“Are you telling us that the crystal is ill?” she asked.
“Yes, and in pain.”
“Pain?” Tidul echoed instantly, gray eyes wide in surprise.
“Is it in the process of dissolution again?” Chulu asked, dismayed.
“No,” Dhalvad answered quickly. “The transfer of being and knowledge from the original crystal to my fire stone was complete, and there should be no need of another transfer for several thousand years. The illness I’m speaking of is of the mind and soul, not the body.”
A look of confusion passed among the listeners. Dhalvad turned to Amet, hoping that the Speaker might understand what he was about to say.
“Amet, you’ve linked closely with the Tamorlee hundreds of times during the year you’ve been Speaker. In all those times did you ever experience a surge of emotion coming from the Tamorlee, a feeling of sadness or lonliness?”
Amet frowned. “No, I did not. Are you trying to tell us that the Tamorlee is in pain because it’s lonely?”
Dhalvad stiffened at the skepticism in Amet’s voice. “That is precisely what I’m trying to say.”
“You are crazy,” Amet growled. “The Tamorlee is linked with as many as twenty-five Ni a day. There’s no time for it to be lonely. You speak as if it had the same kind of emotions we do. How can—”
“Are you saying that it doesn’t?” Dhalvad demanded. He turned to the others who sat facing him; their expressions were concerned—and uncertain.
“When I linked with the Tamorlee yesterday, the first thing I felt was a well of sadness so deep that it was physically painful. I responded as a Healer, seeking the reason for the pain, and with the help of the crystal I found the pain centered in loneliness, touched off by the crystal’s discovery that another of its kind exists somewhere on Lach.”
Confusion instantly turned to shock at that pronouncement, but before anyone could voice a question, Dhalvad raised his hands for silence.
“Please. Let me finish.” He took a deep breath, gathered his thoughts, and continued. “I’m not sure about all of you, but for as long as I have known about the Tamorlee, I thought of it only as the Ultimate Historian, the Keeper of Ni knowledge, revered by my people for its ability to store truth and wisdom and return it upon demand. Now I know that the Tamorlee is much much more than that. It is a thinking, feeling being who has its own dreams and fears. One of those dreams involved a search for news of its own kind. As long as that search went unrewarded, it was content to be our historian, but now that is changed because it has felt one of its own kind awakening. Don’t ask me how it knows. I cannot tell you. All I know is that it needs our help in finding another of its kind, and it has chosen me to—do whatever I can to help it begin a search.”
“Another crystal,” Chiilana breathed softly, eyes aglow with wonder. “Where is it, Dhalvad? Do you know?”
Dhalvad shook his head. “Neither does the Tamorlee—exactly.”
“If the Tamorlee doesn’t know, how are we to help it?”
“All of our Seekers could be sent out,” Chulu said, excitement shining in his eyes. “If there’s another crystal like the Tamorlee, it must be found and brought back here before it falls into unfriendly hands.”
“The implications of such a find are staggering,” Tidul offered, his own face lit with a feverlike passion. “I admit that I have never actually thought of the Tamorlee as being alive in the sense of having emotions. It’s always just been there to speak to, to ask questions of, to record all aspects of our daily lives. Thinking of it in terms of a living entity or only one of an entire sentient race is a staggering revelation. Chiilana, you are deldar. Have you ever touched upon any of this in your readings?”
“No. This is all a surprise to me, but I agree with you. The discovery of another crystal like the Tamorlee will present a whole new aspect to Seeker knowledge and present us with some very interesting possibilities.”
Throughout the discussion, Amet was strangely silent, and Dhalvad noticed that there was a look on his face that boded trouble. Amet turned and caught Dhalvad’s glance; his frown instantly deepened. He stood up a moment later and, without a word to anyone, moved over toward the star pattern on the floor. His actions brought an abrupt end to the conversation.
Chulu started to rise. “Amet, what are you doing?”
