THE SYZYGY MAY BE USED TO POOL OUR STRENGTH IN TIMES OF DANGER. BUT BE WARNED: THE SHARING MUST BE RESPECTFULLY HELD IN BALANCE; ANYTHING LESS WILL COST YOU YOUR MIND.
—THE WAY OF THE WAZYA
THE SMELL IS INTOLERABLE. Try as she might, Mabatan cannot get the healer to hand over her clothes, and the tiny chamber is redolent with the acid stench of Dirt-tainted sweat.
“I won’t!” the healer cries petulantly, throwing her bowl across the room. Shattering against the wall, it joins the fragments of the two plates and pitcher she’d smashed that morning.
“Sit,” Mabatan orders in her sternest tone, but Alandra continues pacing. Her eyes clouded with craving, she sees nothing, hears nothing. So Mabatan throws out a leg, tripping her.
Tumbling to the floor, Alandra snarls, then rolls her body upright inches away from Mabatan.
“You must focus your attention,” Mabatan asserts coolly as she holds out another bowl of infused water.
Alandra takes it and squeezes her eyes together, as if debating whether or not to smash it in her tormentor’s face. But in the end, she puts it calmly to her lips and whispers, “Tell me why you hate the Dirt so much and I’ll do it.”
Mabatan begins with only a hint of the fatigue she feels. “Like all Wazya, I have walked in many places and witnessed the results of the war between Darius and Roan of the Parting—”
“Deserts where once forests and cities flourished, the animals and men that live there now twisted and deformed. Yes. I understood that the last time you told me. That is what you think, but it is not what you feel. Why you hate is what interests me.”
Returning the healer’s furious gaze, Mabatan quiets her breath. What the girl wants is irrelevant. Mabatan is not here to share of herself, certainly not with a Dirt Eater. “You claim you love the children, feel their difference, their specialness. You say you can sense they are our only hope. If these words have any truth in them, then sit and focus. Do not waste time on useless questions.”
“If I cannot understand why you are here, how can I trust what you say, what you do?”
Mabatan knows these questions are meant to keep her from her purpose. She will not be so easily distracted. “You do not need to trust me. Roan tried to warn you, you trusted him once. You know what Dirt has done to you. Believe in the truth of what you feel and know.”
“And you, Mabatan, Wazya, what do you believe in?”
How long does she have to remain buried in this suffocating room with this bullheaded healer? Frustration burns in her throat and squeezes at her heart. Reaching forward, she takes the healer’s hands into her own. “Alandra.” The healer tries to twist from her grasp but Mabatan is the stronger. “I, Mabatan, Wazya, believe that Darius must be killed, the Dirt destroyed, and the children freed from the abyss. If Willum is wrong and there is no chance that you will agree to stand with us in this fight, then release me from my duty to you, Alandra. Release me and I will go and leave you to choose some other fate.”
A shock courses from the healer’s hands into Mabatan. White crickets emerge from cracks in the floor and ceiling. Dozens, hundreds, until the room quivers with them. What Dirt Eater power is this?
“What are you doing?” whispers Alandra. Her hushed voice and wide eyes make it clear to Mabatan that the healer is as shocked as she.
“I’m not sure,” Mabatan says, trying to remain calm. But her chest feels about to explode and as the crickets begin to sing, her life force shoots out of it, binding her heart to Alandra’s. Alandra’s terrified eyes latch onto Mabatan’s as the song becomes so powerful it creates a sonic vortex that encloses them. Drawn out of their flesh as one, they are swept up into a whirlwind, out of body, out of control, out of this world.
MABATAN FEELS STRANGE, SWOLLEN, HER EYES SEEING IN EVERY DIRECTION AT ONCE. THERE’S A POUNDING IN HER HEAD—DEAFENING AND FAST—SLUSHING IN AND OUT LIKE THE TIDE. CLOUDS CHURN ABOVE, THE GROUND RIPS BELOW, AND ALL AROUND A STORM RAGES. SHE SQUEEZES HER EYES TOGETHER, TRYING TO STOP ALL THE IMAGES.
SCREAMS BECOME A GREAT ROAR THAT TWISTS AND GRINDS ACROSS HER SKIN AS COLD, OILY FIRES TURN THE TEMPEST INTO A RANK STEAM, CHOKING HER. OPENING HER EYES, SHE SEES THE HEAD OF A GARGANTUAN VIPER, FANGS BARED. SHE TRIES TO DIVE AWAY FROM THE BEHEMOTH, BUT THE DIRECTION SHE IS MOVING IN IS THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT SHE INTENDS. HER ANXIETY MOUNTS AS SHE FINDS HERSELF LURCHING CLOSER TO A GREAT FISSURE.
IN THE DISTANCE, SHE SEES THE NOVAKIN STRETCHED ACROSS THE CREVICE, RAIN LASHING THEIR RUSTING BODIES. SHE CANNOT LET THE BEAST NEAR THEM. HER PANIC AND TERROR ARE INSTANTLY REPLACED WITH A WASH OF SADNESS AND JOY. THESE ARE NOT HER FEELINGS.
