“Not ever.” Salomen stooped to pick up a leaf and held it out.
“Cinnoralis.” Rahel crushed it and brought it to her nose. “I’ve loved this scent since I was a child. It meant freedom to me.”
“How so?” She shook her head at the sound of snapping twigs. For trained warriors, her Guards moved through the woods like a herd of fantens at feeding time.
“My first instructor used it to help us relax. His training house was the first place I felt free to be who I was.”
“The person you were, rather than the person others thought you were.”
“You understand.” Rahel frowned. “You shouldn’t have to understand that.”
“We both fought for our choice of castes. We just fought in different ways.”
The trail ended at a section of riverbank with a shallow, easy drop to the water’s edge. Salomen raced down it, not stopping until she stood in the gravel with water lapping at the toes of her boots. The Silverrun ran joyfully before her, sparkling in dappled sunlight as it rushed over rocks and threw spray in intermittent bursts of glee. Beneath its happy burble, a deeper roar rumbled upstream.
“That sounds like a waterfall.” Rahel leaned out to look upriver. “In that canyon?”
“Yes. It’s just a small one, but . . .” She tilted her head back and inhaled the rich air, heavy with life. “It’s mine.”
Her Guards closed in as she picked her way over the rocks. With five warriors trailing behind her, she felt like a paddlebird leading her padlings.
Some observations, she had learned, were better kept to herself.
A wide, sandy patch at the canyon entrance gave her room to step back and let Ronlin go past. He knew this spot and took one Guard with him to secure the upstream entrance. The others settled into a watchful stance.
“Two at either entrance and two directly overhead,” Rahel observed. “Good positioning.”
“I didn’t bring you here to be a Guard.” She spoke without thinking, irritation lacing her voice, and winced at the instant hurt.
“It will be a long time before I’m a Guard again. But it’s hard to break my training.”
Salomen glanced at the two warriors pretending they couldn’t hear and gestured for Rahel to follow her.
The soil banks gave way to solid rock that rose over their heads. It wasn’t a long canyon, but it was deep enough to feel secretive and special, an impression enhanced by the moisture-loving plants that clung to the walls and grew nowhere else on Hol-Opah. Even the Silverrun was different here, faster and more powerful, slamming into boulders and sluicing over their tops.
When they had walked far enough to be out of hearing range, she stopped and turned. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. This is one of those days when I’m sick of being the Bondlancer. I hate having no privacy, especially on my own damned holding.”
“But you brought me.”
“You’re not a requirement. You’re my choice.”
Somehow, those words worked magic. All vestiges of distress vanished from Rahel’s emotions, replaced by a startling level of happiness.
“Thank you for explaining. You didn’t have to.”
“My tongue can be too sharp,” Salomen admitted. “I’ve learned to give medical aid when necessary.”
“Consider me healed.” Rahel bounced on the balls of her feet. “Will you show me your waterfall?”
It was that easy. Salomen stood startled for a moment, then turned back and took the last few steps around the corner. A familiar wall of sound hit, while a cool, moisture-laden breeze stirred her hair.
“I thought you said it was a small one!”
“It is. We’re still getting snowmelt from the mountains.”
The waterfall was only half a body length in height, but it made up for its lack of stature with sheer power. Squeezed between two massive boulders, the river was reduced to a small fraction of its normal width, resulting in an explosion of white water that shot straight into the air. It stayed white when it landed, churning furiously over the rocks, and did not revert to clear water until it reached the point where they now stood.
“And you own this? I envy you.”
Salomen grinned at her, buoyed by the idea of being envied for her waterfall rather than her title. “Come on. We’re going up there.” She pointed to the huge boulder at the top of the waterfall and laughed as Rahel did a little hop of delight. “On second thought, you first.”
Rahel shot off like a bird released from its cage. She bounded from rock to rock with a sureness and agility that rivaled Salomen’s, leading her up without once putting a foot wrong.
