Seeking the Dream

by Marcia J. Bennett

  She looked at the wedge of light showing through the top of the door and the casing. Another day had come.

  She closed her eyes. Dhalvad? Where are you? What’s happened? If only you could hear me.

  Her thoughts began to wander to the days she had spent as a chalk artist in Port Bhalvar, to her old friend Trass, who had taught her how to survive after her mother died. She heard Screech pick up the chain and begin to work it back and forth again, growling softly as he concentrated all his effort in breaking free. Somehow she forced herself to move, crawling back to her place beside the derkat, then fumbling for the chain.

  He touched her face with the back of his furred hand, then pulled the chain in the direction he wanted her to pull.

  “Got it,” she said, and renewed the pressure on the chain as he continued to dig at the wall.

  Minutes passed and all that could be heard was the scratching of derkat claws and the labored breathing of the two friends as they struggled valiantly to free themselves. Blood-drenched splinters dropped to the floor as Screech’s claws scored deeper and deeper. Venting his frustration and anger on the wood was all that kept Screech from derkat frenzy, a type of self-destructive madness that was not uncommon among his kind. He felt the metal pin move again and gave a low growl, renewing his efforts.

  The two were so intent on their work that neither heard the bar on the door slide back. It was the light from the opening door that finally caught their attention. Startled, both turned as the door bumped back against the inner wall.

  Two figures blocked the light. Poco released the chain and shielded her eyes against the glare as the two stepped into the cabin.

  The irises in Screech’s eyes narrowed automatically, allowing him to focus on the two much faster than Poco. He growled ominously as Paa-tol drew a knife from his chest harness.

  Poco’s eyes finally began to adjust to the light. “Paa-tol!” she hissed softly as she stood up. Conscious of her skimpy undertunic but dismissing it as the least of her worries at that moment, she faced Paa-tol and Anwhol, her heart beating rapidly. She looked beyond them but saw no one else.

  “Where’s Amet and Dhal?” she demanded.

  Paa-tol saw that Screech was still securely chained and slid his knife back in its sheath before answering her question. “Amet’s dead. Our search was a failure. Dhalvad is dead also.”

  “Dhal’s…” Poco could not finish. She felt as if someone had hit her in the stomach and she could not catch her breath.

  Paa-tol saw the shock in her eyes and was secretly pleased. He had never liked her, and since there was no longer any reason even to be civil to her, he found it easy to be cruel.

  Numb and still struggling to take it in, Poco asked, “How? How did he die?”

  How indeed? Paa-tol thought, shivering inwardly as he recalled the light creatures. Had the light creatures gone after the others after he and Amet left? Or had they simply departed with Mithdaar, leaving Dhalvad and the others to face what was left of the Wastelanders? It did not really matter; dead was dead, one way or the other.

  “How did he die?” Poco cried again, anger and grief bubbling up inside.

  “The Wastelanders killed him. They’re men like the Sarissans, and very efficient killers. Dhalvad never knew what hit him.”

  “All for nothing,” Poco muttered, shoulders slumping.

  Screech growled, demanding Poco’s attention. When she turned to look, he signed, “Do not trust him! He is our enemy!”

  She looked into Screech’s eyes and suddenly understood what he was trying to say. A glimmer of hope sprang to life. Screech was right! Why should she trust anything Paa-tol said?

  “What proof do you offer that what you say is true?” she demanded.

  Paa-tol looked at Poco, grimly admiring her courage while at the same time knowing it would not be enough to save her. The two had to die. As for the child—He glanced to his right and saw the baby lying next to the wall. It was fussing softly, wakened by the angry voices. The child might well carry the talents of the father. There was no sense in wasting such potential.

  “I need prove nothing to you, Pocalina,” he said, drawing his knife again. “Because you and your friend must quietly fade from the memories of the People.”

  Coldness washed over Poco as Paa-tol ran his thumb over the blade of his knife. The time had come. I won’t give up without a fight, she thought, muscles tensing. If I can get either of them within Screech’s grasp, I can…

  Paa-tol snapped his fingers at Anwhol. “Get the child!”

