Sage Truth [Book 2 of the Teadai Prophecies] Page 3

  Adelsik fumed. She had worked hard to rise above that status. “I’m new-oathed,” she protested through her teeth. Before she could draw another breath, a sparking blanket surrounded her again, sending fire to her skin. Just when she thought she could take no more, the fire stopped.

  Once released, she sucked in quick breaths to try and calm her racing heart. Tears streamed down her face. What had she fallen into? This woman must be the one who attacked Haranda and Thad. Adelsik hadn’t seen Haranda’s wounds but they must’ve been extensive for the Vedi to get involved. Why was she so foolish as to slumber after Ved’nuri’s meeting? She could be in her body sleeping right now.

  The stranger wiped Adelsik’s wet cheeks and cupped her chin. “You’ll wear the youngling dress.” Her voice now held the tenderness of a Gypsy mother.

  Adelsik sniffed and nodded. She had no intention of feeling another sparking blanket, imagined or not.

  The woman seemed satisfied with her obedience. “Good girl. Now, change the water to sand.”

  Her eyes wandered over the vast ocean. “It’s too big. I haven’t done anything that large. Not alone. I’m still learning.” She’d never changed a memory image that vast without Wren or Siri’s assistance. And she didn’t think this woman would help her, especially since she’d received no assistance last night. She also remembered trying to push through the woman’s Netherworld creations without success.

  “Are you refusing?” A definite threat colored those blue eyes and thumbs hooked into the belt again.

  “No. I’ll try.” She concentrated and imagined the water as sandy as the beach. She managed to change about half of the ocean before it flooded back into water and waves.

  “Again.”

  Adelsik concentrated again but got the same results. A blue spark struck her leg and she yelped.

  “Again.”

  Concentrating on the image instead of the pain, she got a little farther with the sand but the waves pushed back. Another spark. Another yelp. This wasn’t how a Gypsy should be taught, not even a youngling. She got farther this time, seeing water only near the horizon, but that didn’t last.

  Several blue sparks struck her while she stood, unable to get away. Anger swelled and quickly overcame the tears and fear. “Stop!” Once she was free, she stepped back from the woman.

  “Again.” A freckled arm pointed to the water.

  Adelsik pushed her frustration and anger into her thoughts and the water turned to sand. The beach looked very much like a desert. She waited for the waves to push back but they didn’t and the image remained.

  “Very good, youngling. I see it takes getting your full attention before you learn. Your clan mother must have had a time with you.”

  She bristled. “You leave my former clan out of this.” The blue eyes hardened and Adelsik knew she had made a mistake.

  “Don’t anger me, girl. I have much to teach you, but you’ll be respectful if I have to beat it into your otherself.” She cupped Adelsik’s chin in her fingers and she smiled. “Do I really need to put you in a sparking blanket again?”

  Adelsik shook her head and chewed on her bottom lip, thinking of some way to learn more about the woman in front of her.

  “Yes, youngling? What is it? I welcome questions from those under my tutelage.”

  So, the idiot woman was demented enough to think Adelsik was her student. She wanted to snort but dampened that feeling. “I need to call you something.” She kept her voice as benign as possible. The woman wanted reverence, so perhaps Adelsik could learn more by feigning respect. “I can’t just call you stranger or woman. That would be disrespectful.” I could call you errant but that might cause me more pain.

  When the stranger crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, panic jolted through Adelsik. But the eyes softened. “I’m pleased to see you’re willing to cooperate but don’t think me stupid, youngling. I’ll give you a name to call me. You won’t remember it in the waking world, of course. Nor will you know whether it’s my true name.”

  At least Adelsik wasn’t engulfed in pain just now. She nodded. “I understand.”

  “Good. You may call me Mother Atan.”

  Her heart rapped against her ribs and the woman smiled at her realization. How could she call the stranger that? If Atan was a rogue Gypsy, an errant, which she had to be to harness the Energy, then the mother title was certain to bond them. But I’m no longer a youngling. Bonding wouldn’t work on a new-oathed Gypsy. Or would it? Adelsik had already taken her oaths to the Goddess. Surely, the Great Mother would give her the strength to resist.

