Seeking the Dream

by Marcia J. Bennett

  As Dhalvad closed his eyes and entered his healing trance, Paa-tol slipped the Tamorlee from Amet’s ring hand and put it in his own pocket.

  “What happened below?” Lil-el asked Paa-tol.

  Paa-tol stood up, turning slightly to include everyone in his sight. “The Barl-ganians have been driven back, but they made a good account of themselves and have cut the number of Wastelanders by half. The Wastelanders still outnumber us, but the odds are better.”

  He looked at Bhaldavin. “You must be Little Fish. “ He turned to Gringers. “And you are?”

  “Gringers.”

  Paa-tol glanced down at the bodies of the two Wastelanders. “It looks as if you’ve been busy up here. What happened?”

  “I was using the crystal to try to rid myself of my guards,” Gringers answered. “I was showing them one of the machines built by the First Men. I’d planned on just scaring them, but something went wrong and a ball of light flashed out, catching them full force. We were all within touching distance. I just happened to be the last in line. Your friend saved my life just a little while ago. Lil-el says he’s a Healer. I’ve heard about them, but they were long gone from our part of Amla-Bagor when I was still a boy.”

  “You’re a rafter?” Paa-tol asked, eyebrows arched in question.

  Gringers nodded.

  “You’re a long way from home.”

  “I know. Now, my turn for a question. Would you mind telling me how you just got here? And how you three got over the Draak’s Teeth?”

  Paa-tol shook his head, refusing to answer Gringers’s questions.

  Lil-el frowned, not happy with Paa-tol’s manner. “They’re Seekers, Gringers. They use the crystals to travel from place to place. Dhavad can tell you—”

  “Enough!” Paa-tol snapped at her. “They don’t need to know anything about the crystals—or how we use them!”

  Bhaldavin stood a bit straighter, his arm going around Lil-el. “Gringers is our friend and deserves a civil answer to his questions.”

  Paa-tol snorted. “He may be your friend, but he’s not mine!”

  Dhalvad sighed deeply as he came out of his trance. He had checked Amet over thoroughly and had found a small clot of blood in his brain. He had dissolved the clot and repaired the damaged blood vessel, allowing the blood to flow freely once more.

  “How is he?” Paa-tol asked as Dhalvad sat back, bracing himself by his arms.

  “He’ll be all right,” Dhalvad answered.

  “How soon before he wakes?”

  “I don’t know. A few minutes, an hour perhaps.”

  “We can’t wait,” Paa-tol said. “We’ll have to carry him.”

  “You carry him,” Gringers said rudely, moving over to Dhalvad. “We’ll help the Healer.”

  Dhalvad gratefully accepted a hand up and nodded thanks to Gringers as the man moved in to support him around the waist.

  “Dhalvad, are you all right?” Lil-el asked worriedly, pointedly ignoring Paa-tol’s struggle to get Amet up into his arms.

  “I’m just tired. All I need is rest,” Dhalvad replied.

  “I think we could all use a little of that,” Gringers said, starting down the stairs.

  Gi-arobi whistled agreement and bounded ahead of Gringers and Dhalvad. Lil-el, Bhaldavin, and Thura came next, followed by Paa-tol carrying Amet.

  Theon looked up as they came down the steps. Placing a finger to his lips, he carefully closed the door to the steps leading down into the mansion. “There’s someone moving around below. I think it’ll be safer if we take the outside stairs down to…” His words trailed off as Paa-tol appeared on the stairs carrying Amet. “Where’d he come from?”

  “Don’t ask me,” Gringers said. “One minute he wasn’t there, the next, he was. Lil-el said he’s a Seeker.”

  “That again,” Theon said, stepping back as Lil-el and Thura reached the bottom of the steps. “Oh well, I guess it doesn’t really matter right now. Let’s get going. We can talk later.”

  They filed out onto the roof and followed Theon to the outside stairs leading down to the kitchens five floors below. Theon went first and was ten steps down when a flash of laser light shot up from below.

  “Up! Up!” he yelled, whirling on the steps and climbing up as fast as he could.

  Gringers and Dhalvad had just stepped out onto the stairs when Theon yelled. They ducked back and fell to the roof. A second or two later Theon threw himself up over the edge and lay panting for breath. Gringers took the light gun from him and carefully peered over the ledge. He saw two shadowy figures on the stairs below and shot a beam of light down in their direction. It missed its target but sent the two Wastelanders scuttling back down to cover.

