* * *
If his mind weren’t distracted, Shoroko might’ve admired how Thedarra seated everyone so that the only remaining dry spot was beside her. Though he slurped his food and stared in every direction but hers, avoiding conversation was futile.
“Didn’t get too much rain, so plowing should go well this week,” said Thedarra. “How’s your little brother with the new quagga team?”
“Jory can handle it.” Shoroko bit off a hunk of bread so he wouldn’t have to talk.
“Your darda must be taking it hard. My brothers can handle our planting; if you want, I can help your emmaw prepare her garden.”
Shoroko set his bowl down. He didn’t want her help, even less be reminded he was needed at home. Migration years everything had to be planted early, or the flocks would eat the seed. He’d promised to escort Melissa to Four Rivers and ensure she got a fair trial, and he would.
Thedarra pointed to Callyglip. “He’s picking up the cooking. The supply train’s heading northwest to Seremarid Gap tomorrow, then east to Wall Ridge the day after that. In three days they’ll make Four Rivers. I could be at your place in Agotaras Springs tomorrow evening if I ride. Two extra days readying the farm is a lot. Then meet the elders in the city the next day for the hearing.”
“Too dangerous.”
“I’m going. I’ll start breakfast with Cally and be gone by sunrise.”
“You know I’ll have to come with you. Why are you making this so difficult?”
She crossed her arms. “I didn’t create the migration. I didn’t set the seasons. I didn’t give your parents a reason to mourn. We have to survive. I know you don’t care for me, and you can spit at my offer, but they need help and our families have always been close.” She shoved his chest. “I said I’d help you with White Talon, and I will. You want that, so let me help you.”
Shoroko stood up. “First light we leave.” He looked at Melissa then turned away, stared at his feet, and muttered about having to brush burrs out of Fear’s coat.
* * *
An hour before sunset, dinner concluded. Melissa rose. “I must speak with Jessnee alone.” He consented and they marched off among the reeds in silence. The coo, coo, chee-chee-chee of a sky blue bird perched in a spreading tree with a gnarled trunk and serpentine branches kept their ears busy while they waited for answers from the other without having to speak first. Melissa plopped down beneath the tree. The bird, instead of squawking in protest and flitting away, flew down, perched on her snout and proceeded to peck at remains from lunch stuck in her gums. The trusting service of the tiny helper so mesmerized her that she forgot her purpose, until Jessnee cleared his throat.
“You wanted to speak with me, honorable hlissak?” He ran his fingers through his beard, then when she stared at him, put his hands behind his back.
Why can’t I tell you how I feel? When I was a struggling med student overawed by your height, quick mind and charm, and knew if I told you I loved you when we were walking through the Arnold Arboretum on Lilac Sunday that my mom would see it written on my face and she’d tell dad and he’d overrule me and I’d meekly comply so I said nothing and now I’m ten times your size and can breathe fire and my dad is light years away and I still can’t say the words. The little, blue toothbrush flew off and Melissa settled on safe words. “Your quick thinking in tossing me that vine saved my life as much as the angel of the Remenee.”
Jessnee held his palm out dismissively. “I am a healer; my actions should not surprise you. The actions of the golden angel should.”
“It is unusual for the creature to rescue those trapped in the osh?”
“No. It is unusual for it to rescue Claws trapped in the osh. All others it aids eagerly. Even Hands.”
It happens again. First the unicorn, now a tar-covered hlisskan senses I’m not what I appear to be. On Earth, hiding soul-hopping habits is cake. Why does everyone here have to be so smart? “What are your thoughts on this creature? Is it the great, wingless saurian that appeared on the day of division long ago?” Melissa watched as Jessnee puffed out his chest. Good. You were never happier than when explaining your latest research. Forget about Melissa.
“I believe it is. First, the golden dragon appeared alone; all other known hlisskans arrived in pairs. Second, observation establishes that even when separated by great distances, a hlisskan can locate its mate, and always chooses to do so. This one is no different. It must be drawn to the osh pits because its mate feels closer here than elsewhere. Third, if its mate is alive and not on Kibota, it is certainly not on…”
“On Earth?”