When they reached the base of the boulder, Salomen took her around to its back side. Here, in the narrow space between the rock and the canyon wall, the waterfall’s roar was subdued. Overflow from the pressurized water had dug a shallow channel through the bedrock on which the boulder rested, creating a tiny side stream two paces wide and only a handspan in depth. Salomen hopped over it and began scanning the route up.
Rahel joined her. “This way?” she asked, reaching out.
“Stop!”
She froze. “What?”
“You were about to put your hand on a hairy watcher.”
“A what?”
Oh, this was too good to resist. Salomen plucked a small blade of grass from the sand and said, “Watch.”
The hairy watcher was a mature female the size of her fist. With its spiky green hair and habit of sitting motionless, it looked remarkably like a ball of moss. Four legs were tucked under its fat body while two more were folded horizontally into triangles, ready and waiting beneath its jaws.
Taking care to keep a loose grip, Salomen dangled the grass in front of it.
Nothing happened.
“What am I supposed to be seeing?” Rahel asked.
“You won’t see it if you don’t look more closely.”
“At what? It’s moss.” Rahel leaned in, frowning with concentration, and Salomen gave her grass an enticing twitch.
The hairy watcher struck in a blur of speed, snapping out its long front legs to seize the grass from her fingers. Just as rapidly, it assessed the catch as inedible, dropped it to the sand, and tucked back into a ball.
“Shekking Mother!” Rahel leaped backward, landing with one foot in the shallow water, then just as quickly leaped out again. A scowl darkened her face as she tried to shake out her flooded shoe.
Salomen dissolved into laughter, her arms wrapped around her ribs as she tried to catch her breath. She found just enough air to ask, “Do they not teach warriors anything useful?” before falling back against the boulder and laughing harder.
“You did that on purpose,” Rahel accused.
“Yes,” Salomen wheezed. “Of course I did.”
Rahel tried mightily to hold on to her scowl, but was soon laughing as well. Her emotional signature shifted, dropping what seemed like five cycles of care and grief. “Remember what I said about Mouse liking you?” she asked once her laughter had wound down to chuckles.
“Yes?”
“I was wrong. He would have loved you.”
And that, Salomen knew, was one of the highest compliments Rahel could give.
They climbed to the top of the boulder without further incident—the hairy watcher was fortunately sitting just to the side of a foothold—and stood in the broad saddle at its top. Beneath their feet, the river churned in the constrained space and rocketed outward.
Rahel said not a word, watching in appreciative silence. For several ticks, Salomen could not bring herself to break it.
“How do you want to do this?” she asked at last. “Lying down, sitting down . . . ?”
“Either one. I prefer lying flat, but you won’t know which works best for you until you practice. Try both.”
Salomen unrolled her mat, dropped onto it, and took off her boots. “You might want to take the opportunity to dry yours while we’re here.”
“Don’t try to sound like you’re
sorry.” Rahel sat on her own mat and took off the wet shoe. With a grimace, she began to peel off her sock.
Salomen made a valiant attempt at control, but when Rahel wrung a steady stream of water out of the sock, she fell back onto her mat and roared.
“I think you should know,” Rahel said in a conversational tone, “that it’s only my respect for you as the vessel of Fahla that keeps me from wringing this over your face.”
Salomen held her aching ribs. “Not your respect for me as Bondlancer?”
“No. Not even that could have saved you.”
“Then for the first time ever, I’m glad you think I’m Fahla’s vessel.”
It took them some time to wind down from the laughter and get to the point of their afternoon. Since Salomen was already lying down, she opted to attempt that first.
“No, not there.” Rahel took her wrists in a gentle hold and moved them higher. “You want your palms centered on your pelvic ridges. You’re closing the circuit, keeping your energies moving so they can balance out.”
“And my legs?”
“Cross them at the ankle.”
Salomen tried it. “Not very comfortable,” she said after a moment.
