Rift

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Rift Page 41

by Heidi J. Leavitt


  Jenna’s stomach clenched. The idea that someone in the Armada knew that there was an intelligent alien presence on Zenith and they were keeping that knowledge from everyone frightened her. Were they in danger? Why were they encouraging unrestricted immigration to this planet without even attempting to find out what these isithunzi were and if they could coexist with humans? What kind of arrogant leaders would decide that they had the right to keep such a secret? A sudden thought stopped her cold. Was her father one of them? Did he know about this? Then she remembered her mother’s secret stash of the witness accounts from her grandfather’s involvement in the Roran Uprising. Someone connected to her mother knew something. They knew that the accounts of Konrad Roran’s behavior were significant, and they obviously had seen that the documents were in danger of being destroyed. That was why the accounts of her grandfather’s involvement in the Roran Uprising had been given to her mother for safekeeping.

  What did her mother know about this? She thought of all the questions she had asked her mother over the years about the mysterious accidents always befalling her relatives and how her mother had always just vaguely referred to a curse on their family. What if instead of being cursed her family had been shadowed, as the Rorans put it?

  Had the isithunzi been causing the early deaths in her mother’s family?

  It was a terrifying thought. But then why did Kendra’s isithunzi seem intent on protecting not only her, but the people around her as well? And how, by all the stars and cosmic dust, did Kendra communicate with it?

  “I’ve got to find Kendra,” Jenna said urgently. “I have to make sure she’s all right.”

  Kip snorted. “Good luck with that. You can’t even stand, and there are no fewer than three guards outside this hut.” Then, as Jenna’s eyes filled with tears she could no longer hold back, he patted her shoulder awkwardly. “It’ll be OK. I’m sure they are taking good care of her. They think she’s one of the Blessed. They won’t hurt her.”

  Jenna thought of the frenzied crowd throwing stones at Kendra’s platform at the pit. She shook her head. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  ●●●

  Jenna had all afternoon and evening to worry about how Kendra was faring at the hands of the Rorans. Nobody came to see them; the only interruption to the long, maddening wait was a guard who entered with some food for them after a few hours. He did not even respond to any of Jenna’s frantic questions about her daughter nor Kip’s request to know when they would be set free. By dusk she could stand and hobble around the room again, though her legs were painful and stiff. They were swollen, and her skin was stretched taut, making even the brush of the pants seams along her thighs irritate her tender skin. She was still wearing the outfit she had borrowed from Kip even though it was filthy and stained from her hike through the jungle followed by her foray into the pit.

  She’d just gotten to the point where she desperately wished for a bathroom—even a slop bucket would have been better than nothing at that point—when a guard appeared and offered to escort them to the bog one at a time. At first she just looked at him blankly. Then Kip snickered. “Trust me, you probably need a visit to the bog, city bird. I’ll be a gentleman and let you go first.” Bewildered, she hobbled after her guard out of the hut and was relieved to learn that the bog was the latrine. But it was another reminder—as if she needed another one—that she was dealing with a completely foreign people and way of life.

  On the way back to her hut cell, she eagerly studied the other huts clustered farther on. The sun was sinking behind the trees, and there were few people out at this hour—probably heading inside for their evening meals—but there were a couple of people wandering between the huts, and Jenna desperately hoped for a glimpse of Kendra. Surely Kendra was safe, but why wouldn’t they let her see her daughter? When they reached the cell hut door she was staring around desperately, knowing that without a glimpse of her daughter, she would find it impossible to rest that night.

  The guard had just put his hand out to open the door when a shadowy figure stepped forward, spear in hand. The guard stiffened for a moment, bringing his own spear out in defense, but immediately relaxed. “Arhat,” he greeted respectfully.

  Jenna blinked in the dim light, trying to make out the features of the large man before her, but the sun had dropped completely behind the trees, and what little light there was trickled from doors and windows in the other huts. Clearly, outdoor lighting of any kind wasn’t considered necessary.