THE CHILDREN ARE HERE! HERE! MABATAN TOLD THE TRUTH!
THE SOUND OF THE HEART, THE FEELING OF RELIEF, THE THOUGHTS SPRINGING VIVIDLY INTO MABATAN’S MIND…THEY’RE ALANDRA’S!
HER FATHER SPOKE OF THIS. IN TIMES OF GREAT NEED, BEINGS COULD LINK, BRIDGE IN HARMONIOUS BALANCE. THE SYZYGY. IT MUST BE THE SYZYGY.
THE CRICKETS OFTEN PROTECTED THE PEOPLE OF THE PROPHECIES. THEY HAD SAVED LUMPY. KEPT COMPANY WITH ROAN. WATCHED OVER WILLUM IN THE DEVASTATION. THEY HAD OFTEN SPOKEN TO MABATAN ABOUT THE NOVAKIN, THEIR IMPORTANCE TO THE FUTURE OF HUMANKIND. THE CHILDREN MUST NEED SOMEONE TO CARE FOR THEM, SOMEONE WHO COULD BE SPARED FROM THE STRUGGLE AHEAD. SO THE CRICKETS CONNECTED HER LIFE FORCE WITH THE HEALER’S, MAKING IT POSSIBLE TO DRAW ALANDRA HERE. BUT NOW THAT THAT’S BEEN ACCOMPLISHED, MABATAN KNOWS SHE SHOULD BREAK THE SYZYGY AT ONCE, BECAUSE BALANCE IS NOT POSSIBLE BETWEEN THEM.
SLOWLY COLLAPSING THE REACH OF HER AWARENESS, MABATAN ALLOWS THE FORCE OF ALANDRA’S PRESENCE TO GROW. LITTLE MORE THAN A MOTE FLOATING ON A MOLECULE OF GAS, MABATAN ENTERS THE LUNGS OF THE CREATURE ALANDRA’S BECOME AND IS EXPELLED VIOLENTLY INTO THE STORM WITH ITS BREATH. AS THE MOLECULE DRIFTS DOWN TO THE GROUND, MABATAN ALLOWS HER DREAMFIELD FORM TO EXPAND AND LOOKS UP.
NOT ONE HEAD, BUT NINE, BOB ON LONG NECKS, THEIR FORKED TONGUES FLICKING ACROSS SCALY MOUTHS. SHRIEKS OF AGONY SLASH THE AIR AS ONE LASHES OUT AT ANOTHER, TIPPING THE BEAST PRECARIOUSLY. CLAWING THE ROCKY SOIL TO RIGHT ITSELF, IT STUMBLES, CAUSING THE GROUND TO QUAKE BENEATH THE TINY BLUE RABBIT.
MABATAN CRIES OUT, “ALANDRA!” STARTLED BY THE SOUND OF THE NAME, ALL NINE HEADS SNAP AROUND WITH FRIGHTENING PRECISION TO OBSERVE THE AZURE RABBIT WITH THEIR BLACK, ALMOND-SHAPED EYES. IT WOULD BE EASY TO LOSE ONESELF IN THAT OVERWHELMING WELL OF POWER. BUT THE CRICKETS HAVE TAUGHT HER THAT IN THE DREAMFIELD, POWER IS NOT RELATIVE TO SIZE AND APPEARANCE.
PROJECTING CALM AND CONFIDENCE, SHE CALLS OUT, “ALANDRA! IT’S MABATAN! YOU KNOW MY VOICE. YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN THE FORM OF THE HYDRA! YOU ARE THE BEAST YOU SEE. STOP FIGHTING YOURSELF.”
ALL NINE HEADS WAVE AND SPIT FIRE.
“LISTEN TO ME, ALANDRA! THE HYDRA IS A POWERFUL GUARDIAN BUT TO HELP THE CHILDREN, YOU MUST MASTER IT.”
BLACK EYES PULSATING, THE HYDRA’S NECKS WRITHE AS IF TRYING TO WRENCH THEMSELVES FROM THE BODY THEY SHARE. WORRIED THAT THE HEALER WILL TEAR HERSELF APART, MABATAN LETS OUT A HIGH, SHRILL WHISTLE. THE TWINING NECKS FREEZE, THE HEADS SLOWLY TURNING BACK TO THE RABBIT.
MABATAN HOLDS HER GROUND AS THE NINE HEADS STRETCH DANGEROUSLY CLOSE, MOUTHS WIDE, TEETH GLISTENING. “IT IS HARD TO SEE THROUGH NINE PAIRS OF EYES. BUT IF YOU GO TO YOUR CORE—THE PART THAT WAS YOU WHEN YOU USED TO ENTER THE DREAMFIELD—YOU WILL FIND THE STRENGTH TO GAIN CONTROL.”