“Yes. There’s nowhere there something so unusual could hide. I conclude the other dragon is trapped in Nehenoth.”
“How lonely,” said Melissa. “To be the only one of your kind and live forever. Perhaps it’s out of loneliness that it aids creatures that get mired.”
“No, I believe that’s its true nature. It’s the selectivity that needs explanation.”
“We Lissai brought it here alone, and it remembers.”
“Exactly. Such memory suggests intelligence. It appeared when the languages were confused, so it’s another victim of that event, but with no other of its kind, there is no one who can understand it.”
“Unless the golden one caused the division.”
Jessnee studied her eyes. “A formidable power. The angel’s animosity toward your kind is real, yet it’s had millennia to reprise that event and exact vengeance, and hasn’t.” He faced the marsh, holding his hands behind his back. “Still, I’ve never heard such speculation about the creature’s abilities. When Claws tell a story, once accepted it is never altered, especially if that story is older than the trees.” He turned around. “You’ve seen things, White Talon, have your own opinion, and plot an independent course. I know from Shoroko about Shorassa’s death and your unprecedented surrender to Hand justice. I also know he’s withholding something substantial. He’s always been transparent in our dealings. You want to know why I’m interested in this golden mystery? First tell me what you’ve seen and why you’ve set aside honor, freedom and the strength of your klatch.”
When she met Shoroko, he had a klafe in his hand, sharpened to strike. Jessnee’s knife was sharper, and he held it in his mouth. What happened to the scientist who was playful and careless about anything outside his lab? She doubted the man before her had piles of laundry and an empty fridge. Shoroko’s description of Jessnee’s activities made him sound eccentric, like the Jason she’d known, but his face said otherwise. He was not aiming for scientific glory or intellectual novelty. His trek through the swamps was not eccentric; it was earnest. What about being a councilman? Jason never showed interest in politics.
As Melissa looked him over with every ounce of perception afforded by her human and lissine natures, Jessnee straightened his shoulders and stared back with no trace of his former timidity. What changed you, Jason? Melissa’s thoughts fastened on her loss. She longed for someone here to whom she could relate. She longed that her loneliness would lessen by finding a real ally. All fruitless longings, because a stranger occupied Jason’s body. But what a body, and what a man! Not as muscular as Shoroko, but twice as strong as the man she remembered, not just his arms but his heart. A leader, fearless, resourceful, surviving in a strange world and fitting in. Truly a guide with advice that she needed, but one too cunning to fool.
Melissa’d been able to let go of him because as she matured, she’d discovered his flaws and hoped for a better man. Now she was looking at that man, and her letting go was letting go. A sensation slithered up and down inside her limbs. It was cold and warm and since adapting to her new body, a feeling she’d not experienced, a feeling natural to a thirty-something doctor, but not an ancient dragon. It was the kind of feeling that makes you blurt out things because the spell makes you think the one whose eyes you are lost in has those feelings, too. “Why?”
He blinked. “Why what?”
“What drives you? What puts m
uscles on your arms and sends you alone into swamps home to creatures many times your size? What raises you up above men native to this world and makes them respect you? Why are you who you are and not who you were? And having all this, why are you determined to return to the world you left?” Why do you want to leave me again? She snapped her mouth shut. Did I say that or just think it? She held her breath.
Jessnee pointed his finger at her, but his face went blank in puzzlement. He found that look disagreeable, rearranged his eyes and flared his nose. “Now see – you – answer my question first!”
Melissa sat back on her hind legs, crossed her arms and thumped her tail. She was not going to answer. But when Jessnee stared at her the wrong way, she uncrossed her arms and stood tall.
“I will not be mocked!” said Jessnee, while waving and pointing wildly. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what you’re doing. You Claws never cross your arms except when telling stupid Hand jokes when you think we can’t hear you. Tell me what I want to know or this meeting is over!”
A shadow slid across the marsh as a cloud passed before the sinking sun. It resembled a dragon only in her imagination, but that was enough. “You want to know what I see? Chasing specters through the mud will never lead you where you want to go. The golden dragon’s as close to the gateway as it can get, but the door is up, not down, and it doesn’t have wings.”
