Hope rubbed her eyes and yawned again. She felt a little guilty for sleeping in, but couldn’t bring herself to move until her stomach settled. When she was going to get used to Dayamari food?
She thought about asking Blayne for some tonic or herbal remedy to settle her stomach but he had real patients to worry about. She’d just flung back the blankets when he walked into the room.
“Stay there. I’ve brought you breakfast.” He placed the tray of food in her lap and draped a spare blanket around her shoulders. “You need to rest. Dayamar’s been working you too hard. Before I leave, I’ll have a word about him giving you the day off.”
His concern touched her deeply. “No. It is all right. I will attend as usual. When do you think you will return?”
A herd of cervidas—deer-like herbivores from what she’d been able to glean—had been spotted not far from the settlement, provoking Willem to organize a hunting party. The hunters preferred to lay down a good store of meat to see the settlement comfortably through the colder months and with autumn imminent, the nearby herd was too good an opportunity to miss.
“Shouldn’t be more than five days. Today, we’ll travel to the last place the herd was sighted, set up a temporary camp, and finalize plans. The hunt will begin at first light.” He went on to explain that the butchering would be done on site, and the meat, skins, antlers and hooves brought back for curing and storage.
He bent to kiss her forehead. “Have you’ve changed your mind about coming with me?”
She screwed up her nose. “I like to eat meat but I do not need to witness firsthand how animals become meat.”
She heard him chuckle at her squeamishness. “Fair enough. Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?”
“Go.” She made a shooing gesture. “Dayamar has plenty for me to do. Degan and Varaya are here to help me during the day, and Treya in the evenings. My days will be so full I will not have time to miss you.”
Varaya barreled into the room without a by-your-leave. “Hope, would you mind terribly if I joined the hunting party? I haven’t hunted for so long I’d almost forgotten how exhilarating it can be. I packed last night—just in case you were happy to be left on your own.”
Hope was sure she knew the real reason Varaya was eager to go on this hunt: Willem. “I do not mind Varaya. I am certain Dayamar will be pleased to have me to himself all day instead of half. I will see you both after the hunt. Be safe.” She beckoned Blayne closer so she could cradle his face in her palms and kiss him on the lips. Lingeringly.
He heaved such a heartfelt sigh that it provoked a giggle from Varaya. “Not too late for second thoughts,” she teased.
“Yes, it is,” Hope said. “Go!”
~*~
Hope made her way to the Sehani Hall without taking a single wrong turn. The pride she felt at finally making sense of the settlement’s sprawling layout was immense. Now, only the sprawling outer perimeter, inhabited by a few hardy souls who chose to live far from the main living areas, continued to elude her. That part of the settlement had few landmarks she could use to orient herself, and was where she’d been headed when she’d first stumbled into Willem.
Since repetition was key, Hope ran through the settlement layout again to fix it firmly in her mind.
The settlement was sheltered by a cliff-face. To the east was the waterfall and large pool used for washing and bathing. The small stream running from the pool eventually formed a larger watercourse bordered by a forested area she hadn’t yet explored. Not that she ever had time to go exploring.
Through trial and error, she’d discovered the easiest way to orient herself was to visualize sections of the settlement in parallel rows, moving from west to east. The first row comprised the burial grounds, the area used for outdoor festivities, communal food-storage and cooking areas, along with large gardens cultivated with vegetables, herbs, and other plantings. It made sense that both the communal cooking areas and the gardens were close to a water source. Parallel to that ran a line of buildings housing various tradespeople, the Healing Hall, another garden for medicinal herbs, the Panakeya’s residence, and quarters for the other healers and their apprentices.
The third row was easy, comprising simply the dormayres, a cluster of living quarters, and a fenced area encircling the Children’s Center and its large outside play area. Row number four included a bunch of empty quarters—why they were empty she hadn’t yet discovered. Next, were Dayamar’s quarters and the Sehani Hall, and finally, another cluster of living quarters. Row number five began with the individual elders’ quarters, the vast Elders Hall—used for private meetings amongst the elders as well as public meetings and indoor celebrations—and more living quarters. Finally, adjoining the grassy rise overlooking the burial ground, were the Potters Hall, drying rooms and kilns—all conveniently sited near large clay deposits.
Hope’s thoughts turned to the upcoming lesson. Dayamar was excited by her description of Treya’s unborn baby, and had discussed it at length. He believed her experience might be some variance of the Sehani ability to discern an aureya, which he explained as a manifestation of a person’s psychic energies—an aura, in other words. Today, Dayamar intended to begin training her how to see them.
She rapped on the door and entered to find Dayamar already waiting. After greeting her, he launched straight into his lecture, and despite her misgivings about anything she deemed “supernatural”, Hope found herself fascinated by his explanation of this phenomenon.
