Seeking the Dream

by Marcia J. Bennett

  I have him, Dhalvad, the Tamorlee said.

  You have him? He’s to go with us?

  Too late for him not to, the Tamorlee responded.

  Gi! Dhalvad cried. Can you see the tower, Gi? Answer me!

  The shimmer of air increased and Anwhol lost sight of the four within the Tamorlee’s magnetic embrace. A few seconds later the shimmering light disappeared, leaving him in sole possession of the room. There was no sign of the olvaar.

  The scene that filled Dhalvad’s mind became reality: the open courtyard, the white sandstone tower rising above him, the patterned stone floor at his feet, Amet and Paa-tol to either side of him, and clinging to his tunic front…

  Gi?

  The olvaar’s eyelids opened slowly, then closed. He looked as if he were half asleep.

  Tamorlee, is Gi all right? Dhalvad asked.

  Disoriented but unharmed. He is courageous for so small a being.

  Dhalvad was confused. Tamorlee, I thought only the Ni could mind travel through use of the fire stones

  Anyone who can see and accept the inner vision of a reality not his own can use the energy of the fire stones.

  Dhalvad sensed Amet’s impatience at being held in the link, but he had one more question. Could men also use the fire stones as Seekers do?

  No man has ever tried, but from all I understand of them through contacts with the People, I believe men could use fire stones to travel. It would be an interesting experiment.

  No! Amet exploded. Men shall never have access to the fire stones! They would misuse the power!

  As you do yours? Dhalvad demanded angrily. The words were out before he could suppress them.

  What I do, I do for the good of the People! Amet said, jumping in to defend himself.

  What is it you have done? the Tamorlee asked calmly.

  Nothing! I only used my office as Speaker to convince the Council that we should go in search of Mithdaar and—I persuaded Dhalvad to come by threatening to send his mate and child away from Jjaan-bi. Isn’t that right, Dhalvad?

  If I tell the truth, Dhalvad thought, the Tamorlee will be on my side, but even if we returned to Jjaan-bi, Paa-tol could get there just as quickly, and he knows where Poco is and I don’t. If I go along with Amet, we’re no worse off than we were before. Though Dhalvad was not projecting his thoughts to the others, the crystal sensed something in his hesitation.

  Dhalvad?

  I’ll be honest with you, Tamorlee. I don’t like Amet or Paa-tol. Anyone who threatens to harm innocent people cannot be trusted. Dhalvad stopped there, not quite daring to tell the complete truth but at the same time alerting the crystal to Amet’s dual nature.

  I did use threats, Amet protested, but only after you refused to link with the Tamorlee and help us search for Mithdaar. This find is too important for one person to stand in the way!

  Dhalvad desperately wanted to refute Amet’s statement, but to speak out too vehemently might endanger Poco and Jiam.

  It was wrong to threaten Dhalvad’s family, the Tamorlee said to Artet. You will right this wrong after we have found Mithdaar and return to Jjaan-bi. Agreed?

  Dhalvad sensed the compulsion in the crystal’s words and winced at the mental harshness of the command.

  Agreed, Amet said meekly.

  Dhalvad, the Tamorlee said, its thought impulses softened, I want you with me, but only because you wish to be. Will you stay and help me find my dream brother?

  Yes, Dhalvad answered, knowing that he really had no choice. It seemed that the Tamorlee, for all of its intelligence, was not able to see past the deceptive curtain of righteousness Amet had pulled about himself.

  Good. I am pleased. I release you all now, the Tamorlee said. Go and rest while I listen for my brother.

  The energy that held them all in stasis gradually melted away. The first thing Dhalvad noticed was a draft of cool air blowing in his face. The next thing he felt was the prick of a knife in his side. He turned.

  Paa-tol’s eyes were narrowed with anger. “Try that again and I promise you’ll regret it!”

  Amet slipped free of the ring holding the Tamorlee and put it in his tunic pocket, then wiped his damp forehead and glanced around. The transfer had gone smoothly, but the interrogation by the Tamorlee had left him shaken.

  Several Ni standing well away from the transfer point moved toward them.