“You know this?”
“I flew into a thundercloud. The irrigator is nearby. It opens the way at the whim of a fractured mechanism. I saw Silverthorn. He is there, in danger, and trapped. To pass through, we need another way. This one’s not the intended entrance to Nehenoth. The storms it dispenses will destroy any who approach.”
In an instant, Jessnee’s anger, suspicion and passion drained from his face and he slumped down onto a rock.
“What drives you, Jason?” As soon as she said his true name, Melissa became quiet. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.
“I need medicine, equipment. I’ve tried to manage without the tools of my trade, but one man cannot replicate the results of hundreds of years of concerted effort by thousands of men cleverer than himself.”
“The migration. You want to prepare for outbreaks of disease.”
“No. Disease will come, and medicine would help, but this disease is already here, and I’m out of time.” His strength failed and he sobbed. When his tear ducts were empty, he looked up at Melissa, and saw tears like his own. “You are not what I expected of a hlissak. Your care extends beyond your kind, like the Lissai of legend who welcomed all living things. Your mannerisms, your peculiar questions, your…” He looked away, clapped his hand over his mouth and stood up. When he turned around again, his face was stricken. “I am so sorry. You want to know why I’m searching so hard? My daughter is going to die.”
The circulatory system of an olissair is efficient and resilient. None ever fainted – until that day. Melissa awoke to the echo of a memory. Daughter, daughter, daughter. Daughter meant there was a mother, and mother meant there was a wife, and that wife was not her. As she struggled to her feet, another echo entered her brain. Melissa, Melissa, Melissa. Jessnee stood before her, but it was Jason who was weeping. He knew.
Chapter 12: Supplanted
April 7th. The Road to Seremarid Gap.
When Melissa awoke, the first rays of sun struck the snowy peaks of the northernmost spur of the Talon Mountains to the west. Her hope that she could rope Shoroko, Thedarra, Jessnee, K'Pinkelek and Soorararas into a meeting, lay out her cards and persuade them to work with her was dashed; Shoroko had already ridden off for home with Thedarra to help his family with the planting. She overheard Ecraveo arguing with Jessnee behind a tree and crept closer to hear.
“I feel terrible about your daughter, councilor, but we need you to survey the earthworks at the gap and describe your strategy to the herders. They’ll be exposed and need confidence this will work.” Ecraveo’s voice carried not its typical brashness, but pleading.
“All they need is extended drills using the blow guns,” said Jessnee. “The shipment of tranquilizing agent I mixed arrives at the Wall tonight. It should retain its potency for two weeks. I’ll ready another shipment before the heart of the migration arrives. My daughter needs me; I’m going.”
Melissa’s chest constricted. She held back the flames of her anguish, lest she start a brush fire. Another ally is leaving me. All this power inside, and I can’t do anything. Okay, nameless one, what do I do? I am a woman and I think like a woman. I need to think like a Lissai.
“The men know you’re smart. They know your drugs will immobilize any creature but a hlisskan. They have your plans and materials.” Ecraveo prodded Jessnee with his index finger. “But they need you. I know you like to work alone, but they need a leader. This has never been tried. They have wives and children, and their kids will be getting sick, too. This is your duty.”
How could Melissa stop Jessnee from leaving? The voice in her head was silent, and the only dragonish thing she could think of was to bellow and threaten to fry him if he walked, certain to endear her to the Hands. Only Ecraveo’s paean to leadership as sacrifice rang true. With no time to be clever, she stomped around the tree and blurted, “Councilor Jessnee, accompany the Wall Marshal to the gap. I will fly, heal your daughter and rejoin the party.”
Jessnee’s expression ranged from irritation, to hope, to anger. “Heal? How? Did you bring equipment from…” He caught himself before hinting at her true identity.
Ecraveo clenched his fists at the suggestion that his captive fly off unescorted, then relaxed. “White Talon has demonstrated an unparalleled ability to heal. If her departure with a solemn oath to return is the price of your accompanying us to the Wall, I’ll allow it.”