“An aureya,” he told her, “is the psychic energy surrounding the human body. In reality, not only people but all matter, both animate and inanimate, have an aureya of some kind. And in people, aureyas can best be described as thick colored bands of light surrounding the body. A person’s aureya reflects many things. For example, their emotional state, physical health, mental activity and internal action of the organs. Thus, an adept Sehan can also detect disease.”
Hope opened her mouth but Dayamar promptly answered her unspoken question. “The ability to detect disease does not go hand in hand with the ability to cure it,” he said. “And even if we could cure ailments and diseases, should we? I could devote every waking moment to trying to cure the sick, but eventually I would be forced to pick and choose amongst them. Our healers understand this moral dilemma. They, too, must make difficult choices.”
“I understand.” It wouldn’t stop her trying to help if she was asked, though. Or even if she were not.
Dayamar continued his lecture. “An aureya’s colors emanate from seven main psychic centers of the body. Each centre has its own color. Base of the spine is red. Navel is orange. Sternum, yellow. Heart, green. Throat, blue. Forehead, violet. And finally, crown of the head, gold.”
“Please can I ask a question?”
“Of course.”
“If everyone has seven centers, and each center has its own color, then are not the aureyas of each person the same?”
“Good question. The answer is no. As each person is an individual, so is their aureya. A person’s nature, health, living habits, the way they think—for example, their morals, core beliefs and spiritual development—all of these have bearing upon the strength of each psychic centre.
“All of the psychic centers generate separate energy, which is reflected into the aureya and mixes together, creating a predominant color. So in simplistic terms, a person’s aureya may appear to be one particular color. We call that the base color. But in truth, depending upon the situation and how a person is feeling at a particular moment, their aureya may be temporarily imbued with another color, or colors, before reverting back to its original hue. Do you understand?”
“I think so. What are the base colors of aureyas, then?”
“Generally, red denotes sensuality and vitality. Orange for emotion. Yellow for power. Green for nature and love. Blue for spirituality. Violet for psychic power. Gold for highly advanced spirituality and psychic power.”
She was silent for a moment, assimilating the load of information. “Then what do you think about the green shadow I saw in Treya’s lower back?”
“I imagine that was the sign of a minor health problem—perhaps a strained muscle. But what interests me most is the aureya you described around the unborn child. I’ve never heard of a Sehan with the ability to See a fetus before, and certainly not its aureya. I don’t quite know what to think of this. You’re certainly causing me some headaches.”
“I am very sorry, Dayamar,” she said, dismayed that she might be responsible for increasing the burden he already shouldered.
“Forgive me for teasing you.” He patted her hand. “It’s my destiny to be challenged by you or I would not have succeeded in bringing you here.”
The door burst open and someone—a man by his footfalls—ran in and skidded to an abrupt halt. “Sehan Dayamar, Healer Johan needs you immediately!”
Roban. He sounded panicked, so unlike his usual suave self that Hope couldn’t help imagining the worst.
“I went to Treya’s looking for Hope and she—Treya, I mean—is in labor. Healer Johan says it’s not going well.”
Hope’s heart skipped a beat. God. Not Treya, please!
Dayamar ran from the hall.
“That old man sure can move when he needs to,” she heard Roban mutter. Then he turned his attention to her. “Since you’re free, how about we go through that song— Hey! Where are you going?” He managed to grab her wrist as she bolted. “Slow down. You’ll hurt yourself.”
“But Treya—”
He groaned. “Grab hold of my arm and we’ll both run. At least then you won’t fall over and bump that pretty face. I don’t want to give Blayne any excuse to pound on me, okay?”
They arrived at Treya’s dwelling to find a young boy had barred the entrance. “No one is to enter,” he barked. “Healer Johan’s orders.”
Roban grabbed Hope’s arms and pushed her in front of him. “Take a closer look who you’re refusing entry to.”
The boy squeaked. “My apologies, Sehan. Please go in.”
Hope dragged Roban with her, waving aside his protests. “Hush. I need you to tell me what is happening.”
She felt his arm muscles tense beneath her grip. “I-I…. It doesn’t look good.”
He sounded like he was going to be sick. Damn. He was going to be no help at all. She needed to see what was happening. She couldn’t help if she couldn’t see. Dammit. Why couldn’t she see?
And then she could. She could see what Roban was seeing as his gaze flicked to each strained face. Johan’s mouth was a grim line as he straightened from examining the stricken woman. Dayamar’s eyes were shadowed with sadness and resignation. They’d obviously lost all hope of a happy outcome to this birth. But it was Treya who’d caught Roban’s attention. Her face was very pale, covered with a sheen of sweat. She barely seemed to be breathing, and didn’t react at all when another contraction rippled her swollen belly.
Roban uttered a strangled noise, which drew Johan’s attention. The healer’s initial anger at their intrusion drained from his face, leaving him haggard and hopeless. He beckoned Roban to bring Hope closer. And as Roban prodded her to move, her consciousness abruptly split from his and she could see only darkness again. Damn and blast. Why did the elusive linkage that had allowed her to use Roban’s eyes have to fail her now?
