Vibrations: Harmonic Magic Book 1

by P. E. Padilla

  “It’s beautiful here, like in our world, but I think it’s even more beautiful here than home because there are no freeways or cars or any of the ugly buildings that can mar the landscape. These buildings seem to be part of the area, not just there in defiance of the land.”

  “Aptly put, my boy. Rustic and beautiful. Exactly.”

  They reached the outskirts of town and Sam saw that there were other, more functional buildings lining the main street. The roofs were still sharply pitched, but the buildings were more closely spaced and not as wide as the farmhouses. Many were three stories tall, no doubt to take advantage of the prime space in the town proper. “Dr. Walt, why did we bring the rakkeben into town this time when we have left them outside of town with the other places we have visited?”

  Rindu answered for the doctor. “Rakkeben are a more common sight further north. There is a large community not too far north of here, at Wolf’s Run, and there is a breeding industry between here and there. For those with the money, and the disposition which allows the rakkeben to choose them, it is not unheard of for others to bond mounts.”

  Nalia dismounted and stepped up to Sam. “And with the heart of the Sapsyra at Marybador not too many miles to the Northeast, most people here have probably seen riders at one time or another, though the Sapsyra are no more.” That last part was said as barely a whisper, as if she had run out of breath to form the words.

  Before Sam could respond, Rindu took up Nalia’s hand and squeezed it consolingly. “The Sapsyra will never be gone as long as you remain, Iba. With the Sapsyra as with the Zouyim, we carry the honor of our people. They shall rise again.”

  Nalia visibly relaxed. “It will be so, father. It will be so.”

  As they prepared to enter the provisioner’s shop, Sam noticed for the first time groups of men clustered further down the street. Because the shop was one of the first buildings they came to, they had not, as yet, passed by any of the groups. The men looked suspiciously like soldiers, though they were dressed in disparate styles. He was not happy to see that they had been noticed by one of the groups, the evident leader of which was stomping his way toward them.

  Sam nudged Rindu with his elbow and jerked his head toward the quickly approaching man. Rindu whispered something to Dr. Walt, whose face suddenly went pale. “Do not speak,” Rindu told Sam. “With your accent, we will get even more undesired attention than we have already received.”

  The man ground to a halt in front of them, four other men just behind him, all with weapons that had seen obvious use. They moved and handled them with the familiarity of men who had spent time with those weapons. Yes, definitely soldiers.

  “What is your business here?” the man demanded, squaring his body in front of Rindu and Dr. Walt.

  Calmly, softly, Rindu answered, “Our business is our own, as yours is your own. It is not polite to meddle in others’ affairs.”

  Face turning red, the man spat, “I am in charge of the forces here in this town. Everything is my business. Maybe you’re some kind of trouble maker. We deal harshly with trouble makers.”

  Rindu’s calm face and penetrating gaze settled on the man, making him inadvertently back up half a step. “We were unaware that ‘forces’ have taken over Greenfeld. My apologies. We are simply here to buy provisions and move on.”

  The man, recovering and standing up straighter, looked more confident. “The Gray Man’s Protective Forces are now in control of this and many other cities and towns. We are consolidating everyone for a common defense against the groups of bandits that are becoming more powerful and numerous.”

  “I see. I have been in the south and have not heard of such things.”

  “Well, you will. Where are you heading that you need provisions?”

  “We are heading toward Medit, exploring for ruins. My friend here is a scholar,” he pointed toward Dr. Walt, “who studies old civilizations. And we at times find items that can be sold.”

  The man looked at him disdainfully. “Psht. Treasure hunters. Better to become a soldier. You look capable enough. Interested in some real work? Wanna join the Gray Man’s forces?”

  “No, thank you. We enjoy our work.”

  “Fine. Get your provisions and leave. If you cause any trouble, you will be sorry.” With that, the man nodded to his underlings and the group moved off down the street.

  Dr. Walt watched them leave. “I didn’t know that it was so bad here. Obviously the Gray Man is moving to take over. We can expect that if his forces are controlling towns here, he will have already established control north of here. We must be very careful. This group didn’t know of us, but perhaps those closer to the Gray Fortress will. Let’s get our supplies and leave quickly.”

  After selecting traveling foodstuffs as well as a few thick cloaks that were available for fighting the colder weather to the north, and haggling with the proprietor on the price, Dr. Walt dropped several large iron squares into the man’s hand. He immediately brought them to his scale, weighed them, and then nodded to the old man. “Thank ye kindly, folks. Good travels to ya. Be careful if you go north through the wolves’ territory. Them’s dangerous lands.”

  Within minutes, the party was packed and riding out of the northern section of the town. As they left, Sam looked back over his shoulder and saw the man who had harassed them. He was standing in the street and watching them as they left. He had a curious look on his face. Sam hoped he forgot about them and didn’t cause any trouble. They didn’t need trouble coming up on them from behind. It was enough that they were riding toward trouble.

