Deryl was forced out of the Remembrance.
He lay on the floor where he’d fallen, blinking slowly. Stunned and disoriented, he glanced around the darkened room, saw one of his hands was next to the Remembrance. Idly, he noted the blossom nearest him had closed. His other hand brushed lightly against Tasmae’s. Her blossom was still open, and she did not move.
“Tasmae,” he tried to call, but his voice was gone. He wondered if he’d screamed himself hoarse. He forced himself to focus and sighed with relief when he saw the rise and fall of her chest.
Run, Deryl! Get out! An urgency spiked into him with such force, he unconsciously threw up shields.
Something ricocheted against them.
He didn’t even bother to check what had hit him. He forced his lethargic and protesting body up and half ran, half staggered from the room, blindly taking turns as the some thing compelled him.
He saw no one until he reached an exit and stood blinking in the daylight. A unicorn offered its flank to him.
Hurry! The unicorn urged.
“No,” he murmured, “Tasmae.”
You cannot help her if they kill you. Now mount!
He didn’t understand. His head swam with images, feelings, memories. Some his, some…“Gardianju,” he whispered. “I forgot her. She loved me. She saved me, and I forgot her. And Tasmae…”
He clambered on. His hands tightened in the unicorn’s mane as he took off at a full gallop. Then he could only concentrate on staying seated. The unicorn rode in a direction he’d never gone before. He caught sight of cliff faces, forests, green meadows instead of the purple-flowered ones. It didn’t mean anything to him. It hardly seemed real compared to the confusion in his mind.
Perhaps an hour later—just enough time for his body to protest the ride—the unicorn stopped in another isolated glen with a small, clear pool. Deryl slipped off more than dismounted. He clung to the mane to stay upright as the beast led him to the water. He splashed his face, drank, gradually came back to himself. The unicorn stood patiently beside him.
I didn’t know you could speak, he told him.
You never asked, the beast replied.
“There were two suns,” he whispered. Somehow verbalizing it helped. “It was tearing Kanaan apart. Gardianju didn’t know what to do. She fled, to me. How did she find me?”
The unicorn’s hide shook in an equine equivalent of a shrug.
He rubbed the scars on his wrist, remembering the terrifying weeks after he’d almost killed Perry. They’d put him in a hospital, and when he couldn’t control the thoughts around him, put him in an institution. So many minds. So much pain. And then, Gardianju.
“She found me in the Netherworld. She protected me. She joined minds with me and took some of the worst of the attacks onto herself. She held me. She reminded me I wasn’t alone.” He stopped and again rubbed his wrists. “I guess she learned about weather and geology and such from me. I loved that stuff; wanted to be a climatologist. I wanted to die, but she wouldn’t let me. She said she needed me. Her people needed me. She gave me some of her Miscria skills, to use against the ‘demons’ of the Netherworld, and to protect myself in the real world. That must be how I managed until Joshua came and taught me better—and I thought it was Malachai that had helped me.
“It’s me. The whole Remembrance is about me.”
You think too highly of yourself. There is more.
“Where’s the other sun?” He was so tired. Things blurred and focused, blurred and focused. He scooted back from the water’s edge so he didn’t pass out in it.
Gardianju made it go away.
He couldn’t sit up any longer. He blinked up at the specter of Barin just topping the trees. She didn’t do it right. Something went wrong. She didn’t know enough. I didn’t know enough. And the Miscrias don’t understand. They don’t know what to ask.
He saw a model of the solar system in his mind, all the planets aligned and stable. He felt the dance of Kanaan, the Intruder breaking the path, and tried to trace the lines of its movements.
“Orbital mechanics,” he murmured before exhaustion finally took him and he fell into a dream-filled sleep.
*
Once mounted, Joshua, Terry, and Ocapo hurried away, the unicorns making great awkward leaps up steep embankments. Joshua couldn’t shake the feeling of arrows pointed at his back, and he with no psychic shielding, so once they reached a long flat stretch, he let Glory have her head until there was nothing but the wind in his face and the thunder of hoof beats under his seat. When Glory slowed down of her own accord, he looked behind him and saw Ocapo and Terry, two small figures hurrying toward them. He laughed.
