Forgotten Truth

by Dawn Cook

  It was difficult to decide how best to advise Talo-Toecan in handling the situation without giving away the future too soon. Talo-Toecan was loyal to his beliefs, and if not told otherwise, he would undoubtedly adhere to long-held raku mores that held no place in a Hold that was dying. Perhaps it wouldn’t take much convincing. Talo-Toecan was quite the rebel concerning the morality of manipulating the humans’ population for their benefit.

  He read his letter over twice, made a sharp crease down the center, and propped it up on the mantel to give to Talo-Toecan when he returned. He smiled at the imagined look of bemusement his onetime student would give him after reading it. It was worded so that it would be meaningless until after Alissa got back. His smile faded. If she got back.

  Feeling tired and old, he went to his bed and sat on the edge with a heavy sigh. It seemed as if her presence was still here. She had left behind the scent of the wind that ran before a desert storm, lingering among his books and papers. His hand brushed the top sheet as he adjusted his pillows, and he paused, bending close in disbelief. There was grit under his sheets! She had left stone chips and sand in his bed! Outraged, he stood, stepping on his writing board. He stiffened as he scooped it up. It was ruined! And his cloak! He shook the sand from it, furious.

  Spinning about, he took three long steps to his door. Then he caught himself at his desk. Breath slipping from him in a sigh, he set the board and cloak aside. A smile came over him as he crafted a blanket and eased to his balcony to sleep under the moon.

  41

  “Good morning, Master Connen-Neute, Keeper Alissa.” “Morning,” Alissa stammered, and the unidentified Keeper continued down the hall to the stairs. She recognized him but had no idea as to his name. His footsteps faded to leave the Keepers’ hall silent. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to the closed door before them.

  “By my Master’s Hounds, Alissa,” Connen-Neute grumbled. “You’re only asking Nisi to join you for breakfast, not requesting a favor from Redal-Stan.”

  Alissa tucked her hair out of her eyes, peeved at the amusement in his thoughts. Nervous, she took a step back. “She probably isn’t even in there.”

  He took her shoulders, stopping her retreat. “She is.”

  “I’d wager she has plans already,” Alissa hedged.

  “Let’s find out.” Using his height as an unfair advantage, Connen-Neute picked Alissa up by the elbows and set her firmly before Nisi’s door. Grasping her hand, he knocked.

  “Stop it!” she hissed, trying to pull away.

  “If you’re going to run away, you’d better do it now,” he said, his eyes dancing.

  Nisi flung open her door, and Connen-Neute steeled his face back to a dignified, dispassionate expression. Biting back her cry of outrage, Alissa turned to smile weakly at Nisi.

  “Alissa! Hello,” Nisi said. “And good morning, Connen-Neute.” She flicked a brief glance at him, and he gave her a silent nod.

  In a smooth, unhurried motion, Alissa surreptitiously kicked Connen-Neute. He owed her something. “Good morning, Keeper Nisi,” he said aloud, and Nisi blinked in surprise.

  “Um, hi,” Alissa said into the awkward silence. “I was wondering if you had breakfast yet, and if not, would you like to join me?” Connen-Neute jabbed an unseen finger into her ribs, and she bit back a muffled grunt. “I mean, us.”

  “I’d love to.” Nisi disappeared into her room. “Let me get my coat,” she said loudly. “Ashes, but it was cold last night; I had to ward my windows. But at least I don’t have Ren’s field duties anymore.” Nisi joined them in the hall with her coat. “You did know he left?”

  “Yes.” Alissa dropped her eyes to hide her flush of guilt. His ribbon lay in her pocket like a guilty secret. She had yet to give it to Kally, not wanting to add to the girl’s grief.

  “No one knows where he went,” Nisi said slowly, “but I can’t say as I blame him.” Her gaze went sad. “Let’s get your coat, and we can eat.”

  Alissa smiled thinly in understanding. “We don’t need to eat in the garden. Unless you want to, of course,” she added.

  Nisi eyed her cautiously. “Redal-Stan said you bruised your tracings at the assembly. That you would be sensitive for a while to the background noise. I tried to visit you, but he wouldn’t let me.” She made a face at Connen-Neute, who didn’t look at all apologetic.

  “I’m fine,” Alissa reassured her. “Redal-Stan gave me a ward to block everything.”

  “Are you sure? He said it was quite serious.”

