by S Kaeth
A murmur ran through the crowd. Eian jumped up and down, and Kaemada flung her arms around each of them in turn, beaming. Taunos held her tight, hope rising in him for the first time in a long time. Freedom. Home was so close, and perhaps he’d finally be able to get them there. Nothing else mattered—no tricks of the Kamalti, no twisting of justice, nothing, so long as they could leave.
The Justice raised his hands for quiet. “Further, we will entertain the notion of resuming relations with the outside world, but only on a trial basis with a limited scope. We have much to discuss amongst ourselves, especially in regard to the old agreement. Do we continue to send the lost travellers to this “City of the Lost,” even taking into account the information these Outsiders have provided us? If not, what new solution must we find? These questions will be a high priority in the next Council meetings. Perhaps, in time, we will return to our arrangement of old and walk under the sun—or we may continue our solitude and our order. So shall it be.”
He stepped down and the air filled with thousands of voices raised in conversation. A messenger wound his way through the throng to them, bowing. “The Justices extend their congratulations and their apologies for the difficult time you have had.”
That was an understatement. Now was a time to be civil, though, even if that meant rolling over falsehoods and stretched truth. He’d continue to smile and nod until they were safe under the open sky, away from the traps and stifling pride of the Kamalti.
“Thank you,” Taunos said. “You have our gratitude for the wise and just ruling.”
“Follow me to the mountain entrance. Your people gather again for the festival above. You will please give this message to your leaders so we may move into the Future.” The messenger handed a sealed letter to Taunos. “These are instructions for your leaders to contact ours.”
Dode embraced Ra’ael warmly. “I am pleased I had the opportunity to know you. Farewell.”
Ra’ael smiled, gripping her arms. “Thank you, Dode. Please, watch out for yourself. Walk in peace.”
At least one of them had avoided a terrible experience these last six moons.
As if his thoughts had summoned her, Answer approached, along with three uniformed Scouts, and Taunos stiffened. It was far too eerie a reminder of their first encounter. But Answer smiled and the guards returned their packs and weapons, regardless of their stern expressions.
“Thank you!” Kaemada beamed at Answer, reclaiming her pack.
Answer raised her browridge, her bearing stiff. “It seems evident you people will find weapons whenever and wherever needed.”
Taunos happily armed himself, chuckling when his sister picked up his old cloak and grinned at Eian, wrapping it around him and squeezing him with joy. “You see? Old things.”
“Someone I once knew told me your people are a lovable sort of mad if I let myself.”
“You should listen to that person. He sounds wise.” Taunos grinned, pleased to see Answer flicker a smile in return. He was reluctant to hope much would change, especially so close to freedom. But she had spoken for them. That was a taste of change, at least. Not enough, but it was a start.
“I have not completely forgiven you. But then, I suppose you probably have not completely forgiven me. Let this be a new beginning, shall we?”
Taunos bowed with an exaggerated flourish. “My lady, I’m pleased to meet you. I am Taunos. Or, as my mother used to say when angry with me—”
“—which was at least twice a day—” Takiyah quipped.
“Adeion Denvin Firerel Taunos Sierso.”
“By the Ships, you people have long names!”
Ra’ael muttered something about the superiority of proper Rinaryn names.
“It is a pleasure, Adeio… whatever it was. Taunos. I am Answer.”
Laughter burst from him, amusement relaxing stiff muscles as Answer struggled to hide a smile, then finally gave in to it.
Regaining her composure, she nodded stiffly to them. “Farewell.”
Grinning, he nodded to her, and then she was behind him, and freedom was ahead as he ushered the others on. Once more, they strode through the city accompanied by guards. This time, Rikr and his son ran alongside for a time, whooping. A smattering of cheers sounded from others here and there through the crowd. Not everyone was happy with the verdict—there were several scowls, shouts of derision, and even some rotten food thrown at them—but it was a great deal better than their first parade had been. Some likely blamed them for the attack from the Collective, even though Kaemada’s psionic battle with them had helped turn them back from the city. But none of that mattered. Taunos’s heart rose as the doors grew closer. He cared nothing for Answer’s people making amends—nothing could make up for what they did to Takiyah. All that mattered was finally going home.
