“Oh,” he sneered, “is it upset about betraying its leader? Where did he get it?”
“I don’t know, I don’t!” she cried.
There were tears, stupid tears. Anger swept through him again, so deep it was hard to contain. What right had Huldar to thwart him? Snooping about in his paperwork, entering his private space uninvited, and now this! It was too much.
“Leave me!” he yelled.
Lind scuttled away like the insect he thought she was. What now, he wondered? How to counter this new threat to his plans? Why had Huldar said nothing? Why had he given the beacon to the diviner? What did she know? Questions, questions, questions – and how could he ask them? If he did, they would know. And if they knew, they would expect him to share, or betray him to the Guild, or both. His life would be over.
With a roar of frustration, he swept his arm across his desk. Papers scattered. A ceramic bust of the God-Emperor flew through the air and shattered against the tent-pole. He picked up his chair and threw it as far as he could. It landed with a thump against his bed.
What am I to do? he raged.
Huldar must know about the eyes, or he would have said something. He was saving the information so he could tell the guild as soon as they got back to the safety of Giahn. All the sideways looks, the veiled threats, the pitying glances … what a fool he’d been! And the diviner. What luck had she bought? Would she and Huldar stand together laughing as all his hope, as his very life was stripped away from him?
He rested his forehead against the tent-pole and tried to think. How can I gain the advantage?
Huldar did not know that he knew. The element of surprise? Duvät clasped the hilt of his knife. He could sneak up on the Lethian at night while he was sleeping … but the death-cry. Where would Huldar’s death-cry go? Who would hear him? His parents were dead, but he had a brother. What if he sent his cry to Arian Leth himself? Everyone knew what a hothead the Leader of House Leth was. He would never sit by if he knew.
Think, Duvät, think!
He could take the diviner as a hostage. Lind could lure her. He would kill her … kill them both if Huldar revealed what he knew. If he could just keep the Lethian quiet until the Faythans were paid! Breath’s Design! It wasn’t fair!
A finger scratched against his door.
“Lord Duvät Gok,” Tam said. “I heard noises. Is everything all right?”
“Of course!” he snapped. “One of those confounded bug things. I thought you people had removed them all.”
“I’m sorry, Overlord. Would you like me to come and remove this one for you?”
Duvät looked at the upturned chair, the remains of the ceramic God-Emperor and the loose papers now littering his floor. “No need,” he said. “This one’s dead.”
Lind
Lind ran from Duvät Gok’s tent and stood trembling before the southern portal. She had to get away, but it took a few moments to steady her emotions to safely sing. As she stepped through, it flashed through her mind that she didn’t know exactly where she had sent herself, but then she recognized a small clearing not far from the healers’ campsite. A few paces from the portal, she slumped to the ground. She could not stop crying. Soon she heard running footsteps and Ubaid kneeled beside her. His mind probed gently. What’s wrong, child?
Lind buried her head in her hands and sobbed. She tried to answer, but no words would come. What had she done? The Overlord’s slap still stung her cheek. Her body would never be clean again, and neither would her soul.
“Lind?” The voice of Alis was soft with kindness and care, but the love the Naghari offered was too far from what she deserved. Some things could never be healed.
“I have to speak to Huldar,” she whispered, her lips thick and numb from crying.
“Here, drink this,” said Alis. “Karientos.”
The astringent aroma brought a fresh wave of tears.
Alis held the pale green liquid closer.
As she accepted, Lind tried to hide the tremor in her hand but her efforts only made it worse. She drank quickly.
“Why do you need to speak to Huldar?” Ubaid said softly. “He is in a relationship with Andel now. I think you should try to accept that.”
“It’s not that!” she cried. “I’ve done something – something he should know about.”
“Can it wait?” Ubaid said. “Your voice holds too much emotion. You should not try to sing through any more portals until you have regained some calm.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Alis agreed. “You should wait until you are feeling better. If the notes are wrong you could get lost, end up anywhere … or worse.”
