Mind Over Psyche (7 page)

Seeing the area clear, he pulled himself up, snagged Deryl's towel, and strode to the lockers. If nothing else, he could dress and w
ait there.

What if she's in the locker room?
he thought, then shoved down his panic.
I'll just ask for privacy. Even if they don't understand lust, they have to have some concept of priva
cy, right?

He stepped through the weird door to find two everyn circling the room. He froze at the threshold.
What? Co-species as well
as co-ed?

A young man in a colorful vest over a beige shirt and pants rose from where he lounged. “You are Joshua?” He spoke with Tasmae's accent—Deryl
's accent.

“Yeah…?”

The stranger nodded, his eyes moving over Joshua. “She said you had the color of rich earth. I am Ocapo, Bondfriend to—” He made a piercing cry followed by a warble, so Joshua guessed he was talking about the tiny dragon over their heads. “But you may call him Spot.” He made a second sound. “—is not bonded, but serves with us. Tasmae has given me your language and asked us to befr
iend you.”

“Okay,” Joshua said slowly. “Uh, can I dre
ss first?”

*

Deryl retrieved Joshua's towel, flinging the sopping thing onto the ground, then swam the length of the pool. He concentrated only on how his strokes cut through the water, trying to decide if the water really was more viscous than regular water or if it was just his imagination. He did not want to think about Leinad's distrust, Joshua's worry—or his reaction to seei
ng Tasmae.

But when he turned around to head back to the shallow end and saw Tasmae lounging there, he knew evading the problem wouldn't help. At least she was up to her neck in the d
ark water.

He swam underwater until his fingers brushed the bottom, then surfaced and walked the rest of the way. The edge was lined with seats, and he took one not far
from hers.

“Joshua decided to go in,” he
told her.

She nodded in that odd way they had, but didn't open her eyes. She sent him the image of a young man with wild hair, a large grin, and an everyn on his shoulder, and he understood that Ocapo and the everyns had the juice to soothe Joshua's throat and would keep watch over h
im awhile.

Which left him alone wi
th Tasmae.

He found his thoughts jumbled and his tongue—even his teleping tongue—tied. Fortunately, she had a topic of conversation in mind, and she did not intend to let him put her off as he had earlier. He'd seen his Joshua; he knew he was fine; now, Deryl would answer her
questions.

He embraced her determination and the distraction it brought from…oth
er things.

I'm here because you Called me
, he told her.
I was in danger, and I was thinking about escape just as you
Called me.

Danger? You said you had been sick, had al
most died—

That was my appendix.
He shared with her what little the doctor explained about the surgery and his
recovery.

“Wait a minute!” He set his hand on his side, found it smooth and whole. So the healers had taken care of him. He felt awful for doub
ting them.

They did not touch your mind
, she assured him.
You are the Ydrel. But why has the oracle of God come to us now?
He felt her doubts—was he, then, an
imposter?

He impressed on her negation. He was no oracle, of God or anything else. But he was the Ydrel who had given the Miscria the information they
'd sought.

What else could you be?
Tasmae sa
t forward.

Once again, her unusual beauty struck him, and part of him answered that he was very much a man. He squashed that thought, and all the ones that wanted to follow, before Tasmae picked it up. Joshua was right: that line of thinking would only lead to trouble, and they were in enough trouble
as it was.

Joshua has a better handle on the situation, and he's not even psychic. I should have focused more on Leinad and Salgoud. Tasmae trusts them. I have got to pay better attention. I need to be what these people expect from me…even if I'm not sure wha
t that is.

On Earth, he could have read the person's mind and played into the persona. Here, he had the feeling such an intrusion would earn him a knife i
n the gut.

Tasmae still watched him intently. He tried to look at her face, but his eyes m
oved down.

Three parallel scars marred the front of her shoulder, just above the
waterline.

She touched them.
From the times I have killed.
The she reached out and took his hand, turning it over to examine the jagged scar that ran the length of
his wrist.

“From the time I refused to kill,” he
whispered.

“But you are the Ydrel.” She replied in a whisper, but because of her touch, he felt her confusion, so strong it hurt: An oracle, an angel, she could understand. But a man, teaching her war and refusin
g to kill?

