Salene's Secrets

by Laura Jo Phillips

  “Because she’s not actually here in body, only in spirit.” Tonka laid back down, his eyes full of curiosity now.

  “Hello, Nia,” Salene said. “I suspect you already know that this is Tonka of the Brun.”

  “You’re correct, of course,” Nia said, nodding before she bowed her head to Tonka. “It is a great honor to meet you Tonka of the Brun.”

  “And I you, Nia,” Tonka replied.

  “You knew that we would meet him,” Salene said. “Didn’t you?”

  Nia nodded, her eyes going to the children for a brief moment before sliding back to Salene. “I apologize for not telling you before, Salene, but as I explained earlier, I cannot speak of events that have not yet occurred. I can encourage you, and I can help you so long as I follow certain rules that I am blood sworn to obey.”

  “Blood sworn?”

  “Should I break a blood oath, even unintentionally, I will die,” Nia said. “But even if that weren’t the case, I would not risk so many lives in so careless a manner.”

  “I understand, Nia,” Salene said. “If we ask questions that you cannot answer, please just say so and we will accept that.”

  “I thank you, Salene.”

  “What can you tell us, Nia? Can you tell us about yourself? Who you are, where you are, how you’re speaking to us now?”

  “I can tell you some of those things,” Nia replied. “I am here, on this world. The silo I am in is a great distance from where you are, but I can tell you no more about its location than that. A large number of my people were stolen by the Doftle and the Xanti many hundreds of cycles ago. We do not age, but we are as mortal as our fellow captives, most of whom are human, so there are not many of us left now. The few of us who do remain would be happy to leave this state of existence and journey to the Light, but the fate of our home world, and our race, rests fully upon our shoulders. Even so, we would not have had the courage to go on as we have if the coming of Firehair and Jakitu had not been foreseen. It is a small hope, but when hope has been absent for so long, it is enough.”

  “Why do you call me Firehair, and Jinjie Jakitu?”

  “I apologize…,” Nia began, but Salene held up her hand.

  “Please don’t apologize, Nia. We’re not offended, and you explained your reasons for the names earlier. We would just like to know the meaning of the names and the reason behind them.”

  “I understand,” Nia said. “I’m sorry, Salene, but I don’t think I can tell you that, either. I believe it’s safe enough to tell you that you will learn the answer yourself very soon.”

  “All right,” Salene said. She was disappointed, but she’d told Nia she would accept her refusal to explain things and she would not go back on her word. “Can you tell me if you’re the one who foresaw our arrival?” she asked instead, trying to get a handle on Nia’s powers.

  “No, I am not nearly as gifted as that,” Nia replied with a smile. “I am but a Nomad, one who can wander in spirit without my body to hinder me. She who foresaw our hope has long since travelled to the Light, but she left us with her vision, and we’ve held tightly to it in her memory, and in our own desperation, ever since.”

  “How long have you been waiting?” Salene asked.

  “It has been nearly four hundred cycles since we were taken from our homes, and three hundred cycles since learning of your coming.”

  It took a moment for Salene to absorb the immensity of that. It wasn’t every day one learned she was the sole source of hope for an enslaved race, or that they’d waited three centuries for her arrival. “Nia, I understand why you can’t tell us what it is that we’re supposed to do. But I want you to know that if we’re unable to help you, my people, the Jasani, will. You will not be abandoned.”

  “That is very kind of you, Salene, and on behalf of all prisoners of the Doftles, I thank you.”

  “I have a question, Nia, if you don’t mind,” Tonka said.

  “Not at all,” Nia replied.

  “If some of your people are able to foresee events, why did they not foresee the coming of the Doftles in time for you to hide or fight them off?”

  “That’s easy if you know anything about the Xanti,” Salene said.

  “That is correct, Salene,” Nia said. “The Xanti changed what was meant, though even our most gifted seers did not discover that for a very long time.”

  “What is a Xanti?” Tonka asked.

  “Me do be explain later,” Jinjie offered.

  “Thank you, Jinjie.”

