She touched them. From the times I have killed. The she reached out and took his hand, turning it over to examine the jagged scar that ran the length of his wrist.
“From the time I refused to kill,” he whispered.
“But you are the Ydrel.” She replied in a whisper, but because of her touch, he felt her confusion, so strong it hurt: An oracle, an angel, she could understand. But a man, teaching her war and refusing to kill?
His stomach twisted with her suspicion.
I don’t understand this any better than you! He jerked his hand away. His resolve crumbled in his need—her need—to make her understand. Tasmae, I didn’t know what I was doing. You asked questions, I gave answers. It wasn’t until my birthday that—
You refused my questions. She finished his thought.
And I found out what you really were. I still don’t know what all of this means. I swear, if I knew—if I had a hint—I’d share it with you.
He felt a clutch of fear and knew it was hers. You do not know, but Gardianju does.
Who?
Her surprise hit him like an electric shock, bringing with it a fury of information. What are you?
Images and emotions strobed into his mind, confusing him. He fought to think past them. Deryl. The Ydrel. But I don’t remember…Who is Gardianju? Another Miscria?
She pulled away from him, psychically as well as physically. He gasped at the sudden emptiness.
I must experience her Remembrance. You may not see me for several days.
She released her hair from the clip and swam away, her long black tresses moving in sinuous waves. He leaned back against the wall of the pool, fighting to catch his breath as the knowledge she’d passed to him played in his mind.
Gardianju! Another Miscria—who had been in contact with him. Gardianju, the first Miscria.
Gardianju, who went insane and died over five thousand years ago.
Chapter 8
Deryl rose from the pool and went to change, his head swimming with confusion and his stomach queasy. He noted with relief that Ocapo had taken Joshua somewhere, and that someone had left fresh clothes for him. He pulled the pants drawstring tight and slipped on the shirt, not bothering to tuck it in, and headed to one of the observation “nests,” where he could pick apart the tangled ball of information that had wrapped itself around the name “Gardianju.”
He didn’t remember Gardianju. He didn’t remember any of the Miscria besides Tasmae. Their Callings had followed the same pattern: pull him from consciousness and instill in him a compulsion to learn something, transmit the information, and wait for the next Calling. Only after Joshua suggested he stand up to this mysterious Miscria, had he discovered “it” was Tasmae.
Tasmae wasn’t the first. I knew that, he scolded himself after he’d navigated the narrow hall to the open platform that overhung the compound. The view was stunning, and he wished he could distract himself with it. Elbows on the low wall, he buried his face in his hands and closed his eyes. Besides, no one could have put all my suggestions in place in five years. The medics, the weaponry, the fortresses. But five thousand years?
Yet after his operation when he’d forced her out of his mind, blocked her altogether, she had turned right around to Call him again. Hours for her, but over a week for him.
Time is relative and irrelevant. The Calls must come based on need.
He took a deep breath, making himself relax as the information unknotted in his mind. Gardianju, the first Miscria. Generations followed, but not all spoke to him. Most spent their talent holding the world together.
But what does that mean? He shook his head.
Most held the world together, but when Kanaan had great need, the Ydrel blessed the Miscria with its presence, gave it knowledge—to save lives, to protect the Kanaan, to fight the invaders.
The compulsion comes when Barin shows itself in the sky. When Barin outshines the moons, the Ydrel retreats and the Miscria…
The Miscria what? Tasmae, what? Deryl dug his fingers into his hair and pulled, trying to concentrate.
Pain. Madness. Raging at the invading planet. Drawing strength from others, like psychic vampirism.
No.
Plants, animals, people fall around them.
No, please, no!
One thought consumes.
Please! Stop it!
GO AWAY!
“Deryl, you all right?”
“No!” Deryl shouted and spun, pushing with his mind. His eyes flew open.
Joshua had staggered and grabbed the low wall to regain his balance. “Hey! Deryl, what is it? Are you all right?”