  “It was.” Alissa adopted a serious pose and steepled her fingers. “Channeling the mental output of fourteen thousand citizens,” she mocked in a low voice, “whipped up to a synchronized frenzy of emotion, could have permanently impaired your ability to communicate.”

  Nisi laughed, not noticing Connen-Neute struggle to smother his chuckle. “Not bad,” Nisi encouraged. “But you need to scowl and harrumph more.” She tossed her coat back into the mess she kept her room in, and they started down the hall.

  “So,” Nisi drawled, giving a nod behind them to where Connen-Neute padded silently along. “Why the shadow?”

  Alissa’s brow furrowed. “He says Redal-Stan told him to stay with me until he’s talking in sentences.”

  Nisi gave her a doubtful look. “Really?”

  “That’s what he said.” Actually, Alissa knew Connen-Neute was baby-sitting her, and it rankled her to no end.

  “Huh.” Nisi slowed until Connen-Neute’s gray-clothed figure was walking between them. “If I may be so bold,” she directed to him. “How many seasons have you?”

  “One hundred and sixteen, Keeper Nisi,” he whispered.

  Alissa smiled at the distress in his voice. Even though Redal-Stan had an ulterior motive for saddling her with him, Connen-Neute would be speaking more today.

  “Huh. Thank you,” Nisi said, and he inclined his head and retreated. Nisi leaned close. “It’s a bit soon, but maybe he’s auditing your instruction.”

  Alissa heard Connen-Neute stumble on the stairs. “Beg your pardon?” she asked.

  The smile on Nisi’s face was one of an amused delight. “You know,” she jostled Alissa’s elbow, “learning how to instruct a Keeper. Before going from a student Master to a teaching one, they audit several Keepers’ training. Until the novelty wears off, they follow the poor unfortunate about,” she nodded behind them, “making a pest of themselves as they try to figure out what’s going through our heads.” Nisi chuckled. “We aren’t supposed to know they’re studying us. But like I said,” she continued. “It’s a shade soon.” She turned slightly. “Isn’t it, Connen-Neute?”

  “Yes,” he said with a sigh.

  Nisi laughed. “Kind of flattering, though.”

  “No,” Alissa said, scowling. “You had it right the first time.”

  Together they rounded the base of the stair and entered the dining hall. Connen-Neute winced at the noise of clinking dishes and loud voices. Alissa’s head throbbed, and she set up her newest ward. Immediately her headache vanished. Nisi peered about, searching for a spot.

  “I’ve eaten already,” came Connen-Neute’s thought. “I’ll wait in the kitchen.”

  “Sorry,” Alissa said, and really meant it. “I’m a Keeper today. You’ll have to verbalize.”

  “Kitchen,” he muttered, frowning as he realized Redal-Stan’s trap, and he slipped away.

  “Great,” Nisi exclaimed. There’s room for two over there.”

  Alissa followed her, smiling at those she recognized, nodding to those she didn’t. The reaction varied from pleased acceptance to wary distrust. Nisi ignored it all, plopping down between an old Keeper who was intently filling his face and a young woman who looked like she was straight from the plains. Alissa sat next to her, thinking she looked like her mother.

  “Cups,” Nisi muttered. “Where are the blessed cups? Ah, there they are,” she said, snagging two and giving Alissa the one not chipped. A Keeper at the end of the table shoved a pot of tea at
them, and Alissa smiled at him, relieved she hadn’t needed to ask.

  “Thanks, Gury,” Nisi said, and he went back to his stinky sausage, eyeing Alissa with furtive glances. The tea was cold as she poured it out, and she warmed it with a quick thought.

  The sharp clatter of forks hitting the table made her jump. “Hey!” someone shouted. “What was that?” The noise in the Keepers’ dining hall cut off, and Alissa shrank into herself, her steaming cup halfway to her lips. Everyone was looking at everyone else, their faces questioning.

  “Ashes, Alissa,” came Connen-Neute’s thought from the kitchen. “We were saving that ward for a bribe.”

  “That was a new resonance,” the man who had given Alissa the tea accused. “Anyone else catch it?”

  There were nods all around. Beside Alissa, Nisi grinned. Gury leaned halfway across the table. “Nisi? Have you learned something you wish to share with us?”

  “Wasn’t me,” she called gaily, rolling her eyes at Alissa.

  Everyone turned, and Alissa flushed. “Um,” she hedged.

  “What does it do?” someone asked eagerly.

