She had lived most of her twenty-nine years with the knowledge of her half blood. While living among her mother’s people she had kept her racial status a secret, because most men thought of the Ni-lach as their enemies. They would not have given her a chance at life had they known that her father had been Ni. Living among the Ni, she had discovered that prejudice was not a trait possessed by men alone. There were some among the Ni of Jjaan-bi who had made their objections to her presence well known.
She and Dhalvad had spoken about it many times in the past year and had considered alternatives to living in the heart of the largest Ni city on Lach. But with the baby coming, and Dhalvad working on his healing talent, time had slipped by and they had yet to reach a decision about whether to go or stay. If they chose to live among men, Dhalvad would again be forced to disguise his green hair and crystal-gray eyes; if they moved from Jjaan-bi and tried to live among the Ni somewhere else, her light-blue eyes might pass, but not her hair. She shook her head and made a face as she tried to envision herself with black tresses dyed green.
“Something is wrong?” Screech asked, noting the look of distaste on Poco’s face.
Poco shook her head as she heard the door close behind Dhalvad and Amet. “Nothing more than usual, Screech.”
Screech had learned much about men and Ni from Poco and Dhalvad and had come to accept his unconventional life away from the clans of his childhood. In his mind, Poco, Dhalvad, Gi-arobi, and little Jiam had become his radg, or clan, to love and protect against any who would offer them harm in any way. His tufted ears went back flat against his head. “Someone has offered you insult?” he signed.
Poco read anger in his lowered ears and twitching tail and signed as she spoke, reinforcing her words in the derkat’s own language.
“No open insults, my friend, just looks that wish me elsewhere.” She reached up and brushed the fur down one side of his face in a touch meant to soothe. “Relax, Screech, you can’t fight the entire Ni race. Dhal says we must give them time.”
“Hate doesn’t always die with time, my tiyah. It can grow and it can kill if one isn’t careful.”
She tapped a finger lightly on his blunt gray nose. “I was born careful, Screech. Come, let’s finish what you’ve started here and then we’ll look in on Jiam.”
It took Dhalvad and Amet twenty minutes to reach the main tunnel that led into the mountain south of Lake Haddrach. The Ni had long ago learned how to convert natural caves into living quarters and tunnel into rock to create pathways from one habitable cave to another. Most Ni preferred living in the open airy tree homes found scattered along the southeastern edge of the lake, but with so many people wishing to live in and around Jjaan-bi, some had found it much simpler to take up residence within the mountain. There, too, was situated the seat of Ni government, such as it was.
The crystalline life-form known as the Tamorlee was located within the mountain in a special room that provided it with some sunlight and mineral nutrients necessary for its growth and the creation of fire stones, those special shards of crystal that broke off the Tamorlee from time to time. Such shards that were imbued with the same energy inherent in the parent crystal were set in rings and given to those who were to become Seekers.
Dhalvad glanced at Amet, who had been a silent companion on their walk to the caves. Twice he had tried to engage the older Ni in conversation, but Amet’s thoughts were elsewhere, and he had made it evident that he did not wish to talk.
They passed through the large main entrance to the mountain city and threaded their way west through spacious tunnels where workers and merchants went about their daily chores. Some of the tunnels led deep into the mountain; other tunnels wound their way upward and out onto terraced gardens or into small boroughs where homes and shops clung to the side of the mountain.
When they reached the small cavern that housed the Tamorlee, Amet nodded to the two guards staioned outside the door and led Dhalvad inside.
The meter-wide shaft that brought sunlight into the room was on the slanting north wall. Ra-shun was high in the sky, and Ra-gar had just cleared the eastern horizon, so there was more than enough light to see the crystal without the aid of the luminescent fayyal rocks resting in the notched holders around the chamber. The walls of the room were decorated with mosaic stone pictures depicting daily Ni life. There was a star shape cut into the rock floor, and resting in the center of the star in a special hollow sat the Tamorlee, an eye-size crystal that glowed with a warm green light.