His stomach twisted with her
suspicion.

I don't understand this any better than you!
He jerked his hand away. His resolve crumbled in his need—her need—to make her understand.
Tasmae, I didn't know what I was doing. You asked questions, I gave answers. It wasn't until my birt
hday that—

You refused my questions.
She finished hi
s thought.

And I found out what you really were. I still don't know what all of this means. I swear, if I knew—if I had a hint—I'd share it
with you.

He felt a clutch of fear and knew it was hers.
You do not know, but Gardi
anju does.

Who?

Her surprise hit him like an electric shock, bringing with it a fury of information.
Wha
t are you?

Images and emotions strobed into his mind, confusing him. He fought to think past them.
Deryl. The Ydrel. But I don't remember…Who is Gardianju? Anothe
r Miscria?

She pulled away from him, psychically as well as physically. He gasped at the sudden
emptiness.

I must experience her Remembrance. You may not see me for sev
eral days.

She released her hair from the clip and swam away, her long black tresses moving in sinuous waves. He leaned back against the wall of the pool, fighting to catch his breath as the knowledge she'd passed to him played in
his mind.

Gardianju! Another Miscria—who had been in contact with him. Gardianju, the firs
t Miscria.

Gardianju, who went insane and died over five thousand
years ago.

Deryl rose from the
pool and went to change, his head swimming with confusion and his stomach queasy. He noted with relief that Ocapo had taken Joshua somewhere, and that someone had left fresh clothes for him. He pulled the pants drawstring tight and slipped on the shirt, not bothering to tuck it in, and headed to one of the observation “nests,” where he could pick apart the tangled ball of information that had wrapped itself around the name “Gardianju.”

He didn't remember Gardianju. He didn't remember any of the Miscria besides Tasmae. Their Callings had followed the same pattern: pull him from consciousness and instill in him a compulsion to learn something, transmit the information, and wait for the next Calling. Only after Joshua suggested he stand up to this mysterious Miscria, had he discovered “it” w
as Tasmae.

Tasmae wasn't the first. I knew that
, he scolded himself after he'd navigated the narrow hall to the open platform that overhung the compound. The view was stunning, and he wished he could distract himself with it. Elbows on the low wall, he buried his face in his hands and closed his eyes.
Besides, no one could have put all my suggestions in place in five years. The medics, the weaponry, the fortresses. But five thous
and years?

Yet after his operation when he'd forced her out of his mind, blocked her altogether, she had turned right around to Call him again. Hours for her, but over a wee
k for him.

Time is relative and irrelevant. The Calls must come base
d on need.

He took a deep breath, making himself relax as the information unknotted in his mind. Gardianju, the first Miscria. Generations followed, but not all spoke to him. Most spent their talent holding the world
together.

But what does that mean?
He shook
his head.

Most held the world together, but when Kanaan had great need, the Ydrel blessed the Miscria with its presence, gave it knowledge—to save lives, to protect the Kanaan, to fight the
invaders.

The compulsion comes when Barin shows itself in the sky. When Barin outshines the moons, the Ydrel retreats and th
e Miscria…

The Miscria what? Tasmae, what?
Deryl dug his fingers into his hair and pulled, trying to co
ncentrate.

Pain. Madness. Raging at the invading planet. Drawing strength from others, like psychic
vampirism.

No.

Plants, animals, people fall ar
ound them.

No, p
lease, no!

One thought
consumes.

Please
! Stop it!

GO AWAY!

“Deryl, you a
ll right?”

“No!” Deryl shouted and spun, pushing with his mind. His eyes
flew open.

Joshua had staggered and grabbed the low wall to regain his balance. “Hey! Deryl, what is it? Are you a
ll right?”

“I, I'm not sure.” He fought to control his br
eath. “I—”

“Well, get it together,” Joshua hissed and jerked his head toward the young man just coming through the door. “Someone wants to
meet you.”

“Right,” he said, running his hands through his hair, brushing off the last of the visions. He had to be missing something. He took a breath, made sure his shields were in place, and greeted Ocapo with the same salute Tasmae had
given him.

Ocapo rushed to him and enveloped him
in a hug.