They walked up the long stairs to a set of doors, where the Kamalti hastily donned goggles. Once through the doors, their guards scrunched under their layers of clothing, pulling their hats down low. The spring wind had a biting edge to it, but Taunos couldn’t resist stretching a bit, enjoying the wide-open spaces and the feel of the sun on his skin. Finally. Beside him, Kaemada beamed, looking more alive than she had in a long time, clutching Eian’s hand. Taunos stayed near the Scouts, noting Reinan did the same. There was still danger so long as they were there.
The Scouts guided them down a faint trail, nearly invisible among the boulders and slabs of stone. After a time, their guides stopped and pointed down one path. “This way leads to the City of the Lost.” Then they indicated another path. “This way leads to Talahn Valley, where your people gather twice each circulation.”
Kaemada smiled at them. “Thank you for your help.”
Taunos translated and bowed easily, happy to provide them that courtesy now that they were out of the Kamalti’s domain. The Scouts bowed in return and hurried away, back to the safety of their mountains.
Watching them go, Taunos drew in a deep breath. He let it go along with the tension that had strung tight along his shoulders and back.
“Will you come and celebrate the Feast with us?” Kaemada asked Elisabei.
Elisabei laughed. “They did not need me for six winters. I do not need them, either.”
“Oh, Elisabei,” Kaemada started, but Elisabei cut her off.
“No, there is no place for Reinan there, for Reinan was born in the City of the Lost. And where there is no place for my husband, there is no place for me. We would only be considered Fallen. We will return to the City to make something from the ruins of the last king.”
“The Angels,” Kaemada said. “And the guards. Be careful.”
“It will be dangerous,” Taunos said.
“What in life worth having isn’t?” Elisabei replied.
True words, though he’d be happy to stay away from danger for at least a few days. Taunos smiled, nodding.
“The Elders will not like it. You will have to select a Storyteller and join the Council of Elders officially,” Ra’ael said.
Elisabei laughed. “I rather think we might be independent. After all, are we not Fallen?”
Ra’ael frowned, but Elisabei continued. “Besides, there’s much rebuilding to do. We may as well get started.”
Taunos clasped arms with Reinan. “Go well,” he said.
The big man smiled and returned the farewell warmly. Taunos realized how much he would miss them. Still, his heart lifted in anticipation of finally being back among his people. Maybe they could put all this behind them. Just in time to endure the posturing and fit-throwing the Elders would display before allowing them back home.
JAETAN-CHA’A
Chapter Twenty-seven
The Rinaryn Council of Elders is comprised of 57 men, one from each village in Rinara. Most of the Elders are Storytellers, for the Storytellers are often regarded as the most knowledgeable men. On occasion, a man is deemed wiser even than his village Storyteller and so joins the Council.
Council affairs can be chaotic things, as
Elders can interrupt at any time for clarifying questions, often backtracking or jumping forward in the narrative as they do so. After testimony or discussion of a problem, the Elders separate into groups by region. The regions discuss and argue amongst themselves until they come to a unanimous agreement. The regions then come together around the fire for discussion, comments, and a final decision.
-journal excerpt
Ra’ael twirled in a circle, her hands in the air. They were free! And as soon as they got home, everything would be alright again. They could figure out the future together, like always. Taunos’s laughter only made her smile broaden. But Takiyah’s face remained impassive, focused, and Ra’ael’s grin faded. They would need help to make it through the upcoming moons after all they’d been through. Ra’ael would have to make sure the kaetal enveloped them as much as possible, to avoid them withdrawing completely into mind-sickness.
Kaemada stumbled down the path, holding tightly to a squirming Eian. She was clearly exhausted. Ra’ael reached out for the boy and Kaemada withdrew.
“Kaemada, you need a rest.”
She shook her head, refusing to meet her gaze. Like Takiyah, she was focused on her goal.
“Kaemada, let Eian down.”
