Razor's Edge

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Razor's Edge Page 6

by Lisanne Norman


  Determinedly he lay down. He wasn’t going to let this dream worry him. So what if he remembered her from back then? It didn’t mean that what he felt for her now was based solely on what had happened to him as a cub. The nightmare earlier must have triggered the memory.

  It took some time to succumb to sleep again, and when he did, it was only to return to the past.

  They stood in front of the entrance to the lab, an area that Tallinu had never been allowed near. He was excited, could hardly contain himself. So much rushing around! Everything was being moved—all their belongings. He was too young to help, so he amused himself running round seeing what everyone was doing. He spent the most time watching their visitors, the two Sholans and the strange female.

  Running into her had frightened him, because he knew enough to realize she’d been expecting a cub herself and he’d been afraid he’d hurt her. They’d taken her to the doctor, but she must have been all right as she’d not been kept in the infirmary for long.

  When it came time to leave, he went with Dr. Vartra to see the door to the lab sealed. He’d been shown the collar, given it, in fact, to put into the control panel recess.

  “We have to leave it here, Tallinu,” the doctor said.

  “Why?”

  “Because it has to be found there.”

  He thought about this for a moment. “Like a present?”

  “Yes, just like a present.” He heard the note of surprised pleasure in the doctor’s voice.

  “For her? For the stranger? Can we leave it for her?” he’d asked.

  “If you wish.”

  “We have to leave now,” said Goran. “There’s no more time left, Vartra.”

  “We’re coming,” the doctor said, looking over his shoulder. “Are our travelers safe?”

  “Yeah, all loaded up like you said. Have you put the collar in yet?”

  “We’re just doing it now.”

  He felt himself being lifted and held level with the control panel. “Put the collar in, Tallinu. We have to go now.”

  He’d placed the collar into the recess, watching while the doctor pressed the button to seal the lab doors. As the panel itself slid shut, Vartra took his hand and placed it against the rock wall, letting him feel the slight indentations that marked the concealed mechanism.

  “That’s where you press to open the panel, Tallinu. You’ll need to remember this, so feel carefully over the rock.”

  “I’ll remember,” he said. He felt proud that an important adult like Dr. Vartra would entrust him with the secret of how to unlock the doors.

  They turned away, the doctor still carrying him. A sweet was handed to him as they made their way down the corridors to the outside where the vehicles were waiting for them. By the time he was handed into their truck, his eyelids were beginning to feel heavy and it was difficult to keep them open. He was passed from person to person till at last he felt himself come to rest on a soft lap. He sniffed. The scent was familiar. Opening his eyes with an effort, he looked up to see the strange female.

  Her hand rubbed against his cheek as she gathered him more comfortably on what was left of her lap. “Settle down now,” she said quietly. “Go to sleep, Tallinu. It’s going to be a long journey.”

  His heavy eyelids closed as he pulled himself closer, leaning his head against her belly. He fell asleep listening to the gentle rhythm of her unborn cub’s heartbeat.

  His troubled night had left him disoriented and tired. He kept to his rooms, working on his report, coming down only for second meal and then retreating to the sanctuary of his rooms again. The day seemed to be full of shadows for him—shadows and whispers—to the point where he began to wonder if the balance of his mind had been affected. By evening, he felt as if he were inhabiting a world of half-reality that was neither here in his present nor belonging to the past.

  After third meal, he excused himself, saying he was going to visit the shrine and that he might remain there overnight.

  Ghyan was surprised to see him. “I thought you’d still be resting,” he said.

  “I’ve had a bellyful of resting,” Kaid growled, sinking his hands deeper into the pockets of the long winter coat he wore. “I want to meditate, Ghyan. Can I use the room I had before?”

  “It’s your room, Kaid,” said Ghyan. “Can I get you a drink?”

  Kaid shook his head. “Nothing, thanks. The peace of this shrine is all I need.”

  “How long do you plan to stay?”

