Vari's Choices

by Laura Jo Phillips

  “That certainly explains a few things,” Kai said. “She would’ve already spent seven years in isolation by then. Recognizing that she was our berezi and hearing what we planned to do to her must have terrified her.”

  “Between that, and our reclusive behavior this past decade, it’s suddenly no surprise at all that she wouldn’t want us to know she’s our berezi,” Declan said.

  “I’m still not sure why we’re having a physical reaction to her,” Jay said. “The literature on Pher-X indicates that it’s a very effective suppressant.”

  “That may be,” Kai said. “But there’s as much magic as chemistry between a male-set and their destined mate.”

  “And right now she’s surrounded with our magic,” Jay agreed, nodding. “Now that we understand what’s happening to us, and her motivation, what will we do about it?”

  “What are our options?” Kai asked.

  “We have only two choices,” Declan said. “We can reveal what we know, then attempt to convince her that her life would not be spent locked away as she believes. Or, we can allow her to continue with her life and return to ours without telling her we know she’s our berezi. That wouldn’t be a viable option if she weren’t taking the suppressants. As it is our mating fangs remain unaffected, and the moment she’s out of our sight, our physical reaction to her vanishes. It wouldn’t be too difficult for us to walk away.”

  “It might not be physically difficult, but I don’t need my cock or my mating fangs to dictate my emotions,” Kai said with a rare edge of heat in his tone.

  “There is a third choice,” Jay said. “We can take this opportunity to begin building a relationship with her. Get to know her, and let her get to know us.”

  “We only have a week before we reach Jasan and we still don’t know why we’ve been summoned,” Declan said doubtfully. “It’s most likely a new mission, and considering the importance of what we were pulled away from, there’s a good chance it’ll be a dangerous one. What if we convince her to accept us only to leave her for some unknown period of time? She’d probably never forgive us.”

  “It’s a risk, I agree,” Jay said. “But this is our berezi we’re talking about, Declan. We’ve waited all our lives for her. I’m willing to take whatever risk is necessary.”

  “As am I,” Kai said.

  There was a big part of Declan that wanted to err on the side of caution. Neither he nor his brothers handled loss well, and that made him hesitant. But, the truth was that he wanted to try as much as they did. “I agree that we should try to get to know her,” he said finally. “But only if we proceed with caution.”

  Thirteen years earlier…

  Vari sat on the top step of the porch in front of her little house and finished reading the last page of a treatise on Saurian culture and religious dogma. Even though the author had been a bit long winded, she’d still found it to be interesting and, in many respects, insightful. She turned off her reader and set it aside, then leaned her elbows on her knees and tried to decide what to do next.

  Miss Trinity had given her two new dairi throws to practice, but she’d already mastered them. Aunt Aisling had been teaching her how to throw knives which was fun, but she didn’t really feel like doing that, either. She thought of the text books she’d been studying the past couple of months, ticking them off one by one in her mind. The only one she wasn’t finished with was N. Hall and E. Gray, Introduction to Probability Fractals, Functional Iteration, and Chaos Theory. She wrinkled her nose as she thought about it.

  She was naturally curious, had a wide variety of interests, and enjoyed learning. But the main reason she tried to keep herself busy from the moment she awoke in the morning until she fell asleep at night was that it helped pass the time more quickly.

  Unfortunately, math did not make time pass quickly. Just the opposite, in fact. But she only had one chapter left before the exams scheduled to take place in a week. After that, there would be no more math for the whole summer.

  With that in mind she started to reach for her reader again, then paused when she saw a leopard-spotted dracon approaching. Vari smiled, something she didn’t do often. She stepped off the porch and waited for the dracon to land, then ran toward it as it transformed from a ferocious creature into the beloved figure of her godmother. She stopped a few feet away, remembering at the last moment that she couldn’t hug her anymore.

  “Hi Aunt Lari,” she said, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you as well, Vari,” Lariah said. “I’m sorry I can’t hug you any more, though. That makes me feel sad.”

