Quest (19 page)

‘The flying wagon of the God!’ exclaimed Katia. ‘How large it is!’

‘And damaged by fires hot beyond our imaginings. Look at the scorch marks. And look at the way the metal is twisted.’

‘Is he - can he still be alive in that?’

‘Yes, but let’s try to get to him as quickly as possible. He’s hurt.’

When they stood next to the flying wagon, dwarfed by its battered metal walls, they could see what looked like a door, but it was high up in the blackened metal.

‘I think I must
lift
myself into the air to inspect that,’ said Herra reluctantly.

‘Save your strength, Elder Sister. I can climb up there quite easily.’ Katia took off the long robe she had worn kilted up in the wildwoods and stood in her shorter undershift, squinting up at the battered metal. She took a long thin rope from their survival kit. Testing its strength, she nodded in satisfaction, then twisted it into a loop. With casual expertise, she cast this up towards a projecting piece of broken metal. She missed the first time, for it was long since she’d used this skill, but she caught it easily on the third throw and pulled it tight. After that, it was the work of only a minute to climb up.

But there was no handle on the door, and Katia swung to and fro next to it in the bitterest disappointment. Even if there had been an obvious way to open it, she wouldn’t have been able to, for one side of the door was badly buckled. Just as she was about to slide down again to confer with Herra, she caught sight of what looked like a crack in the metal a little higher up. She pulled the trailing end of rope up after her and managed to loop it over another
QUEST Shannah Jay 69

metal projection higher up. With less hope than before, she dragged herself up to inspect the crack.

‘There’s a square piece here,’ she called down to Herra. ‘It fits in tightly, like a small door. I’m sure it’s meant to open.’ But however she worked on it, she couldn’t open it.

Finally she lost her temper and banged on it with her fist. ‘We can’t wait any longer! He
needs
us. Open up! You’ve got to open!’ The metal stirred beneath her fingers like a live thing. ‘Ah!’ She began to focus all her energy on it. ‘
Open! O-pen! O-pen!
’ She was unaware that she was chanting the words loudly as she continued to beat the metal with her clenched fist.

Herra, watching anxiously from below, didn’t dare to speak. Under stress, another of Katia’s Gifts was ripening swiftly. It might be dangerous to stop her in the middle of an incantation, however primitive the method she was using to support her actions and move the metal. Biting her lip, Herra watched, prepared to intervene if Katia were in danger.

‘
O-pen! O-pen! O-pen!
’

A breath of wind whirled up the charred leaves around Herra’s feet. Oh, child, she thought, take care! Your wind is blowing, and you’re scarcely ready for it yet.

Above her the hatch yawned slowly inwards, and Katia tumbled through it, her strength momentarily drained by the effort she had made.

She will be the greatest of us all, thought Herra. To do that, untutored! Even I couldn’t have managed it at her age.

She waited below for some sign from Katia, but none came. After a while she could bear it no longer. Gathering her forces, she laid the emergency kit on the ground and used her own Gifts to twitch another rope up over the first projection. She began to climb it slowly and carefully.

At the top she rested, casting her senses around the flying wagon to check that Those of the Serpent were not close, then nodded in relief and entered the wagon. Inside the hole she found no sign of Katia, but there was a second hatchway leading down into a curved metal passage. Presumably Katia had gone that way. Herra prepared to follow her.

#####

When the door in the side of the strange metal wagon opened, Katia tumbled into the hole behind it, too surprised to control her body properly. She lay for a moment near the edge of the hatchway, still panting from her exertions, then lifted her head like a dog questing for a scent. She could sense their Brother.

Lowering herself into the passage behind the main door, she crept forward, her heart pounding with excitement. As she turned a corner, she came upon the little room which they’d seen on the farspeaker image. Now there were no lights winking on the walls and her Brother lay motionless on a long chair.

She moved swiftly to his side and felt for his pulse. Ah, good! He’d slowed down his body processes, though it would have been better to have gone still slower. At her touch, the pulse began to speed up again. She watched consciousness return to his face as his breathing quickened. His eyes flickered open.