  “Nia, can you tell us if there are any other Brun besides Tonka who escaped the Nomen?”

  “I could tell you if I knew the answer, but I do not,” Nia said sadly. “I know only that the Brun in the silo where I am did not survive. I’m very sorry to be the bearer of such unfortunate news, Tonka.”

  “I had only a small hope, Nia,” Tonka said.

  “There may be others, Tonka,” Salene said. “Don’t give up hope yet.”

  “I shall try not to,” Tonka said, laying his chin on his paws.

  “I have another question, Nia,” Salene said. “One that I sincerely hope you can answer.”

  “I will if I can.”

  “Do you, or the people of your world, seek revenge against the Doftle?”

  “There are many who would like revenge, of course,” Nia said candidly. “I think all of the prisoners here, on this world, would like to see the Doftles fall, myself included. But we are not actively seeking revenge, nor do we intend to use you as a means of achieving it. It is escape and freedom that we desire above all things.”

  “I appreciate your honesty, Nia,” Salene said. “As much as I despise the Doftles, I will not be used as a tool for another’s purposes.”

  “I understand,” Nia said. “That’s one of the reasons I’m forbidden to tell you of things that have not yet occurred. It’s important that what you do, and how you do it, comes from within each of you, and that your actions, thoughts, and opinions are not colored by our wishes and desires.” Nia’s image wavered for a moment, causing her to frown, then sigh. “I’m afraid my strength is at an end and I must leave you now.”

  “Very well,” Salene said. “Will we see you again?”

  “When I sense you have need of me, or if I have information to impart, I will return,” Nia replied. “May the Light shine upon all of you.”

  Once Nia’s gray figure had completely faded away they sat quietly for a time, lost in their own thoughts. After a while Salene looked up at Tonka. As tired as she was, there was one last subject she had to discuss.

  “Will you tell us about the children, please?”

  “Of course,” Tonka replied. “Where shall I begin?”

  “Their parents?”

  “Very well. Oberto’s eldest daughter, Suann, was Mali’s mother. When Mali was two, a woman in the silo became ill with fever.” Tonka’s lip curled up, baring his fangs at the memory. “As advanced as the Doftles are, they do not offer medical aid to the people they force to work for them. This is true for the humans, the humanoids, the Brun, and even the Nomen. If one becomes ill, or is injured and dies, they are simply replaced.

  “Within days nearly half the population of the silo had caught the illness, and many died, including Suann, her mate who was Mali’s father, and Oberto’s mate. Only about one third of those stricken recovered. Oberto, his only son, Harve, and his youngest daughter, Lei, took Mali in. Since none of them were Mali’s parents they were not eligible under the Doftles’ rules to take time off to care for her, so she was left alone more often than not.”

  “A two year old was left on her own?” Salene asked in both shock and outrage.

  “Yes, I’m afraid they had no choice.”

  “I apologize for interrupting, Tonka. Please go on.”

  “A couple of years later Harve took a mate and in time they had a child, but Vinnia did not survive Tab’s birth. It fell to Mali, who was only four at the time, to care for the babe while Harve worked. A few months later Harv
e died in a fall from the upper tiers of the silo, not an uncommon fate, unfortunately.

  “Oberto was both angry and heartbroken, having lost all of his loved ones in a few short years save for Lei, Mali and Tab. That’s when he began searching for a way to escape the silo with what remained of his family. He knew what it meant to have a sky over his head and earth beneath his feet, and he wanted his only remaining child, and his grandchildren, to experience that. He wanted them to know what it was to be free.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet Oberto,” Salene said. “He sounds like a good man who did his best for the people he cared about.”

  “Yes, he was.”

  “I’m curious about Tab. Is he shy, or does he not speak at all?”

  “I’ve never heard him speak, or laugh, or make any sound at all,” Tonka said. “It worried Oberto, but there was nothing he could do about it.”

  “They seem quite small to me for their ages. I thought at first that their people were small, but Oberto appeared to be of average human height to me.”

  “Yes, Oberto was concerned about that, as well,” Tonka said. “He said that children needed sunlight and fresh air to grow properly, another reason he took them from the silo.”

