On the Meldon Plain (The Fourline Trilogy Book 2)

by Brondos, Pam

  Nat looked up, her mouth parting slightly before she spoke. “How can a dead Nala connect with anything?”

  “The Sisters never discovered how it works. But we know that unless the Nala’s neural pathway is severed, ending the link between the brain and the gland, the connection remains between the Nala and its victim. Every Sister, no matter what House she comes from, learns the importance of beheading a Nala and severing the neural pathway if she ever comes into significant physical contact with the creature.”

  “Dead is dead,” Nat protested.

  “A Nala may be dead as we understand death, but its remnant and the connection remain unless the neural pathway between the brain and gland are cut,” Barba repeated and frowned. “I’m offering a poor explanation, Natalie. Ethet would provide a better one. It was an area of study for Healing House, not Wisdom House, Sisters.”

  “How does this remnant affect me? How could a dead Nala have a connection with me? I’m not even in Fourline!” She pressed her hands against her temples, feeling like she was about to completely lose control.

  “A secretion must have entered the cut in your shoulder during combat. Based on what you’ve told me of your dreams, the contact was significant enough that you have the Nala’s remnant in you, and so does Soris. The remnant creates a connection that will never go away. I’ll be blunt with you, Natalie: your physical and mental suffering will only increase the longer the remnant stays in you.”

  “And will it get worse for Soris, too?” she asked, suddenly not caring about her own wound.

  “Much worse. We believe active remnant nourishes the venom in a duozi’s body. A duozi with active remnant loses all ability to be . . . well, like Annin. She has some physical attributes of the Nala, but she’s more human than Nala, and she’s free of any connection.” Barba pressed her lips into a thin line. “Soris’ body will constantly fight the venom, until it wears him down and takes over completely.”

  Nat closed her eyes, remembering how Soris transformed into the Nala in her dream space. She pressed her forearms against the sharp metal edge of the counter, tuning out Barba’s voice.

  “. . . regardless of what Ethet does. You must seek her advice. She may have an idea other than—”

  “Other than what, Sister?” Nat forced herself to listen to Barba, feeling sick to her stomach.

  “I think you have to find the Nala you killed and sever the neural tie,” Barba said, confirming Nat’s nightmarish realization.

  “How am I supposed to find its body? I pushed it into a river months ago. It’s probably decaying at the bottom of an ocean right now.” The sick feeling in her stomach was growing stronger.

  “No, the Nala always find their dead.” Barba glanced at the smooth floor with a haunted look on her face.

  “And if I don’t find the body and sever the tie, Soris and I . . . ?”

  Barba took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Natalie, I really am. If we’d known the Nala had grown so brazen and were breaking the terms of the Rim Accord, we would have trained you as all Warrior Sisters are trained.”

  “Sister, this is so far beyond an apology.” Nat pushed the stool away. She stared at the tunnel entrance. Before, when she’d returned to Fourline, the choice had been hers. Now, there was no choice. The vibrations from the tunnel shook under the soles of her shoes.

  “Perhaps, if you give me time, I can think of another solution,” Barba said. But Nat heard the doubt in her voice.

  “And what happens to Soris while you’re doing that?”

  Barba said nothing. She didn’t need to.

  Nat let out a long breath. Minutes passed. She stared at the tunnel entrance, processing Barba’s words, when a strange feeling of relief struck her. At least I finally know what’s wrong with me. She dropped her head and stared at the markings on her arm. And I know what I have to do, even if it is impossible. I owe it to Soris.

  It took her a few moments to muster the courage to say what her mind had already accepted.

  “I don’t have a choice. I’ll go back in, Sister.” She turned and leveled a look at Barba. “But before I go, you’re going to do the one thing you should have done in the first place.”

  Barba tilted her chin to her chest, and her glasses slipped slightly down her nose.

  “You’re going to turn me into a real Warrior Sister.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Done?” Barba asked as she stirred a metal spoon in a cast-iron pot. A delicious smell filled the air.

