THE GODS OF GARRAN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
They traveled for days towards the west. Este knew that the Chanden had settlements out there but she had never been. There were no roads there, that a vehicle could travel; one had to go by air. Even the Garrans didn't go there much and the ones that lived there were few. It was a wild place with so many strange beasts that no one had ever even named them all. The place was lush -- to the point that it was almost choked with life. The rains came daily with a few breaks now and then. But the nearly constant rain brought forth rampant life in the form of animals, bugs and plants.
The sea there was large and deep. The Garran never had been a boat-building culture and had some superstition about the dangers of traveling in the water. Small wonder--they had a superstition about everything. Perhaps there was some terrible sea monster. Este had never heard the reason why.
When Sindke had spoken of Gallo, Este recognized the name: Gallo, the god of the sea. He was a feared god because to the Garrans the sea was very mysterious and full of death. Perhaps it was their version of hell--that it contained all the souls that had done wrong in their life.
It was difficult to make her reports to the Agency without being detected. Sindke missed nothing and always had Este in sight, fussing over her. Somehow Sindke seemed convinced that Este had some power. The coincidence of finding the desert boy, Moorhen, with the map was what convinced her, Este was sure. The good news was that the map would lead them to the god-stones.
One morning as they journeyed, Este got time alone to make a more lengthy report and mentioned the god-stones and the Agency was very anxious to have them--at all costs, saying that they must not fall into Garran hands. Fighting had broken out--Moorhen's clan started it, and now the Chanden had retaliated and attacked some Garrans. She hoped this news didn't reach their group--there were maybe 12 dead, on the Garrans side. None on the Chandens. But a war was brewing. If it came to that, martial law would force them to round up all the Garrans--none of them could be trusted once they got riled up.
It had happened in a similar way 20 years ago. The Garrans got upset at the Chanden and instead of discussing things--they went out and killed Chanden citizens and sabotaged a factory in Karther. Shooting began at the factory and twenty Garrans were killed. After that, the natives went crazy. They fought back at the Chanden in every city--attacking without adequate weapons. Throwing themselves at the Chanden until the streets ran with their blood. They killed a lot of Chanden too, wild random attacks on isolated towns or areas. Cowards.
Este hoped it didn't come to that. She was alone with these Garrans--hundreds of miles from civilization. They'd kill her--Jarvaine would for sure. He nourished a deep hatred in his heart for those that had killed his sister and for anyone else who might be to blame. His hatred for the Chanden was just as strong. He always kept a close eye on her, as though he didn't trust her.
Moorhen, on the other hand, was innocent. It seemed impossible to anger him. The contempt she felt for all Garrans washed over him like water. His eyes were large and dark, empty of the bitterness that so many Garrans harbored towards everything--their life, their plight, their dead gods. He was not as strong as the others, not a warrior but the others respected him and followed him. Chief-right, she figured. It must be. At the death of his father, Moorhen had become chief. There was something reasonable about him--uncomfortably reasonable. All the things that she hated about the Garrans seemed absent in him. While the others spoke of the gods and the superstitions about them, he remained silent. He feared them but not unreasonably.
The storms were getting worse, making it hard to repack the animals to get back on the road--if you could call it a road. Sometimes she couldn't even see where the "road" was.
"I'll help you," Moorhen said, with a hint of a smile. He took her bags and put them on her yithhe. His smile was annoying as she wasn't sure what it meant. Did it mean he found her interesting and wanted access to her tent? Or was he just trying to be civil? (If a Garran were capable of it....).
"Thank you," she said, not sure how to respond.
They mounted and started out. They'd left the desert behind them and come out into some kind of bog. Any kind of 'road' gave way to an endless mass of mud and goo, surrounded by squat green plants and slippery marsh grass. There was a continual foul smell that Este couldn't identify and didn't really want to. A constant mist hung on the air and rain become more common.
Worst of all were the bugs. Este had bug repellant but using it was awkward as it was strictly a Chanden thing and she didn't want anything right now that would link her to the Chanden. It could be worth her life. Almost worth it, she though, as she swatted another of the blood-sucking beasts.