  “Go ahead and take the other prisoner out. I will safeguard this Outsider until your return,” the visitor said. His tone was firm and confident. He obviously didn’t expect any protest from the guard, and the guard didn’t hesitate. He pulled open the door and called for Kip to come out. Jenna frowned. The new man’s voice had been familiar, but she couldn’t place it. It wasn’t Torben, of that much she was sure.

  Kip poked his head out the door. “My turn?” he said cheerfully. The guard didn’t answer; he just waved him forward. Kip edged out of the hut and caught sight of the newcomer. “Well, if it isn’t Floyd Roran. Been demoted to guard duty, have you?”

  The man laughed, as if that were the most ridiculous assumption in the world.

  Jenna stiffened. Floyd Roran. So this was Lenata’s crazy husband. And his last name was Roran? As in Konrad Roran?

  “A pleasure, as always, Kip. I’m sorry about this. I spoke with the Council this afternoon. They should let you go home in the morning.” Floyd’s tone was warm and friendly, and Jenna’s frown deepened.

  “Good to hear,” Kip said, as the guard led him away toward the outhouse. Jenna watched him walk away uneasily.

  “After you,” Floyd said politely, gesturing at the door to the cell. Jenna took a deep breath, trying to smooth away any outside sign of her fear, and walked back inside. Floyd followed behind her, carrying a stool that had been sitting outside the door. He placed it on the floor directly in front of the doorway and then closed the door. Jenna backed as far away as she could without actually pressing against the wall. She wanted as much space between them as possible, as well as room to fight if she needed it.

  Hopefully she wouldn’t need it. He was twice her size and armed with a poison-tipped spear.

  Floyd straddled the stool, sticking his spear into the ground in front of him. The tip glinted in the flickering glow of his lantern.

  “So, an Outsider with a Shadowed daughter,” he mused. “And you just happened to cross paths with my Lenata.” His voice was still pleasant, though there was something in his tone that made her nervous. “I find it hard to believe it was a coincidence,” he said, leaning forward on his spear. “How do you explain it?”

  Jenna shrugged. “I can’t.” She bit her lip. Had he heard the full explanation of how Jenna’s life had ended up tangled with Lenata’s? None of this was by her choice. If Jenna could turn back time and prevent her family from ever knowing any Raviners at all, including Lenata, she would do it without a second thought.

  Floyd studied her silently a moment longer. Then he switched tactics. “Did Lenata ever mention me to you?” he asked. It sounded like an innocent question, but Jenna had not forgotten the man’s cold, empty gaze.

  “No,” Jenna said directly. It wasn’t even a lie. Kip had been the only one to mention Lenata’s husband, and that was barely in passing.

  Floyd was silent for a few long moments.

  “My isithunzi would like you to die slowly and painfully,” he finally said.

  “What?” Jenna could barely gasp the word out. It felt as if her throat had closed. Some alien being wished her dead while another one—the one shadowing Kendra—wished to protect her? Or maybe it wanted to protect Kendra and felt that protecting Jenna was the best way to accomplish that.

  Floyd was still studying her face with narrowed eyes. He didn’t look about to leap up and stab her. His posture was still relaxed, and the spear en
d was still planted firmly in the dirt.

  “How do you know that?” she finally whispered.

  “I’ve grown adept over the years at distinguishing between the desires of my shadow and my own personal desires. Sometimes those desires overlap. Other times they do not.”

  “And—” she paused and sucked in a breath, “you do not want me to die slowly and painfully?”

  Floyd didn’t answer. “You are dangerous,” he said instead. “You represent a way of life that our people have rejected. However, danger also poses opportunities.”

  “I’m not dangerous!”

  He didn’t argue. Instead, he asked, “Do the blessed roaches seek you out?”

  “The blessed roaches? You mean the wattenwils?”

  Floyd didn’t nod or clarify. He just repeated his question. “Do they seek you out?”

  “I don’t . . . yes,” she finally said. “Not like my daughter, but yes.”