  Nat flipped the page of the musty-smelling book in front of her. She paused, then set her pencil down next to a sheaf of papers covered with her handwriting. Tapping the edges of the papers together, she flicked her gaze toward Barba’s orb bobbing back and forth on either side of her head. Barba shot an irritated glance in the orb’s direction, and the sphere settled into a slow spin.

  “Done,” Nat said, feeling nervous despite her certainty that she’d answered Barba’s random questions correctly. She’d never written an essay like this before. The correct tactical maneuvers when fighting in the Keyen Mountains, native Fourline plants with poisonous properties, and indicators of the presence of Nala and key elements from the Sisters’ first encounter with the Nala were only some of the topics covered in the thick handwritten stack. She relaxed her cramped hand, still rankled that Barba hadn’t let her use a computer to type the responses.

  She flexed her back, feeling the soreness of her muscles from yesterday’s sparring session. Barba had her training daily with a local tae kwon do instructor Andris had sparred with before his return to Fourline. Each morning, she ran to the trainer’s dojo for two hours of grappling, sparring, and drills before her classes, then squeezed in an hour of rapier and broadsword training with the college fencing instructor Cairn used to train his theater students. Her afternoons were allotted to classes with Barba in the basement of the theater department and her regular classes. Evenings were spent in the laboratory of the costume shop for more lessons and training with Barba.

  The schedule of the past five weeks had been grueling, but her mind and body were strong and healthy. Barba regimented every second of Nat’s day, and Nat was thriving. She glanced at Barba, feeling grateful for the sense of purpose and relief that had settled over her under Barba’s care and instruction. She felt like a fog had lifted from her mind.

  Barba slid onto the bench across from Nat. She placed a china cup and bowl of stew in front of her and motioned for Nat to eat. Nat’s mouth watered.

  “How come you know so much about the Warrior House?” Nat asked, thinking about the lectures and training sessions she’d undergone with Barba. The Sister had even corrected the local martial arts instructor on a mistake in Nat’s defensive techniques. “I thought a Sister’s training was limited to one House.” She blew on a spoonful of the stew.

  “Wisdom House holds my oath, but I was a selector for each House. My assignment required I know the skills necessary for a girl or woman to excel in each House. That, and I trained with the Warrior Sisters when I had a falling out with my Head Sister over my area of study.”

  Nat’s eyes widened and her lips parted in a slight smile. “That sounds intriguing. What were you studying?”

  “Predictions,” Barba said, keeping her eyes fixed on Nat.

  “Predictions? Predicting what, the weather?” Nat joked. Her smile faded when she saw the pensive look on Barba’s face. A moment of silence passed. Nat felt suddenly self-conscious. She set her spoon against the rim of her bowl and wondered if the conversation was leading to another strange test.

  “No, not the weather.” Barba shuffled the pile of papers in front of Nat and shook her head as if changing her mind about something. That was less than subtle, Nat thought as she watched the intense expression on Barba’s face fade away.

  “How do you feel about having chosen the Warrior House over the others?” Barba asked, switching subjects. “With your education, you’re a natural fit for the Healing House.” She brushed a red strand of ha
ir away from her face.

  Nat looked thoughtfully at Barba as she chewed another bite. They’d had this conversation at the beginning of her training, when Barba had explained the path to becoming a Sister. At first Nat had been concerned that training would take months, even years, but Barba had assured her she already possessed many of the necessary skills. What she needed more than anything was knowledge and understanding of the Warrior House and how a Warrior Sister’s actions and decisions were guided by a desire for peace in the face of the ever-present threat of the Nala. Since the formation of the first Houses, the Warrior Sisters’ role had transformed from one of hunting down and killing the Nala to that of ensuring the creatures remained in their territory near the coast as mandated by the Rim Accord. Peace through protection, and more than a share of violence, Nat thought.

  “Well?” Barba prodded. Nat took another bite and considered how to verbalize her reasons for selecting the Warrior House. Every time she pondered the Houses and how each uniquely supported peace in Fourline, she thought of Soris and the impossible task that lay ahead of her.

  “Did it ever seem that the House chose the Sister instead of the Sister choosing the House?” Nat asked. She knew with certainty that she needed to be a Sister from a House whose purpose was to suppress and destroy the Nala.

