Guardians Watch

by Eric T Knight

  “You are too close. You must move away.”

  Cara looked up. Bent over her was the Insect Tender in the red robe. She tried to reply but it felt like her mouth wasn’t working.

  “You are vulnerable to what they do. It’s not safe to be this close to them. Come away from here.”

  “But I’m supposed to be working,” Cara protested.

  In answer, Ricarn simply stared at her. She had the most piercing gaze of anyone Cara had ever seen. It struck Cara that she would hate to have this woman angry with her. It wasn’t just her stare that was different about her either. Most people moved when they didn’t have to, fidgeting or shifting their stance to a more comfortable one. This woman, on the other hand, held herself perfectly still while she waited for Cara to respond. She didn’t seem impatient or angry either. Cara had the feeling that she was willing to stand there all day if necessary, simply waiting for her response.

  Cara gave in and stood up. Ricarn started to walk away and she followed, first grabbing her brush and pail. From Tenders she’d overheard talking she knew who this woman was, but she had no idea what she wanted with her. There was something compelling about her. She seemed utterly sure of herself, but without being arrogant. She seemed like a woman who has reached her destination and now has all the time in the world.

  Ricarn motioned to her to move up beside her. “Walk beside me.” Cara obeyed. “You should stay away from them while they are training.”

  Cara remained silent. Was she supposed to respond? Finally, she said, “Are they dangerous then?”

  “You know the answer to that.”

  “Do I?”

  “Their true home is within pure LifeSong. Now they have been removed from it. How do you think they feel?”

  Cara pondered that. It was something she’d never considered. “I would guess that they’re hungry.”

  “It is only natural, is it not? What do creatures do when they are hungry?”

  “They try to eat.”

  Ricarn gave Cara a sidelong glance. “All that lives is potential food to them.”

  Cara shuddered, suddenly realizing where this was going. “Do you think they will try to feed on those who hold them?”

  “They already do. That is part of the reason the FirstMother has them spending so much time training the creatures. They are still small yet, and it is not so difficult to control them.”

  “But when they get bigger?” Cara ventured.

  “Their appetites will grow as well.”

  “The FirstMother should be warned.”

  Something that might have been a laugh came from Ricarn. The sound made Cara’s hair stand up. “Do you think she would listen?”

  Cara shook her head.

  “Why did the FirstMother take a sulbit?”

  Cara shrugged. “Because she has no choice? Melekath is coming.”

  “Do you think it is true, that she has no choice?”

  “Melekath has to be fought.”

  “Yet I see no sulbit on you. Clearly you, at least, have a choice.”

  “Well…”

  “Is it the FirstMother then who has no choice?” They had reached a bench tucked behind a tree and Ricarn motioned to Cara to sit down, then sat beside her, turning to face her.

  Cara didn’t respond right away. Finally, she said, “We always have choices.”

  Ricarn gave her an appraising look and nodded. “Why did you refuse a sulbit?”

  Her eyes hurt to look at, and yet it was hard to look away. It struck Cara that Ricarn had no shutters. When normal people opened their eyes on the world they were careful to always have the inner shutters closed. However they might appear, underneath they were hiding their innermost being behind those shutters. But Ricarn didn’t do that. There was nothing guarded or hidden in her eyes. She looked out on the world clearly and frankly and did not care if the world saw inside her. But that did not mean Cara could read her. Ricarn had thrown open the shutters, but when Cara looked inside she could not make sense of what she saw. She was simultaneously the most frightening and the most compelling woman she had ever met. “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “No, really, I—” Another look into those cool, clear eyes and Cara dropped what she had planned to say. The look in those eyes said that Cara would not be able to get along the way she always had, staying quiet, hiding what she really thought, murmuring acceptance regardless of how she really felt. The look in those eyes said it was time to stop hiding and be true to what she really felt. Cara drew a deep breath and took the plunge.

  “It hurts to be around them. I can’t bear the thought of one on me.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “I don’t know. I truly don’t. It’s probably just because I’m afraid.”

  “Can you go beyond?” Ricarn asked her abruptly. “Can you see?”

  “Not really,” Cara admitted. “I think I saw once, but I’m not sure.”

  Ricarn stared at her, her head tilted slightly to one side. “A Tender who can’t see.”

  “I’m sor—” Cara started to say, then stopped herself. Bronwyn was always telling her that she apologized too much.

  Ricarn looked away. Across the lawns they could just see the women training. She stared at them as she spoke. “If you could see, you’d know there is a reason to be afraid of those things. They perch on the akirmas of the women who carry them and their roots go down inside, deeper every day. Surely they can see what is happening. But why do they pretend they cannot?” She sounded truly perplexed.

  “Maybe they don’t want to see,” Cara said.

  Ricarn’s eyes snapped back to Cara and she nodded. “I believe you are exactly right. What do you think of the Protector?”

  Cara hesitated. “I only met him once. I can’t say—” Ricarn’s look stopped her. She took a deep breath and looked around to make sure they were alone. “I don’t trust him. I don’t know why. I just don’t.” Her hand went to her mouth, surprised that she had said as much as she did. She scrambled for damage control. “Of course, I’m probably wrong. He is the Protector, after all, named by Xochitl. And I’m probably worried about nothing about the sulbits. I’ve always been that way, afraid of the smallest things.”