Moorhen pulled up along side her, amused at her antics, swatting the bugs and trying to keep from getting bit. He laughed out loud at her and she gave him the deadliest glare she was capable of. He sobered up a little and rode off. His face was disarming in its sincerity.
Este let her yithhe lag behind a little. The others were up front and somehow she'd found herself in the rear. Convenient--for reporting to the Agency. She got out her concom device and typed in a message -- the "all is well" code. Then she sent that the god-stone was most probably on the Kinsikk Sea and that she was headed there. A message came back that they would send agents out there, to be close at hand, in case they did find the god-stone. The Agency wanted to get it before the Garrans had time to claim any "miracles" or cause any hysteria. Hopefully quietly.
As she rode this began to weigh on her mind. This assignment was a higher level than she had ever done before. A secret mission. Would it do to leave survivors to tell the tale? Or would the agency kill these people? It wasn't a question she had asked. The sorts of things she'd done up till now weren't this critical. Task forces of agents didn't come along afterward to silence any witnesses. The thought made her uncomfortable.
None of these people had done anything wrong, really. Sindke was kind even if she was a little wacky. The Garrans respected her. Killing her could have repercussions. And Moorhen--he had done nothing wrong, only to be in the wrong place at this time. But he didn't deserve to die.
Then Este chided herself. She was letting her imagination work overtime. She didn't know for sure that the Chanden would do such a thing. It wasn't legal--not that that had stopped them from doing things in an "unconventional fashion."
Determined to put it out of her mind, Este spurred her yithhe forward onto what looking like an unpromising section of the trail--but it was deeper than she expected. They'd stepped into a mud-pit and as the yithhe struggled to get out Este fell off. She managed to scream before she hit the mud. Flailing her arms around, she tried to get hold of the yithhe's tackle but couldn't get ahold of it. Then the yithhe made it out of the bog and stood there, looking at her.
She slipped under then. Her movement pulled her under. She panicked. Este wasn't a swimmer and the others were ahead--out of sight. Frantically she tried to break up to the surface again. But the muddy water was thick and slimy and somehow gravity got lost beneath it. She soon had no idea which way was up. She stopped moving. She opened her eyes and the mud stung her eyes. She convulsed. There was no way to see and she was panicking.
Starved of air, she picked a direction and tried to swim, searching frantically for the surface. To no avail. A wave of dizziness passed over her. She'd pass out, then it would be over. She would die here. The thought stunned her and she stopped struggling. Dizziness came over her again.
The earth had caught her. Funny, in a way. She had arranged to betray the Garrans and their gods. Now the gods had their revenge--they had reached up and grabbed her and pulled her into the earth to deal out a retribution to her. The thought was overwhelming and born of fear. She could not dispel the image of an angry god from her mind. Watching her, as she drown. Mocking her.
You betray us, we will betray you. She imagined that they would say.
You kill us, we will kill you.
Este opened her mouth to scream and darkness overcame her.
When Este awoke, her breath was ragged but she was free of the mud-pit. Once she regained her senses, she realized that Moorhen was bending over her. He must have pulled her out. She coughed terribly and he brought her a drink of water. He was filthy from head to foot and she realized she was the same. He had wiped off her face and hands so that it was somewhat free of the mud.
He grinned at her. "Feeling better?" She couldn't tell if he was being friendly or emphasizing her carelessness with that smug grin. She felt angry at him even though she should have been grateful.
"Yes," she said more coldly than she meant to, struggling to get up off the ground but her clothes were wet and sticky and she stumbled and fell again, destroying any dignity she had left.
He was at her side immediately. "Carefully," he said, more seriously. "You're lucky to be alive." He wasn't grinning now but she felt his eyes were laughing at her. Was she angry at him because it was hard to deny that, under it all, she found him handsome? Or was it because now she owed him her life and that would make it that much more complicated to sacrifice his?
She managed to stand without taking the hand he offered. "I'll be fine," she said. She felt a lot less steady than she was trying to portray. Her head still felt quite woozy. She cleaned up as best she could as did Moorhen (which wasn't much). No wonder these Garran are always so filthy. She mounted her yithhe and set out after the others; Moorhen followed, taking the rear.
