Jericho Falling

by Jaleta Clegg

  He lowered his cards. "And miss out on you? You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

  "Your father doesn't believe that."

  "My father's opinion doesn't count. And the last time I talked to him, he approved of you."

  "That was before we ended up on Xqtl. We were still the heroes of Parrus at the time. At least Dace was."

  "We'll be heroes again, Jasyn." He reached for her hand.

  She squeezed his hand, warm and alive in her own. "It's your turn," she whispered.

  "I know," he whispered back. "You sure you want to keep playing?"

  "Why shouldn't I want to?" she said, leaning forward over the table.

  "Because," he said, his face inching closer to hers, "you just lost." He spread his hand on the table.

  She sat back and had to laugh at the grin on his face. "You cheated."

  "So did you." He glanced at the cockpit where they could hear Larella's gasps and giggles accompanying Jerimon's version of events that led to his landing in prison. "I just had an evil idea," he said, his grin getting even wider. "Shall we invite them to play? Loser does dishes, of course."

  "Jerimon doesn't stand a chance, does he?" she said.

  Clark only grinned. She laughed.

  Chapter 19

  I sat abruptly. I had the weirdest dream that we were in a room of soft cushions. I panicked. It hadn't been a dream. I was in a room full of cushions and low couches. Beryn paced not far from me. Mart was slumped on a cushion. The air beyond the open front of the room was gold with sunset. I tried to slow my racing heart. I got off the couch, expecting dizziness or a headache or something. There was nothing, I felt completely well.

  "We have to go," I said to Beryn. "I don't trust anyone right now."

  He whirled on me. "Glad to see you're awake. Did you have a nice nap?" He wasn't being nice, he snarled.

  I backed off a step. "We don't have time for this."

  "But we did have time for you to sleep."

  "That wasn't my fault. I couldn't have done anything to stop it."

  "You could have passed on the drugged fruit juice."

  "I was falling asleep anyway."

  "Stop it," Mart said wearily from his cushion. His eyes never opened. I could feel his confusion and anger and despair in my own gut. "Just stop arguing."

  Beryn kicked a cushion in frustration. "We can't get out anyway. There's a force field across the room. We're locked in."

  "At least they don't want us dead." I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. What an utter and complete mess. The only people I knew that were chasing us were the local police. Who were the others? And why? What was Jericho? That seemed the key. I turned back to Mart, moving to stand in front of him.

  He opened his eyes, looking up at me. I'd never seen such misery as I read in his eyes. I sank down until I crouched in front of him.

  "What's Jericho, Mart? You must remember something about it."

  His hand lifted, of its own accord, and touched my father's ring. "I've told you what I know. The rest is jumbled, bits and pieces that I can't make sense of."

  "Jericho is sanctuary," a new voice announced behind me.

  I stood, turning to face the newcomer. A woman was framed in a door centered in the far wall. She glided into the room, studying me as closely as I studied her.

  She was short, barely up to my chin and well below Beryn's shoulders. She was old, her face wrinkled. She wore a silver robe that covered her, chin to toe. Her hair was braided into a knot that wound around her head in tight loops. Silver beads dotted her hair, a single long drop of crystal hung on her forehead. But it was her eyes that captured me. They were opaque silver that commanded my attention and respect. There was wisdom in them, and questions, and possibly answers.

  "Do I pass?" she asked, arching one white eyebrow.

  She laughed, a tinkling of silver chimes. Her face changed from cold and commanding to friendly and interested. She swept farther into the room and perched on one of the low couches. I realized why the furniture was so low. If everyone who lived here was so short, it was normal sized for them.

  "We have little time," she said, "and you have many questions. Sit, please. Ti'uro will bring you dinner. You may eat while we talk. Moonrise will come soon and then you must leave."

  "Why?" Beryn demanded, looming over her. "Who are you and what do you want with us?"

  "Beryn Norris," she said in a calm voice, "a very qualified starship engineer. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. You are of the Gypsy clans, are you not?" She tilted her head formally. "I have heard many stories of your people, but I have not had the honor of meeting one before. You must visit me again, in a more peaceful time."

