The Forgotten Stone, page 21
“Vadik is a thinker, from every side of things, and I think he sometimes prefers whichever side has not yet been defended. But he is a loyal friend and a strong fighter with a strong heart. Baird is funny. He is adventurous, and I’m not sure I’ve seen anyone quite so full of life. Baird delights in the unexpected, in well-meaning mischief, and in dreaming. He strikes me as a dreamer, anyway … and, though he may be from Kalka’an, I do believe that inside he may belong somewhere up here with you rather than down on the earth. But then, he would probably install insane ropes to swing off, introduce everyone to pranks, and generally change the whole operation you have going.” Enouim smiled thinking about Baird gallivanting about up in the clouds, making trouble. Maybe they could use a little loosening up around here anyway. “As he told me when I met him, he should be judged by his actions rather than the reputation of his people or the culture within which he was raised.”
Enouim took a breath and continued. “Oloren … what a gracious friend. She welcomed me, she and another friend that was lost to us in Levav … they took me in when no one else did. Before anyone else was ready to accept me as a member of the team, they did. Oloren is encouraging, kind, quiet in large groups, comfortable and fiery in small ones, and a force to be reckoned with among enemies and friends alike. She seeks to mediate between friends, and whatever she does, she does with passion.
“Gabor has been a puzzle, or at least he was to me. When I think of Gabor, I think of precision. He picks up the slack when others don’t do their part, because it drives him insane to see a job half-done. He is a hard worker with a shrewd mind, an able fighter, and loyal. I believe his mind, once made up, is not easily shaken … for better or for worse.”
“And the eldest of your collective?”
“Kilith Urul is a wise man. He is well traveled, well versed in culture, and shrouded in the mystery that accompanies rangers. Kilith is rarely without opinions, but is slow to speak. Rough around the edges, dangerous to foes, kind to friends. I trust him with all that I have.”
“You speak fondly of your friends,” Nyeur said, his eyes soft and kind. “We thank you for your time.”
“That’s all? Will you help us? Do you know where the stone is?”
Laskallel shared a look with Nyeur. “We are well acquainted with that which you seek. We have yet to speak with four of your company, and will deliberate together after having done so. One does not plan a journey without considering what will be necessary for it—the supplies, the cost, guidance of the stars, the weather foretold by the sky.”
“Thank you for your consideration,” Enouim said. “Much hangs upon your decision.”
“Indeed it does. It is a decision of weight in either direction, and were it placed on a scale, it is difficult to say which side would be heavier. The more information the better. Haste is not the friend of good judgment.”
Laskallel gestured toward Poleia, and Enouim’s eyes followed her hand and noticed that Laskallel also had marks on her wrists, similar to those that Poleia and Yadara had, but hers looked like liquid gold rather than silver. Enouim glanced back at Nyeur and saw that he, too, had gold marks on his wrists. She found them intriguing and beautiful, and wondered if it was a family or blood bond of some kind, a birth mark, or something more significant.
“Poleia will see you to your friends, and you will stay with us tonight,” Laskallel said.
“We will give you news of our verdict in the morning,” Nyeur added. “May the stars shimmer upon you.”
“Thank you,” Enouim said, unsure of what else to do. She gave an awkward half-bow, half-nod to her hosts, and followed Poleia up the stairs.
Once again Poleia led her through various windings, up, down, and around, until arriving in a large, wide-open rectangular platform with rounded edges. Enouim was surprised at its shape, as most landings had been circular. One-half had cubbies, perhaps eight feet by four, cut out from its surface and dropping below the landing itself by approximately six feet, so that from the side one could see the cubbies from a distance. Enouim thought they would look like graves in any other setting.
Upon closer examination, Enouim now saw that although there were perhaps forty holes set up in four rows of ten. Each cubby had a hammock made of mirror material strung inside it. Each cubby had a floor and two sides, but lengthwise the hammocks were open to the air. The other half of the landing, to her joy, contained her friends—Ruakh, Mereámé, Oloren, and Kilith—sitting in a circle and talking together.
“Enouim!” Mereámé waved her over.
Poleia waved her on and disappeared without a sound, leaving her alone with her companions. Enouim hurried forward and seated herself in the circle between Oloren and Mereámé, who made room and patted the space between them.
“How did it go?” Oloren asked.
“Okay, I guess,” she replied, somewhat unsure herself. “They were nice enough.”
“Lovely, aren’t they?” Mereámé smiled. “Such grace. I’m sure you did great, and they saw you the way we do.”
“They asked me what I’m here for, what we want, and what I thought of all of you.”
“They asked the same of us,” Ruakh said. “It seems after the incident with Canukke, they thought it more effective to speak to us individually.”
“Best way to find the truth, and see whose story doesn’t match up,” Kilith said. “Like separating witnesses. They are systematically screening us for holes in our story, and any red flags that might give them pause in handing us the keys to the most powerful weapon in the world.”
“Wow. When you put it like that,” Enouim said, “I’m surprised they’re still speaking to us at all after Canukke went off on them.”
“Gracious, I told you.” Mereámé seemed delighted and downright dreamy after her interview.
