Chapter 8

 

I stumbled beside Vance. He weaved side to side as he tried to keep up with the Sessimoniss and drag me along. The air filled with a thicker smell of smoke and cooking. And a silence that muffled everything, the silence that only a large group of people standing very still can make.

The rock underfoot was smoother, the loose stones and grit missing. The Sessimoniss turned to one side. We climbed a ramp, winding between fingers of stone that reached to the roof of the cavern. They finally halted at the top, where the ramp flattened out and widened.

I reeled against Vance, trying desperately to keep to my feet. The Koresh'Niktakket wasn't amused this time. He watched me, as coldly as only his race could manage. I tried to stand, to straighten my swollen knee. I reached into my shipsuit and pulled out the Eggstone once again. The Sessimoniss deliberately turned his head to look out into the open space of the cavern. I followed his lead.

The Sessimoniss stood below, mostly warriors, but I glimpsed others hidden among the rocks, dreshtarrit, the low ranking males who did the work that was beneath a warrior, and skitarrit, immature females who also served their clans. I caught a glimpse of several Sessimoniss who could only be their very young. They were all silent, watching me. Torchlight flickered yellow along stone columns. The cavern was huge, stretching back into darkness. I saw crude shelters of cloth and stone. Somewhere in the distance water dripped slow and quiet, echoing through the rocks.

"The Eggstone has returned," Koresh'Niktakket of Kishtosnitass announced. He raised his arms, his spear brushing against the roof of the cavern. "Behold the Priestess of the Eggstone, Heshk Bashnessit!"

His words echoed. The warriors stirred restlessly. There were no cheers, no welcoming shouts.

I wasn't sure what they expected of me. I took one shaky step away from Vance and raised the dark stone over my head, cradled in both hands.

They stirred again. Koresh'Niktakket of Kishtosnitass watched me, his yellow eyes unreadable. He finally lowered his spear, slamming it against the stone underfoot. It boomed hollowly through the cave.

The warriors below shouted, once, a wordless sound that was both support and challenge. I lowered the Eggstone and turned to the Sessimoniss leader. I clenched my teeth against pain as I bowed to him, the Eggstone still held in front of me. I moved slowly, afraid of falling flat on my face. I managed the bow and straightened.

The Sessimoniss searched my face for a very long moment before he solemnly returned my bow with a warrior's salute.

"We have no rooms for you here," he said at length. We were still the center of attention in the cavern. No one had moved or spoken since that wordless shout. "No altar, no robes of state."

"They are not necessary," I said and hoped I got the pronunciation close enough. I was ready to collapse and the Eggstone wasn't helping me with language.

"Then we offer you our cave," he said and swept his hand to the back of the ledge where we stood.

I nodded. I had to take Vance's arm before I could turn and hobble to the dark hole showing between two pillars of knobby stone. He stuck with me, holding me up without being too obvious.

A skitarrit, wearing a tattered brown robe that only servants of the Eggstone wore, scrambled in ahead of us, a torch clutched in one hand. We followed her in. She stuck the torch in a crude holder made from piled stones and bowed low before scurrying away.

I let go of Vance's arm and slowly sank to sit on the uneven floor. The room was a lumpy bubble of rock maybe ten feet wide and twenty long. The floor rose in bumps and waves. The ceiling was studded with dripping columns of stone. No water flowed in the cavern now, but there was plenty of evidence that it had in the past.

Vance turned to the entrance, rubbing absently at his arm. "Are you going to explain? They've posted guards at the door. To keep us in or to keep others out?"

"Both, most likely." I bent over my sore leg and gingerly felt my knee. It was swollen and painful. The seams in my boots strained over my swollen ankle. My foot was numb. "Don't try leaving. They won't hesitate to kill you."

"Why haven't they killed us already? Everything in your previous report—"

"You read that?" I looked up from my twisted knee to study Vance. In the torchlight he looked different, harder and tired. And older.

"Lowell insisted."