“It isn’t for everyone. Bring your feet up onto the mat. Bending your knees might feel better for you.”
Salomen shifted position. “It does.”
“Good. But your legs need to be touching.” Rahel nudged one over until her legs were pressed together. “In terms of completing the circuit, this is better than crossing your ankles. But not everyone likes this position.”
“It’s much more comfortable.”
“That’s what you want. Now relax your muscles, one group at a time. Start with your neck, then move to your shoulders.”
Salomen had not realized how tense her shoulders were until she focused on them. They dropped down, anchoring her more solidly on the mat.
“That’s it.” Rahel rested a light hand on her sternum. “Now your upper back.”
Step by step, she moved her hand down Salomen’s body, making it easier to target each muscle group. By the end, Salomen felt so fluid that a nap seemed more likely than anything else.
“Perfect,” Rahel said. “Stop thinking about your body now. Listen to the waterfall. Let it fill your head. You want to drift off, far enough to disconnect from active thought, but not so far that you fall asleep.”
“You caught me,” Salomen murmured. “I was ready to.”
“If you do that, I’ll throw a wet sock in your face. No, don’t laugh! Stop it, you’ll tense up again. Just relax. Listen to the waterfall.”
She tried. The constant thunder of the waterfall permeated her body, vibrating up through the boulder and humming along her nerves. It soothed her so deeply that she jerked, realizing too late that she had fallen asleep. Her eyes snapped open, filling her vision with a rock wall and the trees leaning over its top.
“Too far,” Rahel said. “But you avoided the sock. You were only asleep for a piptick or two.”
“Ugh.” Salomen rubbed her eyes. “Can I do it with my eyes open?”
“Yes. Sorry, I should have mentioned that. In the caste house, we have potted trees all over the centering room so we can look up into the leaves if we need to.”
“I don’t need those.” Salomen stared up at the overhanging trees.
Her second attempt got her closer, but she found it frustrating to look at the trees when what she really wanted to see was the waterfall. With an impatient huff, she sat upright. “It’s not working.”
“It never does the first time. Try this.” Rahel shifted to sit cross-legged, then held her palms together, arms tucked in tight against her torso, and rested her chin on her fingertips.
Salomen mirrored the position.
“Good. Now keep your upper arms against your body, but let your lower arms drop down until they’re resting on your legs.”
She copied Rahel’s movement, ending in a comfortable position with her palms together and most of her body connected to another part of itself. “This seems better for that circuit you were talking about.”
“Most warriors prefer it. Now you can either close your eyes or watch the waterfall. Keep your muscles loose, and let yourself sink deeper with every exhale.”
Salomen relaxed, her gaze on the ferocious jet of white water. Gradually her vision narrowed, the peripheral details discarded, until the waterfall was all she could see. It filled her ears as well, shutting out all other sound. It was the entire world condensed into a single point, and she was alone with it, the only inhabitant.
Her altered perception expanded to include a new sensation: a slight tingling of her skin. Water spray, she thought idly.
No, her brain reminded her. You’re too high for that.
She looked down at her hands, but her head did not move. She was still looking at the waterfall yet seeing her hands at the same time, despite their position below the line of her physical vision.
There it was, that separation of self she had felt twice before in her life. But it wasn’t the same. She was hovering inside her body, attached only by the thinnest of cords. Her hands were glowing with a faint aura of pale gold, and it seemed that all she needed was a small nudge to free herself.
She exhaled and gently pushed—and she was out.
In the previous events, she had been a helpless observer, kicked out and blocked by instinct. Now she stayed connected. Her link with Andira was intact, as were her empathic senses. Rather than subtracting part of herself, she had added.
She knelt on the bare rock and examined the scene. Her physical self sat cross-legged and still, not an independent actor this time but a solid, reassuring anchor. Beside her, Rahel sat in the same position, her gaze on the waterfall and her emotional signature at peace. Not once in all their hanticks together had Salomen sensed such uncomplicated contentment in her mind. For the first time, she understood what centering did for her.