“Really, what happened in yours?” Oloren asked. “You never rightly said.”
“Oh … the same as the rest of you” Enouim thought Mereámé pulled back a little as she spoke. “You went together with Ruakh, didn’t you?” she asked her.
“Yes, we were together,” Ruakh replied. “They asked us first what our business was about, and questioned us about our interest in the Eh’yeh Stone and our knowledge of it. Then they wanted to know our thoughts of you all, as it seems they did with each of you. They kept Mereámé longer though, saying they wanted to talk to her about her previous visit.”
Mereámé flushed. “We shared history, news … information.”
“Secretive,” Kilith observed, casting a sideways glance her way.
“No, it’s nothing. Nothing you won’t find out soon yourselves, anyway.”
“And we should wait because …?” Kilith arched his eyebrows.
“We talked about my father, and how he and I have been. We spoke a little of the stone, but they asked me not to share everything until the timing was right.”
“When exactly is the timing right?” Oloren put in.
“When it is apparent to all of us, I suppose,” Mereámé answered, clearly feeling self-conscious under the scrutiny. “I want to tell you, I do. But I can’t break my word. Let’s talk about something else.”
Kilith raised an eyebrow. “Your loyalty is closer to the Nazir than to us?”
“Now, now,” Ruakh said evenly. “What is your impression of these Nazir, Kilith?”
Kilith narrowed his eyes, disapproving of the topic change, but he let it go. “Enouim, I think you’re right. It says something that they are still speaking to us at all. They don’t strike me as brash types, and will do nothing without adequate consideration. It could be they hold us here until they can consult with allies on the ground. Perhaps they are friendly with some of the local tribes or have representatives in Levav or other places. That would take time we do not have.”
“They are acquainted with Len Mandon, but from his expedition some fourteen years ago and not from Levav,” Ruakh returned. “I think any consulting they do will be in-house.”
“Glintenon, if only Canukke had kept his trap shut like he was told,” Oloren grumbled. “He had only one thing to do. One thing to focus on not doing. But no! That is precisely what he did. Couldn’t help himself.”
Mereámé shrugged. “It can’t be helped now. Maybe one reason they are asking us all what we think of each other is to find out if we are like him, or if he stands alone in his folly.”
“Which means they are at least mulling over the possibility of giving us information on the stone, in spite of him,” Enouim added.
“I certainly hope so,” Oloren said. “Or they are determining whether to dispatch with all of us or only a few. They’ve expended quite some effort into hiding themselves up here, only to be invaded by dirty, bumbling loudmouths.”
As Enouim pondered their potential fates, she breathed in the restful dynamic of the five of them. These were the gentle spirits of the group, and even in tension, they remained unified, respectfully batting ideas and worries back and forth. Kilith might be harboring hidden judgments, of course, but it didn’t show.
As minutes turned into an hour, and then two, the rest of their band was returned to them. Baird came first, making a few jokes, which Oloren easily jumped in to embellish. Vadik was next, followed by Gabor, and finally Canukke.
Canukke appeared to have pulled himself together enough to be diplomatic, and Enouim hoped to Glintenon it wasn’t an act, and that he had behaved himself. He was clearly still on edge, and Gabor didn’t help things. His eyes glared daggers when he saw Canukke, and they both bristled upon eye contact. Please no, Enouim begged them from the safe confines of her mind. Luckily, they shook off the moment and avoided each other.
Enouim wondered how his interview had gone, but their fearless leader didn’t have opportunity to share. Poleia had escorted him to rejoin them, as she had each of the others, and now she called for their attention.
“Thank you for your patience,” she said. “The Supreme Golden Guardian and Keeper of the First Layer request that you remain here tonight. Blankets and pillows you will find already prepared, laid out in each of the fall-ins.” Poleia indicated the cutouts in the surface of the other side of the landing, leading to the sleeping units Enouim had seen on her arrival.
“Our horses are down below,” Vadik said.
Gabor nodded. “Yes. And I am not too keen on closing my eyes up here. Perhaps we should go down tonight and return in the morning for the verdict.”
“The request was only a courtesy,” Poleia said simply.
Gabor and Vadik exchanged glances, but said nothing as the truth of her words settled in.
Willing or unwilling, they would be staying the night.
23
“But no sparrow flies to nest without sustenance, and since your stay here interferes with hunting and gathering, food will be brought shortly. Thank you.” With that, Poleia dipped her head and left them.
“Pious wretches, all high and mighty with their heads in the clouds,” Canukke said as soon as she’d gone. “And actually in the clouds! Can’t get more on the nose than that.”
“What happened?” Oloren asked.
“They asked my purpose, and about the stone, and what I would hope to do with it. They said I was a liar, and that I didn’t know what I was doing. The gall on these people.”
“Somehow I doubt they said that,” Ruakh commented.
The company cast glances between one another in a shared understanding.
“Well, what do you know? You weren’t there. That’s what they said. Trying to subvert my position, I’m sure. Let them. They’re the ones causing problems. And you blame me.”