  “Come on,” Theon cried. “We’ll have to try the other way down.”

  Everyone followed but Gringers, who stayed by the roof edge keeping watch. Theon stepped back into the tower room and carefully opened the door leading downstairs. He listened for a few moments, then started down. He was halfway down the steps when Zojac and another Wastelander suddenly appeared, charging out of one of the rooms down the hall.

  Theon only had his knife, and not being suicidal, he darted back up the steps, the Wastelanders right behind him. Paa-tol dropped Amet, and as Theon slipped through the doorway, he and Dhalvad slammed the door and put their combined weight against it. Theon slapped the bolt into place.

  “It’ll hold them, but not for long,” Theon growled.

  The Wastelanders began hammering on the door just as Gringers stepped in from the roof. “I was just coming. Problems?”

  “Understatement,” Theon muttered darkly. “It looks like whichever way we go, we’re going to have to fight our way down.”

  Lil-el looked at Dhalvad. “Could you use your powers as Seekers, you and Paa-tol, to get us out of here?”

  Dhalvad shook his head. “To my knowledge, no man has ever teleported using fire stone energy. You saw what it did to the two Wastelanders above. The men would be taking a great chance traveling as Seekers do.”

  “Well, it’s either that or wait up here for the Wastelanders,” Gringers said. “And the mood they’re in now, I doubt they’ll be taking prisoners this time.”

  “No one is going anywhere until Amet wakes up,” Paa-tol said. “We have one light gun. I suggest we return to the tower room where they can come at us only one at a time. Perhaps we can wait them out.”

  “I hate to admit it, but I agree with Paa-tol,” Dhalvad said. “I’m so tired right now that I don’t think I could use the crystal even to save myself. It would be foolish to take a chance with anyone else’s life.”

  Bhaldavin looked into Dhalvad’s eyes and for an instant he saw his father looking back at him. You gave your life for me once, he thought. I’ll not let you do it again. “As soon as you’ve recovered your strength,” he said, “you must leave, with or without us.”

  Dhalvad caught his brother’s arm. “I couldn’t do that now, not after finding you. Don’t worry, we’ll find a way down even if we have to fight. Who knows, we might even be able to break through. Paa-tol said that the Wastelanders’ ranks had been cut in half.”

  Amet groaned and rolled over. Paa-tol knelt and helped him sit up. “Are you all right?”

  “I’ve got a headache, but I’ll live.” Amet’s glance found Bhaldavin and beyond him, Gringers.

  “That is Little Fish,” Paa-tol said, giving Amet a hand up, “and Gringers.” When Amet turned toward the pounding on the door, Paa-tol asked, “Are you up to a transfer?”

  Amet rubbed his head. “I don’t think so. My head still hurts and it’s hard to think. The last thing I remember is joining the link with him,” he said, indicating Bhaldavin. “There were voices in the link, and—lights that wanted something from us.”

  Amet looked down at his ring hand. “The Tamorlee—it’s gone!” His glance caught Bhaldavin. “What have you done with it? Where is it?” he demanded.

  “He hasn’t got it,” Paa-tol said, reaching into h
is pocket. “I have. I took it for safekeeping while you were unconscious.”

  Amet snatched the ring from Paa-tol and glared at him. “What about the other crystal?”

  Paa-tol looked at Bhaldavin. “He has it, I think.”

  “My name is Amet. I’m Speaker for the Tamorlee,” Amet began, addressing Bhaldavin. “I was brought here by—”

  “There’s no time for this!” Theon cried, pushing in between Paa-tol and Gringers. “The Wastelanders are going to break in here any minute, and we’ve got to get ready for them! Gringers, let me have the light gun! I’ll guard the door while you get everyone upstairs!”

  Gringers nodded and handed Theon the light gun, but before anyone could move, a shrill whistle erupted from Gi-arobi. Everyone turned to see the olvaar crouched in the doorway leading out onto the roof. It was light outside and growing lighter by the second, yet it was still night.

  Dhalvad was the first to the doorway. The others pushed up behind him. The first thing they saw was a handful of Wastelanders scurrying away, all headed back toward the outside stairway. One by one they quickly disappeared over the edge of the roof.