That night when they stopped for camp, Este took some clean clothes from her pack. "I'm going to wash up," she said. "I'll be back." She slipped off through the bushes which had become taller and were now almost the size of trees. They had strange rubbery like branches and the undergrowth was thick. Small pools of water were everywhere in this marsh, as were the bugs. But she'd decided to risk the bugs for a bath.
She found a pool easily enough and began to undress when Moorhen caught up with her. "Be careful of mud-pits," he said good-naturedly, and she assumed this was their idea of humor. He began undressing as well. "I need a bath too, after this morning."
"What....?" she stared at him in shock and then remembered that the Garrans had no social embarrassment about nudity. He stopped undressing and gave her an odd stare. Only a Chanden woman would object to this, she thought quickly. "What makes you think I can't take care of myself?" she asked. Reluctantly, she continued undressing. To display embarrassment would give herself away.
He gave her that annoying smile, as if thinking back on this morning, but said nothing. She was really starting to hate this one. Did he just want to see her naked or was he really concerned for her safety? Quickly she finished undressing and slipped into the water, glad at last of a little modesty.
He, on the other hand, continued undressing casually and Este found it very distracting. She hadn't thought him particularly strong but all the Garrans were well-built and even the weakest was as athletic as the best Chanden. His body was certainly not difficult to look at. She tried to ignore him as she washed.
Soon he jumped in the water, causing waves and smiled at her as he washed. She knew that in Garran customs a bath with the opposite sex meant nothing. She hoped that that were true in every case. Once she was clean she got out and quickly dried off and dressed in her clean clothes. Then she began washing her dirty clothes out and her pouch that she carried.
Moorhen continued swimming in the pool and watching her. She turned her attention to her own tasks. As she got the mud out of her pouch and washed things out in there she stopped. The comset was missing. She panicked. It must have fallen out in the mud-pit, miles back. Without it, she couldn't make her daily signal and let them know she was all right. They'd assume she was in danger because she hadn't made contact and send in agents after her. She still had the internal locator device tracking her. She wasn't sure that the god-stone was really here or if this was another "clue." The operation could be spoiled.
Also, if they thought she was in danger, they would probably come in shooting. She could be endangering these people. Moorhen got out of the water and dried off, sitting there naked a moment more as he washed his one pair of clothes and put them on wet. He didn't deserve to die.
She finished up her washing and Moorhen followed her back to camp.
During the next day they traveled closer to the sea and Sindke said that they should reach it by nightfall. The shrubs turned to trees and the undergrowth grew rampant and green. The land became more solid and Este was relieved to learn they were through the marsh.
Moorhen was never far from her side but always a little distance from her, as though he had appointed himself her guardian somehow. She ignored him as best she could but during the long ride occasionally her thoughts strayed. Five years she'd worked at these covert operation and she was never at home long enough to pursue any relationship and the danger involved made her feel guilty in making a man wait for her. Always she planned to quit and lead a more normal life but the money was so good that she kept saving it up against the day that she'd leave and start over.
She was lonely. Riding now alongside Moorhen, she realized that. She'd always felt that she didn't need anyone and that she was fine on her own. But it wasn't true. The thought made her angry and even more angry at Moorhen who wouldn't stop smiling at her and being more polite than a Garran should.
Towards midday they came on a terrible sight that made them stop. Miles and miles of burned land. It shocked the senses to come out of that riot of green into an almost endless patch of black. Este was as horrified as the rest of them and before any of them spoke, she knew what had happened here. Garran plants contained an irritant, something not compatible with native Chanden plants. In order to plant crops, the Chanden burned acres of land free, to clear it. She had no idea the great empty place it left on the countryside.
"The Chanden did this," said Jarvaine, angry. "The bastards should die!"
Sindke raised her hand to silence him.
"How can they do such a thing?" asked Moorhen, his eyes full of disbelief. Este felt ashamed. She wanted to explain but couldn't. And even to herself now the explanation seemed weak. Chanden preferred Chanden food so they destroyed the local ecology in favor of a new set of plants, foreign plants. Chanden arrogance again. The Garrans weren't fools; they knew the wrong the Chanden's committed.