  Beryn flapped his mouth a few times, but nothing came out.

  "I have not introduced myself," she said. "I am Myriassima, of the House of Yllisirua of the shrua'zhri of the Hrissia'noru. I am tliru, a farseer of my people. What I see has disturbed me greatly." She turned her silver eyes back to me. "You bring trouble with you, Dace of the notu'zhri. What is your name House? I have not been able to access my records."

  I stared blankly at her. Name house? Of the notu'zhri? What was she talking about?

  She frowned, a tiny wrinkle added to her forehead. She raised her hand and made the weird gesture Ti'uro had made at me earlier.

  "You are of the notu'zhri. You do not know?"

  "I was born on Tivor," I said stiffly. "I don't know anything about you or your people."

  She blinked once and the frown vanished. "They are your people as well. I know nothing of Tivor. Tell me, please."

  "What do you mean, my people?" I ignored her request.

  "The notu'zhri," she repeated. "And Martin is of the inoru'zhri."

  Mart's head came up at that. "Martin?"

  "You do not remember," she said. "What they have done to you is unforgivable. Do you not remember your mother, Ilya'ura? She was a Singer of great power."

  "No," Mart said harshly. "I remember screaming and pain and people dying."

  "They have damaged your mind, and your zhria." Myriassima raised her hands and traced intricate patterns in the air. Silver rings sparkled on her fingers. "You are no longer inoru'zhri. I do not know what they have made of you."

  "Now that you've managed to spout gibberish and confuse us," Beryn broke in, "why are we here? What do you want with us?"

  Mryia'ssima blinked in surprise. It seemed to be her favorite reaction to us. "You came to me for help. I have offered help."

  "Help with what?" I asked. "We don't have any idea what you are talking about. Why are they after Mart? Who are they? What in space is Jericho?" The questions blurted out. I had to bite my knuckle to stop the rest of them from escaping.

  "You truly do not know?" she asked. "I have been misled. How did you come to know Ti'uro?"

  "I offered to buy her necklaces," I said. In what felt like five lifetimes ago.

  Myriassima stared, her silver eyes round. Then she burst out laughing. We didn't join in.

  "It always amazes me the ways in which frezhria moves us," she said when she finished. "You truly do not know of your heritage. And Grant Lowell has not enlightened you?"

  I stared at her. Lowell's name rolled strangely off her tongue. How was he involved?

  "Perhaps he did not realize," she murmured, still studying me with her amused look.

  The front of the room shimmered and Ti'uro came through carrying a heavy tray. She set the tray on the table and hurried away.

  "I forget how short the time is," Myriassima said, watching Ti'uro. "The moon will rise all too soon. We have little time for questions." She turned her attention back to us. "I must tell you what is most important. The rest will wait. Eat, while I decide."

  I wanted to tell her I wasn't moving until she answered all of our questions. She'd probably just laugh and still only answer what she chose to. I sat next to the table, on the floor and sampled the food. It was good, various vegetables I didn't recognize in sa
uces with unfamiliar spices. Above us, a strip on the wall began to glow, lighting the room as the sunlight faded outside. Mart and Beryn moved to join me.

  "Jericho," Myriassima started when we had filled plates and were eating. "The name is an ancient one. A place of refuge. Or so some thought. It is a place of safety. All cultures have stories of such. Camelot, Shangri La, Utopia, Borrestia, and many others. Mostly they are myth, a vision of an ideal. Jericho is real." She shifted her gaze to Mart. "There are those who seek to destroy it. They have great power. They have many agents."

  "So what are we supposed to do about it?" Beryn asked.

  Myriassima shifted her attention to Beryn. He tried to stay belligerent. He couldn't manage under the steady force of her eyes. He shuffled back, his attention fixed on his plate.

  "Martin was sent to aid. He was captured. Others interfered. I do not know how or why he was drawn to you," her eyes moved back to me, "but your zhria answered his. You must help him save Jericho. He is our last hope."

  "How can you ask that of me now?" Mart said. "I've been damaged. They mind wiped me."