  “Repeat my name, youngling.” The woman’s voice was dangerous.

  She swallowed and grimaced. “Yes, Mother Atan.” Goddess, help me.

  “Very good. Now. Focus on the sand and change it back to the sea.” One hand smoothed Adelsik’s hair. “Go ahead. If you’re successful on the first attempt, which I know you have the talent for, you’ll avoid another session with my sparking Energy.”

  Her tone implied that the absence of punishment was somehow a reward, and Adelsik studied her. No Gypsy would treat a student this way, not even a youngling. She turned toward the vast stretch of sand, took in a breath and pushed all her emotions into the task in an honest attempt to avoid more pain. The sand flickered a heartbeat then waves came crashing onto the beach and up to her ankles. She snapped her head to the woman.

  “Well done. You did more than I expected.” Atan’s eyes drifted to the water at her feet. “Now put the beach back the way it was.”

  This time Adelsik seemed to have more control and thought the waves in their original place on the sand. Sounds and smells all appeared real, the way she remembered, and she fought the urge to smile at her accomplishment. Weakness crept into her otherself.

  The woman took a couple of steps toward the water and turned back. “Enough for this lesson, youngling. Come. Let me take this memory from you. I’ll return it to you when we meet here again but I don’t want anyone following. Do you understand?”

  Adelsik nodded and mentally told herself that she would remember. This woman couldn’t have that much power over her.

  “Don’t make me come to you.”

  “Yes, Mother Atan.” She took quick steps and allowed the woman to take her face, however much that irked her.

  “You’ll go to your body and you will sleep, Adelsik Nunsey. When you wake, you won’t remember me or the lessons I taught.” Atan pressed her right palm against Adelsik’s forehead.

  A sharp pain formed behind her eyes as the Energy flooded out. She started to shriek but found herself in a pleasant dream, floating in a small boat on a quiet lake.

  * * * *

  The next morning, she lay for a long while in her blankets, tired and not wanting to move.

  Wren seemed concerned. “Are you ill?” The white-haired Gypsy crouched to feel Adelsik’s forehead.

  Gypsies couldn’t get illnesses but they used that term when they thought something was wrong. Pain and suffering could find them as it found anyone. “No, Wren. I’m tired, that’s all. We had a meeting last night.”

  “Yes. You remember everything, don’t you?”

  She nodded. “About the Tandiar River.” The bodies, the heads on stakes. “Cholqhuin and the seven signs.”

  “Good. We need to tell the others at morning meal.”

  Adelsik pulled from her blankets and stretched the soreness from her muscles. The ground was hard and seemed to press into her body, leaving tenderness, especially to her thighs. Her head ached. She remembered slumbering after the discussion with the others in the Netherworld but she hadn’t slumbered long. And for some reason she thought there had been a dream she couldn’t recall, something not so pleasant as the one on the lake.

  But it was rare for her not to remember, always had been, and she pushed those thoughts from her mind to concentrate on the tasks of the mundane world, which didn’t take much effort with the oppressing heat that never seemed to dissipate.

  Chapt
er 3

  Salt air mixed with fish smells, some fresh and others that made Taniras crinkle her nose and wish for a bathhouse. She averted her eyes at the sight of fish guts along the docks as they passed. She’d seen worse in her healer apprenticeship but these guts had rotted and the stench made her nauseous. The others glanced around too, as they rode down the streets of Bankar.

  Taniras’s clan mother, Haranda Banwidden, led this quest. She still had trouble believing the Gypsy had been alive for over one hundred years. Haranda looked to be in her middle to late twenties, not that much older than Taniras. The Gypsy had been edgy ever since they left the Land of the Goddess too. So Taniras, who for some Goddess-forsaken reason was still at youngling status, tried to keep her distance. She felt uneasy on her stallion. Maricari didn’t usually ride horses. Her legs ached from the strain of keeping her sore backside in the saddle and she longed for this trip to end.

