Illaini Dusvet.”

  Only a shielded sunstone lamp illuminated the bedroom. Storm’s eyes fluttered open, her body weak and aching from blood-loss induced lethargy. Her voice, little more than a whisper, broke with the dryness of her throat. “Where am I?”

  “Ye be home,” Emil stated, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her, holding a cup. “Ye been out fer a couple o’ days. Glad yer awake finally.” His expression filled with hurt when she closed her eyes and turned her face away. “Skyfire tol’ us what happened. How ye tried ta protect th’ rest of us. An’ why.” He put a hand on her arm. “If I’d ha’ known, I’d ha’ kicked that dumbass Roylat in the nads an’ told him ta go t’ one o’ th’ hells.”

  “Why?” Emil winced at her harsh rasp. “You need not stand by a tribe you want to leave.”

  The gypsy heaved a sigh, shaking his head. “That’s what I was wantin’ ta tell ye when Emaris an’ I walked in on ye and Kendle. S’pose I coulda started out things better’n I had.” She fixed her eyes on him. “Itena an’ us had a long talk ‘bout th’ ghost guard after ye left. An’ I had enough alcohol t’ get o’er the shock o’ ye tellin’ us Itena were pregnant.”

  Storm tried to push herself up on the incline she rested on, but could not manage. She looked aggrieved but allowed Emil to help her. “What does it matter?”

  “Lass, ye make rocks look soft an’ flexible wi’ yer stubbornness. Here.” He took a sip from the cup, then held it for her. “Taylin says ye lost a lot o’ blood an’ need ta get liquids in ya t’ get yer strength back.” He waited until she finished the broth before sitting again, facing her. “And it matters b’cause we figured out we don’t need ta leave th’ na’Zhekali t’ stay bein’ ghost guard a’ tall.”

  Storm frowned. “I don’t understand. I thought your ghost guard were only gypsies.”

  “Like th’ na’Zhekali w
ere only Desanti warriors.” The man quirked a wry smile. “Everyone grows an’ changes. Ye tol’ us about yer tribe. How they were dedicated t’ protectin’ the balance of Desantiva. Well, that be what th’ ghost guard did fer Sevmana. Little bit fer Forenta, but it were limited.”

  “Not for the Vodani or Desanti.”

  Emil shook his head. “No. Vodani ain’t that different from yer people, ye know. Keepin’ their own secrets. Livin’ in a land, or in their case, on th’ water, where no one else could survive easily. Livin’ with it, not trying ta dominate it.”

  His expression creased with worry when Storm grimaced in pain, her body tensing. He put his hand on her brow, frowning. “Ye got a fever. That ain’t good.”

  “I am…fine.” She strained to grab his wrist, pulling his hand down over her heart. “You are staying with the tribe? Even though I am Cursed?”

  “Yes, lass. Emaris an’ I will be stayin’ with th’ tribe. But…” He closed his eyes, hesitating until she squeezed weakly. “We canna travel wi’ ye when ye leave Fortress. There be things we need ta learn ta be ghost guard as Guardians of Time.”

  “You need to learn to hide in plain sight.” She managed a weak smile. “I did not understand before. The Seeing One is not only about seeing, or being seen, but about unseeing. Being visible and being in—” She grimaced again.

  “Invisible, aye.” Emil held her hand in both of his. “Relax, Storm. Please. Ye need rest ta heal.” He squeezed. “Once we ha’ learned what we need, Emaris an’ I’ll catch up t’ the rest of the tribe. Ye be family.” He quirked a teasing smile. “Ye think we’re gonna let ye go wanderin’ around wi’out us keepin’ ye out of trouble?”

  “I thought,” Storm whispered with a weak laugh, “it was us keeping you…out of trouble.” Her eyes closed despite her best effort to stay awake.

  “Mebbe a little.” Emil smiled, caressing her hair. “Sleep. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” He looked over his shoulder as the door opened. “She woke up fer a bit.”

  “I know,” Ash stated. He walked over to rest his hand on Storm’s brow. “I wanted to give you a chance to explain things to her while she was too weak to cut you.” His expression reflected his chagrin. “It is not a pleasant experience.”

  “Ye don’t say?” Emil’s droll tone drew a chuckle from the Forentan mage. “Thank ye, Ash. Means a lot t’ me that ye trusted me enough ta let me near yer lifemate.” He winced when the mage smacked the back of his head. “Hey! What that be fer?”

  “Do you think just because something or someone angers her, I will automatically do what her first instinct is?” Ash shook his head. “Storm tends to react poorly initially because it is the only way she knows how not to look weak when she is hurt. The deeper she’s hurt, the worse she lashes out.” He looked down at the sleeping woman. “Anything that touches close to reliving the loss of the first na’Zhekali will bring out the worst, most violent reaction.”

  “But they were murdered. I’d ha’ thought usin’ a ritual ta break a bond would no’ be so traumatic.”

  Ash shrugged one shoulder. “Her head might know that. The six year old girl who lived through that slaughter would only see the pain and the loss. It is her deepest fear, losing people she loves.” He patted Emil’s back. “She has been alone for longer than she has had us. It will take a long time for that wound to stop bleeding.”

  “Yeah. I guess so.” Emil sighed, looking at the dark hand he held in both of his. “Sorry I dinna talk ta ye from th’ start.”