  "They tried," she said. "I share your pain, Martin. It is an abomination they have done to you. But you are the only one who can still hope to salvage anything from Jericho."

  Mart shoved his plate of half eaten food onto the table and stalked into the courtyard. Echoes of his pain and anger washed into my own mind.

  "You are linked," she said, turning her silver eyes back to me. "You must help him. Give him of your strength. Be zhrianotui to him."

  "I don't know what you're asking me to do," I objected.

  "You will learn, or you will both fail." She looked back at Beryn. "And you must play your part. I cannot read the winds, the confusion is too great and you have no zhria for me to sense. There is a purpose in your being here. But I do not know what it may be."

  Mart came back, unable to stay away. I felt the pull that kept bringing him to Myriassima's side. I felt everything he felt and it was going to drive me mad.

  Ti'uro came fluttering back. She paused just inside the room and bowed. "They are here," she said in her wispy voice.

  "You must go," Myriassima said, suddenly urgent and commanding again. "Now, while you still may. All is prepared for you. Go with my blessing." She made a strange motion with both hands. Mart dropped to his knees in front of her. She lowered her hands to rest on his head and whispered something to him. He nodded then reluctantly rose to his feet.

  "This way," Ti'uro said, sweeping one arm to indicate the far side of the courtyard. "We must hurry."

  She watched us over her shoulder, to be sure we were following her, as she fluttered across the dark courtyard. I didn't see we had much choice. We could have left and taken our chances out on the street with the police and whoever commanded the black flitters, if you could call it a chance. I didn't trust Myriassima and Ti'uro and their weird half explanations but they offered better odds.

  Ti'uro led us into another room and then through a maze of barely lit, twisting hallways and interconnecting rooms. Mart stepped impatiently on her heels when she slowed. I followed him with Beryn breathing down my neck.

  We climbed a narrow, uneven stairway to emerge in a wooded area. It was dark, the large moon of Shamustel just beginning to peek above the horizon. We were surrounded by broken paving stones and shattered pillars. Vines and flowers grew in carefully planned randomness. A single flitter was parked in the open area, lights off but engines humming. A petite woman in a flight suit with a close fitting helmet waited next to the open door.

  "You must go," Ti'uro said waving us at the flitter.

  I balked. "Who is she? Where are we going?"

  "We aren't going until you answer," Beryn agreed with me.

  Mart was already climbing into the flitter. At that point I could have shot him and he wouldn't have cared. The darkness of his mind made me want to scream, to shout, to prove I was still alive. He was dead inside.

  Ti'uro fluttered her hands. Her white dress danced around her. The jeweled insects she created fluttered in her hair, catching the moonlight. "You must go, now. Time is almost gone."

  I planted my feet, resisting the urge to climb in and just let events happen. Beryn stood close to me, as stubborn as I was.

  "She is Tris'oria," Ti'uro said. "She will take you to the spaceport. But you must go now, or they will stop you at the gate and all will be lost."

  "Devil's bargain," Beryn muttered in my ear.

  "The one you know or the one you don't, or in this case, any of the ones we don't," I said and sighed. I climbed into the flitter. Beryn followed me in, muttering to himself.

  The woman barely waited for us to pull our feet inside before she shut the door. We lurched into the air and flew swiftly into the night.

  I couldn't see where we were going. We were in a cargo area with no windows, or seats. We sat on the floor, me in between the two men. I pulled my knees up and put my head down and tried to make sense of life. I gave up. Making sense of what was happening to me this time was hopeless. Even if I smoked trannis for years, and cooked my brain with the drug, it still wouldn't make sense.

  Mart's bleak despair made me think that way. I tried to push him out of my head, like I had with the Eggstone. I couldn't. His emotions were too entwined with mine. The flitter swerved to one side. I threw out my hand to keep my balance. It landed on Mart's knee. He jumped as a spark of energy surged between us. A flash of golden light illuminated the cargo area.

  "Tell me I didn't just see that," Beryn said in a strangled voice. "I thought Lady Rina was strange. She never sparked, though."