  “Maybe overnight, if you have no objection.”

  “None. As I said, the room is yours.” The priest stopped, obviously choosing his next words carefully. “Before you go, can you speak yet of what you saw in the Margins?”

  “Not yet. Father Lijou has asked us to mention it to no one as yet,” said Kaid, turning to leave. “I mean you no insult, Ghyan,” he added.

  “None taken, Kaid. I’ll see you’re not disturbed till morning. If you leave during the night, would you stop by our night watch and let him know?”

  “I will.”

  It was with relief that he closed the door of the small room behind him and switched on the psychic damper field. Now he felt that he’d truly left the world outside. He started setting out the oil lamp and the incense, taking comfort from the familiar tasks. There had been too much in his life lately that had been beyond his control. He needed this time of solitude and old familiarity—and isolation from the constant background awareness of the minds around him.

  Thankfully, the room was heated. Shrugging off his coat, he looked in the chest at the foot of the bed for something more comfortable to wear. In it he found a black priest’s robe—one of the Brotherhood’s. Surprised, he lifted it out and unfolded it. It had his scent on it—old, but unmistakably his. Then he recognized it. It had belonged to him all those years ago in Stronghold. How in all the Gods’ names had it come here? Then it dawned on him. Kusac had said that Dzaka had kept the room tended while he’d been missing in the hope that Vartra would guide him home. He must have kept the robe these ten years past, and brought it here for him.

  A wave of emotion came over him at the thought behind the gesture. Despite their unresolved quarrels and stormy relationship, his son had cared enough to not only keep the robe, but to place it here against his return. He took off his jacket and slipped his arms into it, fastening it with the cord that hung from the waist. A sense of premonition, swiftly followed by disquiet, came over him as he did, but resolutely he pushed it aside.

  He settled on the mat, lighting the ornate bronze lamp and crumbling the incense onto the hot charcoal. Scented smoke filled the air, swirling lazily as he began to chant the litanies. Gradually the tension began to drop away from him as he let himself sink deeper and deeper into the meditative trance.

  For some time he stayed like this, at peace with himself as he repeated the teaching litanies of Vartra, examining each of them in the new light of what he’d learned in the Margins.

  It began almost subliminally at first, sounding like the whispers that had followed him all day. Then it became louder, finally intruding into his consciousness.

  Tallinu!

  He needs to be focused on us.

  He’s not listening! Tallinu! Tallinu!

  Calls himself Kaid now.

  Kaid, dammit! Kaid!

  Confused, his chanting began to falter as he tried to sense who was calling him.

  He’s not responding. We can’t keep this up much longer!

  Get him to do it. He’s supposed to be the god, after all. Maybe he’ll listen to the doctor.

  God? What talk was this of gods?

  I can’t!

  You’d better, because we can’t get him otherwise!

  He heard the implicit threat. Litanies, chants, all forgotten, he began to mentally back away. This didn’t feel right. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to know. Then his mind was grasped and held. Powerless, he had no choice but to listen.

  Kaid, we’re not finished yet. There’s work
still to be done.

  No! I’ve done enough for you! No more, Vartra, no more! His mind shouted the refusal.

  You will return once more. You are at the heart of matters both here and in the future. You will return!

  NO!

  The room started to recede, and he felt himself pulled toward a heat and fire he recognized only too well.

  Got him!

  As if from a great height, he saw his body slump, then fall forward onto the floor. A white rime began to form over his robe, then, as panic started to take hold, the image faded and he was swept into a maelstrom of sound and heat and pain.

  Fire licked along his limbs, burning and consuming him. The smell of seared fur and flesh filled his nostrils, and as he opened his mouth to scream, flames gushed out. Mercifully, his senses left him.