  The streets of this sea city were wide, probably to accommodate wagonloads of wood the Bankari used to build their boats and ships. Each quest had learned as much as they could about where they would travel, and Taniras felt lucky to have such an affinity for memorization. Bankari traded fish with Hunters and occasionally took Hunters across the sea in return for wood and meat from their forest. Both had enjoyed generations of trade. Taniras wondered what her life would’ve been like had she joined the Hunters the way she’d planned instead of stumbling into the Land of the Goddess.

  No use wishing for what cannot be. Her lips turned up in a wry grin. How many times had Haranda said that very thing to her? She’d lost count.

  Many shops lined the main road. They passed the cobbler and the tailor. An old beggar man with a cane held out his hat for coins as he stood near the dyer’s establishment. He watched with interest as Taniras and her kin passed. Then he smiled. Most of his teeth were missing, which gave him a humorous look, yet something about him made her feel uneasy. She fought the urge to take in the Energy. Haranda would know. She always knew. And the Gypsy would reprimand Taniras like some wayward child.

  The uneasy feeling passed as they left the old man behind, and she drew her attention to the other sights. Several dogs fought over scraps in the street. A tinker called out various tunes advertising his wares and services, and sounds from the smithy shop rang through the air. Several cats slinked along the rooftops and gazed lazily down at the people in the streets.

  In the village circle, children laughed as they took turns soaking an unfortunate man in the dunking chair. Taniras wondered what transgression he had committed. Nearby, two bronze statues towered over the children, one of a man holding a large fish, the other a woman with a net draped over her shoulder. Both looked quite imposing.

  Docks surrounded this city, and muffled noises reached her ears from the numerous water vessels. A stone tower stood past the end of the large pier, surrounded by huge black boulders, a light for warning ships. No doubt, it would have a huge flame come nightfall.

  She’d never been in a sea city before today but tales had always intrigued her. Vessels that traveled the open seas, towers with burning fires atop to signal ships at night, and beautiful views of the sun as it crept up or down at the water’s end, depending on which direction the sea lay, captured her imagination. In fact, she’d never ventured beyond Maricar until that day she, Snowy and the others set out for the Hunter’s Forest and were drawn into the Land of the Goddess by Taniras’s calling.

  If kin quests hadn’t been so important to the Gypsies, and the world for that matter, Taniras would have bolted until she reached new-oathed status. Many younglings had been promoted before they left home, including Saldia and Thad. The shade walker was in this quest and Taniras eyed her. Saldia had trained with the Vedi and had become strong in her Energy, something else that fueled Taniras’s frustration. The fact that the Vedi had told them to drop Gypsy titles outside the Land of the Goddess didn’t soothe her mood much. At twenty-one, she was still a youngling, the oldest now, and that pricked at her like a knife in her gut.

  Not even her last birth celebration prompted the end of her youngling stage. She had spent eight moons in classes in the Land of the Goddess, just as long as Saldia. The shade walker was older by only three and a half years. Taniras had trained as a healer in Maricar. That should have given her an advantage over the former tavern woman. She no longer wondered why the Vedi hadn’t chosen her for training at the dome. Why would they want an animal urger? She was no use to them. Saldia could walk in the shade, stay invisible with her shadow Energy, something practical and invaluable should they encounter enemies.

  With effort, she pushed away envy and disappointment. At least she had boots on her feet again. She never got used to the feel of dirt between her toes while in the Land of the Goddess. Another advantage was that she didn’t have to wear those awful Gypsy dresses now. All those bloody swirls still made her dizzy.

  Eletha had to be just as annoyed at her youngling status. She was almost nineteen now. But she seemed to enjoy wearing breeches again. The little treewalker had a temper as flaming as her hair and curses seemed to leave her lips from sunup to sundown. That amused Taniras. However, Predula wasn’t amused and had taken a personal interest in keeping Eletha’s mouth clean. The short body-healer even used soap once or twice. That, of course, never worked long, and seemed to amuse Eletha more than upset her.