“I, I’m not sure.” He fought to control his breath. “I—”
“Well, get it together,” Joshua hissed and jerked his head toward the young man just coming through the door. “Someone wants to meet you.”
“Right,” he said, running his hands through his hair, brushing off the last of the visions. He had to be missing something. He took a breath, made sure his shields were in place, and greeted Ocapo with the same salute Tasmae had given him.
Ocapo rushed to him and enveloped him in a hug.
All the fearful memories of Gardianju and the other Miscrias were washed away in waves of gratitude, and new images filled his mind. Ocapo’s people, the Bondfriends, alone, too few to defend themselves against the Barin, but doomed to be apart from the Kanaan. Until the Ydrel taught Tasmae how they could help.
Tasmae coming into his village, speaking to his chiefs. As she outlines her plans for the Bondfriends, the excitement grows, and others gather around the fire. A few, like Ocapo, are chosen to join the Kanaan in the fight against the invaders; in return, the Kanaan armies would defend the tribes. Trust grows between the two peoples.
Ydrel, you saved my people. You’ve returned us to our brothers. Ocapo squeezed him.
Deryl looked over Ocapo’s shoulder at Joshua.
Joshua grinned. “Nice to know someone appreciates you, huh?”
Deryl found himself grinning back; still, the credit went to Tasmae, not him, and he told Ocapo so. Ocapo released him with an unembarrassed grin.
“Each Miscria learns something different from the Ydrel,” the Bondfriend said aloud for Joshua’s benefit. “But if it had not been for you, Tasmae would not have thought to come to us.”
“Okay.” Deryl shrugged. He didn’t know what else to say. He desperately wanted a few minutes alone with his own thoughts to get his bearings, but didn’t think that would happen anytime soon. At least for the moment, he was with someone friendly to him, friendly and non-threatening.
Joshua moved over to the wall and looked out. He whistled. “That is some view. Ocapo, is that an actual, like active, volcano?” He pointed to a mountain that had a reddish glow.
Ocapo followed his gaze and nodded. “There are many in this area. This mountain is one.”
“What?” Both humans shouted together.
Ocapo laughed. “Tasmae has taken care of it. Its fires lie dormant, waiting for her command. We have more earthquakes now, but she takes care of those.”
Joshua turned to face them, leaning on one elbow on the low wall. “Okay. Someone needs to explain this.”
Deryl said, “That’s the primary talent of the Miscrias. They control weather.”
“Weather,” Joshua repeated. “Like earthquakes and volcanoes?”
“Rain, too,” Ocapo said. “When the Barins come, she will shroud the Maze in fog.”
“How?” Joshua started, then shook his head. “Never mind. I don’t think you could explain it. But for the whole planet? I can’t even imagine how much power that would take.”
“What happened to ‘faith the size of a mustard seed?’” Deryl quipped, but a horrible idea struck him. Ocapo, he teleped, how do the Miscrias die? Do they ever give all their life energy to Kanaan?
Ocapo responded with a psychic shrug. He only knew children’s stories about Kanaan’s Caretaker.
Joshua had taken his barb seriously. “Do you think it could be that easy? Hey!” He laughed as a green everyn with yellow streaks on its cheek crests landed on his shoulder. “There you are. Deryl, meet Cochise.”
“Cochise, eh?” Deryl reached out to touch the creature, and tried to hide his surprise that it was settling itself comfortably on his friend.
“Yeah, he likes me. Probably because I gave him a cool name. Tasmae named Ocapo’s ‘Spot.’”
“SPOT?” Deryl asked, turning to the mottled dragon now perched on Ocapo.
“MM-hmm,” Joshua said, scratching Cochise under the chin. “So Cochise is named for a warrior, while poor Spot is named—“
“SPOT: Satellite Probatoire d’Observation de la Terre,” Deryl whispered. This was Tasmae’s solution to his suggestion?
Joshua dropped his hand. “She named him after a French satellite?”