  Ricarn’s mouth turned down in the slightest frown. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?” But Cara already knew.

  “Say what you think and then call yourself a liar.”

  The words struck Cara and she froze. She wanted to protest further, but she knew Ricarn was right.

  “Maybe you don’t trust the Protector because he is hiding something. Maybe you resist the sulbits because you are listening to your inner voice.”

  Now Cara found she could not look at Ricarn any longer. She turned her face away. “It could be,” she admitted quietly. Just saying the words made her feel uncomfortable. Cara gradually became aware of how many bees there seemed to be nearby. Funny, she hadn’t noticed any bees earlier. “But probably not. I’ve never been very good at that stuff. I was always behind in my exercises. I can hardly even hear LifeSong. And I never could find a sonkrill. I don’t suppose I’ll ever be much of a Tender at all.”

  “What does being a Tender mean to you?”

  “I don’t know,” Cara said miserably, “but I think I’m probably not really one.”

  “It is clear that you do not know what it means to be a Tender, but you are not alone in that. Neither do any of them.” She gestured at the Tenders who were training.

  “You don’t mean the FirstMother…”

  “I mean especially the FirstMother.”

  “You’re probably right.” Cara lowered her head and waited for Ricarn to walk away. When she didn’t, she looked up. “Why are you still here, talking to me?”

  “That is the question, is it not?” Ricarn said. “In time you will find out.” She stood up.

  Cara saw a large, green bug land on the woman’s neck and crawl into her hair. “There’s something…s
omething landed on you.”

  The woman reached into her hair and came out with a large green beetle. It walked across her hand unconcernedly. “Only an old friend,” she said. “With news. I will need to talk to my sisters about this.”

  She put the beetle on her robe and it disappeared into a fold. She walked away without another word.

  Fifteen

  “There’s a feral woman loose in the city.”

  “What?” Quyloc asked. Frink, the man in charge of his spy network, was giving him his daily report, but Quyloc realized he’d quit listening some time ago.

  “There’s a feral woman loose in the city.”

  Quyloc rubbed his eyes. Gods, but he was tired. How long since he’d had a good night’s sleep? His exhaustion was getting worse. He looked up at Frink, forcing himself to concentrate. “With all the strange things happening in the city, how is one woman important?”

  “I don’t know that she is, but something about this struck me and I know how you like detailed reports.”

  Quyloc resisted the urge to tell him to forget about it. He really didn’t feel good today. He was weak and just a little feverish. But he’d learned to trust Frink’s instincts. He blinked to clear his vision and asked, “What struck you?”

  “The word is she’s killing people, but here’s the thing. She’s just a little thing, hardly more than a girl. She’s mostly seen down by the Pits and she attacks people and kills them without a weapon. Accounts vary, but some say she has two creatures that she attacks with.”

  “What kind of creatures?”

  Frink shrugged. “No one knows. No one who lives gets a good look at her. But I have an idea. I may be completely wrong…”

  “Go on.”

  Frink continued talking but Quyloc didn’t hear him because right then he saw something out of the corner of his eye, a flash of bright green. He turned quickly, but there was nothing there.

  “Sir? Is there something wrong?”

  Slowly Quyloc turned back to him. He’d been sure, just for a moment, that he saw the jungle, thick ferns and dripping vines right there in his office. His fever felt worse suddenly. “No…it’s…I thought I saw something is all. Go on with what you were saying.”

  He didn’t miss the look Frink gave the rendspear. Clearly he’d noticed the way Quyloc never let go of it, but he was smart enough not to ask and Quyloc wasn’t about to offer information about it.

  “Tess thinks the woman might be a Tender.” Tess was a young woman in Quyloc’s spy network.

  That caught Quyloc’s attention. “Why does she think that?”

  “She’s seen her once. It was from a distance and the light was bad, but she thinks it might be a Tender named Lenda, who she saw a few times when she was watching the Tenders at their old home.”

  “Maybe she’s mistaken.”

  “Maybe. But consider this. Lenda is missing. Our eyes on the Tender estate haven’t seen her in weeks.”

  Something finally penetrated Quyloc’s fogged brain, something he would have caught normally. “You think the things she’s killing with are sulbits.”

  “It makes sense. We know those things can drain a cow shatren in a few minutes.” This wasn’t news. The Tenders, while not advertising what they were doing to the general populace, were making no effort to hide their training from the workers on the estate. Quyloc had heard numerous detailed reports about what the Tenders were doing with their sulbits.

  Frink left a few minutes later and Quyloc sat there for a bit, thinking. He was far too preoccupied with the Pente Akka. He was falling behind on what was happening in Qarath. He was falling behind everywhere, skipping meetings, losing his attention. If this kept up much longer he’d be completely useless.

  He got up suddenly and left his office. He needed to go outside, to walk, to try and clear his head if he could.