Enouim and the rest of them gave Canukke plenty of space for the rest of the evening. None seemed too eager to engage him, and they were all too happy to give him a wide berth in favor of more pleasant company. Enouim thought a whipped dog wearing a crown would look much the same as he did. He would probably bite the same too, snarling at the hand that feeds him, afraid of betrayal at every turn.
As promised, a late supper was delivered within the hour. Enouim had very nearly expected to be served a plate of something that also mirrored the sky, as nearly everything else seemed to, or perhaps cut into a large ice cube. But one-third was made up of something in small, flat, white circles; the second third was, to her relief, familiar enough as roast bird of some kind; and finally the last third was some gray substance she was disinclined to touch much less eat. The circles she found harmless enough; they tasted like honey wafers. The bird was as delicious as she hoped. The gray stuff she tried at Oloren’s insistence and found it nearly as unfortunate as she’d imagined, though everyone else seemed utterly enchanted by it. Enouim traded some of her gray substance to Baird for more honey wafers, after looking around to make sure no Nazir hosts would see.
Darkness descended and the stars came out, but neither Nyeur nor Laskallel came to them again that evening—nor any other Nazir, for that matter. The company stayed up together talking quietly, before eventually accepting that no word of a decision would come that night and began choosing cubbyholes in which to sleep. Enouim squinted to examine the hammocks in the dim light. The floor still reflected the sky, but the blankets and pillows were solid blue and the surface strong beneath her feet. She chose the cubicle next to Mereámé—one row down so that Mereámé was at her head—and gingerly descended using cut-out footholds. Happily, Enouim was also sandwiched between Oloren and Baird in hammocks beside her.
She curled into her hammock on her side, wrapping herself securely within the warm blankets and listening to the comforting sounds of her friends’ murmuring voices. To her left, a grinning Baird and Vadik tossed something back and forth to one another from their hammocks. To her right, Oloren smiled and waved at her. Enouim bade her good night, twisted around, and said the same to Mereámé.
Flopping onto her back, she gazed at the stars and let the sight soothe her mind. It had much to be soothed from, as just this morning she’d had a panic attack by the riverbank, and since then had marched hours through a forest, attempted to analyze the meaning of said panic attack, and had been exposed to entirely novel and remarkable people and places. Of course, then Canukke had gone and muddled things just as Oloren had feared, and here they were, awaiting assistance or death. The usual. Enouim sighed and sank deeper into her blankets. Nothing could be done about it now. She imagined it was just as helpful to be well rested for bad news as for good, if not more so.
The morning came in soft, the moon loath to relinquish the night. Yet soon the sun overpowered the moon, and made a glorious entrance in vibrant reds and oranges. Red and pink trimmed three small clouds, and the light advanced until fire enveloped the clouds. Enouim found it at once aggressive and soothing. In the opposite direction, a blended purple and blue washed the horizon. Life was like that. Looking in one direction, one might be convinced that a situation was one way, and based on the opposite direction, another could be equally persuaded of his perspective, only to discover that something connected both. Complexity was precisely what enhanced the beauty of life. Enouim wondered which sort of morning it would be today.
She couldn’t help staring at the brilliant color all around her, and at this height, she was in the best place for appreciating such magnificence. Enouim got up slowly, entranced by the sky and wrapped up in her own wistful thoughts. Breakfast was brought to them, and all ate, saying little. At the close of the meal, the moment came that they’d all been waiting for. Nyeur and Laskallel glided onto their landing and made their approach.
Nyeur appeared to represent the eastern sky, while Laskallel presented the west; the same was true of Poleia and Yadara, respectively. They followed dutifully behind their superiors, and when Nyeur and Laskallel came to a stop, they fanned out one on either side, two steps behind.
“May the morning mist rise with us,” Laskallel greeted them.
The company, all seated, stood abruptly in response.
“May it rise,” Mereámé and Ruakh answered in unison.
“Long have we bent our thought upon your troubles,” Nyeur said, jumping straight into the matter at hand. “I will not delay in allaying the fear I see in your eyes. We are”—he looked at Laskallel—“willing to offer you our support, in our way, to the extent that our role permits.”
Silence. A grateful smile and nod from Mereámé. But what did it mean? Enouim was certainly grateful they were not all going to be “dispatched” as Oloren had postulated, but this brought up more questions than answers. After another stretch that made Enouim wonder if time passed differently for everyone else up here, she could take it no longer. “Thank you,” she heard herself stammer. “Tell us, what do you mean?”
“Ah, yes. There are varying goals among you. This is delicate. We are in no position to wage war, as birds and fish do not judge between foxes and wolves. But in one matter we may be able to benefit you. Despite your differences, all of you agreed on a primary objective: the Eh’yeh Stone.”
Laskallel picked up where her partner left off. “This stone is not to be sought lightly, and you would do well to count the cost. There is no going back.”
Nyeur nodded. “Some of you may wonder at our decision, after the events of yesterday, and our concerns are not altogether eliminated. We have determined, however, that none go to the stone unbidden. In our efforts to protect it, perhaps we forget that the stone does not need to be protected. Let our judgment of you be suspended, and may it be picked up again by Eh’yeh. We have been persuaded to grant you access to the information you desire.”