  “Yes.” Barba cupped her chin in her hand.

  “Well, I guess that’s how I feel about the Warrior House, or being a Warrior Sister, since this isn’t a regular House.” She glanced around the kitchen and thought of the ruins of two Houses she’d seen in Fourline.

  “Not a regular House?” Barba dropped her hand from her chin and a defensive look crept across her face. “Did the original Sisters have some marble monstrosity in which to contemplate the best course for dealing with the Nala, for creating a path to peace?”

  “Of course not,” Nat replied quickly, knowing she’d struck a nerve.

  “Houses became physical places over time, but the core of a House has always been its philosophy and purpose, not some silly physical structure. The best opportunity for training and learning is not dependent on a location, Natalie.” Nat said nothing but felt doubtful. “You disagree?” Barba’s eyes narrowed.

  “I encountered a mix of opinions when I was in Fourline. Soris said it didn’t matter where I trained, but Benedict implied I was less of a Sister because I was from the fringe, not an established House,” she added with a rueful expression.

  “Benedict?” Barba’s brows scrunched together. “Natalie, Benedict’s a snoot. Would it help you to know that he considered my House a fringe House?”

  Nat looked up, surprised. The few people she’d encountered in Fourline who knew Barba held her in the highest regard. Nat had assumed she’d trained and lived in one of the grand Houses destroyed by Mudug.

  “Do you recall the mental map I gave you of the western coast, near the swamps?” Nat nodded, remembering the bleak landscape. “My House was not far from there. It was built high up in a canopy of massive trees and made of wood, grass, and mud, not stone and stained glass. Release your doubt about the location of your training.” Barba’s mouth was set in a firm line.

  Nat glanced around the kitchen and thought of everything she’d learned and mastered under Barba’s instruction. She nodded in agreement.

  “Don’t doubt.” Barba wagged her finger at Nat, then collected the papers. Nat ate the remaining stew as quietly as she could while Barba read her responses.

  “What are the tenets of the Warrior House?” Barba asked suddenly.

  “Strength in mind and body, knowledge of the world around you, and peace through protection. Like the creation of the Houses themselves, all tied to the existence of the Nala.”

  “Exactly.” Barba lifted her chin. “You’ve progressed in your training to achieve each tenet. It’s time for a surprise.” She scooted her bench away from the table and swiftly stood. Nat followed her out of the kitchen to Ethet’s laboratory with a growing sense of anticipation, wondering what new training lay ahead. She felt the usual vibration under the soles of her shoes when she entered the laboratory and looked around. Barba walked over to the stainless-steel counter and gestured to an orb suspended between two discs connected to circular stands.

  “Is that mine?” Nat felt her heart skip a beat.

  “Not yet. Come look.”

  Nat didn’t have to be asked twice. She sprinted toward the counter. Barba turned on the flame of a burner next to the orb. Bubbles rose to the top of the clear liquid suspended in a flask above the burner.

  “How’d you make this?” Nat asked, greedily eyeing the orb.

  Barba looked at her over her glasses. “It’s complicated, Natalie.”

  “I like complicated.” She touched the smooth surface of the sphere and noticed a hole at the top leading to its center.

  “It took me ten years to master the art.”

  “Oh.” Nat’s shoulders dropped.

  “You have a core of understanding, skill, and knowledge that will mature and develop like any Sister’s. If you choose to learn the art of orb construction, it’s highly satisfying, but there are few who have the required patience. All Head Sisters know the skill.”

  “Do I get to do anything to help create it?” she asked with a hint of disappointment. Barba’s orb, which Nat had carried with her through Fourline, continued to amaze her. She’d been looking forward to making one.

  “Of course.”

  “What do I do?” A tingle of excitement shot through Nat.

  Barba retrieved a small pair of clippers from a drawer under the counter. “You need to physically imbue the orb first, then mentally imbue it to seal the connection. Turn your head.” Barba held up the clippers and Nat shrank back. “If you are frightened of a pair of clippers, maybe we need to rethink this entire endeavor.”