Dhalvad followed Amet to the center of the room and stood looking down at the crystal. It had been months since he had last seen the crystal, and as far as he could tell, there was no sign of growth yet; but that was not surprising because the Tamorlee’s growth was usually measured in years rather than months.
Dhalvad walked a reverent circle around the crystal, remembering another time when the Tamorlee had been a huge boulder-sized egg shape, magnificent in its green pulsating light and its awesome power. The current Tamorlee was small but still impressive. Looking on the crystal that had once been the fire stone in his own ring, he marveled at the wondrous bit of nature that had allowed the original Tamorlee to transfer its essence and knowledge into another crystal using himself as the junction. He had become a channel for the crystal-to-crystal exchange without really understanding what was happening, and not until the original crystal shattered had he begun to realize the importance of the part he had played in the exchange. The Tamorlee would have died without his help, and the entire history of the Ni-lach would have been lost. He shuddered even to think of it.
Amet touched his arm. “Are you ready?”
Dhalvad looked at Amet and suddenly felt nervous. Why had the Tamorlee asked for him? Why had it not confided its needs to Amet, who was its Speaker?
“Well?” Amet pressed, his voice grating on Dhalvad’s ears.
Dhalvad knelt on the floor without a word. There was a handprint carved into the stone floor directly in front of the crystal. “I’m ready,” he said, not looking at Amet.
“Set your hand to the carving.”
Dhalvad did so.
“We’ll talk when the Tamorlee has finished with you,” Amet commanded.
Amet’s lips tightened in anger when Dhalvad did not respond. His jealous glance never left Dhalvad as he took a Seeker ring off and walked around the star shape, touching his fire stone to the small indentations at each point. Amet hesitated a moment, then set the ring, crystal down, into the last indentation at the end of the palm print that activated the link between the Tamorlee and whoever had come to gift it with knowledge or memories.
The palm print had been cool to the touch at first, but once the ring was in place, Dhalvad felt a surge of heat race from his fingertips up his arm; it touched his spine at the base of his neck and surged upward into his brain. There was a feeling of heaviness behind his eyes. He began to relax. The cavern floor disappeared in a wave of darkness, and moments later he was being drawn down a long corridor of green light. The green faded to gold, then deep red. Shadows formed and solidified, and Dhalvad saw himself kneeling on the floor, Amet standing behind him outside the star-shaped carving.
Avto, friend, the crystal said mind to mind. It’s been long since we’ve touched.
Dhalvad hesitated. My fault. I’ve been busy learning how to improve my healing skills and… I had nothing of importance to tell you.
A friend listens no matter the content of the conversation, Dhalvad, the crystal chided gently. Would you share your memories with me?
Dhalvad started to say yes, then paused. He did not object to gifting the Tamorlee with certain of his memories of the previous few months, but he was uncomfortable with the knowledge that Amet, as Speaker, would have access to all he gave the crystal. There were special memories that he simply did not wish to share with Amet, such as intimate moments with Poco and Jiam, or the argument he had had with Lurral just a few days ago.
You hesitate, the crystal said. Why?
<
br /> Personal reasons, Dhalvad said evasively.
Amet?
Dhalvad felt a twinge of guilt. How did you know?
I’m very good at guessing. If I told you that your gift memories to me would never be given to Amet, would you then share them with me?
Is that possible? I thought the Speaker could command any knowledge that you possess.
He or she may command, but what they receive is up to me.
You can lie to the Speaker? Dhalvad was aghast. He had believed that the Tamorlee was the perfect historian, unable to speak anything but the truth.
I could lie, but I would not. I have discovered that omission is far easier.
Dhalvad could scarcely believe what he was hearing.
Dhalvad, who am I? the crystal asked.
Surprised by the question, Dhalvad hesitated. You’re the Tamorlee, the One Who Never Forgets, he replied finally.
What am I?
Dhalvad responded cautiously, not sure where the conversation was leading. You’re a crystalline life-form.
My function?