“Wish I could take you home, baby,” he said as he patted her neck. She snorted.
She came to a stop at the edge of the mesa. He gasped as he looked out across miles of mesas with long flat valleys in between.
“Whoa! It really is a maze,” he whispered. His mouth worked silently for a moment, then he burst out, “God had a lot more fun on your planet than mine!”
Ocapo laughed as he pulled up beside him. “God did not create this. Tasmae did.”
“Tasmae?”
“It is both protection and trap. After the last war, Tasmae knows she will be a prime target. She intends to lead the bulk of the Barins into the maze and defeat them here. That’s why Salgoud focused on the Ydrel’s idea of using the caves. In fact, one of the things I must do tonight is recruit more Bondfriends to search the maze for caves, or places where Tasmae can coax caves from the stone.”
“Are we in the middle?” He asked as he tried to gage the length of the maze. Five, ten miles on this side, he thought.
“What good would that be? The Barins have devices that can see from the air—another reason Tasmae thought of recruiting the everyn. You see that the mesas are narrow? They cannot land their ships here, either. Also, Tasmae will shroud the area in fog. We don’t doubt that they might still find their way around, but we can make them pay for every step. There are decoys, hidden tunnels and traps throughout the maze. The keep itself is actually to one side, and one of several. The bulk of the maze is behind us, on the other side of the mesa.”
“Really.” Joshua whistled. He struggled to take all of it in. Colossal was too small a word to describe it. His head filled with so many questions that he hardly knew where to start. Ocapo’s casual acceptance didn’t help. “Um, so how long did it take to build this?”
Ocapo looked out over the winding valleys and huge land formations arranged like hedgerows with pride but no particular awe. “I’m not certain. They say she got the idea in the Season of Recovery, but of course, the first thing she had to do was pray. When I say God didn’t build it, I meant that it was not His direct design, but obviously, she could not have done this without His help.”
“Obviously,” Joshua agreed dryly. Talk about faith the size of a mustard seed.
“So once she had a plan that was acceptable to God, He led her to this place. It was fairly empty, but with lots of volcanic activity. It was also a very unstable area, and she was able to use that to bend Kanaan to her will. I’m told it took the better part of the Season of Recovery and the Season of Calm, and even into the Season of Preparation. For all her natural talent, she never completed her training, after all.”
“Oh, sure.” He tried to keep his voice casual, even though he felt rocked to his toes. What could a fully trained Miscria do? “Can I ask you something? If she can do this by herself, why can’t she stomp the Barins single-handedly? Just fling a few mountains at their spaceships or something?”
“When the War comes, Tasmae will be useless as a warrior. She will spend all her talent just keeping Kanaan from destroying itself. It is always so in the Season of War. It was very early in the last war when her mentor was killed. Can you imagine trying to care for Kanaan while being sent from hideaway to hideaway? No wonder she wanted a safe haven. Look!” He pointed to the right, to where two small dots dove and swirled in the distance. “A mating dance! We have even more reason to celebrate tonight! Come. We will follow the edge of the canyon awhile, and then fly down to an open area where my people have set up camp.”
He started off, but Glory, sensing Joshua’s mood, lingered a little longer while Joshua tried to take in what he’d just learned about Tasmae, who could, for all intents and purposes, single-handedly alter the face of a planet, control volcanoes and earthquakes with her mind, had the charge of literally holding a planet together, and was essentially Ground Zero for an upcoming war.
And she thought that Deryl had even more power and importance than her?
*
Deryl thrashed in his sleep, powerless against his dreams.
Across a field, Tasmae stood, face tilted to the sky, screaming words of furious command. Behind her, stretched in time, the other Miscrias mirrored her posture and mood. And they were wrong—all of them wrong.
He was Kanaan, content in its dance until the Intruder forced it from its steps.
He danced with Tasmae, and they laughed at her pregnant belly between them. Something grabbed her, pulled her. Her hands slipped from his.
“Tasmae!”
Leinad sat in the corner of the Remembrance room, watching Tasmae, so still, and tears traced lines down his cheeks because he was watching the end of their world.