They continued towards the sea through the endless black hills. Death. Darkness. Was this the Chanden legacy? It weighed heavily on her mind--the casualness which which they destroyed--and so near a place sacred to the Garrans.
In the early evening they came upon a small Chanden farm. Here the land had been converted to Chanden crops (food that Este highly preferred to the bland Garran vegetables). They stopped while Jarvaine and Draihe scouted ahead. Stalking this farm made her nervous and Este hoped that no violence broke out between them. If it came to a fight, Este didn't want to have to attack her own people in order to keep her cover. The thought ate at her.
Moorhen sensed her uneasiness and glanced at her but she avoided his eyes, hoping not to draw attention to herself right now.
Soon the others signaled a come-ahead and Este followed the others forward, with trepidation. As they approached the main complex Este saw the bodies strewn about--Chanden farmers. Dead. She was shocked and stopped her yithhe to stare at them.
Jarvaine and Draihe met them there. "Dead--all of them," he said. "And good riddance. The less of them here the better." He spat.
"They've been dead a day, maybe," said Draihe. "No evidence as to whose work it was."
"White Storm Clan--I'd lay a bet on it." said Jarvaine, "I say we kill any Chanden we find."
Este held her tongue even though she wanted to speak out. To her surprise, Moorhen did it for her. "That would be foolish," he said. "To what end?"
"They deserve it!" shouted Jarvaine. "You saw what they did!"
"They've done worse than this," said Sindke quietly.
"Killing them doesn't solve things," argued Moorhen, "it only makes it worse. They're too strong. We can't fight them."
"Not until we get the god-stone," said Jarvaine. "Then they will pay."
Moorhen said nothing but didn't looked at all convinced. Was he the only sane one among them? Este shivered. But she understood their anger at the burning of the plants. There was a terrible wrongness to it that she couldn't rationally explain.
They traveled the rest of the evening in silence, for which Este was glad. They found a spot to camp and set up a watch. Este was able to curl up and though worried, finally she fell asleep.
But her dreams were troubled and in them she stood in a wide ash-filled field and walked. The field went on endlessly until it came to the sea, which had no shore but high cliff walls upon which the angry sea threw itself continually. On the cliff was a pylon made by the gods, made of moonstone. She walked past this and stood on the edge of the cliff.
It was stormy and the sea churned below. She could feel its anger and understood it. The spirit of the sea was strong and it spoke to her in words she couldn't quite make out. Images came to her mind: fire, brimstone, craggy rocks, a tall rounded mountain. If she could get closer....
Something jolted her out of the dream, as though she'd been hit by something. She struggled awake to find herself laying on hard rock with Moorhen laying over her. She cried out and tried to get up but he held her down. She'd kill him! And she felt for her knife but before she could, he got off her.
Quickly she sat up, embarrassed at this impropriety. Then as her senses returned, she realized she was on the cliff near the pylon. The others stood around her.
"You should not have done that!" said Sindke, angry.
"She would have thrown herself off the cliff!" said Moorhen.
Este struggled to her feet, still trying to grasp the situation.
"I think not," said Sindke. "Now the dream is broken."
Este stared around at them. She had done it again--the sleepwalking and they had let her. Had followed her. "What...?" she asked.
"I'm sorry," said Moorhen, partly to her, for wrestling her to the ground, and partly to them.
"What is going on?" she demanded.
"You have led us to the god-tower but we have yet to discover the meaning of it or where the god-stone is," said Sindke.
"Well I don't know!" said Este. But none of them believed her. Anyway, how had she led them here? She felt a little dizziness and Moorhen reached out to steady her.
"She's worn out," he said. "Shouldn't we rest now?"
They had walked all night to the sea, following her. Este, feeling a little more steady now, walked back near the edge of the cliff and looked out at the sea. It looked as it did in the dream--stormy, mysterious, angry. Almost she could hear its voice but now it was muffled and fading. The images were gone.
Sindke watched her closely. "What is it?"
Este shook her head.
"Are the god-stones here?" asked Sindke.
"No," said Este, surprised at her answer. Then feeling more sure. "No, there aren't."
The others exchanged glances.
"Then where?" asked Jarvaine, impatiently.