  “It’s a warming ward,” she admitted, hoisting her steaming cup. “You didn’t know it?”

  Everyone shook their head. Nisi nearly danced in her chair.

  “My instructor taught me, but . . .” Alissa stammered. It wasn’t her place to impart skills, only acquire them.

  Gury leaned back with a sly grin. “We’ll ask,” he said, confirming Alissa’s feeling it would be a mistake to show them. “Don’t get yourself in trouble. They’ll show us as soon as they get back.” He eyed the table knowingly. “Won’t they?”

  There was a chorus of agreement.

  “Here, Alissa.” Someone topped off her cup. “It’s not often a new ward is discovered.”

  “And even rarer they tell us,” someone else grumbled.

  “Alissa?” someone else called. “Try one of Mav’s pastries.”

  “She doesn’t want that sticky thing,” came a loud voice. “Give the mad, rogue Keeper of the wilds a breakfast worth having. A slab of ham, smothered in gravy.”

  Alissa looked to find smiling, teasing faces all around. A grin stole over her. “No, thank you,” she said over the cheers and jeers at his suggestion, wishing she could bring herself to eat meat just once if only to go along with the fun.

  “Alissa’s from the foothills,” Nisi said. “She has better taste than you, Gury.”

  “Toast would be fine,” Alissa said, scanning the table and finding none.

  “Toast! bellowed a masculine voice. “Mav! We need toast!”

  “It’s fine,” she protested. “I’ll just have eggs.” And she ladled a spoonful on her plate.

  “Nonsense.” Gury snitched his tablemate’s spiced fruit. “You want toast,” he mumbled around his full mouth.

  It got noisy again as she ate, the conversations taking up where they had left off. To Alissa’s thinking there was a new excitement. They had a bone to pick with their respective teachers and were eager for the confrontation. The situation was one she could sympathize with. These were people who would accept her as her own kinsmen would not, and it had taken her a crossed mountain range and almost four hundred years to find them.

  “Here, Alissa,” whispered a lethargic voice.

  It was Kally, and she slid a plate before Alissa and left before Alissa could say thanks. On it was a piece of toast. It was burnt. Alissa’s finger went out to turn it over.

  Both sides.

  She and Nisi stared at it. Slowly Alissa reached for the jam, and Nisi’s mouth twisted. “You’re not going to eat that, are you?”

  Alissa sighed. “After I scrape it.” Some things never changed.

  “Kally can bring you another,” Nisi protested.

  As if speaking her name had conjured her, Kally’s solemn figure appeared at Alissa’s elbow. Her eyes were rimmed in red and her hair was disheveled. “Sorry,” the girl mumbled, barely audible over the noise. “I’ll get you another.”

  Not meeting Alissa’s gaze, she left, the toast nearly sliding off the plate. Nisi and Alissa watched her disappear into the kitchen. “By the Hounds,” Nisi whispered. “She’s got it bad.”

  Alissa swallowed hard. A flush of guilt assailed her, and her fingers went to touch the ribbon carefully wound in her pocket. “Um, Nisi? I’m sorry, but I have to talk to Kally.”

  Nisi set her cup down. “I should’ve known you opened the door for him.”

  “Something like that.” She shifted awkwardly. It wasn’t nice to leave Nisi like this.

  “Go.” Nisi gave her a small wave. “If I’m not here, I’ll be in my room—cleaning it. Take your time. Kally might need a shoulder to cry on. Or someone to yell at.”

  Glad Nisi understood, Alissa smiled her good-bye. Halfway to the kitchen she slowed. What had Nisi meant by “someone to yell at”?

  Alissa’s nose wrinkled at the stench of cooked meat as she entered the kitchen. No wonder Connen-Neute liked it here. She spotted him in the corner, his feet tucked under him as he seriously snitched leftover chicken, ignoring everyone and being ignored in turn. His eyes looked as solemn as an owl’s in his long face. He shrugged and continued his pilfering.

  “Ah, Alissa!” came Mav’s shout. “What can I get for you, dearie?” Her fists slammed into the heavy dough she was working.

  Alissa maneuvered through the busy workers. “Hi, Mavoureen.” She sat on the edge of the table and swung her legs. Kally was alone by the smallest hearth, stirring a pot.