“Or let one of us take you?” Ubaid added.
“No! It’s personal.”
The healers exchanged a glance. Ubaid’s understanding expression was exasperating.
“But not in that way!” she cried, or was it? If only he had loved her! Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. The calming effects of the karientos seeped through her mind, but her eyes still wept. She struggled to her feet. At any moment the Overlord might descend upon Huldar’s camp, yelling and screaming, demanding answers because of what she had told him. She had to get there first.
“I have to tell him everything …”
“Lind, wait!” Ubaid called, “Do you even know the way?”
Lind stepped into the portal despite Ubaid’s warning. Her senses dulled momentarily as the planetary network engaged with her, asking where she wanted to go. Now was the time for the notes to be sung. There was no need to voice them loudly, just a whisper would do, but as she opened her lips she realized Ubaid had been correct and she was not sure. Her voice faltered. She tried to redirect her song to the campsite, but with a sudden wrench the barely tamed energy took her in its grip.
She felt pounding pressure against her eardrums, but there was no noise. Colors flashed past then faded into white. Just white. She waited, but nothing changed. No exit appeared. What if it never let her go? She had heard this could happen – how the unwary or unschooled could be caught in Qalān and never seen again. It was thought they died a lingering death of hunger and thirst, their soul trapped forever beyond the Breath.
“Let me go!” she screamed.
The sound made Qalān jump. It shook her like a predator shakes fresh prey. She had to calm down. She had to think. Would another song work if she sang it now?
With a hesitant voice she started to sing the notes for the encampment on the desert plains. The portal gave a violent lurch but there was no release. Heavy sobs bubbled from her chest. She stared in desperation at a thousand shades of white. She tried to beat her fists against it but there was nothing solid to impact upon. When she collapsed, there was no sensation of landing, no feeling of location. She hugged her knees and rocked back and forth. This was the first lesson any child ever learned about portals: never to use one unless you are certain that you know the song of your destination and can sing it fluently. This was why emotional control was so important. Why hadn’t she listened?
Qalān was outside their everyday dimension. No one could hear her call and no one could ever find her. It was impossible, even if they tried. Empty bonds, the connections of her life, flapped free. She cried again in hopeless sobs while Qalān bucked and shook, uncaring.
.
HULDAR
Huldar paused in his work and focused inward, listening intently. Gento and Nachiel exchanged a glance and waited.
“What is it?” Nachiel asked.
“Message from Ubaid,” Huldar replied. “Lind’s on her way here.”
“On her way here?” Nachiel scratched his head. “Why is she coming here?”
Gento rolled his eyes. “What, are you Sari now, repeating everything?
“Don’t be nasty!” Nachiel said. “You love Sari. We all do.”
“He didn’t say,” Huldar went on. “Only that she was upset about something.”
“Hmm, well. She’s been upset about something since … for months now. Nothing y
ou can do about that. You won’t let it come between you and Lady Andel, will you?”
Huldar frowned. “I don’t see how that’s –”
“You must be the luckiest person alive,” Nachiel said. “Lady Andel? She’s so pretty, and clever and, oh! Did I tell you –”
“For Breath’s sake!” said Gento. “Don’t you ever stop nattering on? A whole planet and I’m stuck here with you!”
Huldar paid their bickering little heed; tempers were often short at the tail end of an assignment. He was more concerned with Lind’s imminent arrival and finding out what had upset her. In Ubaid’s message he had seen her crying. The last time he had seen Lind cry like that was when Joumelät Enna had died.
With a soft sigh, he returned to his work. Whatever Lind had to say, he would deal with it when she arrived.
He stared at the six-winged creature lying supine in his hand, temporarily stunned by a well-placed song. It wasn’t insectile, mammalian, or even reptilian. He moved it to and fro to get a closer look. Its body was covered in flattened hairs, almost like leaves, yet soft and pliant. How did it coordinate its flight? Did all six wings move independently? With careful fingertips he took hold of one wing and moved it up and down.