NOSTRILS FLARING, THE HYDRA’S HEADS SWERVE TO SNAP THEIR JAWS AT MABATAN. THE FOUR TALONED LEGS SWIPE THE AIR AND SCRATCH THE EARTH IN FRONT OF HER BUT THE BLUE RABBIT REMAINS RESOLUTELY STILL AND WAITS, SURROUNDING HERSELF WITH MEMORY.
THERE WAS ONCE A PARADISE IN THIS SPOT WHERE IN TIMES LONG PAST, THE CHOSEN CARRIER OF HER PEOPLE’S TRADITIONS WOULD BE TAUGHT THE WAY OF THE DREAMFIELD. HER GREAT-GRANDMOTHER, AITHUNA, HAD WATCHED IT PASS FROM WHAT IT WAS ONCE INTO WHAT IT IS NOW, A DESOLATE AND BROKEN WASTELAND. THE DEPTH OF THAT LOSS HAD BEEN PASSED DOWN THROUGH FOUR GENERATIONS AND WITH IT DESPAIR FOR THE FUTURE. BUT MABATAN CAN FEEL THE STRENGTH IN THE HEARTS OF THE NOVAKIN AND, AWASH WITH THEIR UNFLAGGING HOPE, SHE ALLOWS POSSIBILITY BACK INTO HER BEING.
HOW LONG SHE HAS WAITED, SHE CANNOT TELL. BUT THE HYDRA IS CALMED AND IN ITS EYES SHE SENSES THE ONE WHO CALLS HERSELF ALANDRA.
“GO TO THE CHILDREN, ALANDRA. GO!”
THE HYDRA LEAPS TO WHERE THE NOVAKIN ARE BRIDGED ACROSS THE CREVICE, AND WAILS. WHEN THE FOURTEEN IRON CHILDREN SEE THE GHASTLY CREATURE, THEY ARE NOT FRIGHTENED BUT SMILE IN RECOGNITION. THEIR METAL SHELLS CREAK FROM THE PRESSURE; EVEN THIS SLIGHT MOVEMENT THREATENS TO REND THEM APART.
CLINGING TO THE EDGES OF THE RAVINE WITH CORRODED, CRACKING FINGERS, THEY SLOWLY PIVOT THEIR NECKS, CALLING OUT: “ALANDRA!” “WE MISSED YOU!” “YOU’RE FINALLY HERE!”
THE HYDRA LOWERS HER HEADS TO NUZZLE THE BELEAGUERED CHILDREN, BUT THEN STOPS, AS IF FEARING THAT ANY TOUCH MIGHT BREAK THEIR TENUOUS HOLD. SHE ROARS ANGRILY TO THE SKIES, SPITTING OUT FIRE. AS THE FLAMES CONDENSE INTO AN OILY SUBSTANCE, THE HYDRA EXTENDS HER MANY TONGUES TO LAP IT OUT OF THE SKY. CRANING THE GREAT NECKS FORWARD, SHE LOVINGLY SPREADS THE GREASE OVER THE CHILDREN’S STRAINING LIMBS.
THE RABBIT SHUDDERS BUT THE CHILDREN MOAN, CONTENTED: “THANK YOU, ALANDRA!” “MY TURN.” “ME TOO!”
THE HEADS GYRATE IN EVERY DIRECTION, SPREADING THE BALM GENEROUSLY ONTO EVERY CHILD. THEIR SIGHS OF RELIEF ARE MATCHED BY A RUMBLING SOUND THAT VIBRATES DEEP IN THE BELLY OF THE HYDRA, A PURRING THAT SEEMS ALSO TO SOOTHE THE AILING NOVAKIN. THEN, REACHING ACROSS THE RAVINE, ALANDRA DIGS HER TALONS INTO EITHER SIDE, HER MUSCLES STRAINING FROM THE EFFORT.
“ALANDRA,” MABATAN CALLS OUT SOFTLY. “I MUST GO.”
ONE OF THE HEADS TURNS TO MABATAN AND NODS WITH CALM GRACE. THE CURATRIX OF THE NOVAKIN. THEIR HEALER. MABATAN ALMOST ENVIES HER. ALANDRA AT LEAST IS WHERE SHE WILL BE REQUIRED UNTIL ALL IS RESOLVED OR LOST. MABATAN, ON THE OTHER HAND, MUST MOVE ON TO THE NEXT TASK WITHOUT REALLY KNOWING WHAT WILL BE ASKED OF HER—OR EVEN WHY. STILL, ANY SACRIFICE THAT MIGHT RETURN THIS PLACE TO WHAT IT ONCE WAS IS WORTH MAKING.
AND SO, AFTER ONE LAST LOOK AT THE CHILDREN, MABATAN LEAPS AWAY, SKIRTING THE WIDENING CHASM, AND THE WHISTLE OF THE WIND DRAWS HER INEXORABLY BACK INTO THE WORLD.