  37

  Nalia was distracted. She tried to focus, but it was always hard for her to keep her mind off things in this area, so close to where she had lived. Looking off toward the east as they left Greenfeld, she searched the mountains for signs of her home, the former headquarters of the Sapsyra. Marybador. It was impossible, of course, for her to see where the compound was because it had been safely nestled in a valley on the other side of the Greenclaw Range. Still, she could feel her home tugging at her.

  She had come into Greenfeld often back when she lived in Marybador, when she was on her way to or from somewhere else. The road/path that passed from north to south across the entire western seaboard passed through Greenfeld so she had been there many times. The reminders of her previous home left her heart feeling abraded and raw.

  Oh mother. I miss you so much. Why do things happen as they do? She was glad the mask covered her face because she was sure that anyone seeing her would instantly know her weakness, her pain. Even now, she saw Sam looking at her, noticing something in her movements. She bent over her rakkeban and patted his head, speaking softly to him. After Sam averted his gaze, she straightened up, promising herself that she would not show any outward signs of the pain her memories brought her.

  As she rode, her mind kept filling with snatches of conversation from previous trips. A peculiarly shaped tree would remind her of a funny story her traveling companion had told her. A rock formation reminded her of the time she played hide-and-seek with her father when she was young and they were traveling. A bird wheeling in flight above a stand of trees reminded her of her mother presenting her with a large hawk’s feather she found on the road. So many memories, so many people. All gone now. She let out a little sigh.

  Those times were past. She had her mission and she had her honor to be concerned about. She would do her duty and repay the Gray Man for all that had done, make recompense for all he had stolen from her. And she would help Sam.

  Sam. She had not thought that she would ever smile again like she did when he made her smile. He lightened her heart, made her feel…what? Like a person. He made her feel as if she was not just a warrior, not possibly the last Sapsyr, but was a living, breathing person. She liked that simple kindness. It melted her heart in a way she thought nothing ever would. It made her feel, when she had thought that she would never feel again.

  Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, she felt the
ghost of a smile tug at her lips. He was something else, this one. She still had not figured out exactly what else, but he was different from anyone she had ever met. She had known it from the start, but had hidden behind her anger and sadness and would not let it penetrate her shields.

  He had torn down her shields with his kindness and compassion and his commitment to what he believed in. She dared to hope that they would both survive this mad quest so she could learn more about him.

  But that was not what she should be thinking about. The mission was all. Old memories, new memories, thoughts of the future, they were meaningless. Mother, were you ever so weak as I, even as a child? I think not. I am a failure as a daughter and as a Sapsyr. Oh, that you could forgive me my weakness and ineptitude. Even as I embark on the most important thing I have ever done, I distract myself with trivialities.

  “Are you well, Iba?” her father’s voice shocked her out of her reverie.

  Clearing her throat of the heavy feeling her emotional thoughts created, she answered, “Yes, father. I am merely…distracted.”

  “Ah, yes. You have traveled this area much, many times with me. There are many memories here to assault you. We are not so far from what we called home.”

  “It is so. I am weak and distracted.”

  Directing his rakkeban closer to her, he put his arm around her shoulders. “No, Iba, never that. You bear much for one so young. Do not despair. After we have done that which we have committed ourselves to do, we can create good memories to replace the bad. No, not replace. Complement. Your memories, they are all of them you, and they all have made you who you are today. You are an amazing warrior, an amazing daughter, and an amazing person. Your mother would be so proud of how you have grown. I am so proud of who you have become. Please do not forget that.” Leaning in, he lightly kissed the top of her masked head and then moved off to allow her time to herself.

  She hoped no one noticed the mask soaking up her tears.

  *****

  Sam’s heart was breaking. He had been careful all day not to appear too blatant in looking at Nalia, but she had caught him a few times. She was obviously in turmoil. He wasn’t sure exactly how he knew, but he did. Maybe it was slight body position changes or the tilting of her head or even her breathing patterns, but he knew something was bothering her. He just didn’t know what to do about it.

  She kept looking toward the east. He wished he could see her face so he could read her emotions more clearly. Was this the area where the Sapsyr compound was? If so, then it was obvious what was going through her head. She had spent her life there, growing up, becoming part of the sisterhood of the Sapsyra. Then, with one fell swoop, the Gray Man had taken all that she held dear in her life. All except her father, that is.

  Looking over at Rindu, Sam smiled. The Zouy was a rock. His wife killed, his people scattered or killed, his mission in life put on hold for many years until some upstart from another world shows up, and he simply soldiered on, showing no affects that anyone could see. Was he really so at peace that he was as calm inside as he appeared outside? Sam thought that he probably was.

  His daughter, though made of the same tough material, was not as practiced, not as ruthless in tamping down her emotions. She had a fire, a passion, in her that Sam recognized immediately. He imagined that she probably had a lot of pain as well, as her reactions now were indicating.

  There she went again, looking longingly toward the east. What could he do to help? What could he do that wouldn’t make him seem presumptuous, that wouldn’t make things worse? He wanted to go over to her and hug her and ask her to tell him about what was troubling her. He wanted to save her from whatever demons she was fighting. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t bear it if he embarrassed her or somehow caused her to feel disrespected. She was prickly about honor and he was unsure how to act without making things worse.