  “It makes me feel sad too,” Vari admitted. “But don’t tell Mom, okay? I don’t like it when she gets upset over me.”

  Lariah started to tell Vari that her mother already knew, but stopped herself at the last moment. “I won’t say anything,” she agreed solemnly. “You look tired.”

  “I’m not sleeping so good I guess.”

  “You guess?” Lariah asked as they walked back to the porch. Vari sat down and picked up the reader so Aunt Lari could sit beside her. There was a long silence, but Lariah was patient.

  “I know why I wake up at night.”

  Lariah’s stomach tightened with sudden worry. Vari had been having night terrors for more than a year now. She’d wake up in the middle of the night screaming and shaking, tears running down her face, sobbing her heart out. But she could never remember why.

  At first everyone thought it was a return of the post-traumatic stress she’d suffered after her experiences with the shadow people. But Vari was adamant that while she didn’t know what was causing the nightmares, she knew what wasn’t causing them and it wasn’t the shadow people.

  “Do you want to tell me?” Lariah asked, though she was almost afraid to know.

  “Yes, I do,” Vari said finally. “It’s not very long.”

  “Okay.”

  “There’s a doorway, but I can’t see through it because it’s so dark. Like there’s nothing but blackness on the other side. There’s blue lights flashing all around me, but the lights don’t shine through the darkness. It stays black and I don’t want to go through it because if I do something really bad will happen. I don’t know what it is, but I know that once it happens, it can never be taken back. But something is dragging me to the doorway and no matter how hard I fight, I can’t stop it. I get almost to the very edge, and then I wake up.” Vari glanced up at Lariah. “Do you think that’s stupid?”

  “Stupid?” Lariah repeated, surprised. “No honey, I don’t think it’s stupid at all. I think it’s terrifying. I’d like you to tell me if the nightmare changes, all right?”

  “You think it means something?”

  “I don’t know,” Lariah said. “Maybe. Now, tell me what else is on your mind, please.”

  Vari fell silent, but Lariah knew she wasn’t trying to avoid her request. She had a complex mind and didn’t always approach things the way other people did. Certainly not as a child would. Lariah had discovered long ago that everything Vari said was relevant, though there were times when it took her as much as two or three days to figure it all out.

  “I read that book Eldar Hamat wrote,” Vari said, staring fixedly at the laces on her sneakers. “The one about Ugaztun and the Narrasti and the Xanti. There’s a whole chapter about you. About Nahoa-Arimas and the prophecies and all of that.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Lariah said. Vari glanced up in time to catch Lariah’s grimace, and nodded her understanding. Aunt Lari didn’t like attention either.

  “Is it all true? What he wrote?”

  “Yes, honey, it’s all true.”

  “Is that why you come to see me all the time?”

  Ah, Lariah thought, understanding. “I come to see you, Vari, because I love you, and because I like spending time with you. But it’s also true that I hoped to help you heal in your mind and heart.”

  “I think I’m all healed now,” Vari said. “It’s just a nightmare. So yo
u don’t have to come all the time anymore.”

  “I don’t come because I have to,” Lariah said. “And I know that you’re much, much better now. So let’s move to a different subject, okay?”

  Vari looked up at her and nodded, her small shoulders relaxing. “What are you studying?” Lariah asked, gesturing to the reader.

  “I wasn’t really studying,” Vari admitted. “I was reading some stuff about the Saurians, but before that I finished Dr. Michael Davis’s book on the Xanti. It was really interesting but I wish he’d finish the rest of the story.”

  “I don’t think there’s any more story to tell,” Lariah said, hiding her sudden tension. “The Xanti are all dead now.”

  “I know,” Vari said. “But I mean about the other people. The ones who helped the Xanti from the beginning.”

  A cold chill traveled slowly down Lariah’s spine. “You’re not talking about the Garakai, are you?”