All the fearful memories of Gardianju and the other Miscrias were washed away in waves of gratitude, and new images filled his mind. Ocapo's people, the Bondfriends, alone, too few to defend themselves against the Barin, but doomed to be apart from the Kanaan. Until the Ydrel taught Tasmae how they c
ould help.

Tasmae coming into his village, speaking to his chiefs. As she outlines her plans for the Bondfriends, the excitement grows, and others gather around the fire. A few, like Ocapo, are chosen to join the Kanaan in the fight against the invaders; in return, the Kanaan armies would defend the tribes. Trust grows between the tw
o peoples.

Ydrel, you saved my people. You've returned us to our brothers.
Ocapo squ
eezed him.

Deryl looked over Ocapo's shoulder
at Joshua.

Joshua grinned. “Nice to know someone appreciates
you, huh?”

Deryl found himself grinning back; still, the credit went to Tasmae, not him, and he told Ocapo so. Ocapo released him with an unembarra
ssed grin.

“Each Miscria learns something different from the Ydrel,” the Bondfriend said aloud for Joshua's benefit. “But if it had not been for you, Tasmae would not have thought to co
me to us.”

“Okay.” Deryl shrugged. He didn't know what else to say. He desperately wanted a few minutes alone with his own thoughts to get his bearings, but didn't think that would happen anytime soon. At least for the moment, he was with someone friendly to him, friendly and non-th
reatening.

Joshua moved over to the wall and looked out. He whistled. “That is some view. Ocapo, is that an actual, like active, volcano?” He pointed to a mountain that had a red
dish glow.

Ocapo followed his gaze and nodded. “There are many in this area. This mountai
n is one.”

“What?” Both humans shouted
together.

Ocapo laughed. “Tasmae has taken care of it. Its fires lie dormant, waiting for her command. We have more earthquakes now, but she takes care
of those.”

Joshua turned to face them, leaning on one elbow on the low wall. “Okay. Someone needs to expl
ain this.”

Deryl said, “That's the primary talent of the Miscrias. They control
weather.”

“Weather,” Joshua repeated. “Like
earthquakes
and
v
olcanoes
?”

“Rain, too,” Ocapo said. “When the Barins come, she will shroud the Maz
e in fog.”

“How?” Joshua started, then shook his head. “Never mind. I don't think you could explain it. But for the whole planet? I can't even imagine how much power that wo
uld take.”

“What happened to ‘faith the size of a mustard seed?'” Deryl quipped, but a horrible idea struck him.
Ocapo
, he teleped,
how do the Miscrias die? Do they ever give all their life energy
to Kanaan?

Ocapo responded with a psychic shrug. He only knew children's stories about Kanaan's
Caretaker.

Joshua had taken his barb seriously. “Do you think it could be that easy? Hey!” He laughed as a green everyn with yellow streaks on its cheek crests landed on his shoulder. “There you are. Deryl, meet
Cochise.”

“Cochise, eh?” Deryl reached out to touch the creature, and tried to hide his surprise that it was settling itself comfortably on h
is friend.

“Yeah, he likes me. Probably because I gave him a cool name. Tasmae named Ocapo'
s ‘Spot.'”

“SPOT?” Deryl asked, turning to the mottled dragon now perched
on Ocapo.

“MM-hmm,” Joshua said, scratching Cochise under the chin. “So Cochise is named for a warrior, while poor Spot
is named—“

“SPOT:
Satellite Probatoire d'Observation de la Terre
,” Deryl whispered. This was Tasmae's solution to his s
uggestion?

Joshua dropped his hand. “She named him after a French
s
atellite
?”

“Better than a lame dog's name like you were thinking. I must have told Tasmae about aerial observation…” He closed his eyes, remembering. He'd been reading about the history of air power. The Miscria hadn't asked him about it specifically, but so much modern warfare strategy depended on commanding the skies, and that had gotten him interested in satellites. But that was last Spring, and Ocapo said she had come to his people two
years ago.

“We taught her, as well,” Ocapo said. “The Barins do not understand about the Greater Beasts, so they consider the everyn and the…wolves?...mere animals. That means, they can wander around the battlefields or even the compounds, part of the scenery,
and spy.”

“That's brilliant,” D
eryl said.

“It has saved our tribes more than once. Sometimes, a group or commander will ‘adopt' a Bondfriend as it
s mascot.”