  Amet glanced at Paa-tol and motioned for him to put his knife away. “We’ll discuss what happened later,” he growled softly. He looked at Dhalvad and Gi, who was beginning to stir. He turned back to Paa-tol. “Keep watch over them. I’ll take care of our accommodations.”

  “How long will we be here?” Paa-tol asked, putting his knife away.

  “I don’t know. It depends on the Tamorlee.”

  Two older Ni stopped before them, placed their hands palm to palm and touched their fingertips to their lips. “Welcome to Tre-ayjeel,” the one on the right said, offering his cupped hands in greeting. One after the other he took their hands and introduced himself as he moved along. “I am Agnal, and this is my friend Ea-dil.”

  Amet reciprocated, giving his name and introducing the others. Both Ni smiled when Gi-arobi offered his small furred hand and whistled his own form of greeting.

  Ea-dil looked at Dhalvad as he released Gi-arobi’s hand. “The olvaar is far from his homeland.”

  “You have no olvaar here?” Dhalvad asked.

  “We believe they prefer the more temperate climate to the south,” Ea-dil replied. “It’s a pleasure to have one of their kind for a visit, though I’m surprised to learn that they are capable of making a safe mind transfer.”

  “It’s a surprise to us, too,” Amet said. “Really, it was quite accidental. It’s something that will have to be studied by our Seekers.”

  Agnal stepped forward. “Will you require accommodations, or is someone expecting you?”

  “No one is expecting us,” Amet said. “And yes, we’ll need rooms. Two will do. We aren’t sure how long we’ll be staying.”

  A curious expression crossed Agnal’s face as he studied Amet. “Your face is familiar. Should I know you?”

  Amet hesitated. “I’ve been here several times in the past,” he said finally. “Perhaps we’ve met somewhere.”

  Agnal’s eyes grew large in sudden recognition. “Speaker? Yes! It is you! But we had no notice that you were coming here! Is—something wrong?”

  Amet frowned in annoyance, for he had hoped to arrive and leave without any fuss. “No. Nothing’s wrong. I’m here on a very special matter and would appreciate your not announcing my arrival.”

  “Is there anyone you wish to see? Someone I might—”

  “No. No one at the moment. If you’ll just show us to our rooms, we’d like to rest awhile. If there’s anything else we need, we’ll let you know.”

  Agnal nodded. “Please do so. We are yours to command. Ea-dil, the watch is yours.”

  Ea-dil nodded and returned to his post outside the transfer circle as the others followed Agnal through a narrow stone doorway and down a winding staircase. It was common for a watch to be stationed at main transfer points in order to assist arriving Seekers.

  Dhalvad stroked the olvaar as they descended to the lower floors and guest rooms maintained for traveling Seekers. “Gi, are you really all right?”

  Gi patted Dhalvad’s arm. “Gi fine,” he whistled. “Have much to tell.” The olvaar was using his own language, which told Dhalvad that what he had to say was not meant for Paa-tol’s or Amet’s ears.

  “Tell me,” Dhalvad whistled back softly.

  Gi’s golden eyes took in every detail of the halls, rooms, and people they passed. “Gi find room where Poco, baa-bee, and Big Fur held. All gone now. Can’t find. Gi follow their trail but lose it. Watch find Gi. Caaras help Gi escape. Afraid for you alone with Amet. Come to protect you.”

  Dhalvad was distressed to learn that Poco and the other two had been moved, but he did not put such deviousness beyond Amet. “D
id you tell Caaras about Poco and Jiam?”

  “Try to,” Gi said.

  A hand dropped onto Dhalvad’s shoulder. “Enough of that!” Paa-tol hissed. “Speak so I can understand, or shut up, both of you!”

  Dhalvad glared at Paa-tol but tried to hold his anger in check. He hugged Gi a little tighter and rubbed a thumb across the olvaar’s stomach. He would have to quiz Gi about Poco and Jiam when they were alone—if they were ever allowed to be alone.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Gi,” Dhalvad said in trader. “I think you surprised everyone. No one thought olvaar could be Seekers. I’m still not sure what possessed you to touch the crystal. I always thought you were afraid of the fire spirit within the Tamorlee.”

  “More afraid being left behind,” Gi answered in trader.