Amet looked straight at Dhalvad. “I think it’s time to verify all that Dhalvad has told us—if we can.” He slipped a fire stone ring from the middle finger of his right hand and walked the pattern of the star, touching the fire stone to the small indentations at each point. He then knelt before the handprint near the Tamorlee, placed his right hand on the imprint, and set the fire stone ring into the last indentation just in front of the palm print, activating the link that would put him in touch with the Tamorlee.
Chulu glanced at Dhalvad, tension visible in every line of his body as Amet knelt with his eyes closed for several minutes. Tidul was frowning, and Chiilana seemed to be holding her breath.
Dhalvad looked briefly at each of those seated with him and then at Amet. Would the Tamorlee back him up? Or would it tactfully evade Amet’s questions?
Amet straightened finally and turned to glare at Dhalvad. “You tell a fine story, Healer, but it seems that you’ve left something out!” Amet stood and approached the circle of Elders, his gaze never leaving Dhalvad’s face. “Suppose you tell us why the Tamorlee won’t respond to a summons.”
As he pushed to his feet, Dhalvad noticed Amet’s clenched fists. The others also rose, as if sensing a confrontation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
“You were the last to link with the Tamorlee!” Amet snarled. “What did you do to it?”
“Do? I did nothing but listen.”
“Then why won’t it answer a summons? Why does it shut me out?”
Dhalvad turned and looked down at the Tamorlee. There was only one way to tell.
“May I try to contact the crystal?” he asked.
“I shouldn’t let you, but…” Amet glanced at the others. One by one they nodded assent. “I guess I have no choice. Go ahead. The pattern is set. All it needs is your hand to seal the link.”
Dhalvad nodded and walked to the place recently vacated by Amet. He knelt, took a deep breath, and released it slowly as he set his hand to the palm print. Nothing happened for a second or two. He began to think that he, too, would be rejected when suddenly he was caught in a whirlwind and sucked into a shimmering green vortex where he was greeted with joy and a wraparound warmth that made him fully a part of the Tamorlee’s consciousness.
Avto, my friend. Welcome back. Have you made a decision?
Dhalvad sensed the crystal’s excitement and expectation and wished he had a better answer to give the crystal. Nothing is decided yet, my friend. You must be patient. I’ve been talking to the Elders, and I’ve told them about your possible discovery of another crystal. I haven’t yet spoken about your request to leave Jjaan-bi. I don’t think they’re going to take it very well.
Then best not to speak about it. We will just leave, you and I together. I don’t think it will take very long to find my brother crystal.
I’ve been thinking about that and about what might happen if I took you from Jjaan-bi. If I use you to travel to other places, what is to prevent other Seekers from following us by drawing on you as a focal point?
It’s possible, the crystal admitted, but risky, as you yourself can testify. Remember when you used your father’s fire stone ring the first few times, how it drew you to me, but not in the present? You almost became locked into the past. A few more hours there and you never would have been able to return to the present. Most Seekers are aware of the pitfalls of traveling blind and won’t take such chances.
Unless they’re desperate, as they will be if you suddenly vanish, Dhalvad pointed out. And that brings me to another thing. You want my help in finding this other crystal, but how are we to do that if neither of us has seen the place we’r
e trying to find?
I sense my dream brother somewhere east and south of us right now. We’ll have to get as close as we can by traveling to reference points already within my sphere of knowledge.
And then?
Then I hope to draw upon my brother’s energy pattern and find him as you first found me.
Dhalvad did not like the sound of that. Tamorlee, you know I want to help you, and I will if I can, but before we go on this search, I think one of the Elders should be told what we’re planning to do.
Who would you tell?
Chulu. He’s become a good friend, and I believe I could convince him of how important this is to you. Chiilana might also listen.
I will trust you to chose others to trust.
Before I break the link, may I ask why you closed everyone out but me?
I feared Amet might not let you link with me again. It was my way of forcing Amet to—
Dhalvad waited a moment, startled by the sudden cessation of thought patterns from the crystal. Tamorlee? Are you still there?
Silence.
Tamorlee? Is something wrong?
