Balmythra

by Linda Palmer

Chapter Seven

  Petria

  I didn't like his worried expression or the fact that he might be telling me the truth. Fear gnawed at my insides.

  "That's it. Data overload." Matt groaned. "My head's about to split open."

  "More aftereffects." I felt guiltier than ever about the lack of consideration I’d shown my best friend.

  "Then why don't we go to Saironalis to rest and make our plans?" Jor pointed west. "That's my home, Matt. The protective effects of the Stream will wear off while we're there, but by then I'll have other means to keep us safe."

  Matt stood in silence for a second before responding. "Will they be hostile to an off-worlder? I don’t even speak the language."

  "Actually, Jor and I have been speaking Balmythran ever since we got here."

  "You swear?"

  "I swear." I gave him an apologetic smile. "I'd explain, but I'm not sure you're ready...."

  Matt held up a hand so I wouldn't even try.

  That seemed to decide Jor. "I think you need refreshment and the sooner the better."

  "You got that right." Matt's face lit up. "I'd kiss Mad Matilda for a Coke, and, believe me, that's going some."

  Jor arched an eyebrow. "Coke?"

  Matt's crestfallen expression said it all. Stifling a laugh, I gave Jor credit for doing as well as he was with earth words. Though older Sairons spoke very formally, the younger generation had clearly adopted modern earth slang into their vocabulary. "You win. Saironalis it is."

  "Good. My people can put up a thought net to protect us from the Dagonel. We'll eat, sleep—"

  "But Rocc—"

  "Will find us as soon as he gets here. At the moment, your safety is my first priority."

  Matt was a little worried. "Are you sure we can’t just hop into that Stream and get the heck out? I mean, it might actually be the safest thing to do if this place is crawling with Dragonel—"

  "Dagonel." Jor and I said it together.

  Matt sighed. "Lighten up, would you? I'm just yanking your chains."

  I rolled my eyes even though I was glad he'd found his sense of humor. "Sairons—that's what Jor is—are the only ones who can find a Xephyr Stream since it constantly shifts. Locating one will take time. Mordachs can also find them, but we'd have to follow one around for no telling how long."

  "Do I want to know what a mordach is?"

  "A chupacabra." Chupacabra? My answer shocked me as much as it did Matt. I spun to face Jor. "Where'd that come from?"

  "It's starting." He smiled rather smugly.

  "What is?" Matt asked.

  "Eniywan?" Once more I directed my question at Jor.

  He nodded.

  Matt frowned. "Come again?"

  "Eniywan. It's a super awareness future Guardians get as they mature," Jor said. "She acquires memories that are not her own, memories that will help her guide her people, the Ionians, when she assumes her official duties."

  "But I’m way too young for Eniywan to begin." I deliberately didn't look in Matt's direction. He'd just heard the word Guardian for the second time and was bound to be wondering what it meant. I didn't want to go there just yet. "It shouldn’t happen for several more years."

  Jor turned away, clearly uncomfortable. "Perhaps this is a side effect of your stay on earth. Whatever, we need to be on our way."

  I sighed from the heart. "How far, then?" Glancing west, I saw a figure approaching in the distance. I quickly shaded my eyes with my hand so I could see better.

  "Um...what century is it in Balmythra, anyway?" asked Matt, sure indication he, too, doubted what he now saw.

  "Twenty-first, same as earth."

  "Hm." Matt continued to stare at the person who drew closer by the second.

  I could now make out a teenaged Native American girl, wearing full buckskin regalia, complete with fringe and knee-high moccasins. Her long black hair appeared to be pulled straight back from her face. I guessed she wore a single braid in back. An intricately beaded band about an inch wide encircled her head and served as anchor to three leather strands. Colorful feathers dangled from each and danced playfully in the breeze.

  "Who the heck is that?" Matt's gaze was glued to our stunning visitor and the horse she led.

  "Petria Rainshadow." I surprised myself again. "And don't ask how I know."

  Belatedly, I realized that Jor had let go of me and slipped past us at some point. He hurried to meet Petria a few yards away. He held up a hand, shoulder high and palm outwards, in greeting; Petria did the same thing.