  He watched her warring with herself for over an hour, succumbing to her melancholy feelings, rallying, and then succumbing again. Finally, unable to tolerate it any longer, he surreptitiously got Rindu’s attention. He locked eyes with him, moved his eyes toward Nalia, careful not to move his head at all, and raised his eyebrows.

  Rindu got the hint and watched Nalia carefully out of the corner of his eye for several minutes. Then, he slowly rode toward her. Sam watched Rindu say something to her he could not hear, watched her head snap up, and then watched as they spent the next few minutes in whispered conversation. After putting his arm over her shoulders and kissing the top of her head, he moved off, eyes focused on the road ahead.

  Sam watched as Nalia’s shoulders silently shook for just a moment, as her chin dipped to her chest, and then as she took a deep breath, lifted her head, straightened her back, and rode on. Though the material of her mask was such that it didn’t change color much when wet, Sam was sure he could see it becoming saturated. He averted his gaze and wiped a tear from his own eye, pretending the wind had blown something into it. They continued on.

  38

  From the litter that Sam had made for him, Skitter watched the landscape roll by. It had been an eventful trip so far, and he was sure it would continue to be so. He had settled into a comfortable alliance with the rakkeben, something that the other members of his community would be shocked to hear. Really, he was shocked at the development, being that hapaki were the favorite food of rakkeben, a rare delicacy.

  Still, it felt good to have more friends. He was unsure, but he thought that he probably had seen more things and interacted with more different types of creatures than any hapaki before. If he could just manage to stay alive to return home, he would be famous. Who knew, maybe he would be the one to bring the disparate and dispersed hapaki communities together into a hapaki nation. Wouldn’t that be something?

  He had a fondness for Shonyb, Sam’s rakkeban, felt a connection to the wolf that defied reason. There was a feeling in his belly when he thought of her, as there was with Sam and, to a lesser extent, the others. His people did not really contemplate affection, but maybe that was what made him feel this way.

  He guessed it just showed that life could be surprising in many ways. It was good he and Shonyb were friendly because the litter on which he rested while traveling was strapped to the big rakkeban. She had taken to treating him like a child, or a younger sibling. A weak, tiny sibling. She even occasionally cleaned the top of his head with that massive tongue of hers. It was wet and messy, but what could one expect from savages?

  Ok, maybe that was uncalled for. In his travels so far, he had realized that perhaps he had been a bit too arrogant when thinking of other species. It was true that hapaki were superior, of course, but there were things about these others that recommended them as well. In dealing with them in these last weeks, he had found that they may not be as backward and primitive as he had once thought.

  By using Sam’s mind as a conduit, he could understand the humans and had learned much about how they thought and why they did what they did. With the rakkeben, he still had to observe and assume. He wasn’t sure how they communicated, but he didn’t think it was anything he could learn. At least, it wasn’t anything he had learned yet.

  Still, overall, it was a good group that he traveled with. He was sure they appreciated him. They would be lost without him. Sam, especially, relied upon Skitter’s advice and opinion, as he should. He respected Sam more than the others for the fact that he relied so heavily the superior mind of his friend Skitter. Yes, there had been bumps in the road, but they had survived them and were making progress.

  But what would happen when they finally got to the Gray Fortress? That was the one thing that weighed on Skitter’s mind. How would they succeed? If they did succeed, what would that mean for Skitter? For the hapaki communities? What would it mean for the world itself? He was unsure about these things, but he knew he would figure them out. He was exceedingly clever, after all.

  His eyes roamed over the land they traveled through. He sighed longingly as a particular tree or a hollow in
a fallen log reminded him of his home in the forest. The Rangi Forest. It was a name taken from Sam’s mind. His community had no need for names. It was simply where they lived, that was enough. The trees were thick and the undergrowth was lush and full, perfect for traveling low to the ground to avoid detection. There were exposed roots everywhere and he could almost taste the tubers that hid in the moist, dark soil. Sure, some of the trees were slightly different, maybe appearing more so because he was viewing them from up high rather than ground level, but the forested area they were traveling through felt comfortable to him.

  As the small group passed through each area, he was interested to see the response of the lesser creatures living there. While they still quieted and grew motionless as the rakkeben passed, the small animals seemed to understand that the massive wolves were not there to hunt or to harm, but merely on their way through the demesne of the rodents, birds, and other small creatures. He had senses such as these as well, but they were normally muted behind his intellect. That was one reason why he was better, he knew, because he had instinct and intelligence, the best of both worlds. And if sometimes they seemed to war with each other, well, that was to be expected. It had worked for him so far.

  While he was in thought, everything suddenly went still. Not still like the animals were waiting for them to pass. No, it was a stillness as if life itself hung in the balance, a stillness of death. His instincts began thrumming and his internal alarms began to blare. Looking around, he noticed nothing out of the ordinary. The massive trees spread out from the sides of the little path and crowded the sky, their deep green boughs creating a canopy that made it difficult to see from which direction the sun was shining. The slight breeze made the grasses and ferns just off to the right sway gently, as if they were waving to the party as it passed. Things seemed to be normal, but it didn’t feel that way.