  He woke to find himself lying on the floor wrapped in a damp robe. The lamp flame began to flicker as he pushed himself upright. Groggily he peered at it. The oil reservoir was nearly empty. He must have been asleep for several hours. Stiffly he got to his feet, wincing as his groin muscles complained. Too tired to be concerned, he blew out the meditation lamp and limped over to the bedside to activate the light. Stripping off his robe, he hung it over a chair to dry. With a shiver, he pulled back the covers and climbed into bed, passing his hand over the sensor to douse the light. Almost instantly, he was asleep.

  Morning brought a vague feeling of disquiet and uncertainty. His meditation the night before had resulted only in half a night’s sleep on the floor and the stiff and sore muscles that accompanied it.

  Getting out of bed, he dropped down onto all four limbs. It would be easier and less painful to ease his muscles this way. Arching his back upward, he stretched his spine first, all the way down to the tip of his tail. Then he leaned backward till his forearms touched the floor, straightening his spine and flexing the large muscles in his shoulders and neck, easing the kinks in his upper back. Standing up again, he extended first his left, then his right leg behind him. Before he reached full stretch, though, the tenderness in his groin made itself felt once more.

  Rearing upright, he gently pressed the inner surfaces of both thighs: definitely tender, which was both surprising and worrying as he’d not been with a female since the night he’d spent with Jaisa in the Margins. Even if he’d had company the night before, for those muscles to be painful was not normal.

  Something had caused it, but what? Using the skills Kusac had been teaching him, he searched his memory, finding nothing to give him even a clue as to what had happened the night before. He remembered meditating, then nothing until he’d wakened cold and damp in the early hours of the morning. He shivered, knowing it had nothing to do with the chill air. Resolutely he put it from his mind. Whatever the cause, a hot bath would help ease the aching muscles.

  A note from Ghyan inviting him to join him for first meal was waiting when he returned. Inevitably the conversation centered round Vartra and the Fire Margins.

  “Matters have gone beyond the point where we can discuss them on a personal basis, Ghyan. You’ll have to wait till Lijou briefs you himself.”

  “What can you tell me, then?” Ghyan asked in exasperation. “Tell me about the person!”

  Again the shiver as wisps of memory seemed to drift briefly through his mind. They were gone before he could pursue them. “He’s like us—subject to the same fears and self-doubt.” Yesterday he could have said more, now he felt unsure, as if the person he’d met in the past had retreated within the legend. The whole topic disturbed him deeply.

  He got to his feet. “I have to go, Ghyan. Thank you for your hospitality, but I’ve things I must do before the Validation ceremony starts.”

  He returned to his room, changing back into his ordinary clothes. Looking at the discarded robe, he reached for it, and folding it, placed it in the small bag he’d brought. The gap in his memory troubled him, as had the faint voices the day before. Was his mind becoming unstable? Was it, despite what Carrie said, due to his newly awakened Talent? His blood ran cold at the thought. To be rogue, with an unstable Talent! He had to go to Stronghold. He was a danger to himself and everyone, especially her and the cub.

  The afternoon sun had warmed the air, and Carrie found she wasn’t as cold as she’d feared. The Validation ceremony, because of its unique nature in their case, was being taken by Father Lijou himself at the Valsgarth Estate. Her attention, though she stood facing the Head Priest, wasn’t focused on him or the ceremony he was conducting. It was on her daughter, lying in the priest’s arms. Kashini was fretful, disliking being separated from her mother. Though silent, she was moving restlessly.

  It couldn’t last much longer, Carrie thought. Lijou had already confirmed that their new Clan was a legally designated branch of the Aldatan family, all that remained was the Validation of her daughter’s birth.

  Flanked by Kusac on one side and Kaid on the other, she was brought back to the present by a nudge in the ribs from each of them.

  “Since the time of the Cataclysm, the Validation of every cub has been important, but especially so when she is the firstborn and Heir of her Clan. So it is with Kashini,” Lijou was saying.

  Carrie took a deep breath and forced her mind into stillness, aware of the concern for her emanating from the two male Sholans at her sides. She could feel their mental presences supporting and encouraging her for the part she must now play in the proceedings.