  “No!” Poco screamed, lunging forward to intercept Anwhol.

  Paa-tol stepped into her path and caught her by an arm. He yanked her around in a sudden twisting motion and caught her around the waist with his other arm, his knife lying up under her breastbone.

  “Leave him alone!” she cried, struggling against the iron bands about her body, panic overriding common sense. “Leave him alone!”

  Screech was on his feet, straining against the chain, but he could not reach either of the male Ni. His yowls of rage were gut deep and so ferocious that Anwhol hesitated before picking Jiam up.

  “Get out of here!” Paa-tol roared. “I’ll take care of these two and meet you down by the boat!”

  Anwhol backed toward the door, his glance on the maddened derkat. “Paa-tol, are you sure?”

  “Yes, damn it! Go!”

  Anwhol cast one last glance at Pocalina and the derkat and fled out through the door, clutching Jiam to his chest. The child was crying loudly, disturbed by his mother’s screams.

  It was all Paa-tol could do to hold onto Poco as her frenzied struggles grew more violent. She was kicking his legs and clawing at his arms, her nails rending his flesh like small knives. He had come with no firm plan for killing Poco and Screech. He had thought of poison; he had also contemplated torching the cabin with them inside, but now that the time had come, he saw that there was an easier way, at least for the female. His knife was out; all he had to do was get her in the right position for a fatal thrust and…

  Screech backed up a step and lunged forward with all his power, throwing himself into the air at full stretch.

  Paa-tol caught one glimpse of something coming at his head as he thrust the knife upward toward Poco’s heart, but he could not move fast enough to get out of the way. A clawed hand raked the side of his face and caught at his neck and ear, dragging him backward off his feet.

  Poco screamed as the knife slid into her body. Eyes wide in pain, she felt herself falling as Paa-tol was wrenched back away from her.

  Screech pulled a struggling Paa-tol toward him hand over hand, his claws biting into tender flesh. Gasping in panic, the Ni scrabbled for another of the knives in his chest harness, but before he could get one free, the derkat was on his back, driving him flat to the floor. He thrust himself upward in an effort to overbalance the derkat and pin him beneath him, but Screech braced himself with a foot and forced Paa-tol onto his side instead.

  Paa-tol screamed as Screech bit into his neck. He thrashed about, trying to free himself, as the grinding jaws released and bit deeper, this time into his jugular vein.

  Poco heard Paa-tol’s last gurgled cry for help, then his struggles faded. She had no sympathy for him. He had killed her and taken her child. The pain in her chest was unbearable. She could feel her strength flowing away as her heart pumped blood out of her body. Though she lay in the light coming from the open doorway, the room seemed to be growing darker.

  “Screech?”

  Screech released his death grip on Paa-tol and sat up, drawn out of his rage by that whispered plea from Poco. He crawled toward her, but she was out of his reach.

  Her eyes were open, and she was looking at him.

  “Find Jiam,” she said softly. “Take him—far away. Love him—for me.”

  Screech spun around and grabbed the chain in both hands. Again and again he jerked against it. Poco still lived! He had to help her!

  He spotted Paa-tol’s knif
e harness. He dropped the chain and snatched a knife from its sheath, then went to work on the log, digging frantically at the wood. Finally the pin gave away.

  He was at Poco’s side a second later. Blood saturated her tunic front, and there was blood at her lips. She was still, her eyes open and staring.

  Screech raised his head and yowled in grief, the death of his tiyah burning deep into his soul. His radg was gone! He was alone again! As his cry faded, he looked down at Poco and remembered her last words to him. “Find Jiam. Love him for me.”

  Screech pushed to his feet. Find Jiam. Take him far away. The words echoed through his mind as he reached down and grabbed up the length of chain fastened to his ankle. He growled softly to Poco, bidding her good-bye, then slipped out the door and headed down a narrow, ill-kept trail, following Jiam’s scent.

  A glowing ball of light bobbed down over the small cabin seconds later. It settled near the open door, shimmering in all its power. A shadow moved within the light, and a moment later Dhalvad stepped out, the aura of energy dripping from him like water as he ran into the cabin.