  Salene wondered if Doc would be able to help the children attain their proper size, then smiled to herself. If anyone could do it, it would be Doc. Her eyes widened. What was she thinking? These were children, not puppies. She couldn’t just pick them up and take them home with her. Could she? “Tonka, to be clear, Tab and Mali are orphans now, correct?”

  “Yes, that is correct. They have no family either inside or outside of the silo. Is that important?”

  “I just want to be sure that no one will object to me making decisions concerning them,” she said, not quite ready to speak of something she hadn’t consciously thought about yet.

  “No one will object. Sadly, the only person who loved them was Oberto.”

  “What about Lei?”

  Tonka looked toward the children to be sure they were sleeping before he spoke. “I cannot speak of the time before we left the silo since, though I knew Oberto, I did not know his family very well then. I can speak only of the time after we left the silo.”

  “I understand.”

  “Lei was unmated and there were only two available males in our group who were of an age with her. Neither of them had any interest in her even though she was the only unmated female. She blamed the children for it.”

  “Why would she blame the children for such a thing?”

  “She believed that the men avoided her because they didn’t want to be responsible for children not their own. Whether there is truth in that or not, I do not know. What I do know is that no one liked the way she treated Mali and Tab, including the two men in question. Her anger and resentment toward the children grew by the day, which worried everyone. Finally, Oberto told her that it was her behavior that no one liked, and that it had nothing to do with the children. She refused to believe him.”

  Salene remembered seeing three sleeping pallets in the burned out hut that held Lei’s remains, and her stomach tightened. “Did the children have to live with her?” she asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

  “Ironically, Lei insisted that they do so,” Tonka said. “She was afraid that if she refused to have them under her roof that it would appear she was shirking her duty.”

  “I don’t understand,” Salene said. “Why didn’t someone just take them from her? Did what she want mean so much more to everyone than the safety and well-being of the children?”

  “No, the other people cared,” Tonka said. His ears twitched uncertainly. “It’s not easy to explain, or to understand, even for me. But I shall try.”

  “I’ll try to keep an open mind.” Tonka’s head tilted curiously. “I’ll try not to judge,” Salene clarified.

  Tonka dipped his head in acknowledgement. “In the silo, where so many people must live so closely together, there are customs, or perhaps rules would be a better word. One of those rules is that family lines are never crossed without direct invitation. The only exception to that rule was if someone’s life was endangered. The people in the silo grow up and live their lives according to rules such as that, so breaking them, even though they were outside the silo, was next to impossible for them. According to those rules, only Oberto had the right to intervene in the matter of Lei and the children.”

  “Then why didn’t he?” Salene asked, trying very hard not to sound accusing.

  “Oberto and I spent much of our time trekking back and forth from the settlement to the silo to keep watch on the Nomen. It was too dangerous to take the children along with us. Whenever possible he would invite them to stay with us, but that was the best he felt he could do.”

  “Tonka,” Salene said, then hesitated for a moment. She didn’t think she wanted an answer to the question she was about to ask, but she needed to know. “Did Lei physically abuse the children?”

  “No,” Tonka said. “She never caused either of them physical harm. In fact, she never touched either Mali or Tab in any way, for any reason. She made no secret of it, either. She seemed almost proud of it.”

  Salene blinked away tears at the thought of what Mali’s and Tab’s lives had been like. She’d felt as though they belonged with her from the moment she’d seen them, and the strength of her desire to claim them as her own was immense. But would that be the best thing for them? Probably not, she decided reluctantly. She was newly power bonded with a dragon and sworn to enter the fight against the Doftles. What was she going to do? Take Mali and Tab into battle with her? Besides, what would the Gryphons think? Providing her message had reached Tani, and that she’d been able to force them to shift, and that they’d had Controllers in the first place.

  She grimaced. There were entirely too many unknowns in her life, and that made her less than ideal for the role of parent. Didn’t it? A sudden thought entered her mind. “Tonka, will the Nomen continue searching for the children?”