  “No,” Nat said quickly and leaned in. She felt a painful pinch in the upper curve of her ear. Barba pressed a piece of gauze against the cut and dropped the cartilage, no bigger than the tip of Nat’s pinky finger, onto a clean cloth. Nat eyed the bit of her ear while Barba taped a small bandage over the gouge. Her hands came away covered with streaks of blood.

  “Ear cuts always bleed, but not as much as scalps,” Barba said and washed her hands under the sink. Nat shuddered, wondering what other body parts Sisters had used to physically imbue orbs.

  “It’s ready when you are. Flesh and breath.” Barba gestured to the opening in the top of Nat’s orb. Nat gingerly picked up the piece of her skin and dropped it into the hole. It landed in the center and marred the bottom with a pink stain.

  “Now breath.” Barba pointed to the opening again and lifted the hot flask with a pair of tongs. Feeling foolish and excited at the same time, Nat leaned over and breathed into the opening. Barba immediately poured the hot liquid into the hole, filling it to the curve. Nat focused on the ball as the liquid cooled and hardened.

  “Don’t strain yourself.” Barba laughed seeing Nat’s red face. “It’s a lifeless ball right now. The connection will come tonight when you mentally imbue it. Find it in your dreams. Then it’s up to you to figure out how to open yourself to it and create the connection. Drink this before bed, it will help.” She handed Nat a vial of clear liquid, then carefully removed the suspended sphere from the vise to place it into Nat’s hands. The orb felt cold in her palms.

  “And if it doesn’t work?” Nat asked with a tremor in her voice.

  “Then you were never meant to be a Sister,” Barba said without hesitation. She turned off the burner. “The ability to know the world around you requires, at its core, an understanding of the self. Share that understanding with your orb.” She paused and took in Nat’s worried expression. “Stop doubting, Natalie. It will happen. Come, I’ll drive you home after I set the protections for the entrance.”

  “Protections?” Nat asked as she retrieved her backpack from the bench and placed the sphere into a zippered slot, tucking her fears away with it. She watched Barba approach a p
anel next to the solid wooden doors.

  “Cairn’s away, and we never leave the entrance unsupervised unless the protections are in place. The Nala may not be able to get through the membrane, but humans can,” she explained and punched a series of keys. Nat nodded, remembering everyone’s lack of concern when she’d told them she’d spied a Nala on the cliff near the membrane.

  “Barba, I’ve never really understood how Annin and Soris passed through if nothing can cross the membrane unless it exists on both sides. Duozi don’t exist in this world.”

  “In their cases it was a matter of balance. Annin’s more human than Nala.” She pressed a few more keys, and Nat felt the vibrations grow stronger. “But even she has to fight to push through. Soris, I’m afraid, is more Nala. When you brought him, he was still human enough to pass through, but crossing over was already difficult. With what Ethet said about the level of venom in him, he’d never be able to cross over if he tried again. The membrane would not give way for him now.”

  The guilt Nat had been trying to suppress about Soris surged forward. She opened her mouth to ask another question about Soris, but stopped as a wall slowly descended over the opening. Barba pressed in another code, and a rocky-looking surface rose up from a slit in the cavern floor and curved around the interior of the tunnel as the wall ground into place. She looked at what was once the mouth of the tunnel in wonder. If she didn’t know better, she’d have no idea what lay on the other side.

  “Cairn’s father’s creation. An impenetrable metal designed to look like rock encases the entire tunnel, sealing it off from this world,” she explained with a serious look in her eyes. “If someone managed to pass through the membrane, all they’d find is a long cavern ending at a wall that looks like stone. The system also activates if an intruder were to try and access this room.”

  Nat ran her hand across the surface of what used to be the opening. The stone seamlessly blended into the surrounding rock wall. “That’s amazing.”

  “Necessary precaution years in the making. Even this room is carved out of the cliff and can be cut off from the rest of the building. My orb watches the entrance when I’m sleeping. If I’m gone, we have enough sensors to let Cairn or whoever else is around know immediately if someone passes in or out. But enough of that. Your focus should be your orb and the long night ahead,” she said with a knowing look.