  Another form left the sphere and quickly coalesced into the shape of an Elay. It followed Dhalvad into the cabin, drawn by the power of the Tamorlee. It bypassed Dhalvad, who knelt beside Poco, tears running down his face as he dropped into his healing trance.

  Dhalvad knew he was too late, but still he had to try. He dove into Poco’s body without thought for himself, his healing power radiating outward in a pulsing motion that matched the beat of his heart. He was exhausted from all he had done the past few days, the healings, the interrogation by the Elay, the wrenching pain of leaving Gi and his recently found brother behind—but all of that was as nothing compared to the pain and knowledge that he had not been able to prevent Amet and Paa-tol from carrying out their threats.

  His first task was to ease the knifepoint out of Poco’s right lung and seal the puncture, then he concentrated on massaging the heart and lungs.

  As he healed the body with one part of his mind, he searched frantically for the life spark that was Poco, despair washing through him as the seconds passed and he could not find her. Exhaustion slipped upon him like a robe of darkness, and he felt his strength fading.

  “Poco! Answer me! Please!”

  The Elay watched from the side, observing the healing touch of the Ni. Such power was rare among the many kinds of life he had witnessed, but it was not unheard of. He saw that the Ni was exhausted and stepped closer, the Elay’s creed of noninterference pushed aside for the moment in a twinge of guilt. By preventing Dhalvad’s quicker return to Jjaan-bi, he had inadvertently caused pain and perhaps the death of an innocent. His glowing hand came to rest on top of Dhalvad’s head.

  Dhalvad felt the rush of power enter his body, but there was no time to question its source. He dove deeper and deeper into the darkness that was beyond Poco’s mind, crying her name.

  Poco heard Dhalvad’s voice as if from far away. She was warm and comfortable where she was, and she had no desire to leave. She felt that something important was about to happen to her, but Dhalvad kept calling her name. She tried to remember where she was, but that knowledge eluded her. Shadowy figures moved around her, the feathery touch of their hands urging her toward a light.

  “Poco, where are you? Don’t leave me! I need you!”

  Dhalvad’s voice caught at her, wrapping around her body with invisible bonds. He sounded so lost, so frightened. She turned from the light and looked behind her, down a long tunnel. A shadowy figure stood at the end of the tunnel surrounded by a haze of green light.

  “Poco!”

  She hesitated, but only for a moment. “I’m here, Dhal. I’m here!”

  A roaring rush of wind filled her ears as she fled back toward the one who had dared death’s corridor to find her.

  Chulu, Caaras, Tidul, and several of the city watch approached the far shore of Lake Haddrach with a prisoner in tow. As their sailboat entered the marshy cove, they spotted another boat already beached on the rocky shore.

  Chulu looked at their prisoner, a young Ni named Su-gaal, one of Amet’s followers. Su-gaal had several bruises on his face and was shivering, though not with cold. He was badly frightened and had lost all hope of rescue by either Amet or Paa-tol, for according to the Council Elder who now glared at him with disgust, both of his superiors were in deep trouble, the kind that carried the sentence of banishment or life imprisonment should they be found guilty.

  “Is this the place?” Chulu demanded harshly.

  Su-gaal nodded, avoiding direct eye contact with the elder Ni.

  Chulu fidgeted as Caaras jumped out into waist-deep water and guided the boat the last few feet toward shore. It had taken them too long to learn the truth about Dhalvad and Poco. If not for Gi-arobi, they still would be complacently awaiting Amet’s return. After discovering that Poco had never reached Cybury, a city-wide search had begun, and as rumors quickly spread, several of Amet’s people had come forward, intent on clearing themselves of any wrongdoing. In the process of questioning, certain names had been revealed. Of the five named, three had been found and questioned; Su-gaal was the fourth, and they had yet to find the fifth, a distant relative of Amet’s named Anwhol.

  They all splashed the last few feet to shore. Chulu had Su-gaal by the arm as they stepped out of the water. “Show us the way and be quick about it!”

  Su-gaal nodded and started up the steep path that followed a dry streambed. The others followed behind, grabbing at branches and outthrusting roots for balance. They reached a level spot and followed Su-gaal down a narrow path to the left.