Este walked back to the moonstone pylon. There were two symbols on it, neither of them Este could read. "What does it say?"
"Fire and earth," said Sindke.
"Fire and earth?" echoed Este.
"What does that mean?" asked Moorhen.
"It's a place," said Este. "Fire and earth. It's where the stones are."
"Fire and earth?" asked Jarvaine, dubious.
"Some sort of mountain," said Este.
"The Northern Cones?" asked Sindke. "Yes, the mountains are strong in stone there. Akannus, the earth god. That is his domain. The stone would be there." She looked to Este for confirmation.
"Yes," Este said slowly. "A large rounded mountain of fire."
"Then that's where we'll go," said Sindke.
They traveled northeast, gradually leaving behind the green lush land of the west and making their way again across an endless desert.
Este seemed worried about something and stayed aloof as usual, but Moorhen caught her glancing at him every now and then as though curious about him or thinking about him. This surprised him. She had an elegance about her and a disdain. He guessed that her family was well-off or one of the higher clans, the way she acted. This interest seemed out of character for her. And there was a loneliness about her that Moorhen felt drawn to fill. It didn't seem right that she be allowed to confine herself to continual solitude.
She was beautiful, her hair, her body. He remembered her at the pool, bathing. It was a pleasant memory. She had delicate lips and a pale face but she was not always delicate. In battle she could be fierce and he admired her. Her strange fits of sleepwalking were disturbing and again he felt she needed to be protected, against herself at times.
Overall she was a mystery, and maybe that's why Moorhen spent so much time thinking about her and her oddities.
Moorhen was drawn out of his reverie a by small movement on the horizon. He'd seen this earlier, while they traversed the marshes but now they were in the desert there was less cover. He stopped his yithhe and looked carefully across the horizon. He didn't see it now, but he had seen movement, behind them.
Concerned, he spurred his yithhe and left the rear and went up to Sindke who led the front.
"I saw something," said Moorhen. "I think we're being followed."
"Followed?" asked Sindke.
Everyone's eyes immediately went to the horizon. But there was no movement.
"It's gone now, but I've seen it several times."
Sindke nodded. "We'll take precautions." They turned more to the east, heading for a small bit of cover there provided by low trees and shrubs.
At a nod from Sindke, Jarvaine and Draihe left the group to scout behind and to the side of them.
Who would be following them? Not the Red Sun Clan, not this far north. The only answer seemed to be the Chanden. Had they tracked them somehow? Maybe with their airships? Surely they'd lost them by now. Or were they following them because of the farm back near the Kinsikk Sea?
In all this Este said nothing and seemed unaffected. She always seemed to be half in a dream state to Moorhen. Preoccupied. Worried. But why?
The brown of the desert gave way to a red colored sand and the ridges became more defined, more fantastical, assuming the shape of faces, bodies, monsters, towers. These strange sand formations stood on their own, like statues, scattered randomly through the desert or in groups. It made the hair stand up on Moorhen's neck to see them. He was sure this was Ghoul Hollow--a place said to be haunted by the souls of the ages.
The earth was very dry here and no streams ran. They rationed their water carefully for they did not think they'd find water again until they returned south.
It was difficult to feel at ease while traveling in this grotesque landscape and more than once Moorhen thought he saw movement--creatures or men--in the distance. But Jarvaine and Draihe kept scouting and reported back that they saw nothing, only wild creatures, and none that would likely attack a large party.
Ahead, still in the distance, were the Northern Cones. These mountains were strangely shaped, like a cone--large at the base then tapering to a point at the top. Some of these mountains smoked, others were silent. But it was known these mountains would overflow with brimstone from time to time--with no warning.
Therefore Moorhen was on edge and watching them constantly, especially as they neared them, lest any of them explode with fire and rain it down upon them. A man's life could end quickly in these hills.
Here the land was black, as though turned that way by some evil, the rocks and sand were black. The fire-mountains were black and there was little vegetation--yellow scrub-grass and sometimes fireweed, whose tip was red, adding a little color to the landscape, though it was ominous in its color. Occasionally a patch of it moved on a mountainside, giving the illusion of brimstone moving down the mountain. The others had been chagrinned when he called fire and then it turned out not to be so.