“No. I will never again take him from the kaetal alone.” She shifted him in her arms, almost clinging to the boy.
Ra’ael grabbed her arm, stepping in front of her to stop her forward momentum. “Rinaryn mothers take their children alone into the wild all the time. Just maybe not on sacred journeys.”
Kaemada’s lips were pressed into a thin, flat line as she shook her head. “Never again.”
“You're not alone, Kaemada.” Ra’ael took her arms, gently peeling them away from Eian and setting him on the ground. She knelt in front of him. “Never, never leave the trail. Do you hear me? You stay with us at all times.”
The boy nodded, and Ra’ael turned her attention back to her friend. Kaemada had wrapped her arms around herself, shivering as if freezing. Her face was taut with worry, her eyes locked on Eian as if she were afraid something would snatch him away, and they’d begin the last six moons all over again.
Ra’ael’s heart ached for her, and she took her hands. “Kaemada, we got him back. He’s safe, and soon we will be with the kaetal again. You no longer have to worry. He’s safe.”
Tears filled Kaemada’s eyes and she shivered even more violently. Ra’ael sighed. Her anxiety was perfectly understandable. She’d lost the song. But Ra’ael was priestess—she could keep the song for her until Kaemada was ready to join in again. She forced a smile and tried for levity.
“Remember when all we had to worry about was the Elders murmuring against Galod?”
“Wait, the Elders were? Not just people in general?” Taunos raised his eyebrows, which were just beginning to grow again.
“Against all Galod’s students, really.” Takiyah kicked a rock.
“Seems so long ago.” Ra’ael shrugged, moving them along. Taunos appeared lost in thought, and Takiyah and Kaemada trudged along, silent and distant once more. She chewed on her lip. She, by herself, could not bring peace to their spirits. She needed the help of Torkae’s priests, and probably the Saimahkae and Storyteller.
Still, she couldn’t let them suffer alone. She linked arms with Kaemada and Taunos, nudging Taunos when he didn’t immediately get the hint. He linked up with Takiyah, and Eian skipped along just ahead of them. As they walked, Ra’ael began the journey songs in time with the beat of their steps on the trail, and Taunos joined in after a bit of a pause. She grinned. She could get used to working with him.
Eventually, the trail dipped, descending into the sacred valley. It was one of three trails from the mountains that ended up here. The noise of the festivities hit them before they saw the green of the valley itself. The rhythm of the drums and rattles, the clapping and stomping, and the pipes, horns, and whistles filled the air. Cheers and conversation and recitation joined the music of the instruments in a festive spirit.
The Seeker Tree stood in the middle of the valley, as it always had, its white bark and silver leaves unchanged summer after summer. It was as old as legend, tall and straight and ageless. Around it stood five basins of water, one for each region of Rinara. Floating candles, all ablaze, crowded the water, honoring the memory of those who had passed over the rim of the sky.
The grass of the valley was littered with tents, and wagons displayed various goods to trade from one kaetal to another. Open areas were decorated with ribbons and banners, and a foot race was just finishing, won by a young man from Dragonmoor, judging by the pattern of his armband. Around the edges, young hopefuls vied to impress masters for apprenticeships. Musicians wandered from one camp to another, performing for each kaetal.
By the time their feet hit the grass of the valley, optimism had filled Ra’ael. They had survived terrible, cruel things and had come out on the other side. The air of celebration was so vibrant that the past six moons seemed like only a bad dream.
First Kaemada, then Taunos, slowed and stopped.
Ra’ael frowned at them, eager to rejoin their people. “What’s wrong?” she asked, as Eian tugged at her hand.
Kaemada shook her head. “They’re not happy to see us.”
“They’re not expecting us,” Ra’ael soothed.
Taunos shook his head as well. “They’re not just surprised. They’re wary.”
“Three psions and the daughter of Torkae’s leaders,” Takiyah said, looking at Ra’ael with concern in her eyes. Kaemada held her weight on the balls of her feet as if she were considering running.
Ra’ael looked over the faces of her people. A sinking feeling snatched at her. They were right. This was going to be trouble. What had she really expected? They’d left the trail.