  “I don’t think so,” Tonka said. “One of the Nomen asked Oberto about them. He said that they’d both caught a fever and died months earlier. I knew from the Nomen’s scent that he believed Oberto’s story.”

  “I don’t mean to insult anyone, but are you sure the others who were taken back to the silo won’t mention that they’re still alive?”

  “The only person I wouldn’t trust to keep the secret was Lei. I’m quite certain that none of the others will betray Mali and Tab.”

  “Lei would have gone that far?” Salene asked, shocked.

  “We will never know for certain, but I believe she would have, yes.”

  “Why did the Nomen kill her instead of taking her away with the others?”

  “Because she refused to cooperate with them,” Tonka said.

  “I would have thought, from what you’ve told me, that she wouldn’t have minded returning to the silo all that much.”

  “You’re correct,” Tonka said. “She wanted very much to return to the silo where there were more men for her to choose from, and she was constantly trying to convince the others to return with her.”

  “What happened?”

  “The Nomen declined to allow her to gather a few items she wanted to take with her, and that made her angry. Lei was always very loud and extremely insulting in her anger, but the Nomen had no patience for it. I confess that I was somewhat relieved when I heard her begin ranting at the Nomen.”

  “Relieved why?” Salene asked, then immediately shook her head. “Never mind, I know. You were afraid she’d tell them about the children.”

  “Exactly,” Tonka said. “I suspect she was not altogether right in the head if you want to know the truth of it.

  “I sort of figured that out myself,” Salene said. She watched the children sleep for a few minutes while she finished her tea and set her cup aside. “I think we should try to get some sleep now.”

  “Yes, I agree,” Tonka said, yawning. “I’m quit
e tired.”

  “Yes, so am I,” Salene agreed as she placed a fresh log on the fire, then banked it carefully. “That should burn throughout the night. Maybe we should take turns staying awake.”

  “No do be need,” Jinjie said, then waved his arms around a bit until a cloud of orange sparks rose into the air above him, swirled around for a few moments, then vanished. Salene told herself that one day she was going to ask him about all that waving around. Male Clan Jasani wielded magic but they didn’t wave their arms around when they did, and they didn’t generate sparks, either.

  “There do be alarm what do be waking if threat comes near.”

  “Excellent,” Salene said, yawning as she unzipped the survival suit and stepped out of it. She sat down and pulled off her boots, then removed her weapons vest and holsters, putting both on top of the blanket beside her. She laid down and watched the fire while her thoughts turned to the Gryphons.

  Her mind picked over the same questions, the same doubts, and the same worries almost by rote now. It was a useless exercise since she had no more answers now than she’d had the last fifty or sixty times she’d done it, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She wondered where they were, how they were, and whether they’d meant to break faith with her or not. After a few minutes she closed her eyes and sent out a silent, secret wish that they really did have Controllers, even though it was a horrible thing to wish upon anyone. Nevertheless, she wished for it harder than she’d ever wished for anything in her life.

  Chapter 10

  Talus, Jon, and Kar were so tired that they’d begun to think in circles by the time they finally agreed to stop looking for Salene long enough to grab some sleep. After giving Royce specific orders on continuing the search that the man didn’t need, they headed to their staterooms. Talus took a quick shower before climbing into bed, but the moment he closed his eyes he realized it wasn’t going to be that easy. Putting his body to bed was one thing, but stopping the fear, worry, and near panic that whirled and spun through his mind was another.

  He decided to try thinking of something else. Something specific. For a moment he settled on the night of Tani and Steel’s wedding. The night they’d made love to Salene for the first time. He quickly realized that particular memory wasn’t conducive to calm thinking so he shifted his thoughts to the following day instead. He skipped through the shocking revelations concerning Rayne and her trip through time, and moved on to that night, after their hurried departure from Garza with Salene on the Razor at her parents’ request. He still didn’t remember very much of that night, but one memory was very clear to him. He’d been standing in a doorway looking at Salene, her long red gold hair flowing down her back in silky waves, the delicate scent of wild Jasani lavender, her scent, filling his senses.