Once in the Northern Cones, as evening drew near, they all watched Este, furtively, because she seemed to have the knowing of things regarding the gods.
Crysethe returned from her own reconnaissance trip. "Chanden, I saw them!" she cried. "Following us to the east and south." Jarvaine and Draihe took out in that direction but returned in an hour saying that they couldn't see them.
"They're there," she insisted, "following us. Five of them."
It couldn't be proved but all of them continued cautiously. It seemed unlikely that they would come out this far into the wastelands. If they had why didn't they attack? Why follow them? Unless they knew that they searched for the god-stones and how would they know that? Sindke was the leader of the Clan Tribunal. She would not have brought anyone would could be traitor along, surely?
Jarvaine was well-known among the Garrans, high up in his clan and it being one of the older clans. He would never betray them. Nor Sindke. Este was god-touched--it was clear to everyone. She would be incapable of betrayal and still be able to commune with the gods. The rest were Sand Plan Clan and known to Moorhen. They must have discovered their purpose some other way. Perhaps one of the wounded who left had given them away.
Or it was Crysethe's imagination. But though the others often laughed off her observations he found they were often true. So he kept a sharp lookout.
Este looked over at Moorhen, as though she'd say something. Worried--maybe about the Chanden. But she kept silent.
Moorhen wondered if they shouldn't just camp and wait for Este to lead them to the resting place of the stone. But Sindke kept going until past sunset. She was making for the center of the three largest cones. There was a valley there which few people ever went to. These three cones being awake and most often spewing forth fire--it was a dangerous place to be. Perhaps she hoped the Chanden, if there were any, would not dare to follow them. Moorhen doubted that though--the Chanden were an unholy people and didn't fear proper things.
In the end, they didn't need Este's help in finding the god's monument. Once they entered the Valley of Fire, they saw it there in the center of the valley. Seven red sand spires reached up to the heavens, almost as tall as the mountains. There was no question but this would be the place.
They went towards it.
The ground rumbled from time to time and trembled while the Fire Cones slept, restlessly, around them.
As they drew near the entrance to the sand fortress, they slowed down and dismounted their yithhe.
"We will leave the animals here," said Sindke. "Child, you will watch them."
She spoke to Crysethe.
"Yes," said Crysethe and she began at once to take care of them.
The rest dismounted and left their packs there. There was no need to say that they may need to leave in a hurry. The placement of the fortress in the middle of the valley of fire was surely deliberate. If the gods grew angry--or if the wrong person took the god-stones--they could wreak their revenge, spilling fire into the valley before the transgressors could escape. Few were foolish enough even to come to this forbidden place.
They entered what seemed like a doorway, even though the place was not man-made but carved by the wind out of sandstone. The floor was sand and black rock together with crystals. Nowhere was there any manmade structure, carvings or doors. In a few minutes they had walked the length of the whole cavern but found nothing.
"Search it," said Sindke. "It must be here."
They spread out and searched but all there was was sandstone formations and the floor. The ceiling was open to the sky, ringed on each side by sand towers.
The only one who didn't search was Este, who stood in the center of the place, waiting--as though for the others to find the god-stone. Moorhen searched but didn't go far from her side.
Their searching turned up nothing. They met again, around Este.
Now short on food and water rations and with a force of Chanden after them. They'd come to the right place--hadn't they? Or was there truly such a thing as a god-stone?
CHAPTER TWELVE
It was fully dark now and the others had failed to find the stone. Este stood in the middle of the sand fortress and waited, nervously. She had wanted them to find the god-stone but now, standing in the place that it was sure to be, she was no longer certain.
There was no question in Este's mind that they were being followed by the Agency and that they also hoped to get the god-stone--to take it as soon as it was discovered. They would attack the group before they left the valley. But this tale could never be told--so those involved, her self aside, would have to be silenced. The easiest way for the Agency to do that would be to kill them. It was illegal, but it was so convenient and easy. She had heard rumors of such things in the past. She didn't doubt that they would either kill these people or capture them. Maybe hold them and question them for awhile but they would never again be set free.