  "I thought that was just something they did in bad westerns," Matt muttered just as Petria flashed the biggest, brightest smile I'd ever seen. Matt's soft "Whoa" told me that the striking contrast of her white teeth to her dusky skin and dark brown eyes didn't go unappreciated.

  "Actually, a raised hand is the traditional Balmythran greeting."

  "Sort of like a Vulcan hello but without the finger split?"

  "Uh-huh."

  Matt kept his gaze on our visitor, who now stood in deep conversation with Jor. "That Eniywan thing is pretty sweet, isn't it? I mean, you know all kinds of stuff, even the names of people you've never met."

  "It'd be sweeter if I could control it." I gave Matt a sliver of my concentration. The rest stayed on Jor and Petria. What were they talking about so earnestly? Since I didn't trust him or know her, I naturally wondered. "Eniywan is kind of like using a search engine on the internet. I can only access information other Ionians have in their heads, and I've got to know what to ask for before I can retrieve it."

  "Bet that takes practice, huh?"

  "Yeah, and it doesn't help that random stuff keeps popping into my head." I kept staring at Jor and Petria. At that moment, the pair turned and walked over.

  "Greetings." Petria raised her hand the moment she reached us. Her body language included Matt in the welcome, but her bright eyes stayed glued to me. Jor waited for my polite response before introducing us all formally. "It's such an honor to finally meet you, Guardian Alleana."

  Matt arched an eyebrow in mild surprise at Petria's words, probably because she spoke so respectfully. I quickly set her straight. "I'm a long way from that."

  "Oh." Petria flicked an uncertain glance at Jor before abruptly changing the subject. "I totally adore your big brother. Where is he, by the way? Tirafalen has been a mess since he left."

  Tirafalen? I tried to search my memories for information, but all I retrieved for my efforts was an aqua haze.

  "Rocc is in Nodyra for now." Jor spoke before I could verbalize my concerns for my sibling.

  Nodyra. Hadn't heard that word in a while. I saw Matt mentally tuck it away and knew I'd need to define the local term for earth first chance I got.

  Jor kept his gaze on Petria. "I should probably explain his delay to her."

  Petria definitely agreed. "She's feeding in the valley, I think."

  Feeding? Matt and I exchanged a quick glance.

  Jor nodded. "That's just as well. We're eager to leave for Saironalis. Matt is still a little shaken from the journey by Xephyr Stream. I think food and drink will help him, and the sooner the better."

  Matt flushed and shot an irritated glance Jor's way. "I'm okay now."

  Trying to ease the tension, I turned to Matt. "This was your first experience. I promise it gets easier every time."

  "And thank goodness for that." Petria grimaced as if remembering something unpleasant. "You know, the road to Saironalis is pretty long if you're hurt." She closely inspected Matt's eye, apparently assuming he'd injured it on the trip from earth. "Maybe you should snack on some wani nuts before you go."

  Matt silently asked me for an explanation. Wishing I'd thought of that, myself, I crooked a finger at him and walked the few feet to the nearest bagowan tree. Bending down, I swept the ankle-high grass with my fingers. I uncovered some lemon-sized green ovals and picked them up, showing Matt what they were like before I pocketed a few.

  "Wani is short for bagowan." I pointed
out others scattered all about.

  He gathered some, eyeing them curiously. "This is a nut? The shell feels sort of soft."

  "Which is a good thing, since we don't have a xox to open it. Before you ask, that's a curved knife made especially for wani nuts, which are a popular snack around here. Do you have your pocket knife?"

  "Always."

  "Then you can use that to open it, but be careful. It's easy to cut yourself doing this. Or we can just use a rock." I saw a fairly flat rock, then a round one, and made short work of cracking open the nut between them.

  When I handed Matt the brownish meat of it, he popped it into his mouth without hesitation. "Not too bad. Tastes like a cross between cinnamon and chocolate."

  "Wani nuts were always Alleana’s favorite." Jor joined us in the shade provided by the huge bagowan leaves. "When she was little, she ate them until brown juice stained her face, hands, and clothes. Her Nanny Kafryn finally gave up and dressed her in wani-nut brown. Of course, all the other Vannarian girls wanted tunics to match."

  "Thanks so much for sharing that." I'd never been more embarrassed.