  “So either you are Shadowed or you are Forsaken as well. Judging by my shadow’s hostility to you, Forsaken is the more likely of the two,” he said. “Why would you be Forsaken, Outsider? Who are you really?”

  “Exactly who I said I am! My name is Jenna Forrest, and I’m from Tarentino Bay. I’d never heard about any of this shadowing business until today.”

  Judging by his cold, unblinking stare, he didn’t believe her. “You are too young to be a traitor from the Uprising,” he said, tapping his lower lip. “But your parents might have been among us then. Or your grandparents. They might have been among the Cursed, who, despite being Shadowed, fled when the Armada butchers attacked.”

  “The Uprising?” Jenna repeated, thunderstruck. Why had she never thought of that? They did have a connection to the Roran Uprising, though not in the way Floyd was suggesting. Was that what had happened? Somehow these isithunzi had connected to her grandfather during the Roran Uprising and then shadowed his extended family? Including latching onto his descendants born after his death? It sounded ridiculous, and yet . . . there had to be some explanation for all this. Jenna was out of her depth.

  The door opened, and Kip sauntered back into the room, looking for all the world as if he’d been for a refreshing stroll around the village. He was smiling and his shoulders were relaxed, his arms swinging loosely. Floyd immediately stood and picked up his stool.

  “Good evening, Kip,” he said as he headed straight for the door. He didn’t spare another word or even another glance in Jenna’s direction. When it closed behind him, cutting them off from the light of the oil lamp, Jenna closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath.

  “What did ol’ Floyd want with you?” Kip asked. He had already lost the carefree attitude. His whisper was sharp and worried.

  “I don’t know. He seems to think I’m Forsaken, whatever that means. That maybe my parents or grandparents were traitorous Rorans back during the Uprising.” She pushed her matted hair off her sweaty neck and twisted her head, trying to work out the kinks. The tension from her meeting had settled right at the base of her head.

  “Hmmmm.” Kip was thoughtful. “Maybe they were. There has to be a connection between you and the Rorans somehow.”

  Jenna didn’t respond. She wasn’t even going to tell Kip. It would do none of them any good for her to divulge the link. Especially where they might be overheard. Floyd’s tone had suggested that she would be considered equally guilty as her parents and grandparents if they had been Roran traitors. If he learned that her grandfather had actually killed Konrad Roran . . . well, even Kendra might not be safe, even if they considered her Blessed now.

  Jenna had hardly settled back onto her mat, planning to grill Kip more about the Roran village and their best chances for escape, when the wooden door to the cell opening creaked slightly. By the dim glow of an oil lamp at the guard’s post outside, Kendra saw two figures slip quietly into the cell. The second one eased the door shut before speaking softly into the darkness.

  “I’m sorry that I am unable to light a lamp, but I fear that would alert others in the village to our visit.”

  Jenna recognized the voice at once. It was Vanda, speaking in her low, measured voice. Jenna stared at the other shadowy figure but couldn’t make anything out at all.

  “The Council has met and made a decision, though they will not announce it to the village until the morning. Kip, you have been forgiven for violating the rules of the people and will be allowed to return to your home tomorrow, as long as you are willing to promise that you will not return to the village again. It is a rare extension of mercy; I hope I will not have to remind you that you will not be offered such leniency a second time.”

  Kip chuckled softly. “Maybe. Or maybe not. Let’s be honest, they need someone they can do business with on the other side of the river who won’t give them away. Someone outside has to be willing to trade in the Ravine on your behalf, don’t they?”

  Vanda didn’t respond, so Jenna assumed Kip had hit the mark right on. The average villager might not know anything about it, but clearly some of the Roran leaders wanted things from the outside world, and they depended on Kip to acquire them.

  “The Council has also decided that your interference in the Trial, Mrs. Forrest, did not invalidate it. Your daughter has been declared Blessed, and as such has been honored and housed accordingly. However . . .” Vanda hesitated for a moment. “They have declared your life forfeit for your blasphemy in entering the pit unbidden.”