  “It is time for Kashini’s mother to come forward and claim her daughter.”

  She could feel her heartbeat start to quicken as she took her first steps away from her life-mates and the anonymity she’d had during her pregnancy.

  Lijou’s mouth opened in a gentle, encouraging smile as she slowly walked toward him and held out her arms to receive her cub.

  With a purring trill of contentment, Kashini’s ears flicked in pleasure and her hands, tiny claws extended, reached out to catch hold of her mother’s long hair.

  This was the part she was dreading. Holding Kashini close, she turned to face the gathering, trying not to see the sea of faces now in front of her. The inhabitants of both estates had gathered to witness the ceremony. A flash of sunlight on metal drew her eyes briefly upward to where the autovid hovered above Rhaema Vorkoh of Infonet. She looked away, trying not to think of the fact that her image was being broadcast all over Shola—and beyond, to Keiss, where her father and brother would also be watching.

  Look at me, cub, sent Kusac. Forget everyone else. Remember only us and our family.

  Her eyes met his, then flicked briefly to Kaid. From both of them she felt the same support.

  “Carrie Aldatan, will you name Kashini’s father?” Lijou was asking.

  Moistening her lips, she glanced at Lijou before looking back to her mate. “My life-mate, Kusac Aldatan,” she said, aware of and annoyed by the tremor in her voice. To one side of the Clan gathering, she could see the visiting Humans standing watching. Suddenly light-headed, she gave a small shudder, then Kusac was standing in front of her, blocking her view.

  He touched her cheek with his hand before leaning forward to fold back the blanket that covered their cub.

  You’re doing fine, he sent. It’s almost over now.

  They’re both so different from me, she thought involuntarily as she watched his dark-furred hands reaching down for their child.

  The differences are only skin deep, you know that. His thoughts were a mental caress. Carefully he took hold of the cub, then turning, he lifted their newborn high above his head so the Clans could see her.

  Kusac’s voice rang out across the grounds. “Look well, Clansfolk, so that you’ll know your Liegena, Heir to the only En’Shalla Clan.”

  The roar of acceptance from the throats of the several hundred Sholans gathered there was deafening. Kashini added her comments by beginning to whimper and squirm, ears flattened to her skull in distress. After the warmth of her blanket, the cold of the afternoon air on her uncovered pelt was disquieting.
r />   Carrie had felt the mental sigh of relief from all the Sholans present as Kusac had held up their daughter: she was their Liegena no matter what her outward form, but in this time of rapid change, they were relieved that she appeared Sholan like themselves.

  Kusac cradled Kashini in his arms before turning back to his mate and holding out a hand for the blanket. As they wound her back in its comforting warmth, Carrie was aware of Lijou calling Kaid forward.

  “As the third in this Triad, Kaid Tallinu,” Lijou said to him, “you have a responsibility to this cub. Since her parents are Leskas, should anything happen to them, it will fall to you to raise their daughter.”

  Kaid nodded briefly as Kusac handed Kashini to him. Cautiously, he accepted the small bundle.

  “She’ll be like a daughter to me,” he said, holding her close for a moment before returning her to Carrie. As he did, he leaned toward her, one hand touching her neck as he placed his cheek against hers.

  Startled, she moved back slightly before checking herself. For him to touch her neck was to admit publicly to a physical intimacy with her.

  “It’s part of the ceremony,” Kaid murmured. “You need to do the same.”

  She returned the gesture, then, as he moved to her other side, she felt him retreat even farther behind his mental shields and cursed herself for inadvertently hurting him. Having their relationship announced so openly had taken her by surprise. It was too new for her to feel at ease with it yet.

  After the ceremony, they left the Clans feasting and returned to the main house with a small number of guests and close family members for their own quieter celebrations.

  Carrie settled herself in a large comfortable chair, Kusac standing beside her while their friends and guests came over to see the cub and exchange a few words with them. Kaid hovered nearby.

 

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