Deryl yelled across the field, “Tasmae! You have to stop! They are wrong! All the other Miscrias were wrong!”
Help me! Her command echoed across creation. He felt her pull with all her will. At her feet, the grass wilted.
“No! Tasmae!”
The circle expanded, and with it, death. Animals and birds entered the circle and fell motionless.
“Stop it! It’s wrong!”
One by one, the Miscrias sank to the ground and faded away.
Tasmae began to shake with the power she could barely contain. Deryl felt as much as heard the roar growing within her.
Kanaan’s energy turned from the dance to the Intruder.
Intruder! Leave us!
Tasmae! Listen to me. Deryl ran toward her. He stepped into the circle and felt himself weaken. He threw up shields, but they drained as he ran. Please, beloved! You don’t know how.
GO AWAY! Tasmae shoved with all her might.
Wait!
Kanaan pushed the Intruder.
Stop!
The force of Tasmae’s will, fueled by the power of her world, slammed into Barin.
Deryl sank to his knees. “No!”
Her will was too hard, too focused. The Intruder did not leave the dance; rather, Barin exploded.
Deryl saw the sky falling and with the last of his strength, threw shields up to protect himself and Tasmae.
It didn’t matter. When he crawled to her, he found her dead, their child with her.
*
“Lie?” Terry asked as though he wasn’t sure what the word meant. A few moments later, he said, “To deliberately tell an untruth? Can your people really do that?”
“Deryl did when he told me the Barins were attacking, remember? What, can’t yours?” Joshua asked, then realized it made sense. When your communication was all mental, the only way to lie convincingly would be to believe it yourself, and such self-delusion would probably count as a mental illness that the healers would pick up on. He wondered what it’d be like to know that whatever someone told you was true.
“No. We can withhold information, but not fabricate it.”
“Okay. What about fiction? Storytelling?”
“They are not different for your people?” Ocapo asked, amazed.
“Usually.” Joshua hedged.
Ocapo, however, laughed. “How confused your people must be! Cochise and Spot tell me as a Kanaan, I could never understand. In some ways, I think you humans have more in common with the Greater Beasts.”
“Oh, thanks loads. Ocapo, maybe you shouldn’t try to help.”
They had ridden to the end of the narrow mesa and flown back into the canyon and were on the way to a rest area Ocapo knew about. Meanwhile, Terry had been questioning them both, testing a theory that humans might be similar to the Bondfriends.
“But I think it’s so!” Ocapo insisted. “Multiple desires. Multiple emotions. Multiple talents. And you can manage many of them at the same time. No wonder so many Kanaan are afraid of you.” Ocapo smiled indulgently at Joshua and reached over to slap him on the shoulder. “Do not worry! Not so long ago, they feared the Bondfriends. In our bonding to the beasts, we too are exposed to chaotic minds. ”
With a shriek, Spot dove in front of them and let loose with his opinion. Ocapo’s unicorn skipped to the side to avoid stepping in it.
Ocapo continued, thoughtful and oblivious to the ire of his friend. “You will be safe with us. We owe that much to the Ydrel.”
“What’s the Ydrel have to do with anything?” He asked.
“You understand that there are hierarchies of being?”
“Not really.”
“I shall try to explain. There are Kanaan, made in God’s image. There are the Greater Beasts, companions to the Kanaan, their peers in intelligence and reasoning, yet different in their thoughts and passions. Then there are the Lesser Beasts—animals—who have some intelligence but not the ability to—telep is your word?—yes, telep with the Kanaan or the Greater Beasts. Some of these have been domesticated, some remain forever feral. Then of course, there are the animals. All of this was determined by when and how they ate from the Trees.”
“What trees?”
Ocapo looked at him in askance. Terry, too, gaped. “Did God not give your kind the Trees?”
Something impossible clicked in Joshua’s head. “Wait a minute—you’re not saying the Tree of Life and the Tree of Knowledge? Like in the Bible—Adam and Eve in Eden…?”
Glory bobbed her head as if in affirmation, but Terry said, “Tree of Knowledge, yes. But Tree of Life—I’m not sure that is the right name. Perhaps, if you mean the kind of Life you share with your soul-mate. It is different, but similar. It is the life-relationship with God.”