'Katia!' he said in a tone of wonder. 'It real y is Katia.' He reached out to touch her cheek.

When she saw Davred lying there as vulnerable as a child, Katia forgot he was the Manifestation of their God, for she sensed a deep pain, not only in his body, but also in his mind. His own people had hurt him. She forgot her state of undress, forgot about herself entirely, and took his cold hand in her warm one. Carrying it to her cheek, she cradled it
QUEST Shannah Jay 70

there for a moment, then reached out to touch his face. 'Oh, my dear Brother, how they have hurt you.'

Herra paused in the doorway, then retreated silently to the outside entrance. This bonding between Katia and the Manifestation of their God must take place without any interference from her. She’d made the prophecy herself, not realising it was Katia who would become the God's mate. How quickly events were sweeping them along! If only she could see more clearly the path they must tread. But it was hidden in a shifting mist and the God only occasionally granted her glimpses of the way ahead.

Inside the cabin, Davred reached out his other hand and stroked Katia's cheek with one fingertip. 'How soft your skin is!' He had enjoyed healthy relationships with several women, but not one of them had filled him with this aching desire to hold her in his arms and just stay close. Not one of the wel -educated women he had known had possessed a cloud of soft hair that made you long to bury your face in its perfumed depths.

Katia gathered him in her arms, knowing instinctively that he needed cherishing. She wondered a little at her presumption, but she that he needed the comfort she could give him, also that this was right.

They pulled apart and stared at each other shyly. Before they could blunt their feelings with words, Herra made her presence felt in the passageway, walking with a noisy step foreign to her nature and even, solemn and important though this moment was, with a slight smile curving the corners of her mouth. Those who could not remember their first loves were sad souls.

'Thank you for the comfort you gave me, Little Sister,' said Davred formally as Katia stood up.

Herra could see the bond between them as if it were a ribbon of light. Katia had a look of innocent wonder glowing on her face and their Brother an expression of puzzled tenderness.

Davred turned to Herra. 'We meet at last, Elder Sister.' He stretched out a hand to clasp hers and as she touched it, she could feel the fever throbbing in his body.

'You're hurt, Brother.'

He tried to move and winced. 'My leg's broken, I think. As is this ship.' He gestured at the damaged control panels.

Herra ignored the inert metal and knelt to examine her Brother's injured leg. First he had to show her how to open the strange fastenings on his garments. She blocked out most of his pain so she could concentrate. The leg was indeed broken, and the skin was badly bruised, but it was a clean break and the bone had not pierced the flesh.

'I haven't used my skill as a Healer on broken bones in many years, Illustrious Brother, but if you will permit me, I can pull the bones together so that healing may begin.'

'Can you? That's a start, anyway, but it'll be weeks before I can walk on it.' He moved fretfully in his chair. 'And Herra, you of all people know that I am no God. I'm a mere man, and one who has failed in his task. I came down to try to help you, not to be a burden to you.'

'
You are the Manifestation of our God, come down in our time of greatest need, and you will be of great help to us
,' Herra said in her special voice. '
Though the task will take the whole of your life
.' She blinked and went on in a more normal tone, 'If you are not prepared to pay such a heavy price, there is yet time to call your friends and ask them to rescue you.'

'I'l stay gladly. I feel quite sure that my destiny lies on Sunrise. But how can you speak so surely?'

Herra closed her eyes and shivered slightly. 'It's one of my Gifts, Lord Davred. Foreknowledge. A very painful Gift, sometimes. One pays a price for everything, does one not?' She sat breathing slowly and deeply for a few moments.

Katia knew better than to interrupt her after a Speaking, and Davred correctly interpreted the younger Sister's gesture to keep silent. He lay back, lost in his own thoughts, relieved that the pain had eased.

Herra's breathing changed.

'She's now preparing to start the healing, Lord Davred,' Katia whispered. 'She was a Healer before she became the Elder Sister, one of our greatest Healers, people say. Let me help you to lie more comfortably. Does this - this chair thing move?'