  He left the palace by one of the back doors. There was a large garden and a small orchard out here, between the palace and the cliffs overlooking the sea. Off to his left stood the tower. He walked to the low wall on the edge of the cliffs and looked out over the sea.

  For a time he stood there with his eyes closed, the spear resting on the wall. The sea air felt good on his face, clearing his thoughts.

  At one point he realized that he was not alone and he opened his eyes to see T’sim standing beside him. Quyloc turned to him.

  “What do you want?”

  “I thought I wanted to see the rendspear but now something else has caught my attention.” He was looking at Quyloc’s chest as he spoke.

  Quyloc took a step back. “What are you talking about?”

  “You have a…bite, don’t you?”

  Quyloc’s hand went to where he’d been stung. “How did you know that?”

  “I can see it. It does not look good.”

  Quyloc became alarmed. Quickly he tore open his shirt. The skin looked normal as always. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Oh. I didn’t realize. Here, let me help.” So saying, the small man stepped forward surprisingly quickly and, before Quyloc could react, he tapped him on the forehead.

  When his finger touched Quyloc he heard a loud concussion in his head and everything went dark for a second. He staggered back. “What did you do to me?”

  “I merely helped you see,” T’sim said calmly.

  Gradually, Quyloc’s vision returned, but there was a great pain in his head. “Next time tell me before you do something like that,” he growled.

  “Would you have let me do it if I’d told you?” T’sim asked calmly.

  “No.”

  “What do you see?”

  “Nothing. Everything looks the same.”

  “Are you sure? Look closer.”

  Quyloc rubbed his eyes and then he noticed the glowing, golden threads of light. They were all over the place. One of them seemed to be connected to him. “I see LifeSong,” he whispered.

  “You should be able to see even more than that. Look at that wall closely.”

  Quyloc did as he was told, but at first he saw nothing. He stared harder and all at once he realized that the stone appeared to be pulsing slowly. “What is it?”

  “It is Stone force, the power that lies within all stone. The stone here was dug from the ground and cut away from the bedrock long ago, so there is not much within it, but stone never completely dies.”

  “It’s incredible.”

  “There is energy within the Sky and the Sea as well, though you will have to push deeper to be able to perceive them and you may not be ready for that yet. Besides, there is still the matter of your little problem.” He pointed one small finger at Quyloc’s chest.

  Quyloc looked down and what he saw made him gasp. There was an angry purple and black lump on his chest. Radiating from it were black veins several inches long.

  “You got that in the Pente Akka, didn’t you?”

  “Something stung me.”

  T’sim looked at him curiously, his head cocked slightly to one side. “How do you feel?”

  “Terrible.” As he said it, Quyloc saw the jungle from the corner of his vision again and he turned his head suddenly.

  “What is it?” T’sim asked.

  “Nothing,” Quyloc said, rubbing his forehead.

  “What did you see?” T’sim persisted.

  “I thought I saw the Pente Akka, but I didn’t. Maybe I’m just hallucinating. I’m not sure what to believe anymore.”

  “It appears the venom is getting worse.”

  “I think you’re probably right.”

  “Is there no antidote?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I didn’t even know it was there until just now.”

  “What do you think will happen if you don’t find an antidote?”

  For a moment Quyloc just stared at him, wondering what to make of the question. But it was clear that T’sim was simply asking out of curiosity, maybe even childlike curiosity. He had a curiously smooth, unlined face, and he did look so
mewhat childlike.

  What manner of person was he? Quyloc wondered. Was he a person at all? A sudden thought struck him. Could T’sim be one of the Shapers he’d read about?

  “What are you?” he breathed.

  “I am nothing,” T’sim replied. “Just one who wants to know. I am harmless.”

  Quyloc nodded. The fact was, he did think T’sim was harmless. Despite the fact that Rome had found him in a city filled with dead people, where he was the only one living, Quyloc’s gut told him T’sim was telling the truth.

  “I don’t know what will happen,” Quyloc said.

  “Will you die?” Again the innocent curiosity.

  Quyloc hesitated before he replied. “I don’t think so.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because the Pente Akka wants me alive.”

  T’sim nodded. “Ah, the gromdin. It has been busy then.”

  “What do you know about the gromdin?”

  “Only that it seems to rule the Pente Akka. And that it seeks to be free in our world. I have not studied the place like Lowellin has.”

  “I’m starting to feel insubstantial,” Quyloc said. He held out his arm and looked at it. “Sometimes, just for a moment, I feel like I can see right through myself. I think maybe I’m fading, losing my hold on this world.

  “It is possible,” T’sim agreed. “Do you have any idea how long this will take?”

  “What? No, I don’t! Why? Do you want to be there when it happens?”

  “It would be something to see. I might learn something.”

  “Can’t you help me?”

  “I would if I could. You and Rome have proven to be very interesting. I would not like to lose you.”

  “But if something horrible is going to happen to me, you want to be there to see it.”

  T’sim nodded. “Does that upset you?”

  Quyloc considered this, then, “No. I think I’m too tired to be upset.”

  “Well, perhaps you will think of something. You are the man who killed the rend after all.”