“I don’t think the Bible ever really specified,” Joshua muttered. Things were getting a little surreal. Did every planet have a Garden of Eden? “So, what? The Kanaan ate first and—”
Ocapo sputtered, and even the unicorns seemed to laugh.
Terry explained. “No, of course not. No species was to eat until it had reached the fullness of its time—potential, I suppose would be the word. The animals, of course, never ate of the trees; the fruits were not pleasing to them. The Lesser Beasts ate next, and stripped the trees bare. It was many seasons before the trees were ready again, and the Greater Beasts each took their turn. Again, all the fruit were eaten and it was many seasons before it was ready again. Finally, God invited the Kanaan. And our minds were opened so that we could understand each other and the Greater Beasts; and our hearts were opened so that we could love each other in…agape?” He looked at Joshua.
“Uh-huh. Agape: universal, brotherly love. Go on.”
“And our souls were opened to communion with God. Did God do something different on your world, then?”
“I’m not sure you’d say God did… According to the Bible, Adam and Eve, the first humans, were already in communion with God, and he told them not to eat from the Tree of Life and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, but they did, anyway. Satan took the form of a serpent—a long slithery animal? You know, I haven’t seen any around here. I haven’t seen many animals in general, except Greater Beasts and a few birds.”
Ocapo nodded. “The Miscria warned them away for the exercises. Most may stay away until after the Season of War. This will be a major battlefield if all goes according to Tasmae’s plan. We shall run into more soon. None of these serpents, though.”
“Lucky you. Anyway, the serpent tricked the woman, Eve, into eating the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, and she got Adam to do the same.”
“Women seem to have much influence on men in your world,” Terry observed.
Joshua waved a dismissal. “It goes the other way, too. Trust me. Anyway, that was the original sin, and it separated us from God.” He stopped there, embarrassed and unsure he could go on.
Ocapo, however, begged like a child needing to hear just one more chapter of a bedtime story. “But God didn’t abandon you. He didn’t let Adam and Eve die? He’s still with your people?”
“Sure, God’s still with us. We keep failing Him, and He keeps forgiving us and we try again. Two thousand of our years ago, he sent us his Son, born of a virgin, living as a human and as Divine until he sacrificed himself for the forgiveness of our sins. At least, that’s the Christian belief.” Even though Ocapo said nothing, Joshua could tell he’d just confused him.
In for a penny. “There are a couple of dozen major world religions and a bunch of, well, sub-religions, I guess you’d call them, like Lutheran, Baptist or Catholic faiths are subsets of Christianity in general, if you define ‘Christianity’ as the belief that Jesus was God and Man who sacrificed himself for the forgiveness of our sins. For example, I’m Catholic, but my parents are just generally Christian; I have stricter beliefs in how my relationship with God works.” His voice trailed off. “This isn’t making any sense to you, is it?”
Ocapo shook his head. Even his unicorn gave Joshua the fish-eye.
Terry asked. “All this because your Adam and Eve couldn’t wait to eat?”
Despite himself, Joshua laughed, especially since his stomach chose that moment to give a complaining rumble. “Moses called the Jews a ‘stiff-necked people,’ but I think that applies to humans in general. We’re impatient, too. And, yeah, always hungry in some way or another. Speaking of, when’s dinner?”
“The earthquakes have stirred up the Lesser Beasts, and a couple of the more dangerous ones wandered into a populated area. My people sent out a hunting party. We will feast tonight!”
“Like…steaks?” He couldn’t believe the longing in his voice. He could feel himself salivating. He cleared his throat. “I thought you were vegan.”
Ocapo shrugged. “Kanaan are. Not Bondfriends. Would make it hard to be bonded to a carnivore, wouldn’t it? We’ve another of your hours, I think. Several tribes are coming, and there will be feasting and games and music. I’m told you like music.”
“I love music,” Joshua hedged.
Ocapo caught his hesitant tone. “Bondfriend music is different.”