  "You didn't see it," Mart and I said in unison.

  Beryn shifted away.

  Mart's hand caught mine, holding onto it like a lifeline. Energies surged between us through the contact. I tried to pull away. Mart held tighter. I gave in and just let whatever it was happen. Emotions washed over me, not my own. Despair, anger, hopeless frustration, and pain filled me. I didn't have the knowledge or the energy to fight the surge. I finally just let the emotions bury me.

  The wave receded. I shook my head, feeling them settle into me, soaking through every fiber of my body. I was Mart. I felt limp, drained of any spark of my own life.

  And then he drew the same from me, my own feelings of anger and frustration and worry and confusion. His fingers laced through mine. He kept drawing my emotions out, not stopping with the most recent ones. The pain of my childhood griefs, healed finally, he still tasted. My joys, my uncertainties, every emotion I'd felt in my life he experienced. And then passed back to me, whole and intact. He withdrew and I felt the bond between us grow more elastic as he drew an intangible curtain between us. I could still feel him, but it was muffled and dimmed. I was myself again.

  The flitter door opened, letting in dim light. We had landed and I hadn't even noticed. I was embarrassed to look at Mart. The only person ever to approach that level of intimacy with me was an intelligent rock, not a person at all.

  "Quickly," the woman pilot said, waving us out.

  Mart slid his hand free of mine. Beryn was already out of the flitter. I scrambled after him, still unsettled by Mart's nearness.

  We were on the very far outskirts of the landing field by an unused gate. The flitter was still humming, lights off. The pilot sent us scurrying across a broken pavement to the gate. The flitter lifted and was gone before we reached it.

  The gate was open the slightest bit. We slipped through onto the field. A single ship rested nearby, a small courier, much used and abused to judge by the way it listed to one side. The hatch light blinked once, on and off deliberately slow. Mart didn't hesitate. He ran swiftly across the field to the ship.

  Beryn grabbed my elbow. "We could make a run for a Family ship."

  "Go, if you want."

  "What did he do to you to make you follow him?" Beryn asked, pulling me around to face him. "I can see him in your eyes."

  "And the only way to get him out is for me to foll
ow and do whatever they want me to do. Go if you want, Beryn."

  He hesitated, hanging onto my arm and staring into my eyes as if the answers were written there. Maybe they were and I was just too close to read them. He finally turned away, heading for the broken down courier.

  "Caid would never forgive me for not learning the whole story," he said and tried to smile.

  "Are you afraid?" I asked, trying to tease him.

  "I am after looking at you," he said, not teasing but deadly serious. "I have precious little of the Gift, but everything I have is warning me to run as fast as I can. No wonder Lady Rina was upset after reading your cards."

  The hatch was open, waiting for us. We ran in. A man in mechanic's overalls walked out the hatch and sauntered off to the gate. Beryn shut the hatch.

  The three of us were alone in the ship. A note lay on the tiny table. Mart looked up from reading it, meeting my eyes.

  "We go to Talisen," he said. "The ship is ready to fly."

  "How?" I said. "I can fly it but I don't know anything about navigation. Unless you've suddenly remembered you're a navigator."

  "I can do it," Beryn said. "I was three months short of qualifying. Before Caid interfered and made sure I was an engineer instead."

  "There's a route tape in the ship already," Mart said.

  "I trust Beryn more," I told him.

  "Do you know how to fly this kind of ship?" Beryn asked me as the two of us squeezed into the tiny cockpit.

  "Yes," I said. It was the same class as the Twinkle. It was going to be cramped with the three of us aboard. A giant passenger liner would have been too small. I was minutely aware of Mart. I breathed every breath he took. I locked the seat webbing as he sat at the small table.

  He felt everything I felt as I took the ship up, away from Shamustel. He knew I was nervous, especially when the com light started flashing. We ignored it. He knew the feeling of power and freedom as we cleared the atmosphere and tasted space again. He knew how I felt, why I'd become a pilot. Nothing touched me as space flight did. With my hands on the controls, I was the ship, I was the power in the engines. I was free.