“I’m very sorry, Hope, but there’s nothing more we can do. Treya’s baby is not moving down the birth passage and they’re both too weak. I’m afraid we’re going to lose them both.”
“No.” She shook her head.
“There’s nothing more we can do. I’m so sorry.”
“No!” She flung herself past the healer, groping blindly for Treya’s hand.
“Hope, no! It’s too dangerous!” Panic cracked Dayamar’s voice.
She sensed him probing her mind but spared him no thought. Her heightened seer-senses peeled back the layers of Treya’s physical body, noting the milky-blue of Treya’s aureya surging with luminous sparks. Imminent death had been heralded by this beautiful otherworldly display—perhaps in tacit apology for the ending of a life.
She pushed her wonder away, probing deeper until she reached the fetus. The baby’s head was wedged up against his mother’s pelvis. His aureya was pale as mist and almost invisible. And as Hope watched it spasm and shudder, she became conscious of faint thoughts. Instinctively she formed a link with the immature mind.
PAIN! I hurt! I hurt!
There, there, young one. It is not safe to stay here, you must be born to live.
I stay. Safe…. PAIN!
You must be born to stop the pain. You must be born to feel your mother’s love. See? Look inside my mind, see what you can have—
WONDER!
Yes, yes! This is for you—the physical world. To know love, to touch and feel, to know your mother.
Want it. FEAR!
I will help you. Do not be afraid, trust me…. Trust me and be born now.
She tried to disengage from the baby’s mind, but the self-centered infant psyche was too strong. It held her in thrall.
MINE! it insisted.
Hope struggled. But the more she fought, the more the fetus drew on her psychic energy, draining her, weakening her.
~*~
Blayne strode alongside Cayl and Willem at the head of the hunting party. He inhaled and released the breath slowly, reveling in the wide-open spaces, the peace. Since returning to the settlement, his focus had been split between Hope and his patients. And as much as Blayne loved his trade, the strain of being constantly available to patients and fellow-healers alike was beginning to tell. Now Hope had settled in, he’d whisk her off for a few days camping—provided he could cajole Dayamar into giving her a couple of days off from her studies.
As the other two men discussed strategies for the coming hunt, Blayne’s thoughts centered on his Promised. He pictured her in his mind. Her beautiful eyes softened after they’d made love. The silken caress of her hair. The heady musk of a well-pleasured woman. He closed his eyes, and for a moment imagined that if he opened them, he would see her walking toward him, hips swaying in a sensuous invitation, a smile on her face for him, and him alone.
But when he opened his eyes his vision was awash with a vivid searing gold that was almost tangible. Almost alive. Abruptly, the gold was banished by a pulsating bubble of palest blue that twinkled with a myriad bright silvery sparks. A wave of golden light surged over the bubble. Again and again, the gold wave was banished. Each time it reformed it was diminished, while the bubble became larger, brighter, more substantial.
Knowing slapped him. The diminishing gold was Hope’s essence. And somehow, the intensity of Blayne’s need to protect Hope helped him forge a link with her.
Fear lanced through him. Her fear. She was growing weaker. Dying. Blayne sank to his knees, his heart squeezing so painfully in his chest it was an effort to breathe.
“What’s up with you?” Cayl dropped to his knees beside him.
“Hope’s in danger.”
“I feel it, too,” Willem said. “I can sense her through that weird bond we’ve shared since she healed me. Something’s wrong—I know it. She’s terribly weak.”
Others sprinted up, firing worried questions. But Blayne didn’t waste time explaining. He knew what he had to do. He gathered his will and sent it streaking upward, seeking the woman he loved, gifting her with his strength to help her win the battle.
Energy drained from him in a head-spinning rush as she took what he offered. He toppled onto his back. A slow blink… and Willem’s face blurred into focus.
“We need to keep him warm.” Fingers pressed to his wrist… a blanket tucked around him... a folded tunic placed beneath his head….
“He’s breathing steadily and his pulse is still strong.” Willem.
“What do you think’s happening?” Cayl.
“Damned if I know.” Willem again. “But Sehan Hope’s in danger so I’d bet my life he’s somehow managed to send a part of himself to help her.”
“What do we do now?” Varaya, her voice tense and fearful.
“We wait.”
Waiting was futile. Hope was running out of time. Blayne rallied what was left of his strength and gave it all to her, willingly.
~*~
MINE! the fetus insisted. Want more. Want it all.
Another presence echoed in Hope’s mind. NO! it thundered. She is not yours. She is not for you. She is mine.
Another surge of strength augmented her own. Gathering her will, she broke free… and had the sense of being nourished by intense love before the presence vanished.
She was safe. The baby was safe. But Treya was so exhausted her heart had stopped beating. Hope couldn’t let her friend die. She poured the last of her strength into Treya and willed her to live.
~*~