There was a power here--hidden deep beneath the earth. She felt it--violent, angry and powerful. Party asleep. It was seeking her but she closed herself to it.
She watched them search willing them not to find it--and they didn't. She kept her mind blank, hoping to evade the power beneath them. They would fail to find it and they would leave. The god-stone would remain untouched. The Chanden nor the Garrans would have the weapon they sought.
Almost she had warned them--almost she had told Moorhen that their lives were in danger--but then they'd know her for a spy, for a Chanden. And self-preservation was still stronger than her will to do good. Now it was too late to warn them. Too late to make any confession-only to hope for failure. This she hoped would save them. Then at night, she'd slip out of their camp and go to the Chanden. They could take her safely back home. It was the only way. She'd go no further on this journey.
The others gathered again in the center of the fortress and looked at her.
"Where is it, Este?" asked Sindke.
"I don't know," she said. The truth.
Sindke studied her in that piercing, annoying way that she had of looking through a person.
"It's not here," insisted Este. "We've failed." She felt an urgency to be gone from this place.
"You directed us here," said Sindke, quietly.
"I was wrong! I'm sorry."
The old woman did not believe her and continued to stare at her as though doing so would somehow force the truth from Este.
"We should be going," said Este. "This place isn't safe."
"From what?" persisted Sindke.
The power deep beneath the earth's surface was growing restless. Este heard the rumblings. Maybe there was another fear that haunted her. Perhaps it was a fear that the legends were true and that if she took the god-stone--it would know her for what she was--a fraud. The volcanos would erupt and destroy them all--if the gods really could discern the heart.
But she was thinking nonsense.
Este wanted to leave, lead the way out of the sand fortress but something held her rooted where she stood. She fought a wave of dizziness. The power beneath the earth merely protected another even greater power. She could feel it very near. The god-stone. It spoke without words to her mind--the source of the dream that she could never quite remember. It held secrets of great importance.
She felt it drawing her. She cast her gaze on the stone tower that stood in front of her. It's surface was jagged and broken, as all of them were. Now that she looked at it, she notice that the rocky surface held a pattern. In the stone there were steps, barely noticeable, that led up the side of the tower.
Sindke noticed her gaze and followed it to the tower. She took a step towards it, her eyes widening a little. The others began looking at the tower, and still hadn't seen the stairs yet. "Why do you hesitate?" asked Sindke. "Take the stone."
Take the stone. Why not? If she didn't the Chanden would find it anyway. There were watching. They could tear the place up looking for it, disrupting the peace of this place--angering what lay beneath it. And the stones held the answer to some question that Este didn't fully understand. It had to be found.
Este gave in to the urge to act and went forward and began climbing. Some of the others were surprised, seeing the stairs only now that she was on them. Briefly Este wondered why Sindke had not climbed up herself to take the stone. Down below she saw Moorhen watching her with a worried look on his face.
Another wave of dizziness passed over her but it didn't cause her to lose her footing. She kept going up the steep side of the tower until she reached the top. Inside the top of the tower was a small chamber and on a pedestal in the center of the chamber, was an exquisite white stone.
The air felt electric and the moon reflected off the stone giving a small aura to the room. Here the dream-song was louder, almost understandable. Entranced, Este moved forward until her hand lay on the stone.
It felt warm to the touch--and Este was sure that she felt it move. The warmth passed from the stone, up her arm and throughout her entire body. Este's head buzzed and there was a ringing in her ears, accompanied by another wave of dizziness. Knowledge burst forth through Este's mind--visions of the past, people, faces, circumstances, purposes, failures. These things mixed with the knowledge Este's mind held--the Chanden, their plans, the Agency, her father, all that was Este.
An anger grew inside her. Around her was a rumbling and the room seem to whirl around. The spells of dizziness nearly knocked Este to her feet and in fact she felt the physical world slip away and come back. Something knocked her to her knees and she found the stone in her hand. Somehow she had taken it from the pedestal.
Este trembled and was unable to stand. Her dizziness made the room seems unstable, as though it were moving. She called out, unable to stop the storm of visions opening on her mind. Unable to make sense of them in so quick a time.
Then someone was standing over her, shouting at her.