A tendril of energy swept up around Dhalvad’s awareness, hugging him close. My brother wakens! Feel him? He grows stronger! Come, Dhalvad! Together we will seek my dream brother! He broadcasts his presence unknowing. Look! He who holds him casts visions like a Seeker!
Chapter 4
BHALDAVIN HELD HIS fire stone up against the sky, the sunlight enhancing the opalescent shimmer of greens and blues as he moved it back and forth. The tingle of energy that came from the exquisite crystal made him feel good inside. He called the fire stone Mithdaar, which in the Ni tongue meant “bold light.”
He brought the crystal down and held it loosely in his hand, ceding to its constant desire for visual images. Such images were gained through a strange kind of rapport that linked him directly to the crystal. Mithdaar literally saw through Bhaldavin’s eyes, experiencing and learning about the world through their symbiotic relationship.
The first time Bhaldavin had touched the crystal it had brought him out of a state of amnesia by unveiling a past that had included the deaths of his parents, the loss of his arm, and slavery. The return of memories long buried had been painful but necessary to cement the link between himself and the crystal. It had been the beginning of a friendship that had grown stronger and stronger through the years.
Bhaldavin sat quietly in front of the weathered wooden gates of the stockade that surrounded the building known as the mansion and gazed down into the lower city of Barl-gan. The crystal, which never tired of “seeing” through his eyes, absorbed the scene with hunger that manifested itself as a white pulsating light spiraling deep with the fire stone.
Barl-gan was built on tiers of rock running up the sides of the mountains called the Guardians. It was a dying city, a mountain stronghold that had been home to the First Men, the Ral-jennob, or Sun Travelers. In recent years the population had drastically declined until it was home to but a handful of their descendants, survivors of the Great Plague that had decimated the city hundreds of years earlier.
Bhaldavin’s glance swept from east to west across vine-covered buildings and tree- and bush-choked roads. Barl-gan, or Barl’s Holding, was also home to his family. He and Lil-el had crossed the dreaded Draak’s Teeth Mountains ten years before along with four rafters bent on proving that Barl-gan did exist. He brushed the stub of his left arm and frowned, recalling the terrible climb and the bitter-cold weather high in the mountains.
It was the western mountains and the great escarpment called the Draak’s Teeth that made them all prisoners in the city. Six months after they had made their successful climb over the Draak’s Teeth and down through a deep gorge in the escarpment, an avalanche had closed off the gorge, sheering off tons of rock halfway down the pass and leaving a vertical wall that defied all attempts at climbing.
The warm season was upon them again, which meant that it was time to make an attempt at finding another route over or around the Draak’s Teeth, a route that would not prove too dangerous for his children. There were three: Thura, age ten, even-tempered and growing daily into the image of her mother; Finnar, age seven, curious and forever getting into trouble; and Kion, named after Bhaldavin’s father, only two years old.
Bhaldavin’s glance shifted to the north. There was forest as far as he could see, and beyond the forest lay the wastelands and the desert. He had seen both and tasted their dangers. Four times in the last ten years he and Lil-el and one or two of their children had tried to find a way back to the Enzaar Sea and home, and four times they had been driven back: once by illness; twice by the Wastelanders, men who had once claimed Barl-gan as their home but who now saw anything emerging from the city as evil; and the last time, three years ago, by a fall that had nearly cost Bhaldavin his life.
His glance shifted down toward the foot of the city and Lake Thessel. The Selvam River began at the northeastern edge of the lake and was connected to the sea by the Niev Chain of Lakes, a ribbonlike waterway that beckoned westward. That was the only way he and Lil-el had not tried, simply because it would take them farther away from the Enzaar Sea rather than closer.
Theon, one of the men who had crossed the Draak’s Teeth with them, was all for trying the water route if he could persuade his friend Gringers to come. He even had a raft built much in the style of the rafters’ boat homes common to the marshlands of Amla-Bagor. Theon had some of the men of Barl-gan working on two more rafts so there would be room enough for everyone to come if they wanted to, which would mean a company of forty-seven, including Bhaldavin’s family.