  Dhalvad was curious. “What was it like for you in transfer?”

  “Like being stuck in hole. No going forward. No going back. All darkness, then see place of light and towers. Want go there.” Gi-arobi cocked his head to one side as he looked up at Dhalvad. “Is gentle voice Tamorlee?”

  Dhalvad smiled at the description. “Yes.”

  “We helping Gentle Voice find Mithdaar?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then Gentle Voice help us find Poco, Jiam, and Big Fur?”

  Dhalvad glanced at Paa-tol who walked to his left listening to everything they said. He looked back at his small friend. “That’s their promise, Gi.” But can we trust them?

  Chapter 13

  BHALDAVIN WOKE TO a not-so-gentle nudge of a foot in the side. He opened his eyes and looked up. Sola stood over him, his malicious grin bringing back all the events of the day before. He sighted Ra-gar sliding to the west and knew that it was late afternoon. He sat up and looked around but saw no sign of Gringers or any of the other prisoners, including Thura.

  Sola reached down and pulled him to his feet. “You’re wanted, Green Hair.”

  Bhaldavin’s head throbbed with pain, and his mouth was so dry that it was difficult to speak. “Where’s my daughter?”

  Sola leered down at him. “That’s my little secret. She’s safe. That’s all you need to know right now.”

  “And the others? Gringers and Aldi?”

  Sola shook him and thrust him forward keeping a handhold on the rope going around Bhaldavin’s chest. “No more questions! Just walk!”

  There were seven or eight Wastelanders standing near the main gate as they approached. One was the man Zojac. Sola stopped Bhaldavin a few paces away from the men.

  Zojac spoke directly to Bhaldavin, his dark eyes intent. “It’s time to see if the rumors we’ve heard about the Green Hair are true. A large swimming lizard has been sighted down at the edge of the lake. We want you to call it out of the water and show us how you can control it. If you can do what you claim, your life will be spared. If you fail, you’ll be cut into small pieces and fed to the creature. Is that clear?”

  Bhaldavin nodded, and the knot of fear that had been with him upon waking slowly dissolved. So they wanted him to prove he could sing draak. Well, that he could do—and more if the opportunity arose. How much freedom would they give him? he wondered as they started down the winding roadway. If he managed to sing a draak close enough, perhaps he could cut into their ranks by using the awesome strength of the draak against them. If he could kill some of them or frighten them away—His thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he remembered Thura. If he failed to destroy them all, if even one got away and managed to return to the mansion, the lives of the other prisoners would be in grave danger.

  His glance touched the hidden entrance to the lake caves halfway around the end of the southern cove. Lil-el, Theon, and all the others who had escaped were sure to be waiting there, perhaps planning some sort of rescue attempt. If he moved too quickly, he might end up thwarting their plans. Then again, they might be waiting for some kind of an opening, a chance for a successful attack. He looked away, fearing to reveal their hiding place by staring at it too long.

  They reached the lakeside about twenty mintues later. Bhaldavin was still undecided about singing the draak to attack the men. Much would depend on the size of the draak seen lurking near the stone pier.

  They all walked out a short distance onto the pier, the men glancing nervously at the water on both sides. It was evident that they had gone about as far as they dared. Zojac signaled for Sola to release Bhaldavin from his ropes.

  As the rope dropped to the pier, Zojac withdrew a small leather bundle from his wide tunic pocket and held it out to Bhaldavin. “Here, this is yours. Gringers said you needed it to control these…”

  “Draak,” Bhaldavin supplied, his frown slipping away as he recognized the leather neck pouch. He had been concentrating so hard on fantasies of killing the men that he had not even missed it. He took the leather pouch and quickly dumped Mithdaar out into his hand. Warmth flooded through him as the crystal greeted him in its own special way.

  Bhaldavin’s head came up, and his glance touched the men surrounding him. Several were frowning; the others looked wary. How many had tried to hold Mithdaar and had been burned for their trouble? he wondered. More than one or two, he thought, judging by the looks he was getting.

  Zojac studied Bhaldavin closely. “It doesn’t burn you when you hold it?”

  “No,” Bhaldavin answered honestly.