They struck an agreement. Jessnee composed a note for Melissa to give his wife, while she gathered K'Pinkelek and Soorararas for a meeting. When she addressed them in siglissik, Soorararas widened his eyes. “My own hlissak is conversant? I regret whatever failing of mine compelled you not to take me earlier into the fold of your wings.”
“The failing is not yours,” said Melissa in the silent speech. “I acquired this ability since last we met.”
“How?”
“The lightning imparted it. K'Pinkelek told me of its origin.” She cocked her head and squinted her eyes at the red lissair. “But not its importance. I infer that its being kept secret from a hlissak yet shared among members of different klatches means there is a faction that crosses bloodlines. Correct? For what purpose?” The two exchanged uneasy glances. “I am not acting as hlissak today. What oaths have you taken?”
The Red and White lissairn stared at each other until K'Pinkelek bowed his head. Soorararas signed. “In the days of Silverthorn, the welfare of all Kibota was uppermost in the mind of our leaders. His example of self-sacrifice earned the respect of Claws and Hands. Such cooperation cannot endure long without commitment and discipline, so he established a secret group whose members advocate harmony between all the klatches, the Tongues of Silver. We were forbidden to recruit Lissai from senior leadership, so as not to become entangled in divisive issues or pose insurmountable conflicts of loyalty. We are peacemakers, quietly defusing plots that threaten war. Knowing this, White Talon, what is your intent?”
The morning’s still air changed. Melissa said, “Wet air blows in from the desert. We will have a severe migration. With the trials we face, would new ideas be welcome?”
“Yes,” they said in unison, abandoning siglissik for open speech.
“What if those ideas came from another world?” said Melissa.
“We are already accommodating new tactics proposed by Councilor Jessnee,” said K'Pinkelek. “We shall attempt to separate hlisskans from their herds and drive leaderless animals back into the desert, while directing the hlisskans onward to the Census Stone. Have you also seen things from his world that might benefit us?”
Time to double down. I’ll lose everything if they reject me. The wind drove in t
he first wispy clouds, making the trees sway. “Yes, I’ve seen the other world,” she said aloud. Then she switched to siglissik. “I’ve seen it because I’m from it. I am not White Talon.”
The two lissairn retreated a pace and dug their claws into the dirt. Their manes stood straight, and puffs of flame erupted from their mouths.
“I swore an oath to White Talon to protect her interests until her spirit safely returns. I intend to fulfill that vow.” Melissa stood her ground, but made no change in her posture to defend herself. After enduring a minute of silent glares, she resumed. “You can expose me, imprison me, kill me, or exile me with one result: the current leadership of Rampart will lose its legitimacy and a struggle will ensue. The other klatches will be emboldened to seize headship over all Kibota and civil war will begin. You will lose the respect of the Hands, and without their cooperation, famine will strike.”
Soorararas signed. “Your cunning and knowledge of our ways are too great for you to have come upon us mere days ago. Your planning and easy affiliation with the Hands means you came here deliberately, by stealth and with ill intent.”
Melissa lost her cool. “I am so stealthy! So cunning, I allowed myself to be captured and hauled off to trial for a crime I didn’t commit! So clever to confess I’m not the olissair you’ve always trusted! So crafty, I abdicated my post and appointed honorable and capable lissairn to rule in my place! Yes, I get along with Hands, because I am a woman, just like Thedarra.” Only prettier. “Don’t you find it strange that they trust an olissair claiming to be human, occupying the body of one who killed someone they love, when you will not trust a scared exile from her own world who has no allies at present and while struggling to stay alive has striven with everything she has to bring peace at her own expense? You spoke of your respect for Jessnee. He and I were once lovers! Would a man like him consort with the scheming, manipulative, underhanded creature you say I am? I’m headed for one trial; why not ready another in case the Hands exonerate me? Clearly bullets, a klafe, poisoned liosh, a pair of taggers, a band of farmers, a flight of Reds, and an osh pit weren’t enough to finish me off. I am so looking forward to getting trampled by dinosaurs.” She shut up and panted.
A Most Refined Dragon Page 12