The creature stiffened and stabbed down with its mouth parts. Huldar gasped with pain. He dumped the strange beast in the open box at his feet and sucked the side of his palm. A quick inner scan showed no toxins, but he was angry with himself for letting his guard down.
Nachiel laughed and shared a glance with Gento. “Perhaps his mind’s not on the job!”
He shook it off the bright red blood that beaded from the wound and accepted the wad of spider silk Gento fished from their first-aid kit. The creature in the box buzzed its wings as if to fly off, no doubt quite satisfied with the quality of its defenses, but Huldar released a minute blast of sound that stunned it again.
“Not so fast, my touchy little friend,” he murmured, and picked it up once more.
The afternoon wore on and Lind had not arrived.
“Probably gone off somewhere by herself … she does that when she’s upset,” Nachiel said.
Huldar nodded. “Sometimes.”
“She’ll be here when she’s ready, won’t she Gento?”
The Rukh groaned. “How would I know? She’d probably get here quicker if she thought she’d get a word in around your flapping mouth!”
As if on cue, an icy breeze whiffled through the trees. “I think we should finish up for the day,” Huldar said.
Nachiel made a face at Gento. “Oh no! Your turn to cook,” he said waspishly. “If Lind knew that, she’d make certain she didn’t turn up till tomorrow!”
“Enough!” Huldar snapped. “Let’s go.”
Gento glared down at Nachiel. “I’ll make sure you get a double helping then.”
“I said, enough!”
Gento grunted. Nachiel closed his mouth.
“Lind will get here when she does,” Huldar said, “and if she’s upset, I doubt your squabbling will help.”
They returned to their tent and retired early to bed. Around them, the once luxuriant vegetation had started to feel the chill. The tap and rustle of brown-edged leaves was constant. Fruits and seeds loaded the branches of some plants, while others withdrew into the soil and rocks.
Andel brushed his mind with an affectionate caress, but she was exhausted and did not linger.
Images of Lind swam in his thoughts, but the familiar sense of her presence would not come.
If she needs a little privacy to work through her feelings, he thought, I might only make things worse if I contact her. He prided himself on his ability to hear and disentangle even the most complex of planetary songs, so how had he not known the depth of her attachment for him. How could it be that he had not heard her song? Yet Andel of Trianog wove music through his being in a way he could not ignore. It was less than a day since he’d seen her, but already his longing was an ache in his heart.
Next morning, the dim light of the newly risen sun shone weakly through translucent panels in the top of his tent. His breath made small clouds in front of his face. The familiar scent of little attar drifted from the campfire, but a quick scan told him Lind was still absent. Something was wrong.
He rolled out of bed and dressed quickly. Nachiel greeted him with a bowl of porridge and a mug of sweet tea.
Gento looked at him expectantly.
“You and Nachiel examine the fruits of these trees.” He shared some images. “Notes and drawings. Tell me what’s feeding from them.” He washed down a mouthful of porridge with a swig of tea. “I’m going to visit Ubaid.”
Nachiel shrugged. “She’s probably still off sulking somewhere. You know how she is.”
“No,” Huldar said. “I can’t sense her. She doesn’t answer when I call. I don’t know what to think.”
Gento and Nachiel looked at each other. Dead?
Huldar didn’t know how to answer. That he could not connect with her at all worried him very much. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe she’s just too far away to hear me.”
“She can’t be dead,” Nachiel said. “And it’s mean of you to say so! She’s too careful. And there are no predators here.”
“Not that we’ve found,” said Huldar.
Nachiel waved his bowl toward Gento. “Now you sound like him!”
“I don’t know!” Huldar said. “She could be unconscious somewhere, or it could be that she’s hiding for some reason, or … Alis and Ubaid. They were the last to see her.”
“She has been very sad,” Gento said slowly. “I hope the call of the Breath has not overwhelmed … but no. She loves us; we love her. She would never –”
“No! No!” Nachiel backed away. “She wouldn’t do that. Whatever her problems were, the Uri’madu are her family! She would send her death-cry to us. She’s just lost!”