  “It’s good to see you taking your breakfast where you ought,” Mav said as she thumped the dough again. “Sorry about the toast.” The old woman’s gaze followed Alissa’s to Kally. “She had that bread burnt and out to you before I knew what was what. She’s been no use to me these last few days.” Mav cut the dough into identical, fist-sized lumps and arranged them in a pan. “She’s stirring a pot of water, she is. I told her it was tomorrow’s soup. I can’t trust her with anything else.” Mav draped a linen cloth over her dough and set her hands to rest. “What am I going to do with her? She won’t talk to me.”

  Alissa touched Ren’s ribbon, hidden in her pocket. “Maybe I could help.”

  The old woman turned a sorrowful look to Alissa. “If only you could, but I’m afraid her heart has been wounded to the quick. She won’t listen to anyone.”

  Feeling guilty for having waited, Alissa swung her ankles. “I have a message from Ren.”

  Mav’s wrinkles deepened, and she bit her lip. “Well, go ahead. She can’t get worse.”

  At Mav’s encouraging nod, Alissa slid from the table and dodged her way to the relatively empty corner. It was nice having people about, but what she would give to have her quiet kitchen back. Kally looked up, leaning against the hearth as she listlessly stirred a pot.

  “Morning, Alissa.”

  “Kally.” She stood there like an idiot, not knowing how to start.

  Kally smiled weakly. “Mav has me stirring water, pretending it’s soup. Would you like a taste?” She pulled up the spoon and dribbled the water back into the pot. The spoon slipped from her to bob at the surface of the steaming water. “Hounds,” she cursed, then slumped down on a stool. “I can’t even boil water today.”

  Alissa dragged a second stool close and sat down as well. Not knowing what to say, she simply pulled out the ribbon. “Um, Ren gave me this to give to you,” she said lamely.

  Kally stood. Grabbing a new spoon, she violently stirred the pot. Water spilled to hiss on the fire. “Ren? What does he want?” she said a bit too brightly. “Haven’t seen him for days.”

  Miserable, Alissa took the spoon before Kally put the fire out. Turning Kally’s hand over, she put the ribbon in it. “I’m sorry.”

  Anger, followed by hopelessness, flashed over Kally, and she sank down again, her eyes on the length of blue. “He left without saying good-bye,” she whispered, pulling it through her fingers. Her eyes grew hard. “Curse him, he owed me that. W
hy didn’t he even say good-bye?”

  “Because he loves you.” Alissa’s gaze dropped.

  “I don’t care that he didn’t make Keeper again,” she wailed.

  From the corner of her sight, Alissa saw Mav standing motionless, her arms hanging still, helpless. “He knew that,” she said. “But he was woefully misled and ill-used. His pride wouldn’t tolerate it anymore.” Alissa hesitated. “So he left.”

  Kally’s cheeks showed spots of anger. “Just like that,” she said bitterly. She threw the ribbon on the floor.

  “Yes,” Alissa snapped as Kally’s anger sparked hers. “And don’t think it was easy.”

  “You’re defending him!” Kally shouted, and the kitchen help paused. “He ran away, and you’re defending him! You have never lost anyone, have you!” she accused, slamming her spoon to the table. “You have no idea what I feel like.”

  Alissa’s breath caught. “Um, Alissa?” Beast whispered, ignored.

  The kitchen went silent. “Ren,” Alissa said, her back stiff, “asked me to say good-bye for him and that he would miss your breakfasts together. And as for never having lost anyone? I have lost my father, my mother, my teacher, and my—” she stopped, clenching in heartache.

  “Alissa?” Beast whispered.

  Alissa slumped onto the stool, her head in her hands. Wolves. Strell. She had lost Strell.

  “I—I need some potatoes for my soup,” Kally stammered into the silence. There was a soft breeze, and she was gone.

  “Alissa?” came Connen-Neute’s thought.

  “Go away,” she thought miserably, and his comforting presence faded.

  “Alissa?” It was Mav, putting a bird-light hand upon her shoulder.

  “I lost my love,” Alissa whispered. The Navigator burn her to ash. She had lost her love.

  “Alissa, I’m sorry,” Mav said. The kitchen resumed its noise. “Kally didn’t know.”

  “I didn’t handle that very well, did I?” Alissa said. Looking up, she was surprised at the guilt on Mav’s features. “What?” Alissa whispered. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  The lines on Mav’s face deepened. Taking a thick rag, she pushed the pot from the low flames and gazed at nothing. “She would have gone with him but for me,” Mav said.