by S. S. Segran
Reyor side-eyed him. “Do you think that perhaps, as stand-in leading Elder, you are crossing your bounds on this matter? Being overly zealous with your newfound status?”
“There is no status to being an Elder, leading or otherwise. There is only responsibility.”
“I have studied our scriptures, Nageau. Nowhere have I found anything that states we must remain hidden from the outside world. We have the power to make a difference, to heal the planet, yet we choose to stay on the fringes.”
Nageau dug the knuckle of his thumb against the middle of his forehead to ward away a creeping headache. “This needs to stop, Reyor.”
“What does?”
“Poisoning the minds of our youths.”
“Ah, I see.” She linked her fingers together behind her back, hair sweeping elegantly with the breeze. “So speaking one’s beliefs is now considered poisoning minds? Do we no longer believe in our right to express ourselves? Is it not one of our root values?”
“It is, and I have said as much. It will always be so, as long as it does not lead to schism and strife. Freedom of expression must be used judiciously and with the wisdom that it deserves in the service of the good. It cannot be allowed to foment the destruction of our community.”
“First poison, now destruction. Is that what you truly believe I am about?”
As Nageau formed an answer, she jumped in, cutting him off. “Who decides if my understanding of the prophecy is erroneous? You? The other Elders? Are we now slaves to your decisions? When did we lose the right to think for ourselves?”
Oh, she is relentless, Nageau thought, and though he tried to resist, bittersweet fondness wedged its way in. Just like when she was a child, except now it is not so endearing.
“The scriptures give the Council of Elders the right and the responsibility to guide the community and safeguard its unity,” he said. “Individuals should and always will have the right to choose whatever they believe, regardless of how erroneous they may be. But to incite others to act upon such beliefs is unacceptable.”
“I have not called for any action, Elder Nageau.”
“Perhaps not directly, but you have planted the seeds and you are certainly tending to these crops. And you know this because in your own words, you are attempting to change the direction of the Council. But that is not for you to decide.”
Reyor fell silent, her face a perfect blank, and they walked on with no more words shared. The distant thundering of a waterfall grew louder the closer they drew to their destination. As they circumvented a stack of boulders, a massive beast appeared from the other side.
Nageau bowed to it. The black-furred creature, one of five gargantuan bears known to the villagers as the Guardians, stood nearly fifteen feet in length and seven feet at the shoulder. It approached the humans without fear, and intelligence twinkled in its dark eyes. It touched its cold, rough nose to Nageau’s forehead, then snorted, sending the Elder’s hair whooshing back for a second.
Then the Guardian turned to Reyor. The woman dipped her head, but the bear didn’t move any closer. It stared at her for the longest time, and Nageau was almost certain he’d sensed a shift in the creature’s aura.
Drawing itself up to its full height, the Guardian growled and lumbered past them, disappearing into the forest. Nageau glanced at Reyor, brow puckered, but she paid no heed and continued on toward the waterfall.
“So,” she said. “How is Elder Vonak faring?”
Nageau hesitated to respond, then answered, “Tikina is doing everything she can to heal him.”
Reyor tilted her head toward him. “You know you can always call upon me, mmh? Your mate is not the only healer around. And I have been helping Magèo with all his different research as well.”
Nageau regarded her and for just a moment. He was tempted to accept her offer, but something about her tone stopped him. He was unsure if he’d imagined the odd lilt, but nevertheless he couldn’t shake it off.
“That is kind of you to offer,” he said slowly, “but I think Tikina has it under control.”
“Alright.”
Now he knew he hadn’t imagined it. Her acquiescing had come too quickly. And in the same swiftness the soft expression of care had fled, leaving a coolness that could not be seen but was certainly felt. Nageau pulled his cloak tighter around him.
Then, without looking at him, Reyor added, “Keep in mind that infections such as this—of which we are unfamiliar with—can cause the ailing individual to deteriorate rapidly.”
“We will remember that,” Nageau said stiffly.
Reyor halted, as did he. She reached out to him, expression soft once again, and gripped the sleeve of his tunic much like a child would. “Why do you respond to me in such manner?”
Despite himself, Nageau nearly spluttered out a laugh at the pout in her tone. “Your words seem foreboding, Reyor. Even you have to admit as much.”
“Tch! It is merely the truth. I have read things like this in some of the previous healers’ journals.”
“Mmhm.” Nageau gingerly peeled her fingers back, much like he used to when he was a youth looking after her while her parents were occupied. Being ten years apart in age did not stop her from trying to call the shots as a child, but he adored her enough to endure it. As they grew older, their relationship became one where she would come to him for advice and guidance, and he would go to her whenever he needed a laugh. It was the closest he’d ever come to having a sibling of his own. And then . . .
Something changed. No matter how hard he tried, he could never pinpoint when or why it happened. Reyor began to devote her time to studying the tribe’s scriptures, devouring everything like a force of nature. He’d initially been thrilled with her interest, but when she started to espouse the beginnings of radical ideas, concern doused his elation.
A hand landed on his forearm, bringing him back to the present. Reyor examined him with a squint. “Are you all right?”