The price I'd paid to get charges dropped against me when I was mixed up with the Sessimoniss before was to submit to a full recall session with the Patrol's psych techs. They drained every bit of information about the Sessimoniss out of me. It was not an experience I wanted to remember.

"They've changed," I said, turning my attention back to my leg. This time I touched my ankle. It was sore, and swollen, but not the shooting pain I expected. I tugged at my boot.

Vance sat near me and reached for my ankle. He rubbed it through my boot. I tried not to wince too noticeably. He worked my boot off. It didn't want to come. My ankle was so swollen it was too tight. He kept working it free. I sighed with relief when it finally slid off. I wriggled toes that were purple with bruises and lack of circulation.

"So, tell me what's changed," Vance said. His dark eyes watched me, his face giving nothing away.

I shrugged. I wasn't sure what was different, beyond the obvious.

"I was trained for this, Dace. Not for wilderness survival, but rather to make contact with them. Except the ship that was supposed to return for me never came back."

"So Lowell sent you off with me instead." I eased back against the rock. I was tired and thirsty and hungry and in pain. I touched the dried blood that still stiffened my hair. My head was tender underneath. I left it alone. "Don't think about making contact on your own," I warned Vance. "They'll kill you."

"You said that before." He was still studying me, I could almost see him cataloguing my faults in his head. "I can speak their language. Not as well as you, but a little. Explain why I shouldn't try to talk to them."

I lifted the Eggstone from my lap. It was still inert, still distant and untouchable. I couldn't even feel the thin tendril of thought that had touched me earlier.

"Go ahead and try," I told Vance. "They barely tolerate me. I don't know what happened, except it was bad. They shouldn't be living in a cave, not like this."

"You knew their leader," Vance prodded.

"He was Dresh'Nikterrit, third son, of one of the six most powerful clans, last time I was here. Now he's Koresh'Niktakket, clan leader, but he no longer has a clan. He's still wearing the tunic of a Dresh'Nikterrit. I didn't recognize anyone from the other six leading clans out there."

"How do you know all that? Explain it to me."

I was saved from saying something rude by the appearance of two raggedly dressed skitarrit. They both wore the brown of the Eggstone's temple servants. They brought a single worn blanket and a crude wooden bowl full of water. They set them down and bowed, touching their heads on the stones before backing out of the room.

"This is as good as it gets," I said as I dipped a handful of water to drink.

Vance looked at the single blanket then back at me.

"We make the best of it," I said. "I doubt they have more to share." The Sessimoniss looked destitute. There were too few possessions for the number of them out in the cave.

"For how long?" Vance asked. He ran a hand through his hair. It wasn't perfectly neat now. It was matted and stuck up strangely in back.

I didn't bother to answer. It was a question I wasn't ready to face yet.

The skitarrit came back carrying a single platter of the pasty grain that was the staple of their diet. There were two small kizzt on the tray. Kizzt were mostly huge eyes with six sets of legs attached to their skinny bodies. Vance poked them after the skitarrit left.

"You eat the eyes," I said.

"I know." He picked one up.

"They aren't bad, once you get used to the crunch." I picked up the other and popped one eye in my mouth. It was food and I was too hungry to be picky.

"I don't think I'm quite that hungry yet," Vance said. "You can have mine."

"Unless things have changed a lot more than I think, they are all mine. They don't even recognize you as a person. They're feeding the priestess of the Eggstone. Other humans don't exist."

"That has changed a bit," Vance said. "They made contact not long after you got back. They worked out a trade agreement."

"Not the ones here on Serrimonia. The rules about outsiders don't apply when they're in their ships, outside of their territory."

He didn't believe me. He was going to do something stupid, like trying to talk to them without me. I sighed and ate a fingerful of the pasty grain. It was bland, but it was hot and it was food.

"Give me a few days to find out what's happened," I said. "Then you can try making contact on your own. And hope they don't just poison you."

He scooped up a fingerful of the grain and popped it in his mouth.