  Younglings were treated as adults wherever middlings were present, but Haranda had punished Taniras just last night while they camped at Beggar’s Ridge. She had harnessed the Energy without permission, urged several raucous birds from the trees, something the others should have praised her for. Her hands still felt raw from washing dishes and underclothes. Bloody Gypsy rules! Taniras was expected to wait for permission unless she or the others were in immediate danger. Son of a goat! She was a grown woman, not some silly child.

  The only times she’d been successful harnessing the Energy without permission was late at night. Evidently, Gypsies couldn’t sense what she was doing while they slept. Once she figured this out, she had practiced with the Energy on many occasions. She still had no inkling how the others knew when she harnessed the Energy. And it was nowhere the strength out here among middlings, which meant it took more effort for simple Energy tasks. Taniras knew her limitations. She wouldn’t jeopardize herself by taking in too much or holding it too long. She couldn’t possibly be a danger to anyone now, not after all she had learned in youngling classes. And if she were a danger, then why in the name of the Goddess was she assigned to a kin quest?

  One thing was certain, Haranda no longer punished Saldia. She had called the new-oathed Gypsy down a few times, but Saldia hadn’t done laundry since she took her oaths. If she washed dishes, it was by choice. And that endearment, my little shadow, grated on Taniras’s nerves. What she wouldn’t give to be new-oathed.

  What Energy she did possess annoyed her more with each passing sunrise. Her urging was still confined to animals, a reality that she desperately wanted to alter. Urging horses past a snake wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind for her Gypsy duties, but at least she was away from those bloody barns. And urging didn’t work on the snake, of course. The creature’s mind was just too tiny and undeveloped. Birds, dogs, goats and horses all responded without hesitation. Now if she could just use her urging on people, the way Haranda could. Her sparking Energy was weak and she had no other powers. This certainly wasn’t what she had planned for her future.

  She shifted her weight again and grunted at the soreness in her backside and thighs, wishing she could draw on the Energy to put the pain at a distance. Maricari were foot hunters, healers, gardeners and such, not bloody horsemen. Snowy had a difficult time but never complained, and Taniras was determined to give as good a performance. If only to get the man’s attention that she was a woman and not some child to be ignored.

  She watched Haranda’s hair bounce and thought of making the woman’s horse trot, just to give her a sore backside, but another night of scrubbing pots a
nd clothes didn’t appeal to her. So, she buried her anger and concentrated on riding as one hand waved several flies away. Bloody insects didn’t respond to urging, either. They were just too stupid.

  “Keep up, girl.” Haranda had turned in her saddle and held dark eyes on Taniras. The Gypsies and servants no longer used their titles. That wasn’t safe among these cities, among middlings. Many still feared Gypsies and many more hated them.

  “Yes, Cousin Haranda.”

  They traveled as a family now. Predula, who ranked as first council on the quest, posed as Haranda’s sister. With different mothers, if anyone questioned their dissimilar appearances. The rest claimed to be cousins, and all looked nearly the same age. In fact, the only ones who had any visible age at all were the servants. Especially the cook, Paliestia, with her gray bun against weathered skin.

  The group gave the impression of having a little money, enough to afford a cook and hunters, and it wasn’t unusual for traveling women to have guards in their entourage. In fact, had they been unguarded, that might have drawn more attention. The wrong kind, no doubt.

  Despite her discomfort and annoyance at this city, Taniras looked forward to sleeping in a proper bed again. This trip hadn’t turned out as she had thought. Gypsies had money, plenty, and she had dreamed about lavish travel, sleeping in a castle or two, not camped on wet grass and riding bloody horses down a filthy street. She longed for comfort and recognition of her healer skills. Maricari healers lived with many luxuries, though not anything like highborn people, but the villagers provided feather bedding, fresh water and plenty of food. And they never wanted for friendship. Maricari families invited healers to dine with them several times each moon cycle.

  The Bankari seemed to keep to themselves with only glances at strangers. All but the children. The little ones stopped in their play and gawked at the entourage. Some ran along behind, until a nearby adult shooed them back to their own business.