“Peace, Nachiel,” Huldar soothed. “I am worried, but I don’t think she’s dead. I’ll tell you as soon as I find her.”
He drank the last of his tea and headed for the healers’ camp.
Ubaid and Alis ushered him into their tent.
“Yes, she was quite upset,” Ubaid said. “I asked her to wait until she’d calmed down – gave her a mild sedative, but she wouldn’t stay.”
“Do you know why she was in such a state?” He paused. “I don’t mean to pry, but it could help me understand, and maybe help me find her.”
Ubaid’s gaze was penetrating. “I don’t think it was you,” the healer said. “I can see that the thought worries you, but no, it was something more.”
Huldar sighed, surprised at the level of relief Ubaid’s words gave him. “Then what?”
Alis leaned forward. “We have come to believe that her lasting sadness has another cause, but she won’t take us into her confidence.”
“Could it be an illness?” Huldar suggested. “Something she ate? A poison?”
Ubaid frowned in thought. “It’s possible, of course.”
“You are healers.” His tone was sharp. “Surely you would know?”
The Naghari glanced at each other. “It may have been something the Overlord said,” Ubaid admitted. “I glimpsed his face on the surface of her mind, and she had a welt on her cheek.”
“A hand-shaped welt,” said Alis quietly.
“The Overlord?” Huldar looked in the direction of their base-camp, where he knew Duvät to be. Perhaps that was why she had been so determined to talk, but although the Overlord was detestable, he found it hard to believe he was capable of such violence.
“When we left camp, Lind stayed behind,” Ubaid said.
“She was going to gather supplies then follow us,” Alis added. “Maybe Tam or Arko will know something.”
Outside, it had started to rain. Huldar pulled his hood over his head and trudged toward the portal. Back at base the sun strobed through racing clouds, and although the rain had not yet arrived, he could smell it in the air. Tam was inside the marquee as usu
al, reading by the cookfire. Arko was nearby, snoozing on a bed of plush cushions.
“Nice to see you hard at work!”
Arko woke with a start. “I have been!” he stammered. “The day-packs and kits are all checked, the supply packs and emergency supplies are all in order. I was just resting my eyes.”
“Lind is missing,” Huldar growled. “Do you remember when you saw her last?”
“She was having a cup of dar with Lady Andel and Sari,” Tam answered.
“After that, she was in the supply tent,” Arko said. “Gathered supplies for the healers and left.”
Huldar nodded. “She made it to there but left soon after. They said she was upset.”
“She was fine when she left the marquee,” Tam said. “Better than she’s been for a while. No offense, Lord Huldar.”
“Arko?”
“She seemed a bit flustered. Stuffed the stores into Qalān – jars and such … maybe a little anxious, but I thought it was because she was in a hurry.”
“Did she see the Overlord?” Huldar asked.
“The Overlord?” Tam and Arko shook their heads. “There were noises in his tent,” Tam said. “I went to find out if he was all right.”
“Thumping and such,” Arko added.
Tam frowned. “He said there was a crawler and he’d killed it, poor thing. I didn’t stay. The Gok disgusts me. Why he didn’t just call us to catch it, I don’t know. I offered, but it was too late.”
“No sign of Lind?”
The two shook their heads. Tam shared his memory of the noises he had investigated, and it did sound as if Duvät Gok had been chasing something. There were no other voices or sounds of a struggle, but that was not conclusive evidence that Lind had not been there. It could have been that she was too frightened to make a sound, and her terror well screened. Something had caused her distress, and the only other person in camp at the time had been Duvät Gok.
The first drops of rain had begun to spatter the path as Huldar scratched on the Overlord’s door. “A word, Duvät Gok, if you please.”
“What is it?”
“Lind is missing,” Huldar said. He waited, and eventually the door-flap parted. The Overlord scowled into the weather.
Planet Walkers Page 19