To record history by absorbing the knowledge contained in the fire stones carried by Ni Seekers and to impart that knowledge to the People when asked.
And is that all I am?
Dhalvad did not answer, for he suddenly sensed an aura of sadness welling up around him. The surge of emotion startled him because he had never thought of the crystal as one possessing emotions.
I will tell you something, Dhalvad, the Tamorlee said. Something I have never told anyone else. I have contented myself with living through others for thousands of your years. It is the way I am made. The shards of crystal your people call fire stones are pieces of myself functioning as knowledge gatherers among the People, and through them I have learned and grown, and in all that time not one among the People has ever asked me why I have consented to be your historian.
Consented? Despite growing unease, Dhalvad was curious. If not our historian, what else would you be?
Content in my ignorance perhaps, the Tamorlee responded simply.
I don’t understand.
The knowledge your people have bestowed upon me has stirred a hunger within me, a need that until a few brief days ago I was able to contain in silence.
The Healer within Dhalvad was sensitive to the waves of almost-pain the crystal was projecting. Forgotten in that moment was the fact that his patient was unlike any he had ever healed before. He instinctively sent his awareness outward, searching for the wound to heal. There was a subtle shifting in the shadows around him. The room disappeared, and he was drawn back into the maze of green-and-gold corridors that to him represented the Tamorlee’s mind.
Let me help you, Dhalvad begged. I feel your hurt, but I can’t locate its source.
Invisible arms enfolded him in a strange soothing touch he would never forget. I have chosen well. You are the one I need.
The Tamorlee’s pain receded from his awareness. Need for what? Dhalvad asked.
I need you to carry me to a place I can feel but can’t reach without help, a place that shimmers in my consciousness like those inner visions your people call dreams. I sense this place is far from here, but I can’t tell you how far. I only know that I must go there!
Dhalvad’s mind was spinning. You want me to take you out of Jjaan-bi? Tamorlee, you ask the impossible! As Speaker, Amet would never allow it!
If you were Speaker, would you allow me to leave?
I can’t answer that because I’m not Speaker. Amet is!
Was.
What?
Choosing Amet was a mistake, one I wish to rectify.
You don’t want Amet as Speaker any longer?
No. I want you. I need you!
Dhalvad was so shocked by what he was hearing that he simply could not respond.
Please, the Tamorlee pleaded. I realize full well what I ask of you. It will be difficult, but not impossible.
Making me Speaker won’t solve anything, Dhalvad protested. There’s no way that the Ni will let me walk out of here with you!
Even should I command it?
Dhalvad thought about that for a few moments. It’s possible, I suppose, but somehow I can’t see them letting you leave here. You are too important to Ni racial identity. You’re a legend. The Ni lost you once. I doubt they’d chance losing you a second time.
Then I shall have to leave without their permission.
If I took you from here, I would become a thief in the eyes of the Ni-lach.
Only until we return.
Dhalvad shrank at the thought of making enemies of his newly found friends and jeopardizing all he had worked for since he had come to Jjaan-bi.
You don’t realize what you ask of me, Tamorlee. I’ve been among my people such a short time. I’m just beginning to know them, and I have a family now, a son only six months old. I can’t do it! Please… I’d like to go now.
The Tamorlee was silent.
Dhalvad tried to withdraw from the crystal by willing himself back to a fully conscious state. Nothing happened. He tried again and failed.
Tamorlee? Dhalvad grew uneasy. Why did the crystal not answer him? Could it not understand his needs, his fears? Perhaps it could not, he reasoned. After all, it was not alive in the way he was alive. It was a crystal, without a heart or a soul. Yet it had touched him with pain and sadness akin to emotions he’d shared with many others. But to steal from the People!
Tamorlee? Are you still listening?
I am here.
Are you angry with me?
Disappointed. Not angry.
Relief flickered through Dhalvad’s mind, only to be quickly replaced by guilt. Will you look for another to do as you ask?
If I answer yes, will you betray me to the Speaker?