"We have to go, Este!" he knelt at her side, taking her arm. "Now!"
She looked at him, only half hearing him. Not sure exactly what he meant.
"You've woken the mountain, Este. This place won't last long," he said and helped her to her feet. She realized it was not dizziness that made the floor seem to move--it was moving. Moorhen half dragged, half-carried Este to the stairs and then she regained enough of her wits to stumble down the stairs with Moorhen at her back pushing her along. "Hurry!"
They arrive at the bottom. Part of the sand fortress had already collapsed, debris was scattered here and there.
"I have the stone," said Este and held it up.
The others stared at it, awed.
"We must go," said Sindke.
Este nodded and packed the stone in a cloth and shoved it in her pouch.
"Is she all right?" asked Moorhen to Sindke. "Is it not dangerous for her to carry?"
But there wasn't time and they ran out as quickly as they could. Around them the ground rumbled and shook, like an earthquake. Parts of the towers began to fall all around them.
They arrived and found their animals and the young girl dead. A group of about 18 Chanden agents faced them.
"Drop your weapons," said the leader.
It was the agency. They'd come. Este wondered now if they may not kill her along with the others and take the stone. The truth was--she didn't want to give it up to them. Not to the Chanden, not the Garrans--not to anyone.
Moorhen stared at his dead sister in disbelief. Este felt his deep grief and an anger at the blood that had been split, carelessly by these greedy bureaucrats that cared nothing for anything but power--a commodity that they had only begun to grasp.
"Go to hell!" shouted Draihe. "Bastards!" She pulled out her bow to shoot and one of the Chanden struck her down.
Este was hit with a furious wave of anger, and the ringing in her head returned. Things faded into white momentarily and she lost her footing. The next thing she knew, she was laying on the ground.
Again it was Moorhen who grabbed her arm. "Come on!"
"What--?" she tried to ask.
"Let's go!" He got her to her feet. The land was lit with yellow and red light. She turned and saw that one of the volcanos had gone off. The lava was pouring out of the top of the mountain, but also from the side and from patches at it's base. A loud crack sounded and the ground shook again. She realized the ground was split between them and the agency men. Suddenly the gap widened.
Moorhen jerked her around and they ran in the opposite direction--where Sindke and the others were already headed. Este glanced back at the Chandens--they were too preoccupied to shoot and unable to follow because of the wide crack the earthquake had caused between them.
They ran for nearly an hour or more, reaching the nearest volcano and getting out of the valley of fire.
"How did they know?" asked Jarvaine. "The Chanden."
"I don't know," said Sindke.
What had happened? Este knew something was different. She felt she was losing her grip. Whatever had happened to her in the sand fortress, with the stone, was affecting her in an unusual way. Her mind was scattered, patchy, she couldn't hold her thoughts. Flashes of anger took her and sometimes as she walked time passed in an instant as though she'd fallen asleep while walking and woke up later.
Voices spoke in her head that she couldn't quite make out. It was the god-stone, she realized. It had done something to her--was doing something to her.
As they made their way around the far side of the mountain, Este stopped and pulled the stone out of the pouch and threw it down the mountainside, hoping for freedom from the confusion.
Sindke cried out--but too late. The stone fell down 30 maybe 40 feet and landed on a ledge. They all stared at her in horror.
Pain hit Este like a dagger and she buckled over, unable to breathe.
"Este!" shouted Moorhen, suddenly at her side. "What's wrong with her?"
Sindke drew nearer. "The god-stone has bonded with her. She needs the stone now."
Este cried out from the unbearable pain. She became less aware of their conversation. But she knew that someone had climbed down after the stone. The absence of the stone weighed on her, like part of her had been torn from her. She felt like half a person--incapacitated.
More talking. Some movement.
"Here," said Moorhen, and something warm was thrust into her hand. The god-stone. Order returned. Her thoughts realigned. The pain faded leaving only dizziness and a ringing in her ears. She clutched the stone as it breathed life back into her. Then she put it back in her pouch.
"Is she all right?" asked Moorhen.
Sindke studied her silently. "We shall see." They continued their journey.
"The Gods of Garran" by Lareena Smith, (c)2004