"It's going to take both of us to get back out of here," I said. "Trust me, Vance."

"You think we have a chance?"

"We're still alive," I said, shrugging. "There's always a chance while you still breathe."

We finished the food in silence. He winced as I crunched the kizzt legs. I drank more of the water. My leg ached fiercely, my liberated ankle throbbed worse than ever. I was also more tired than I could remember ever being. My head pounded in time with my ankle. I crawled to the blanket and dragged it to the flattest spot in the cave. Vance just watched.

I lay down, pulling the blanket over me. I fell asleep with him still watching me in the flickering torchlight.

I dreamed of cool stone floors and trickling fountains. I dreamed of the skystone altar of the Eggstone. I dreamed the dreams of priestesses gone for a hundred thousand years. I felt the Eggstone in my mind, a distant presence. Its voice was weak, thin as the wind that scoured the far deserts. I heard it whisper in my mind, begging for help for its people. I woke with a promise on my lips.

I was warm. I blinked drowsily at the stone overhead. My leg wasn't aching, yet. I knew as soon as I moved it would let me know how abused it was. My head was clear, for the moment. I watched torchlight dance on the stone while I woke up the rest of the way.

Someone breathed in my ear. I turned my head. Vance lay next to me, the blanket stretched over him. He was deeply asleep, his head turned towards me. I studied his face, relaxed and open in sleep. Who was he really? Why had Lowell sent him with me? And how were we going to get off this planet to report back?

I sighed. I didn't have those answers. I didn't have the information I needed to begin to find them.

I had no idea what time of day or night it was, either. I moved my leg, waiting for pain. It came. I managed to climb out of the blanket and tottered away, looking for a corner that would work as a latrine. The Sessimoniss had already rigged one corner, a small bubble in the rock equipped with sand and a bucket.

I came back into the cave and sat on a ledge of stone, propping my swollen leg in front of me. The other bruises from the crash and our trip across the desert were making themselves felt. I hated the cave, I hated the primitive conditions. Mostly, I hated being stranded. Jasyn was going to worry when I didn't show up on Tebros like I'd promised. I hoped Lowell could keep her and Clark from doing something stupid. They would come to rescue me when I didn't show up, I knew they would. And then they would be shot down. We hadn't had a chance, even in the specially equipped ship Lowell had provided. The Phoenix wouldn't stand a chance either. And then they'd be stranded on Serrimonia with me, if they weren't dead. That was the last thing I wanted to happen.

I pulled out the Eggstone, watching the firelight reflect on its glossy surface. The webbing of cracks was still there, grayish silver against deep black. My best option was to find a way off planet as soon as possible. The only ships I knew about were back at the city, on a plateau overlooking the ruins. They were Sessimoniss ships, I wasn't sure I could fly one.

I wasn't going to get far without information. I needed to know what was happening with the Sessimoniss before I could plan anything.

Vance stirred in his sleep. I glanced over at him. Lowell said he was one of his top agents. There had to be more to Vance than good looks. I owed him my life. If he hadn't dragged me free of the ship and carried me here, I wouldn't have made it. I wasn't comfortable with that thought. I hated owing things to people I didn't know.

I stroked the surface of the Eggstone, waiting for a response. None came. It may as well have been just a stone.

One of the skitarrit scurried into the room with a fresh bucket of water. She ducked her scaled head when she saw I was awake and scuttled back out.

I wondered again about the Sessimoniss. I'd had little contact with any but their warriors when I'd been here before. The skitarrit at the temple had kept their distance.

She came back a moment later with a platter of the grain. There was nothing else with it. She set it on the stone, then backed towards the door.

"Stay," I said. It came out an order, harsh and unpleasant. "Please," I added.

She stopped, huddled halfway on her knees, her head bowed. "As the Heshk Bashnessit requires," she said in a whisper.

"Tell me," I started to ask.

She stayed frozen, bent over awkwardly, her nose almost touching the stone floor.