Dhalvad cringed inwardly at the cold accusation in the Tamorlee’s words, shamed that the crystal would think so little of him. I would never betray you!
Even if my disappearance caused the People great distress?
Dhalvad wanted to say yes, but found he couldn’t. Why was the crystal doing this to him, making him doubt himself, causing him to question his own loyalties?
Tamorlee, what is this all about? What is it that you hope to find somewhere else?
Myself… or another like me.
Another Tamorlee?
Why not? Surely somewhere in this world there could be another of my kind.
Like the fire stones?
Like—but more. The fire stones live but do not grow; they record but do not understand. When I link with them, I am gifted with the knowledge they carry, but it is more than knowledge I seek. I have watched the People, lived with them, and talked to them as I talk to you now. In doing so I have become filled with a need to find others like myself, fire stones who are aware as I am aware.
Dhalvad began to understand what lay behind the pain he had felt emanating from the crystal. It was loneliness, but on such a scale that it made his own fears seem as nothing. You say there’s a place you want to go. Do you hope to find another crystal there?
I’m not sure what I will find. Something calls me, and I must seek it out. Will you help me?
I would like to help, but I have to think about it for a little while.
I will await your answer. Tomorrow perhaps?
Perhaps, Dhalvad replied.
The Tamorlee’s presence withdrew from Dhalvad’s mind, leaving him kneeling on the stone floor, his hand pressed to the stone carving. He sat back on his heels, his insides roiling with the last echoes of the crystal’s pain.
Amet knelt beside Dhalvad, his face mirroring concern. “Are you all right, Dhalvad? You were with the Tamorlee a long time.”
“I’m fine,” Dhalvad answered, his voice husky with emotions not entirely his own.
Amet brushed the tears that wet Dhalvad’s cheeks. “What passed between you and the Tamorlee? What did it want with you?”
Dhalvad pushed to his feet, swayed a moment, then caught his balance a
s Amet reached out to steady him.
“Best not to move too quickly after such a long gifting,” Amet said. “Come. Sit over here a few minutes.”
Dhalvad moved out from under Amet’s hands. “No. Thank you, but I must be going. I promised Poco I’d be back as soon as I could.”
“But you haven’t told me what the Tamorlee wanted!”
Dhalvad met Amet’s glance. “Not now, please. I’ll answer your questions tomorrow.”
Amet suddenly stepped close and grabbed Dhalvad’s arms again. “I have to know now, Dhalvad! It can’t wait!”
Dhalvad heard the panic in Amet’s voice and, startled, pulled back.
Amet’s grip tightened. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what the Tamorlee wanted with you!”
Confusion gave way to anger, and for a few brief seconds Dhalvad was tempted to give Amet the truth he demanded, though he knew full well the shock it would be. But his promise to the Tamorlee held, and he swallowed his anger. He had no doubt that he could wrestle free of Amet’s hold, but that would achieve nothing, not with guards stationed outside the doorway ready to answer Amet’s call. One had already turned to look into the room, alerted to trouble by Amet’s raised voice.
Well, there was more than one way to end such a situation, and under the circumstances, his actions would not be entirely out of place. He closed his eyes, let his head drop forward, and buckled at the knees.
Amet was caught off guard by Dhalvad’s sudden collapse. He took Dhalvad’s weight and let him down to the floor gently. He knelt, checked Dhalvad’s pulse, then called for the guards. Both hurried into the room.
“Varol,” Amet said, catching Dhalvad under the arms, “help me carry him into the waiting room. Naar, go and find Nar-il. Tell him he’s needed.”
“What happened?” Varol asked as he picked up Dhalvad’s legs.
“I think he just fainted,” Amet answered shortly, starting for the doorway. “He was linked with the Tamorlee too long.”
They made Dhalvad comfortable on a padded couch in a small room down the corridor. Amet gave Varol orders to stay with Dhalvad until Nar-il arrived. “I’m going back to see to the Tamorlee.” He paused in the doorway. “I’ll return as soon as I can.”
Seeking the Dream Page 2