  “No, the Garakai are good. They didn’t mean to help the Xanti do bad things. They got tricked.”

  “Why do you think other people helped them?”

  “Well, lots of reasons,” Vari said, her forehead creased in thought. “The Xanti asked the Garakai for help, but since they had no technology, how did they know the Garakai were even out there? And how did they learn to work the ships after they killed the Garakai? Didn’t they have to learn to read Garakai first just to know what buttons to push?

  “And who taught them to write? They had no hands, so why did they create a written language that they couldn’t write themselves without a computer when they didn’t have computers before the Garakai came? And why didn’t they tell the people they made into slaves to make the controls for new ships easier for them to use?

  “And how did they make slaves of so many worlds without help? There could never be more than two hundred and fifty thousand Xanti warriors at a time and there’re thousands of planets with sentient populations in the Large Megallanic Cloud. Plus, the Garakai only had the asteroid ship and a couple of small escort ships. The Xanti couldn’t build their own ships, so how did they defeat so many worlds with just a couple of little ships from the Garakai?”

  Vari fell silent for a moment, then said, “They had to have help, Aunt Lari. Don’t you think?”

  Lariah listened to Vari’s questions with a growing sense of disbelief. The child was right, or at least it seemed so to her. It was possible all those questions had been asked and answered and she just didn’t know about it, but she had a feeling they hadn’t. She’d been there, and she remembered how relieved everyone had been to see the end of the Xanti. Any curiosity as to how the Xanti had managed to do all that they’d done had been quelled when the Garakai accepted the responsibility for it.

  “Aunt Lari, did I say something wrong?”

  “Of course not, sweetie,” Lariah said with a warm smile. “You’re just so smart it amazes me sometimes.”

  “Oh,” Vari said, dropping her eyes.

  Lariah set her concerns about the Xanti aside to discuss with her men later. “Tell me what you’re thinking, please.”

  “Everyone thinks I’m so smart, but I’m not,” Vari said in a low voice.

  Lariah’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Why do you think you’re not smart?”

  “Because I’m not,” Vari replied. “Not really.”

  “Vari, you’re eight years old and nearly finished with tenth year studies. We both know that most kids won’t get to that level until they’re twice your age. So I’d like very much to understand what it is that prompts you to say you’re not smart.

  “It’s not me that’s smart,” Vari said. “The Elder Pack did it. Just like they made it easy for me to learn languages and stuff like that.”

  “Did they tell you that?” Lariah asked, hiding her surprise.

  “No, they can’t talk to me. They talk to Pandora.”

  “And she told you that?”

  “No,” Vari said. “Nobody told me but I think it’s true.”

  “Why do you think it’s true?”

  “Because Ria and Bean aren’t as smart as me,” Vari said in a low voice. “They don’t learn things the way I do, and I can do so many things they can’t. We’re supposed to be the same except for our hair, just like other Clan Jasani, but we’re not. I’m different.”

  Lariah thought the matter through carefully. It was true that Vari was off the charts when it came to intelligence, and also true that she was far stronger than her sisters, and could move phenomenally fast. No one knew why, but Lariah was certain that it wasn’t the Eternal Pack’s doing.

  She knew her goddaughter well enough to know that the real issue wasn’t being smart, or even her belief that the Eternal Pack had boosted her intelligence. They were just symptoms of the real problem, whatever it was.

  She sat quietly with Vari for several minutes, both of them watching the last of the spring wildflowers nod in the breeze. When the answer finally came to her she sighed inwardly.

  “It’s not the differences that bother you. You’re just trying to understand the reasons for them.”

  Vari nodded, then shook her head, then sighed and put her eyes back on her shoes.

  “Vari, look at me please.” Vari raised her eyes. “I will never think less of you for being honest with me. You know that, right?”

  “Yes,” Vari replied. “It’s just so…ridiculous.”

  “Ridiculous?”

  “Yeah, like getting upset because there are clouds in the sky, or because the grass is blue. Ridiculous.”