“Better than a lame dog’s name like you were thinking. I must have told Tasmae about aerial observation…” He closed his eyes, remembering. He’d been reading about the history of air power. The Miscria hadn’t asked him about it specifically, but so much modern warfare strategy depended on commanding the skies, and that had gotten him interested in satellites. But that was last Spring, and Ocapo said she had come to his people two years ago.
“We taught her, as well,” Ocapo said. “The Barins do not understand about the Greater Beasts, so they consider the everyn and the…wolves?...mere animals. That means, they can wander around the battlefields or even the compounds, part of the scenery, and spy.”
“That’s brilliant,” Deryl said.
“It has saved our tribes more than once. Sometimes, a group or commander will ‘adopt’ a Bondfriend as its mascot.”
“So they think they’ve got a pet, when in fact, they’ve got a spy.” Joshua snickered.
“Or a chaperone,” Deryl said, with a pointed look at Cochise.
“Know what? If it makes people more comfortable, I’m cool with it.” Joshua scratched the little dragon lizard behind the cheek crests. It turned its head into the caress and trilled.
Ocapo smiled, and Deryl felt relief emanate from him. “I am pleased to hear that, friend Joshua! So, my work is complete for now. I hope we shall meet again.” He bowed and left.
Joshua watched him until the door folded shut behind him. “Okay, then! Speaking of purpose, you and Tasmae figure out why we’re here?”
Deryl sighed as he joined him by the low wall. The maze Ocapo spoke of stretched to the horizon—forests, some glimmering, some a deep and lush green, flowery meadows, and a tangle of deep valleys. To the right, a mountain range, including Joshua’s volcano, created a jagged line against the sky. How long had it been since he’d seen a view that didn’t end in manicured trees “hiding” A stone wall and the threat of restraints should he try to scale it? Would anyone stop him if he took off across the compound now?
“I don’t know. I’m not even sure we talked about it.”
“What does that mean?”
He could run through the gate and out to the meadow. How far would he get? He couldn’t remember what it felt like to run in something other than a circle. “I don’t know. Leinad thinks the answers might be in the Remembrance.”
Run and run.
“What’s that?”
Deryl pulled himself from his fantasy. He shifted to face Joshua, wondering how far he could push his friend’s credulity. “It’s a plant, that, um, psychically stores memories.”
As expected, Joshua crossed his arms and leaned back. Cochise gave a disgruntled chirrup and left his shoulders to perch on the wall. “You’re kidding? So, what? She has to go ask this plant about its memories?”
“Actually, it stores the memories of another Kanaan. She’ll psychically link with the plant and re-experience those memories.” The answer came smoothly, though he hadn’t realized he’d known it. It must have been in the tangle Tasmae had given him when they’d touched. What had she taken from him, then? He suppressed a shiver.
Joshua gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “And the memories of some dead guy are going to help us how?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay,” Joshua rubbed his temples before speaking again. “She’s obviously not going to relive someone’s whole life. How long will this take?”
“I don’t know!” However, more of the images were coming together, and his anxiety grew as they did.
“Well, what do you know?” Joshua snapped.
“She’s scared!” Deryl snapped back. “Remembrances can be dangerous—and this one is the worst of all. And it’s all my fault!”
“What?”
Deryl buried his head in his hands, grabbing his hair and pulling as the last thread of knowledge revealed itself to him. “Gardianju was the first Miscria. The first to contact me. And I drove her insane.”
Joshua gripped his shoulders. “Are you sure?” He hissed.
“I don’t know,” Deryl moaned. “This is Tasmae’s knowledge—what she shared with me—and I don’t think she’s thought about it this way.”
“Which is my point about experiencing someone’s memories, anyway! Listen: if you’re not sure, then calm down before you freak someone out. Don’t make assumptions, especially ones that will get us into more trouble. Let’s just figure out what will satisfy them as to our ‘purpose,’ so we can get out of here. Okay? Deryl, look at me.”
At Joshua’s strong voice, Deryl let out a shaky sigh and met his friend’s gaze. Joshua held it, his own breathing slow and relaxed, and emanating a confidence Deryl knew he didn’t feel. Still, Deryl began to calm.