  Zojac considered that a moment, then shrugged. “We’ll talk of it later. Now I want you to call in one of these—draak.” He drew a light gun from his pocket. “Any thoughts you might have about escape had best be put aside for your own sake as well as your daughter’s.”

  Bhaldavin turned without a word and moved farther down the pier. Two of the other men also drew light guns. Obviously they were not going to take any chances on his ability to control a draak.

  He tucked the leather pouch into his pocket and held tight to Mithdaar. He did not need the crystal to sing draak, but if pretending meant that he could keep Mithdaar, he would pretend.

  He held Mithdaar to his chest as he glanced out over the water looking for bubbles or ripples, any movement that would indicate a draak in the immediate area. He turned and kept on turning, his glances taking in the western shoreline and a portion of the tiered city that was fast losing its identity to the voracious plant growth that was reclaiming the land.

  Suddenly he saw what he was looking for—a series of ripples on the water not far from shore. He lifted his head and loosed a high-pitched, undulating warble known as nar-donva. He repeated the call, and a few seconds later a dark-gray head broke the surface of the water.

  The draak had a spiny crest rising behind its ears and running down the center of its back; it had a thin, sharp snout, and as it swam closer, its red eyes became visible. It made a strange whuffling sound as it blew water from its nose. Its head rose farther out of the water, revealing its long, thick neck. It was a gray fisher, a large one, common among water draak and useful to the Draak Watch, who had long before learned how to use them to chase schools offish into nets.

  The men on the pier started to back away as the gray fisher approached. All of those who held light guns had them out and were pointing them at the draak as it swam closer to the pier.

  Bhaldavin changed the song to vol-nada, which held the draak in a mesmerized state as it drifted closer and settled next to the pier. Water dripped onto the pier as the draak’s neck and head hung high over Bhaldavin.

  Zojac cursed softly to himself. He could hear the strange melody issuing from Bhaldavin’s lips, but it seemed impossible that such soft sounds could control a creature of such size.

  “Tell him to send it away,” one of the men behind Zojac whispered.

  Zojac cut the man off with a motion of his hand. He drew a deep breath to steady himself as he lowered the gun and studied the Ni whom Gringers had called a draak singer. Though Bhaldavin was small in stature and had but one arm, it was clear that he was master over the great water reptile—which meant that the rumors were true! The green-ha
ired ones could control the fierce predators that had plagued his people since the beginning of time! It was a tremendous find. Possession of such a person alone was worth the journey there. And they had not one, but two, and one a female!

  Zojac’s eyes lighted with the thought of the trade wealth standing out on the stone pier, singing his eerie song. His mind whirled with schemes that would allow him to keep both of the green-haired ones for his tribe. He glanced down at the light gun in his hand. It, too, represented a prize worth trade wealth, but without the strange machines to put the burning light back into the guns, its value was not lasting—unless one chose to stay in the dead city and claim it for his own. He shuddered inwardly at that thought, his ancestors’ teachings too deeply inbred to be ignored.

  Bhaldavin turned to look at the men, all the while softly continuing his song. He had spotted several other swirling motions in the water nearby and realized that if he continued to sing much longer, he would have more than one draak to contend with, which might prove more than he could safely handle. He pointed to one of the telltale ripples in the water and saw Zojac turn to look. The man seemed to understand immediately.

  “Send it away,” Zojac called, keeping his voice low.

  Bhaldavin nodded and once again changed the melody of his song, sending the draak back to the depths of the lake where its dinner awaited it.

  When all signs of the draak had disappeared and the water around the pier was calm but for a wind pattern on the surface, Zojac signaled for Bhaldavin to rejoin them.

  Bhaldavin hesitated, his glance returning to the water. One step and a shallow dive and he could make a bid for freedom, but that would mean abandoning Thura and Gringers.

  Zojac read the hesitation in the Ni’s body and raised his voice. “Come!”

  Bhaldavin saw Zojac raise his light gun. It was aimed at his legs. He had not moved quickly enough. If only he had let thought become action—but he was too late. He walked back toward the men, all thoughts of escape pushed aside for the moment. Before he reached Zojac, he put his hand into his pocket and worked the crystal back into its leather pouch, hoping the men would forget he had it.