“Quite.” Nageau gave what he hoped was a convincing smile. “I was just reminded of us growing up—of you as a child.”
A wistful expression crossed her face. He studied her, then carefully said, “You really do have a knack for leadership, Reyor. People are drawn to you and they are interested in what you have to say. If used wisely and in line with our teachings, you could have a profound impact on our community.”
“That is sweet of you to say, especially after our earlier conversation.”
They emerged from the trees into a clearing where a glittering waterfall greeted them. Nageau released the tension he didn’t realize he’d been holding, then basked in the serene sight. He took a few steps forward until his moccasin boots were right on the edge of the pool at the bottom of the waterfall. A fine spray of mist coated him, cooling off his skin in the warm summer afternoon.
As he closed his eyes and focused on relaxing his body part by part, Reyor called out, “Nageau.”
He turned, locating her by the trees that created a crescent line around the clearing. “Yes?”
“Since you are in such a mentoring mood, I have a question.”
“I assumed as much. What is it?”
“I heard that the black crystal is capable of much more than just powering our individual crystals, though it is not as potentially destructive as the lathe’ad.”
Nageau’s breath caught in his throat. “Where did you hear that?”
She fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist, from which hung her personal crystal, a beautiful blue quartz. “Is it true?” she prodded. “Does the black crystal have greater capabilities?”
“You know this is one of the few things the Elders are prohibited from talking about.”
“So it is true.”
Nageau swallowed. Then his eyes drifted past her and he thought his heart would stop altogether. Reyor stood in front of the centermost of five immense pine trees, her back to it as she watched him. The tree was several shades darker than the rest.
She asks the question while
standing there, he thought. Is it a coincidence? A warning? What is this?
“Ask me something else, Reyor,” he said, rushed and out of breath. “Anything else.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, then leaned back against the trunk of the dark tree. “No, that is alright. Let us just savor this stunning view before heading home.”
Elder Vonak passed half a moon cycle later. The circumstances of his death had produced questions among those who’d seen his body; angry rashes had appeared on his skin a few days prior to his passing. Nageau’s mate, Tikina, studied the old man’s remains with Magèo, the village’s inventor-magi. Both noted that the rashes reminded them of symptoms caused by a certain root written of in a healer’s records ages ago. But that didn’t make sense. Everyone in the village knew not to approach the only valley that housed those poisonous tubers.
The four remaining Elders investigated the situation among themselves while an election for the new Elder took place. Two days later, after Vonak’s funeral, the newest member of the Council was inducted. Tayoka, a man with bushy, flaming red hair who’d only just turned thirty summers old, was hesitant about accepting such a humbling role, but Nageau took an instant liking to the youngest Elder’s vibrant energy. He would have much to contribute in the coming years.
Following Tayoka’s induction, the Council met to decide who would take up Vonak’s mantle as leading Elder. With the exception of Nageau, everyone else had unanimously voted for him, despite his being a fairly new Elder himself. Their faith stunned Nageau; he could not sleep that night.
Deciding he needed some air, he stepped out of his home and strolled beside the river, listening to its soft gurgling. That was when he found two youths standing on one of bridges over the water, speaking in quiet tones. Nageau recognized them as the blond twenty-year-olds who often went out on hunts together. Distress tightened their faces.
As he passed them, he chirped, “Is everything all right? It is quite late, and you both look as though you are about to be ill.”
The youths hesitated before the girl said, “Is it true that there were rashes on Elder Vonak’s body, Elder Nageau?”
Nageau wasn’t entirely surprised that word had gotten out, but he was disappointed. People did love to talk.
“Yes,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
“Have the Elders found out what caused the rashes?” the boy asked.
The Elder scrutinized the pair. “Perhaps . . .”
“Is it about the forbidden root in Boro-Ki?”
“Alright,” Nageau said, putting his hands on his hips, “out with it, please. Why all these questions?”
The youths shuffled their feet, glancing at each other. Nageau leaned closer. “Well?”
“We may have some information,” the girl started. “About a moon cycle ago, we saw someone enter Boro-Ki.”
Nageau frowned. “That valley may not be officially off-limits, but no one should be going there.”
“We know!” she exclaimed.
“Did you get a look at who this person was?”
The boy took a deep breath. “Reyor.”
Everything around Nageau whistled out of existence until it was just him and the youths. He stood stock-still for a time, then softly asked, “Are you sure?”
The pair nodded earnestly. “It happened a little while before Elder Vonak fell ill.”
“And you did not say anything?” Nageau demanded. “Why did you wait until now to come to an Elder? And perhaps a better question is, why were you in Boro-Ki to begin with?”
“We were not in the valley!” the boy answered hastily, his eyes full moons. “I promise. We were out scouting before a hunt and found a good viewpoint from a plateau near Boro-Ki. That was where we saw Reyor entering the valley.”
“Did you see her pick the roots?”
“Well, no,” the girl said. “She entered one of the caves inside. But she seemed furtive.”
Nageau looked toward the river, heart sinking. Reyor could not have done it, he thought. Despite all her talk, she would not go to such an extent . . . But even if she did, what did she think would happen? That she had enough followers to elect her to the Council?