They stopped near a large pond of clear water. They dismounted, and despite all the riding Joshua had been doing the past few days, his legs welcomed the chance to stretch. He went to the pool where Glory was drinking, her face bent over the water so that her horn dragged along the surface. Tentatively, Joshua scooped some water in his hands and sipped. It tasted sweet and pure as the water from his parents’ reverse-osmosis filter back home.
“Do unicorn horns purify water?” He asked Ocapo.
“What an interesting notion.”
“It’s a myth back home. Not nearly as interesting as being able to share your mind with an animal,” Joshua replied.
“I didn’t explain that, did I?” Ocapo said with some surprise. “We got distracted with the story of the Trees. But they play into it as well.
“It is said that there was one more harvest of the tree, and that God invited the Kanaan to wait for it if they wished. Those that waited until the fruit was fully ripe joined in perfect communion with God and are no longer of this world. However, there were some who wished to wait, but grew impatient—like your people, Joshua—and ate the fruit before it was ready.
“They found themselves trapped in this world but not fully of this world. They were both blessed and cursed with serenity. Even though they had intelligence and the power of communication, they had lost the basic desires for survival—food, drink, companionship. God took pity on them and directed that some of the beasts would bond with these Kanaan. In that way, we would share our intelligence and our desires.
“In every generation, a few of us are born. Some to other Bondfriends, though the trait does not always breed true, and some to Kanaan. It’s difficult for those of us born to Kanaan. We start out normal enough, but gradually ordinary life grows confusing, then unimportant. Even pain becomes immaterial: We recognize it, but don’t understand what it means. If the child is lucky enough to be in the vicinity of the bonding beasts, one finds him. When that does not happen and the trait is recognized, usually the parents will seek out a Bondfriend camp. Sometimes, such children…fade away. Bonding beasts who do not find a bonding child will slowly revert to a feral state and an animal intelligence. Cochise, of course, is very young, so he is still—not tame? No, wait—not sentient. He will seek a Bondfriend in the next couple of seasons, however, and if he does not find one, he will fly away and join his animal brothers in the wilds. A child who does not find a Bondfriend…fades away until they die.”
Spot flew down and settled onto Ocapo’s lap.
“You?” Joshua asked.
The Bondfriend nodded, swallowed hard, and continued. “My family’s village is very remote. They seldom contacted anyone beyond, and no one like me had been born there. They did not know what to do. They were afraid. I do not blame them. By then I’d gone beyond caring to eat or to communicate. It was all so immaterial. It didn’t even matter when they left me in the middle of an open field on top of the highest hill around. They trusted God to help me, and of course, He sent Spot, who was also on the edge of losing himself.”
Ocapo rubbed him along the neck and smiled. “There was a wild storm. It threw Spot off his course. I was standing, oblivious to the rain and wind, and he slammed into me and we both went tumbling. By the time we’d rolled to a stop, I had the revelation that I was wet and cold and didn’t like it! We ran for cover. The next day, we made the trek back to his village.”
“You didn’t return to your parents? Why not?”
Ocapo shrugged. “I had been reborn as a Bondfriend. Bondfriends are apart from Kanaan. We do not think the same way. It’s not always easy to communicate. Have you no equivalent in your world?”
“Well, we have different languages and cultures.”
“So Terry mentioned. It’s more than that.” He paused, a frown of thought on his face. “Right now, from Spot, I feel conflicted between the desire to hunt and the loathing of leaving a comfortable lap and neck scratching. I also feel excitement at seeing my people. That’s three emotions, two of which are not my own. What are you feeling right now?”
“Okay, well, I’m enjoying this conversation, though I’m still confused, which annoys me, and a little freaked out about all the parallels. I’m kind of relieved to be out of the compound, though I feel guilty about leaving Deryl behind. I’m also a little worried, too, that something might happen to him, and I’m scared about getting stuck here. Even though I’m actually kind of relaxed and excited to meet your people—and looking forward to something besides rabbit food—I’m seriously homesick. I miss my family, and Sachiko. She’s my fiancée—my soul-mate.”
“But not the one you’ve mated with?”
“No,” Joshua groaned. “So let’s add shame to that list, shall we?”
“This is my point, though. You’ve described a dozen different emotions that you’re feeling at the same time.”