'It's fastened to the floor, but it will lie flatter than this - if the mechanism isn't broken. Ah, that's it.' With a whirring
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sound, the couch straightened itself. Katia watched curiously, but showed no sign of fear. It's we who are primitive, Davred thought. The control they have over their own bodies and emotions puts our so-called medical knowledge to shame.

Herra sank to her knees beside the couch and Katia helped Davred to straighten out as much as possible, wincing in sympathy at the pain his leg gave him. She could sometimes feel the pain of others. That was another of her Gifts.

'What must I do, Katia?'

'Why, nothing, Lord Davred. It's for the Elder Sister to do the healing.'

As Herra opened her eyes again and turned to Davred, Katia wondered whether she should leave the room.

As if she read her youngest Sister's mind, Herra spoke, 'No, Katia. Stay with me, to enhance my powers. Lord Davred, give me your hand. Yes, that's right. Hold me tightly. Feel my fingers. Feel my strength. Yes, that's it. Now, try to think of your leg as whole. Yes. That's right.
Concentrate all your thoughts upon it
. Your leg –
whole and healthy, healthy and
whole
. No pain. No pain . . . no . . . pain . . . at . . . all.' Her free hand began to stroke his leg and he showed no signs of pain as it passed lightly over the bruised flesh. He gave a long sigh and closed his eyes, his breathing becoming very slow and deep.

'
No pain. No pain
,' Herra chanted, like a litany. Then her chant gradually changed to '
Healthy and whole
,' and Davred's breathing began to speed up again.

After a while his eyes flickered open.

'There, Lord Davred, how does that feel?' Herra let go of his hand and smiled, the gentle, satisfied smile of a Healer who has been successful.

Davred stared at his leg as if it were an alien thing. The swelling had gone down, the bruising had turned to a faint yellow and the pain had subsided to a mere ache. 'How did you do that?'

Herra rose to her feet with the grace that was peculiarly her own. 'I am a Healer. I exercised my Gift, as I was taught, that's all. And you, Lord Davred, are a very responsive patient. That's because you share some of our Gifts. I shall be honoured to help you discover and develop them.'

'I thought men didn't share our Gifts,' Katia exclaimed before she could stop herself.

'Many men do not. They've given themselves too much to conflict and violence. But Lord Davred wil be one of the Fathers of the next Stage, as will the infant son of Danver, about whom I shall tell you one day. And there are other men like them, too, scattered about our world. The gifted ones increase in number, in spite of Discord. Though few are as rich in Gifts as you two, yet the others will be vital to our Quest.'

Davred looked puzzled.

Herra tried to explain. 'The Gifts are inherited, from parent to child. We not only keep track of the families endowed with such Gifts, we try to encourage them to bear children. We call them our Gifted Lines. Upon their descendants rests the success of the next stage.'

'What is the next stage, Herra?' It was one of the most important questions he had ever asked in his whole life.

'The next stage, Lord Davred, is the banishment of Discord from this world for ever. For that, we must learn to know ourselves and to develop our powers. It'll be a hard struggle. Your earlier Manifestations helped set our feet upon the Path of Wisdom. You shall help us to take further steps towards our goal.'

Davred stared at her. At times she treated him as the Manifestation of the God to whom she had devoted her life, at others as a lesser being who was the Manifestation of that God, and at others still, as Davred Hol unby, representative of the Galactic Confederation. 'I find all this rather confusing,' he admitted.

'We all do, Lord Davred, we all do. It's never easy to follow the Path of Wisdom. It's taken the Sisterhood a very long time to walk a short way along it. I think your people lost a great deal when they became so reliant upon machines.'

She gestured around her. 'If things like this do everything for you, why should you bother to find your own Gifts, let alone work hard to develop them? But I speak too much. Even now, Benner's men are searching for your wagon. No -

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you call it a ship, do you not?'

'A lifeship.'

'Lifeship,' she repeated, enjoying the strangeness of the word. 'We must be gone before they arrive. You won't be able to walk very far on that leg today, but perhaps our Katia can find another cave for us, where we may lie hidden for a few days. What do you need to take with you?'

But Davred hadn't heard her last question. 'Walk? You mean my leg is healed enough to walk on already?' he whispered, staring down at it as if it did not belong to him.