  “I see,” Lariah said thoughtfully. “Well, I promise not to think you’re ridiculous.”

  Vari sighed, knowing her godmother would sit right where she was until she got answers, so there was no sense in fighting it. She looked into Aunt Lari’s eyes and said something she’d never said out loud to anyone before. Not even Pandora.

  “I hate my telepathy, Aunt Lari. I hate every single thing about it.”

  “Because you can’t touch people anymore?” Lariah asked gently.

  “Partly. I’m like a prisoner here. I can’t live at home, I can’t go to school, I can’t go to parties, or go shopping, or visit with friends, or spend time with my sisters and brothers, or do any of the things other people get to do. And now I can’t even hug you or Mom or my Dads or let anyone touch me.

  “I’m going to be stuck here forever so why do I have to be so smart? Why do I have to learn languages or math or anything? Why can’t the Eternal Pack just leave me alone so I can be like other kids?”

  Lariah’s eyes burned with the effort to hold back her tears. She wasn’t surprised by Vari’s feelings. It was the way she spoke about them that was heartbreaking. She didn’t sound angry, or sad, or even frustrated. She sounded calm, almost matter-of-fact.

  “I think you have a lot of really good reasons to be upset, Vari,” Lariah said when she was sure her voice would give no hint of her true emotions. “And I don’t think they’re ridiculous at all.”

  “You don’t?”

  “No, sweetie, I don’t. Not even a little bit. But I think you’re making a mistake in blaming the Eternal Pack.”

  “You don’t think it’s their fault either?”

  “I take it Pandora doesn’t agree with you.”

  “She always takes their side,” Vari said petulantly.

  “I wondered where she was,” Lariah said, trying hard not to smile. Despite everything, Vari is still a little girl, thank the Creators, she thought. “Vari, do you trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you trust your Mom, who is Chosen of the Eternal Pack?”

  “Yes, I trust you both.”

  “I promise you that your differences were not caused by the Eternal Pack. I can’t tell you what did cause them because I don’t know that. I just know it isn’t because of them.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’m Nahoa-Arima, Vari. Sometimes I just know things. Now, I want you to promise to discuss this with your Mom, s
o she can tell you what she knows, and what she thinks. Okay?”

  “Okay, I promise. Aunt Lari, do you know why I’m so different?”

  A sudden memory rose unbidden in Lariah’s mind. A scene from the past that she hadn’t thought of for a long time. One filled with fear and anger and sorrow and death. She blinked, then set the memory aside to think on later.

  “No, I don’t know that, either, sweetie. But one day you’ll find the answer to your questions. I don’t know when, but you will.”

  Vari nodded. She really did trust Aunt Lari, but she was disappointed that she’d have to wait for answers.

  “I want to tell you one of the reasons why I came to visit you today,” Lariah said, changing the subject.

  “Okay,” Vari said, trying to sound interested.

  “You know that Nica sometimes sees things, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “This morning Nica saw that you’ll be able to leave here one day. You’ll be able to go do all the things you’re missing now.”

  Vari’s eyes widened in shock. “When?”

  “She wasn’t sure exactly, but she thinks when you’re a teenager, so it won’t be for a few years yet,” Lariah said. “A new device will be created that’ll help telepaths block incoming thoughts. It won’t work for everyone, but it will work for you.”

  “Thank you for telling me this, Aunt Lari,” she said with just a tiny smile. “Please tell Nica thank you for me, too. This makes me very happy.”

  “You don’t seem very happy,” Lariah noted.

  “I’m a little afraid to believe it completely,” Vari admitted. “And it’ll be hard to wait so long. But it really does make me happy.”

  “I can understand that, but try to remember one thing.”

  “Okay.”

  “Nica is never wrong.”

  Vari’s smile widened. “No, she never is.”

  “Now, what did you have planned for the rest of the day?”

  “I have to finish my math book,” Vari said, wrinkling her nose with distaste. “Exams are next week.”