Terry spoke up. “But this is normal for you?”
“Why not?”
Terry shook his head. “Do you know how many emotions a Kanaan—not a Bondfriend, but a Kanaan like me—feels? One.”
“One? What’s so unusual—?”
“Only one, Joshua. We do not balance multiple emotions—one will replace the other, but two can never compete or conflict. Yet you say humans can feel conflicting emotion?”
“Oh, yeah.” He thought about last year with LaTisha. “We don’t always enjoy it, though.”
“Most Kanaan would not even be able to handle two agreeing emotions, and conflicting ones could harm them beyond recovery. We healers can handle multiple impressions, but only during the healing. It’s why we perform a cleansing.”
“Is that why Leinad’s so afraid of us?”
Ocapo and Terry exchanged looks. Joshua checked his impatience.
“We still have a long ride.” Ocapo stood, dumping Spot off his lap, and headed to the unicorns. Terry followed.
Joshua chased after him and grabbed his arm. “Come clean, Terry. What’s got him so afraid?”
“Leinad, too, has the ability to handle conflicting impressions for a limited time so that he can work with the Remembrances. He holds some knowledge of all of them, but not all of each.”
Joshua forced back the urge to yell. “Jack of all trades. Right. So what does this have to do with Deryl and me?”
“You know that not all Miscria contact the Ydrel—only a handful?”
“Hadn’t thought of it, but yeah. So?”
“All who do eventually succumb to insanity and die. No one understood why—“
“And now they do.” Joshua moaned. Glory moved beside him, offering him support. He leaned back against her flank. “Terry, he didn’t know. He didn’t even realize the Miscria were people until Tasmae. Maybe this time will be different.”
“It already is,” Terry replied. “The Miscria who contact the Ydrel all died early in the Season of Calm, and from their sacrifice, Kanaan was spared war for generations. We are almost at the Season of War.”
“He thinks Deryl’s going to kill Tasmae?”
“Not intentionally, perhaps.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
Ocapo rode up beside them. “Of course it is!”
Terry nodded. “Many of us believe he is here to save her—enough to stay Leinad’s hand for now. But when he entered the Remembrance, he became part of Leinad’s domain.”
*
Tasmae stirred slightly, still caught in Gardianju’s life. The memories passed more quickly, so that she tumbled helplessly in the swift current and was only fully aware of snatches of time.
Twin suns loomed in Kanaan’s sky, so that there was no night, no comforting starshine and shadow, only glaring light and heat and the drying of her world. Gardianju stood on the cracked dirt of a dry lakebed and gazed dully at the heat-seared sky. Kanaan’s throes had worn past her defenses, beyond her training, and manifested themselves upon her. She rubbed her hand against her arm, so dry that the skin came off in chunks rather than flakes, and raised bloody hands to the burning sky. The Ydrel was there, and was not there, still caught in his own battle against the demons. She longed to help him, to cure him, but knew she could not. In her state, she would only bring him more pain, so she stayed away. Nonetheless, if she’d had moisture for tears, she would have wept for him.
The suns faded, and with them the heat. The people sighed with relief. Soon, however, the sighs turned to moans as the temperature continued to plummet. She had an apprentice now, and they spent much of their energy on keeping Kanaan and its people warm. It left little for themselves, and they lay listlessly under blankets near the hot springs where her village had retreated. All around her, she felt the despair of her people, and the loss of hope worried her most of all.
She escaped her mind and found herself with the Ydrel. He was better now, able to understand and to answer her questions. Winter, he told her, and shared an image of a small blue world moving along an elliptical path around a star, tilted on its axis so that the sun’s rays shone more brightly on some areas than on others. Then he showed her even more alien visions: thick cold white ash falling from the sky, covering the land in the softest of ice. Children oddly hampered in thick clothing that covered even their faces, ran about, molding the ash—no, the snow—into balls and shapes, throwing them at each other and laughing.
She didn’t understand the images, but they comforted her, as did the gentle trust of his mind. It was the only real warmth she felt.
“Ydrel. Deryl,” Tasmae whispered as the scene changed and she was again caught in the rushing current of the Remembrance.