  “What?” gasped Jenna.

  “That’s ridiculous!” protested Kip in a loud whisper. “You can’t commit blasphemy when you don’t believe in something in the first place. You can’t hold an outsider to your own harsh standards.”

  “Are you saying that you are going to kill me? Why did you pull me out of that pit then? The wattenwils would have done the job for you without any fuss,” Jenna said bitterly.

  There was silence for several minutes, and when Vanda spoke, her voice was even quieter. “I do not agree with the Council’s decision. However, I was the lone dissenting vote. There is nothing more I can officially do.”

  Jenna couldn’t even breathe. How calmly this woman could sit here and wash her hands of executing Jenna for the crime of saving her daughter!

  “However, if you were to escape, tonight, before the judgment is announced tomorrow . . . well, I do not believe they would expend much effort in trying to retrieve you.”

  Jenna snorted. “Because you all know that I would be swarmed by those crazy roaches the minute I left your village.”

  The other dark shadow chuckled a little. “So pessimistic, Mrs. Forrest. How did we manage to get here without being attacked?”

  “Lenata,” Jenna greeted flatly. All along Lenata had planned to bring Kendra to this overgrown jungle of death and stick her in that pit. She had wanted this to happen. It was all Jenna could do to keep from striking out at the woman. She clenched her fists and held back. It wouldn’t help. Not right now. Instead, she turned and spoke to Vanda again. “What are you proposing, exactly?”

  “I will let you out of this hut, and you will guide Lenata out of the village.”

  “My eyesight is coming back, a little, but it’s still very cloudy,” Lenata added.

  Kip snorted. “And where would you have us lead you, Lenata? We can’t go back to my place—even if we could get across the Sauro River somehow, we were attacked by Raviners who haven’t just given up and gone home, I’m sure of it.”

  “No,” Vanda said quietly. “Jenna and Lenata will go to the remains of the Quinzell. It is the ship that brought us here. There are some supplies still stored there, and it will shelter you until I can confirm it is safe to return to your home. When Kip is formally released tomorrow, he can join you at the ship.”

  “What? There’s a ship out here?” Kip said skeptically. “Never heard of it.”

  Jenna cocked her head thoughtfully. Of course
, the original Roran settlements had all been on the other side of the world. The Roran Uprising had ended not that far away from Omphalos, if she remembered correctly. They had to have reached Zoria somehow.

  “All of the older villagers remember the ship,” Vanda said, “though we don’t speak of it to anyone. The younger generation”—she flicked a glance at Lenata—“don’t know about it, of course. It’s easier if we don’t have to explain it.”

  No doubt, Jenna concurred sourly. Explaining to their children that technology was hostile to the planet would be a bit challenging with a ship sitting right in front of them.

  “Jenna can’t lead Lenata through the jungle in the dark to a place she has never been,” Kip protested, though he still kept his voice low. “She is no jungle traipser. How exactly do you expect her to find it?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Jenna said with finality. “Kip, Lenata can go with you in the morning. I won’t leave at all, not without Kendra.”

  Kip groaned. “But they are going to kill you, woman! You can’t just stay here!” She could almost hear his unspoken addition. And you could come back with help and rescue your daughter. “You can’t help her if you are dead,” he whispered. Jenna clenched her teeth. Of course Kip was right. But would she be able to get help? If Jimmy had gotten her message, the Armada might be on their way. If he hadn’t, Kendra’s only hope was for Jenna to somehow make it out of this forest and contact her father herself. Could she trust Vanda, though?

  “Lenata needs to leave tonight,” Vanda said firmly. “She cannot wait until daylight.”

  Jenna peered through the gloom. It had to be because of her husband. Had he attacked her already?

  “Floyd will kill me if I stay,” Lenata said hoarsely.

  “He was just here,” Jenna said, wondering if the other women knew that. They had missed him by only minutes.

 

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