Joshua released him. “Better. So, you’ve been teaching Taz strategy, right? What if she’s just totally missing something important? Something that could help them win the war? If you figure that out and set them straight, that could fulfill your purpose, right?”
Deryl shrugged. It made sense. “But what about you?”
Joshua rolled his eyes. “Who else is going to keep you on track? Shall we try?” Josh held out his hand.
Deryl shook it. Joshua was right—especially about his needing his friend to keep him focused. “So, I should go find Salgoud, offer my services? Want to come?”
Joshua grimaced. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do less, actually. Unless you need me, of course, but I’d be a fifth wheel. Is there a salle around here?”
“A salle?”
“Yeah. You know, a big empty room, where you can practice sword fighting? Usually has mirrors?”
“I know what a salle is.” Deryl huffed. “What do you want one for?”
“Well,” Joshua said as he stretched, “I’m totally keyed up, and regardless of what we just said, I have nothing to do but worry. I thought a workout could distract me, and I’m assuming there’s no weight room? Besides, whether you get me back right before my audition or right after we left, I promised Rique I’d have a routine ready. I figured an empty salle would be a good place to practice.”
“Oh. Right, okay.” Once again, he envied his friend’s ability to take control of a situation, even of his own fear. He pushed that thought aside and reached out with his senses. “There are two, and the small one doesn’t get used much. Cochise can lead you, and I’ll find Salgoud, if that’s okay?”
Joshua looked at the everyn, who raised its head and stretched its wings with a large flap. “Sounds like a plan. Look, Deryl, we’re going to be stuck here awhile. Lighten up and enjoy yourself. You’ve spent most of your life locked up with people telling you what to do and hardly anything under your control. But here, you’re the Ydrel. Even if you don’t want to buy the oracle routine, you’ve got skills, and you’ve got a fresh start. Enjoy it.”
“Seriousl
y?”
Joshua shrugged. “It can’t hurt. Besides, it’s pretty clear to me that if you keep spinning yourself up, you’re going to send out a signal that you aren’t the Great and Powerful Ydrel. That could get us both killed.”
Chapter 9
Deryl tried to find a comfortable seat on the log without looking like he was squirming. He hadn’t thought his “fresh start” would include roughing it, but Salgoud had sent a warrior to his room with a uniform and instructions to meet him at the unicorn fields. The outfit fit like a wetsuit, but proved surprisingly comfortable while riding to where the warriors had set up for their next exercise. He’d spent the day observing their maneuvers until the sun had set, and the “kills” were racked up and a winner declared. Now, he sat around a campfire with Salgoud and his aides as they awaited his assessment.
He looked around at the circle of people who were focused on him. Salgoud, the equivalent of commander-in-chief of the world’s army, peeled a piece of fruit with his dagger. The firelight played off the scars on his face. Despite his fearsome appearance and Joshua’s misgivings, Deryl felt most comfortable around him. He seemed confident in his ability, yet ready to listen to what Deryl had to say. Ocapo eyed Deryl with barely restrained hero-worship. At first, he’d enjoyed it, but now it made him almost as nervous as the expectant, dubious looks of Salgoud’s staff did.
Anything he said, anything important, they would relay, in perfect detail, to the rest of the warriors. Should he say anything stupid…
No pressure, he thought.
They watched and waited. Their expectation grew. He couldn’t even stall by filling his mouth with food.
He shut his eyes and thought about the battle. They were definitely missing something, something obvious. He focused on the cliffs. Why weren’t they utilizing these?
He heard a snort from one of the commanders. Apparently, some expressions were universal.
Fine. He had a better idea, too. He showed them his sight of the battlefield, all the people in red. He showed them from Spot’s eyes—red and red among the green. Then he showed them Spot sitting in a tree, his mottled pattern blending. He concluded with the memories of a veteran who had spent time at SK-Mental, and how their battle dress uniforms with the mottled greens and browns let them blend into the scenery.
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