Numbers might make the difference, Bhaldavin thought. It would be worth a try, providing they could get Gringers to leave the city and all of its mysteries behind.
The gate behind him creaked on unoiled hinges. He turned and saw Gils Watcher, also called Birdfoot, step through the opening. Like many of the men still living in the city, Gils was the product of too much inbreeding. He fared better than some because his three-toed, splayed feet did not prevent him from walking or running, and though he could not speak, his mind was sound. Gils had a large mouth and protruding teeth and a too-large nose, but there was an openness and honesty in his brown eyes that made Bhaldavin trust him.
Gils smiled and let loose with a strange cackling sound, more a greeting than laughter.
Bhaldavin nodded. “Hello, Gils. Did you want something?”
The brown-haired man bobbed and softly thumped his chest with his fist, his sign for Gringers, the head and heart of Barl-gan over the last ten years. He then motioned for Bhaldavin to follow him.
“Gringers wants me?”
Gils nodded and stepped back through the gate. Bhaldavin followed, still holding Mithdaar as he walked toward the large stone building that housed the remaining citizens of Barl-gan. It had been dubbed “the mansion” by Theon years earlier, an apt description of the huge seven-story building with its large doors and windows and its four wind towers rising majestically above the roof.
Bhaldavin caught up with Gils as they reached the steps leading up into the mansion. The inside of the building was lighted by electricity that was produced by the four wind towers. The technology that changed wind to light was something that Bhaldavin did not understand, though Gringers had tried more than once to explain it to him. Gringers seemed to have a knack for understanding the strange tools and machines of the First Men, many of which he had discovered hidden away in locked rooms on the upper floors just below the wind towers. It was Gringers’s dream one day to take all he had learned and return to his people, the rafters, to offer them the knowledge that would ease their day-to-day existence and perhaps eventually return them to the stars. A large dream for one man, Bhaldavin thought, but knowing Gringers’s perseverance, he did not put it past him. Gringers was a leader by nature, and a man possessed of an insatiable curiosity. His friend Theon was a follower, one whose self-interests centered around comfort and gain. Bhaldavin had to sm
ile to himself when he thought of the two men, because they were exact opposites in size as well as in character. Long before he had thought of both men as his enemies; he now considered them his friends.
Bhaldavin and Gils met Kelsan Watcher coming up the steps that led to the infirmary one level belowground. Kelsan greeted his son with a nod and looked beyond him to Bhaldavin.
“Good. He found you. Gringers has need of your crystal. Gils will show you where he’s working.”
Kelsan Watcher had been second in command when Gringers and his small party had discovered Barl-gan, and upon the deaths of the twins who had ruled the city, leadership should have fallen to him. But Kelsan was a wise old man, content to play counsel to whomever the citizens chose for their ruler, and he did not seem to mind in the least that the chosen man was Gringers.
Bhaldavin even suspected that the old man might have pushed to have Gringers chosen, for he had an eye for reading character and instinctively knew where and how best each man could serve the city. For Gringers that service was as leader, while Theon’s service oriented around the protection of the city and its forty-odd inhabitants. Bhaldavin and Lil-el had been chosen as teachers, bringing to the city their knowledge of everything from cooking with wild plants to recounting the history of Ni and men within the Reaches and the territories around the Enzaar Sea. Indeed, through Kelsan’s careful guidance they had each found a useful niche within the small, dying community.
Dying. The word stirred a current of restlessness deep inside and once again Bhaldavin’s thoughts turned to leaving Barl-gan. He had to leave soon, or he would be tied there forever, his own dreams abandoned in service to people who had no blood claims on him.
“Is something wrong, Davin?” Kelsan asked, noting the faraway look in Bhaldavin’s crystal gray eyes.
Bhaldavin looked at the bent-over man whose will alone held the city together. What happens when you die? he wondered. What becomes of Barl’s Holding then?
Seeking the Dream Page 5