“So they think they've got a pet, when in fact, they've got a spy.” Joshua
snickered.

“Or a chaperone,” Deryl said, with a pointed look a
t Cochise.

“Know what? If it makes people more comfortable, I'm cool with it.” Joshua scratched the little dragon lizard behind the cheek crests. It turned its head into the caress an
d trilled.

Ocapo smiled, and Deryl felt relief emanate from him. “I am pleased to hear that, friend Joshua! So, my work is complete for now. I hope we shall meet again.” He bowed
and left.

Joshua watched him until the door folded shut behind him. “Okay, then! Speaking of purpose, you and Tasmae figure out why we
're here?”

Deryl sighed as he joined him by the low wall. The maze Ocapo spoke of stretched to the horizon—forests, some glimmering, some a deep and lush green, flowery meadows, and a tangle of deep valleys. To the right, a mountain range, including Joshua's volcano, created a jagged line against the sky. How long had it been since he'd seen a view that didn't end in manicured trees “hiding” A stone wall and the threat of restraints should he try to scale it? Would anyone stop him if he took off across the com
pound now?

“I don't know. I'm not even sure we talked
about it.”

“What does t
hat mean?”

He could run through the gate and out to the meadow. How far would he get? He couldn't remember what it felt like to run in something other than a circle. “I don't know. Leinad thinks the answers might be in the Rem
embrance.”

Ru
n and run.

“Wha
t's that?”

Deryl pulled himself from his fantasy. He shifted to face Joshua, wondering how far he could push his friend's credulity. “It's a plant, that, um, psychically stores
memories.”

As expected, Joshua crossed his arms and leaned back. Cochise gave a disgruntled chirrup and left his shoulders to perch on the wall. “You're kidding? So, what? She has to go ask this plant about its
memories?”

“Actually, it stores the memories of another Kanaan. She'll psychically link with the plant and re-experience those memories.” The answer came smoothly, though he hadn't realized he'd known it. It must have been in the tangle Tasmae had given him when they'd touched. What had she taken from him, then? He suppressed
a shiver.

Joshua gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “And the memories of some dead guy are going to hel
p us how?”

“I do
n't know.”

“Okay,” Joshua rubbed his temples before speaking again. “She's obviously not going to relive someone's whole life. How long will t
his take?”

“I don't know!” However, more of the images were coming together, and his anxiety grew as
they did.

“Well, what do you know?” Joshu
a snapped.

“She's scared!” Deryl snapped back. “Remembrances can be dangerous—and this one is the worst of all. And it's all
my fault!”

“What?”

Deryl buried his head in his hands, grabbing his hair and pulling as the last thread of knowledge revealed itself to him. “Gardianju was the first Miscria. The first to contact me. And I drove he
r insane.”

Joshua gripped his shoulders. “Are you sure?”
He hissed.

“I don't know,” Deryl moaned. “This is Tasmae's knowledge—what she shared with me—and I don't think she's thought about it
this way.”

“Which is my point about experiencing someone's memories, anyway! Listen: if you're not sure, then calm down before you freak someone out. Don't make assumptions, especially ones that will get us into more trouble. Let's just figure out what will satisfy them as to our ‘purpose,' so we can get out of here. Okay? Deryl, lo
ok at me.”

At Joshua's strong voice, Deryl let out a shaky sigh and met his friend's gaze. Joshua held it, his own breathing slow and relaxed, and emanating a confidence Deryl knew he didn't feel. Still, Deryl bega
n to calm.

Joshua released him. “Better. So, you've been teaching Taz strategy, right? What if she's just totally missing something important? Something that could help them win the war? If you figure that out and set them straight, that could fulfill your purpos
e, right?”

Deryl shrugged. It made sense. “But what a
bout you?”

Joshua rolled his eyes. “Who else is going to keep you on track? Shall we try?” Josh held out
his hand.

Deryl shook it. Joshua was right—especially about his needing his friend to keep him focused. “So, I should go find Salgoud, offer my services? Want
to come?”

Joshua grimaced. “I can't think of anything I'd rather do less, actually. Unless you need me, of course, but I'd be a fifth wheel. Is there a salle aro
und here?”