  “Forgive me for being so unapproachable,” Ash countered. “I admit I have kept most people at arm’s length if not farther. It is a habit I am trying to change. At least for the tribe.” He looked toward the door, a distant look in his eyes. “We all have our burdens we have borne alone. Habit is not easy to change, and old fear can overwhelm new trust.”

  “I really wish we dinna ha’ t’ stay here. We’re gonna be worried sick ‘bout all of ye.”

  “Mm. I suppose we are all going to have to work on dealing with being too distant from one another and being unable to go to our tlisan’s aid. Not all of us will be able to travel at the same time, and different duties will not call all of us at once.” Ash smiled wanly. “Terrence and I have been working on a means that will allow us to communicate. Though thus far, we have been repeatedly…unsuccessful.”

  “Yeah?” Emil tilted his head, curious. “What be that?” The mage was surprised for a moment that the gypsy showed interest. Then went over to the small table in the room, brought a chair over and settled in to talk with the man.

  SEATED IN THE common area by the fire pit, Jaison sat on the edge of the couch, focused on his clasped hands. He looked up when Taylin emerged from his and Bella’s room, expression filled with questioning hope. That hope faded when she closed her eyes, shaking her head. “Her paralysis is permanent?”

  The healer nodded. “I do not know why. There is no physical reason that I can find. It must be something to do with the crysalin of Lyra’s arrow, but I have no experience with the material.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “I will keep trying to figure out a way to give her use of her arm again, I promise.”

  “I know, Taylin. Thank you.” He glanced toward the room. “How is she taking it?”

  The Sevmanen woman looked back with some guilt in her expression. “As well as I expected she would. Such catastrophic injuries are always hardest on those who define themselves by a physical artform. She puts on a brave face for the rest of us, but she is hurting and feeling lost.”

  Jaison sighed. “Thank you for trying. Even a little hope helped.”

  She hugged him tight. “I will not stop trying to figure out a solution. I promise.”

  “Taylin,” the man chided gently. “I know. But you have other duties to attend to. Raising your son. Keeping Storm alive.” He looked toward the other room. “You may need to convince her to stay put. She is restless.”

  “She also can’t stay on her feet longer than five minutes,” the healer replied in tart tones, heading to the other bedroom. “Apparently blood magic takes a lot more out of a person than we understood. Not terribly useful as a magic, if you ask me.”

  He watched her go, sighing. “You just don’t understand Desanti. Seeking death is ingrained in our nature.” With that, he headed to his room, closing and locking the door behind him. “Bella?”

  The Vodani woman flinched, grabbing the corner of a pillowcase and rubbing her tear-streaked face. “Oh, hey there, Jaison. I didn’t know you were still here. I thought you went on patrol.”

  “Tyrsan pretty much made it clear I would need Taylin’s skills to reattach my head if I even thought about going out today.” He smirked a bit. “The man’s words still carry a lot of weight.”

  “So does his left hook,” the woman quipped, managing a half-hearted smile. It faded and she leaned against him as he sat beside her and pulled her against him. “I knew Taylin wouldn’t be able to do anything. But I still let myself believe there was a chance.”

  He hushed her, kissing the top of her head. “There will always be a chance. She is young as far as Guardians go and she’s the first true healer to become one. Perhaps once she has time—”

  “Stop it,” Bella snapped, pulling away and walking to the wall. Her shoulders sagged as she rested her forehead against the smoothed rock. “Just…stop it. Stop trying to give me hope when there is none. I can’t be an archer with one arm. I am not any use on patrols! Everyone has to worry about me on top of themselves and—”

  “What happened wasn’t your fault, Bella!” He tried putting his hands on her shoulders. “Miloi was careless.”

  She turned and hit him on the chest with her fist. “He was protecting me! If I could have done anything, he wouldn’t have…he wouldn’t have…” Her pounding got weaker as he pulled her tight against him. “I was weak and stupid for allowing myself to be used by Dremmen and his lackeys. Why didn’t Lyra just kill me then?”

  “Do you think you would be a Dusvet
if you were useless? Or weak? And you are far from stupid, so don’t even attempt to argue that.” He tilted her face up, rubbing the tears from her cheeks. “You have a lot to offer.”

  “When I go down to talk to those I used to patrol with, they avoid me now. If not finding excuses to leave, they outright flee when I appear. It is like they fear catching some horrible pox from me.” She squeezed her eyes shut, looking away. “They shun me as a cripple.”

  “You are crippled only if you allow yourself.” She looked up at the firm belief in his voice. “Do you think Storm let blindness stop her? She attacked the Unseen and nearly killed one!”

  “Storm is a reborn divine servant,” she argued weakly.

  “Mm hm. And Skyfire faced her and equaled her in speed and skill. He is as mortal as the rest of us. So either he is more than human, she is less than divine servant, or she is simply human herself, no matter who she had been before. Albeit, a very skilled and dangerous human.”

  Bella mused quietly, laying her head on his shoulder. “He is quite a fine specimen of Desanti man.”

  Jaison laughed. “You are incorrigible. Now come over here and sit down.” He led her to the small table with two chairs, pulling one out for her. “I have a present for you.”

  She sighed and looked down. “Please don’t. I couldn’t take a pity gift.”

  He made a dismissive sound as he went over to his trunk. “I feel bad for your situation, but I hardly pity you, Bella. You’re stronger than you think you are.” He glanced up. “Close your eyes.”

  “What? Why?”

  He sighed loudly, looking up at the ceiling. “Just humor me, would you?” Waiting a moment, he added in mock-stern tones, “You are peeking.”