  Gi-arobi ran out onto the roof cluttering wildly. His whistles came so fast that Dhalvad lost half of what he was saying. He stepped outside and looked up just as a large globe of light glided over the top of the towers.

  “Amet! Bhaldavin!” he cried. “Everyone get out here!”

  Gringers and Thura were the first outside, followed closely by Bhaldavin and Lil-el, then Amet and Paa-tol.

  “Where are you going?” Theon yelled from inside. “No! This way! Up into the tower! Gringers? Damn it, wait for me!”

  The last through the doorway, Theon pushed past Amet and Paa-tol and started toward Gringers. He had one glimpse of the globe of light dropping slowly toward the roof, then the crash of splintering wood came from inside the tower. He turned, the light gun held out and ready to use.

  “Everyone down!”

  Paa-tol was the first to react. He lunged for Amet and pulled him out of the line of fire just as Theon pressed the button on the light gun.

  Theon killed the first Wastelander through the door, missed the second, and got the third. The one he missed charged straight at Gringers and Lil-el. Gringers stiff-armed Lil-el out of the way, dodged the Wastelander’s knife thrust, and kicked out at the man’s legs as he charged past. The man lost his balance and fell. Gringers threw himself onto the man’s back as he was starting to rise, slamming him to the roof. He grabbed two fistfuls of hair and smashed the man’s face into the roof, once, twice, and again.

  Theon saw five more Wastelanders pushing out the door; the one in the lead, a heavyset man, held a light gun pointed at Gringers’s back.

  “Gringers! Down!” Theon yelled as a beam of laser fire went past Gringers’s head, barely missing him. Theon pressed the button on his own light gun and fired an arc of light that burned across the legs of three of the five Wastelanders. The heavyset man fell, bellowing in pain. As the other two scrambled back to the safety of the tower, the big man rolled over and came up on an elbow, firing his gun at Theon.

  Theon saw his danger too late. The beam of burning light caught him chest high.

  “No!” Gringers screamed as Theon crumpled forward. He was in motion before Theon hit the roof. He threw himself past Lil-el, rolled toward Theon’s body, and scooped up the gun.

  Zojac realigned his light gun, aiming for the small cluster of Ni crouched just beyond the man he had killed. Gringers didn’t hesitate. He held the button down and poured a steady line of searing fire straight at Zojac. The remaining Wastelanders scrambled toward the tower doorway as Zojac’s body became a pyre.

  Lil-el moved forward and kicked Zojac’s gun out away from the burning body while Gringers got up and went to Theon. Dhalvad was already there, but there were certain things that even the greatest of Healers could not undo. Theon was dead, his chest half eaten away by laser fire. Gringers knelt at Theon’s side and took one of his hands. It was still warm to the touch. He brought the hand to his lips, then set it down, tears blurring his vision.

  Paa-tol and Amet got up, their attention divided between the dead on the roof and the glowing sphere of light that hovered ten or so meters above the roof.

  “What is it?” Paa-tol asked Amet.

  Amet’s gaze was fixed on the object in a way that made a chill skitter down Paa-tol’s spine. He glanced at a sudden blaze of light coming from Amet’s ring hand.

  “The crystal!” he cried softly. “Amet! Look at it!”

  Amet saw the Tamorlee glowing brightly. Suddenly memories came flooding back, voices, feelings. He knew what the globe of light was. “They’ve come! They want the crystals!”

  Dhalvad looked from Amet to his brother, who also stood staring at the globe, clutching something in his hand. Lil-el and Thura stood to either side of him. Both looked frightened.

  Dhalvad moved closer. “Bhaldavin?”

  Lil-el turned. “He doesn’t hear us! He’s linked with his crystal again! Can you help?”

  Dhalvad could see the green light coming through the cracks in Bhaldavin’s fingers. He had never linked directly with Mithdaar, but for his brother’s sake, he was willing to try.

  Gi whistle-clicked in excitement and climbed up Dhalvad’s right side, his pinprick claws startling Dhalvad. “Look! Look! Something comes!”

  Gringers turned and saw the light globe. He stood up, his friend’s death pushed aside for the moment. A smaller ball of light detached itself from the larger one. His heart raced as the globe of light drifted toward Amet and Paa-tol, who began backing away.