"Look at me, please," I said. "Tell me your name."

She shifted, shooting me a single sideways glance. "I have no name. I am skitarrit. I serve the Eggstone." She moved backwards, skittish and afraid. The thin crest on her head rose partway, flushing pure white.

"Thank you. You may go." I wasn't going to get anything useful from her.

She skittered out of the cave, on all fours.

I leaned against the stone. The pasty grain didn't smell appetizing enough to tempt me. It would require movement and pain to reach it.

I dug through my memories instead, searching for more information on the skitarrit, on the whole structure of the Sessimoniss society. If I had any knowledge about it, I couldn't find it. I rubbed the Eggstone.

"Where are your memories when I need them?" I asked the stone. There was no response.

Vance watched me, lying in the blanket. I wouldn't have known he was awake except his eyes were open.

"They brought breakfast," I said. "At least I'm assuming that's what it is."

He shifted and sat, turning away from me. He scrubbed a hand through his hair.

"They set up a bathroom of sorts back that way," I said, waving a hand behind me at the tiny chamber.

He studied me a long moment, his dark eyes unreadable.

"Did you dream up any good plans?" I asked. "Because I haven't been able to think of a good one yet."

"How's your ankle?" he asked, ignoring my question.

"Painful," I answered.

"And your head?"

"It hurts. How's yours?"

"Fine."

We stared at each other. Vance was disheveled and filthy. I probably looked just as bad.

"Why didn't you leave me behind when we crashed?"

"Because my orders were very clear. I was to protect you first, information was secondary."

"So why didn't you help me run when the ships attacked? Why did you run scans instead of programming the course?"

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter now."

"Yes, it does."

"I thought we still had time. I wasn't expecting them to do such short jumps or change vectors so quickly." He didn't look happy about admitting that.

"There were more of them than you thought," I said, putting pieces together. "The vector shift was impossible for the three ships to make. There were six of them. We didn't stand a chance." I shifted my leg to a more comfortable spot. "Who are they?"

"You're guess is as good as any." Vance stood, leaving the blanket in a tangle on the rock. "I hate sleeping on rocks."

"That makes two of us."

He picked up the platter of grain. "Are you waiting to be served?"

"I'm waiting for my leg to quit throbbing before I move again."

"Save half for me," he said as he put the platter next to me. He headed for the bathroom cubby.

I picked at the mushy grain. It was bland, almost tasteless, and gummy. I made myself eat it.

So Vance had been assigned to keep me safe. Was that why he'd hauled me through the caves and across the desert? He wasn't going out of his way to be friendly. But he wasn't being impossible about it either.

Vance interrupted my thoughts when he sat on the other side of the platter.

"Did you think of anything?" he asked me. "I heard you questioning the slave."

"She isn't a slave," I corrected him. "Skitarrit. Immature females. They were servants in the temple. She doesn't have a clan. That was renounced when she went to serve the Eggstone."

"I read about the clans. How come they haven't killed her?" A Sessimoniss without a clan was dead. They made certain of that. Only those within a clan were protected and fed.

I shrugged again. "I don't know. We need to find out what happened." I looked out the door of the cave. Our guards stood outside. Their spears were prominent, blocking the entrance.

"Will they tell us anything?"

"Not unless we push." I levered myself up and hobbled to the doorway.

The guards immediately came to attention, turning their spears to threaten me. They watched me impassively.

"I wish to speak to Koresh'Niktakket of Kishtosnitass," I told the guards.

"That is not permitted."

"Then I call Council."

"You cannot call Council," the guard said.

"Tell me what has happened. Why do you live in caves?"

"You will remain inside," the guard said. They both turned their backs on me.

"I want answers," I said, stepping forward.

The guard hissed, his crest rising. He swung back towards me, his hand out. I saw the poison gleaming on his claws. I backed away.

"That went well," Vance muttered.

I glared and found a different rock to sit on. It looked like I wasn't going to get answers, at least not the easy way.