He turned back to the youths. “Thank you for telling me this. The Elders and I will delve deeper. Now go, get some rest. This is no longer a weight you need to bear but, please, keep this to yourselves for now.”
The youths looked eternally relieved. They dipped their heads, right fists crossed over their hearts, and scurried away.
When Nageau returned home, he woke Tikina. His mate sat up in their bed groggily. “Nageau?” she murmured. “Love? What is it?”
“I need your help,” he whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I think the possibility of Vonak’s passing being natural has just diminished. Drastically.”
As he told her about his exchange with the youths, she covered her mouth, horrified. Nageau placed a hand on her knee. “Do you have a way of identifying the scent of this root?” he asked.
“Why?”
“I need you to find out if it can be traced to Reyor?”
Tikina gathered herself, and though she was still stricken, she nodded. “I can search for an animal near Boro-Ki to obtain the scent, then use one of the animals here to see if it tracks back to her.”
She sat back, resting against the wall behind her. Nageau sat with her as she entered a meditative state, searching for creatures to mindlink with. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, and the adrenaline shortened his quickening breaths. He said prayer after prayer as he waited, begging the universe to prove them wrong, to prove to them—to him—that Reyor had not crossed the line.
When Tikina finally opened her eyes, tears spilled down her cheeks. Shakily, she cupped his face in her hands. “I am sorry, Nageau. I am so sorry. I know how much she meant to you growing up.”
Nageau slumped into her arms, defeated. As she stroked his hair, she said, “It was faint, but . . . I searched the laboratory she shares with Magèo and it was there, on her work bench.”
“What are we supposed to do?” Nageau asked. His voice was rough with the tears he fought back.
“Call the Council into session,” she said, hugging his head against her chest. “I do not think we should delay this.”
Miserable, he slid his arms around her waist and roused the other Elders telepathically. Within minutes he received confirmation that they were all outside.
“Come, Nageau.” Tikina gently nudged him upright. He allowed her to lead him out of the neyra by the hand.
The other Elders had convened in the center of the small clearing, all in their cotton sleepwear. Tayoka rubbed his eyes, yawning. “What has happened, Nageau?”
Nageau drew his cloak tighter around himself against a chill that didn’t belong to the summer night. “Vonak’s death was most likely not accidental or natural,” he began wearily. “Earlier tonight, two youths disclosed to me that they saw an individual from our community enter Boro-Ki.”
The other Elders shifted, frowning.
“As we have heard both Tikina and Magèo say, the strange rashes that appeared on Vonak’s body before he passed seemed to resemble those that would have occurred should someone have consumed the poisonous root found in that valley.”
“Murder,” Tayoka breathed. “You are saying one of our brethren is a murderer? Who—”
“Reyor,” Nageau whispered hoarsely.
The others stilled. Within the trees, an owl hooted, and somewhere outside the valley, a howl carried through the forest.
One of the Elders, a woman with hair white from age, scrubbed at her face. “What proof do we have?”
As Tikina filled them in on her discovery, Nageau sat down on a stump behind him.
“Though it appears damning, it is at this point nothing more than conjecture,” the white-haired Elder said. “We cannot count that as proof. That is a shared laboratory. For all we know—if we are going down this path—then Magèo is a suspect as well.”
“I value your line of thinking,” Nageau told her, hating every word that left his mouth, “but we should not forget that Reyor has been a vocal opponent of the way this Council administers the community.”
“We cannot outright call that motive,” Tikina said, “but Nageau is not wrong. Her beliefs, her obsession, does not do her any favors here.”
“Murder,” Tayoka repeated. His already pasty skin had gone paler.
Nageau went to stand by the younger man and gripped his shoulder. “This is certainly not how we would want any new Elder to be initiated into the Council.”
Tayoka managed a wan smile. “What do we do now?”
Nageau pointed through the trees. “Let us hold a formal meeting so we can discuss this matter properly, with the attention it deserves.”
He brought up the rear as the others started their short walk to the Elders’ assembly neyra. Tikina kept stride with him and slipped her hand into his. Connecting telepathically, she said, This is already so difficult for the Council. I cannot imagine how this must be for you.
I want to sleep and not wake up until the universe decides to turn this into some kind of a joke, Nageau confessed. I am playing my role but it feels surreal, like a dream where the world has inverted. She used to be like a sister to me. My little Reyor whom I would always look out for. Where did I go wrong, Tikina? Where did I go wrong?
Tikina squeezed his hand. Nageau understood that it was the only consolation she could offer.
The Elders disappeared into their assembly neyra and only reappeared just after midday. They dispersed, changing into their daywear, then called for a community gathering by the temple. The villagers seemed confused; they’d always had their gatherings in the amphitheater on the other side of the valley. But Nageau wanted this to happen in front of their most consecrated spot.
The Elders stood in a line, looking out at the crowd. As Nageau gazed at the sea of faces, he realized with a jolt that this was his first proper address to the community as leading Elder. He balked. Then he felt Tikina discreetly rest a hand on his back, and he straightened.