  Gringers glanced around, assured himself that the Wastelanders had given up for the moment, and moved several steps closer, curiosity drawing him like a magnet. He was versed in all the legends of the First Men as told by the Barl-ganians, and he began to think about Bhaldavin’s crystal and the machine he had put it in. The possibility that somehow they had actually contacted the gods of the First Men made him tingle with excitement.

  The globe of light came to a stop a short distance from Bhaldavin. It hovered several handspans from the roof and bobbled slightly as if something were moving inside it. Slowly the ball of light grew in length until it was almost as tall as Gringers. As they all watched, the light took on form. They could see a body and a head shape, then legs and arms, all wrapped in glowing light.

  Please, do not fear us. We will not harm you.

  The words had no sound, but were understood by everyone there, including Gi-arobi.

  “Like Gentle Voice, Dhal. Be friend?” Gi-arobi piped up.

  Dhalvad cut him off with an abrupt chopping motion of the hand as more words entered his mind. We were called to your world by a Chensaan Gatherer. A unique event.

  “Are you the gods of the First Men?” The words were out of Gringers’s mouth before he thought.

  Your question is irrelevant.

  “Well, I think it’s relevant!” Gringers growled. “Who are you? Where do you come from?”

  Features began to come into focus on the light creature. There appeared a thin slit where a mouth might be, and a pair of large round eyes that seemed too large for the head.

  We are called Elay. Our home world is Onari.

  “Do you know of the First Men? They, too, come from another world,” Gringers persisted.

  We would have to consult the Archives to answer your question. First, we would speak to the Gatherers.

  To everyone’s astonishment, the single globe of light separated and became two light creatures. Both had piercing amber eyes, and though they looked alike, there were subtle differences in the glowing nimbi of light surrounding them. The second light figure appeared taller than the first, the arms and legs more slender. If they wore clothes, the garments could not be seen past the light. Both moved with fluid grace, the first toward Bhaldavin, the second toward Amet.

  Amet’s eyes grew round in alarm. “Don’t let them have the crystal!” he cried. “They
mean to take them away!” Amet watched in horror as Bhaldavin calmly set his crystal in the outstretched hand of the smaller Elay. “No!” he screamed, starting toward Bhaldavin.

  Paa-tol caught his arm. “It’s too late, Amet! We’ve lost it!”

  The second light creature drew closer to Amet, its hand also outstretched. The glowing light around its hand diminished to a point where its golden skin and four long fingers were completely visible.

  “I’m leaving, Amet,” Paa-tol snapped as he looked down into his fire stone ring. “Meet you back in Jjaan-bi!”

  In that instant, Amet realized that Paa-tol was right.

  They had lost the second crystal, but with luck they could hang onto the Tamorlee. He looked down into the depths of his crystal and envisioned the main transfer point in Jjaan-bi. A shimmering field of energy surrounded him a second later, and he ruthlessly overrode the Tamorlee’s shriek of protest as he drew upon its energy.

  The Tamorlee doesn’t realize its danger, he thought. If he had let the Elay have the crystal, they would have taken it back to wherever they came from. It would have been lost to the Ni forever, with no chance for retrieval. He could not let that happen! He could not!

  He felt the crystal’s probing thoughts as it tried to form a stronger link with him, but he would not allow that, because with such a bond the Tamorlee might gain control—and that would mean a return to Barl-gan and the Elay. He knew that as well as he knew what he had to do when he reached Jjaan-bi. Mithdaar was lost to them, as was Dhalvad, who was without a way back to Jjaan-bi. He and Paa-tol would have to dream up a cover story for their loss of Mithdaar and find a way to silence Pocalina-fel-Jamba.

  A sudden twinge of pain caught Amet by surprise. He could not tell what was happening or locate the origin of the pain, for to investigate he would have to release his vision of the transfer point. The pain grew as seconds passed; it began to eat into his mind as fear and panic blossomed. The pain grew terrible; he could not stand it; he felt as if he were being eaten alive by fire!

  It was the Tamorlee! It had to be! But he could not do anything—not during transfer! His mental scream of agony gave way to panic, and he released his image of the transfer point and opened his eyes to a grayish void. The pain was centered in his hand. He looked down at the glowing light that surrounded his charred fingers. He brushed at the glowing light as the pain intensified. His scream was vocal, but in the void between realities, sound was muted and quickly absorbed. He brushed frantically at his burned hand and the glowing orb at its center. His maniacal scrabbling caused burned flesh to drop away, and with it—the Tamorlee.