  He gave me a grin. "Shall we go?"

  "Please."

  Jor turned to Petria. "Will you walk with us?"

  "Actually, I'm on my way to a gathering, the reason for all this." She ran her fingers through the long white fringe that adorned her sleeves and hems. "My people are Ojibwa, Matt. Nodyran transplants, just like you. So I'm usually wearing jeans and Nikes I get from my Nodyran kin. We dress up when we get together once a month to reminisce and keep our traditions alive."

  "Have a safe journey." Jor nodded a solemn good-bye and we parted ways, with her heading east and us moving down the hillside in a westerly direction. The grass parted like a sea behind Jor as he walked. Following, I realized that he wore decidedly Balmythran foot gear, in the form of soft leather knee boots, barely noticeable under his Levis. I couldn't help smiling.

  "What?" Matt instantly asked from beside me.

  "Nothing." I really didn't think Matt would find Jor's choice of footwear as funny as I did.

  "Who is Tirafalen?"

  "I'm wondering that, myself." I hesitated and then lowered my voice a notch. "Something about Jor isn't right."

  Matt pounced on that. "You think he's hurt Rocc?"

  "The Rocc I remember can take care of himself." I sighed. "I don't know. Maybe I've got Stream lag or something."

  "Maybe. I know I do." He didn't speak for several minutes. "Will I be able to understand the people in this village we're going to?"

  "Uh-huh."

  "Want to tell me how?

  "This may take a while to explain...."

  Matt considered the pebbled crossroad we'd just reached, no doubt noticing that it seemed to go on forever in both directions. "Apparently, we've got the time."

  Where should I begin? "Most inhabitants of Balmythra can communicate without actually speaking."

  "You mean you guys read minds?" Matt, a step behind, caught me by the shoulders and spun me so that we stood face to face...or, actually, forehead to chin.

  "It's more like sharing emotions or intentions or maybe even unspoken ideas." I didn't add that Jor had been trying to connect in that way ever since the Stream had spit us out.

  "Well, that's clear as mud."

  "Sorry."

  "If I were Balmythran, could you and Jor have a mental conversation without me picking up on it?"

  "Yes, but it’s considered extremely rude to shut a person out." At that moment Jor glanced over his shoulder, no doubt to find out what kept us. He tensed ever so slightly when he saw how Matt held onto my shoulders, and I felt his abrupt mental pull back. The sensation, though a relief, left me feeling confused.

  Apparently Matt didn't pick up on that, which made sense. Most of his attention now seemed focused on the scenery, and no wonder. It was pretty amazing. I stole a moment to breathe in the crisp Balmythran air. My loving gaze took in every detail. It felt so good to be home again.

  We walked at a leisurely pace, pebbles crunching underfoot, probably in deference to Matt though he'd clearly found his land legs. A short time later, the path turned to the north, skirting a grove of trees. As we rounded the curve, a garden came into view, colorful with local flowers.

  I caught my breath at the sight. Matt simply stopped walking. In the newfound silence, singing could be heard—enchanting voices that lifted my spirits to the clouds and beyond.

  "Where's the music coming from?" Matt asked.

  I pointed to a group of Adagiolani, or garden singers, barely visible among some nydranga in full bloom. Vibrant crimson in color, the huge petal clusters hung over the ground, looking too beautiful to be real. In contrast, the yellow blossoms of the danodyle were tiny, as were the lavender westuranya that climbed the ornate trellises.

  "They're garden singers—Balmythrans whose melodies manipulate the growth of the plants."

  "You're kidding, right?"

  I just smiled.

  "Is this more Eniywan talking, or do you actually remember?"

  "This, I remember. There are amazing gardens around here, and I've always loved watching the singers at work. They can control how big and tall a plant gets."

  "No way."

  Silence reigned for several minutes while Matt and I enjoyed the exquisite harmony. Not far past the garden, I noticed a group of people, standing in a circle in a field. Too intent on their work to see the three of us, the men and women held hands, eyes closed. I guessed at once what they were doing and elbowed Matt sharply in the ribs. "Watch this."

  He did...just in time to see air movement in the middle of the circle and what appeared to be four columns of clear gelatin rise up from nothing.