  Su-gaal suddenly stopped, and Chulu bumped into him. “What is wrong with…” Chulu’s words trailed off when he saw what lay on the path ahead. He pushed past the young Ni and knelt beside Anwhol. He knew the face, though it now bore a bloody gash from lip to eye.

  Caaras swore softly as he stepped past Tidul, who was trying to breathe deeply in order to hold in the contents of his stomach. “He’s been disemboweled,” Caaras muttered as he, too, quickly turned away. “Who would have—”

  An eerie yowl echoed through the woods, its wavering sound sending chills into each Ni standing there.

  “Screech!” Chulu growled as he grabbed Su-gaal’s arm. “Damn it, get moving! Show us where you’re holding Poco and the child!”

  “If Screech is free,” Caaras said, “then Poco and Jiam have to be all right, too.”

  Grim-faced, Chulu hurried downtrail, leaving the others to follow. “Pray that you’re right, Caaras! Pray that you’re right!”

  Chapter 23

  CHULU AND CAARAS climbed the last few steps to Dhalvad’s porch and found their host waiting for them. A week had passed since his return and he still looked tired and gaunt.

  “Sorry we’re late,” Chulu said as he stepped up onto the porch. “As newly appointed head of the Council, I’ve had my troubles today.”

  Dhalvad smiled. “You thrive on trouble, Chulu.”

  Chulu grinned. “You’re right. How’s Poco doing?”

  Dhalvad led the way into the house. “She’s still weak from the loss of blood, but she’s feeling better. She wants to see you and thank you both for what you’ve done.”

  “We didn’t do very much,” Caaras said. “You and Screech had everything pretty much under control by the time we got there.”

  Dhalvad shook his head. “I don’t mean that day. I mean after… sending searchers out for Screech.”

  “We still haven’t had any luck finding him. No one we’ve talked to has seen anything of him or the baby.”

  “We’ll find them,” Dhalvad said as he ushered the two into the bedroom where Poco sat up in bed leaning against several pillows. Her face was pale, and her blue eyes were smudged with gray circles, but she smiled when she saw them.

  “You’re talking about Screech,” she said. “Is there any word yet?”

  Chulu shook his head as he stopped by the side of the bed and took one of her hands.
“Not yet, but we’ll keep looking.”

  Poco squeezed Chulu’s hand. “I’m worried about both of them, but I trust Screech. He’ll take good care of Jiam for me. I keep hoping that he’ll come back here, but if he thinks Dhal and I are dead, he’ll probably just keep going.”

  “Where do you think he’ll take Jiam?” Caaras asked.

  Poco looked up at Dhalvad. “We were talking about that last night,” she said. “We think he’ll head back to the plains and his own people.”

  “With the child?”

  “Yes,” Dhalvad said.

  Chulu looked at Dhalvad. “You’ll go after him?”

  “We’ll go after them,” Poco said firmly her glance on Dhalvad. “As soon as I’m strong enough.”

  Dhalvad nodded. “It’s together from now on, no matter what.”

  “What about your brother?” Caaras asked.

  Dhalvad looked at Chulu. “Are the Seekers ready to travel?”

  “I’ve lined up seven who’ll travel with you.”

  “Good. Then while Poco is getting her strength back, I’ll guide them to Bhaldavin and the rafts, and we’ll work out a way for them to cross the desert, with the Seekers providing food, water, and whatever else is necessary. Once I’m sure everything is set up, I’ll return with Gi, and we’ll go after Screech and Jiam.”

  “Dhal,” Chulu said, standing. “The Council members have asked me to ask you if you’ll consent to be our next Speaker. When Mithdaar is brought to Jjaan-bi, it will take an experienced—”

  “No,” Dhalvad said, interrupting. “I’m making no promises now. It’s my brother who’s attuned to the other crystal, not me, and I won’t commit myself to anything until I’ve found my son.”

  “Of course,” Chulu said. “I understand, but as head of the Council I had to ask.”

  “Would either of you like some hot tea?” Poco said, changing the subject.

  “Yes, I would,” Chulu said.