“Why did you ever stop?” she asked, expecting no answer.
But it was her physical self that spoke. Rahel turned with a questioning look, then jerked backward. “Salomen!”
“I’m all right,” Salomen said. “I’m still here.”
Rahel recovered quickly. “Your eyes are dilated. Not as much as . . . as before. But, um, it’s noticeable.”
It was very odd, speaking through a body she wasn’t entirely inhabiting. “Perhaps because I’m not using as much power.”
“What are you doing?”
“At the moment, trying to get used to seeing through two sets of eyes.” She didn’t think she could have processed this if her physical self hadn’t been occupied by the visual equivalent of white noise.
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m not inside my body,” Salomen explained. “It’s looking at the waterfall, but I’m looking at you.”
Rahel’s eyes widened. “You mean you can just walk around invisibly? Fahla, what a tactical advantage that would be.”
She had to smile at the unexpected response. “Trust a warrior to go straight to the practical applications.”
“What other applications are there?” Rahel put one hand behind her back. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Are we eight cycles old?”
“You were, when you scared me with that hairy green ball of death. Come on, humor me.”
Salomen walked around behind her. “Three. No,” she added as Rahel folded one finger down, “two. You just changed it, cheater.”
“Holy shekking . . .” Rahel’s awe was a palpable wave. “You really are out there.”
“I am. Can you feel this?” Salomen laid a hand on her shoulder. Just as before, it passed through.
Rahel didn’t move. “Feel what?”
“Never mind, you’ve already answered.” Hands on her hips, Salomen turned to look upriver and noticed Ronlin standing at the other entrance to the canyon. “I wonder . . .”
She had meant to test her empathic powers, to
see if she could sense past his front. Somehow she ended up standing in front of him. It happened in the blink of an eye, leaving her dazzled by the visual shift. “Hoi,” she said, shaking her head.
“What happened?” Rahel asked.
Now that was odd. Her physical self heard the question, but that self was sitting atop a boulder fifty strides away. It was disorienting to hear Rahel’s voice as if she were right here.
“I’m not with you,” she said. “I’m standing in front of Ronlin.”
On the boulder, Rahel rose to her feet. “I don’t know why I’m looking; it’s not as if I can see you.”
Ronlin looked through Salomen as he scanned the top of the canyon. His gaze traveled downstream and stopped on Rahel. “What is Sayana doing?” he asked.
For a startling moment, Salomen thought he was talking to her. Then she realized he was addressing one of the Guards through his earcuff.
“I don’t care if you don’t sense a threat,” Ronlin said. “I don’t sense it, either, but we know that warrior can hide her intent. Why is she standing over the Bondlancer?”
“Rahel,” Salomen said. “Sit down.”
“Why?”
“You’re making my Guards nervous. To their eyes, I’m vulnerable right now and you look like a threat.”
“Oh, shek. Of course I do.” Rahel sat. “Didn’t you tell them you were going to try a little invisible wandering?”
“I didn’t think I’d be able to do it!”
“That’s a no. I’m going to sit here quietly until you get back.”
“Yes, I saw,” Ronlin said. “Any idea why she was so shocked?” He waited a moment. “Very well. Keep watching and keep your weapon loose. Your eyes do not move off that boulder.” He scowled at Rahel, then began scanning upstream again.
Only then did Salomen realize she had heard him despite her body being so far away. So she had sight and sound, but not touch. Her nose was full of river scents, but those would be the same here as they were on the boulder.
Casting about for something different, she spotted a dalis growing out of the bank a few strides upstream. Twinned blue blossoms were fully open on its tall stem.
Dalis blossoms smelled like decaying fish. She trotted over, put her nose to the nearest flower, and inhaled deeply.
Outcaste: Book Six in the Chronicles of Alsea Page 46