She straightened her shoulders. Torkae had faced trouble before, and they had always faced it together. The Elders may be unforgiving, but the Storyteller and Saimahkae would stand behind them. Teros… Teros could be made to see reason, and then he could help quell rumors and whisperings. They could still make it through this.
Takiyah broke into a run as soon as they saw the Storyteller and Saimahkae in the camp of Torkae, and Ra’ael let Eian lead her onward. Takiyah was caught up in the embrace of her parents, weeping with joy. Maeren reached out and pulled each of them into an embrace, peppering them with fierce kisses.
“We thought the worst,” the Storyteller said as he kissed their foreheads. “What happened to your face, my dear?”
“I missed you!” Takiyah’s whisper was fierce.
“Six moons! Six moons and no word.” Maeren released Taunos from her embrace and seized Eian.
The Storyteller cleared his throat, taking a step back. “The Council will want to see you as soon as possible.”
Taunos nodded. “We have things that need discussing as well.”
“Until then, say nothing to anyone,” the Storyteller said.
“What’s wrong?” Ra’ael asked. “Have the murmurings grown while we were away?”
Maeren sighed, then gave them a strained smile. She patted Takiyah’s hand, having released the last of them from her embrace. “All will be made clear in time, my dears.”
Taunos scowled, but at least he didn’t say anything. The Storyteller embraced Takiyah again and smiled at them. “I will convene the Council. You will be called when we’re ready.”
Ra’ael nodded, her unease growing as Maeren ushered them over to the side of the valley, away from others. None of the kaetalyn came to greet them, and indeed, Talaera turned her back when she saw them. Others looked at them with suspicion, worry, confusion, or a mixture of the three.
All too soon, Maeren held her hand out to Eian. “Come with me, little one.” Her gaze turned firm as she looked at Ra’ael. “You four must stay here for a time.”
Unease twisted her stomach as Maeren followed Eian, who scampered away ahead of her into the camp of Torkae. A wordless moan escaped Kaemada, and she reached out for h
er son. Ra’ael embraced her, holding tightly and murmuring soothing words to her until Kaemada finally sat back, crumpling. Takiyah’s face looked cut from stone, like a Kamalti statue.
“This is ridiculous.” Rage heated Taunos’s quiet voice. “We deserve to know what’s going on and why we’re set apart.”
He started forward, but Ra’ael grabbed his arm. “Be patient. We will follow tradition. We will follow instructions, and we will hold to the course of honor.”
Taunos shook his head. “No. Trouble is brewing.”
“No need to throw sticks at a toelfa,” Ra’ael said. “The Elders were chosen for a reason. They deserve to be heard.”
Taunos opened his mouth to argue, and she cut him off. “And then—and then, Taunos—then we will tell our tale.”
He turned away, frustrated. Takiyah held her staff in both hands, still statuesque. Kaemada had slumped to the ground, and was staring at Eian, who sat not far off, enthralled by a storytelling contest.
“He loves the stories,” Kaemada whispered.
“He does,” Ra’ael agreed. The sense of foreboding grew within her. Eian was allowed back into the kaetal while they were not. Such a separation paralleled the separation for a Fallen—no one could be Fallen until they had gone on their yah.
She shook her head at herself. That couldn’t be. The Elders would never overreact so greatly.
“I only wanted to help. I tried to keep him safe, but I brought only danger on all of us.”
Ra’ael snatched her shoulders. “Listen to me. Stop taking responsibility that does not belong to you. You made mistakes—we all did. Beating yourself up will not help anyone.”
Kaemada bowed her head, and Ra’ael sat beside her and held her for a while. Words leaked from Kaemada little by little in painful tides. “I’m afraid I can no longer trust my senses. From the hallucinations. And the Collective. Three times they were in my head. And they took me over, Ra’ael. I carry pieces of them. I fought them, and it was like fighting myself. And through it all… I miss Tannevar. I’m missing such a huge part of me, and I have no way of being safe with psionics now. Every door is closed to me.”
