A Broken Paradise (The Windows of Heaven Book 3) (40 page)

“None—if you’re here with your new friends to festival. Otherwise, you’re taking up our space!”

Farsa stood and gave Tiva a quick hug. “It’s okay, Tiva. You want to catch Tsuli up on the trail anyway—where you can talk to her alone. I’m glad you came to visit, though. It means a lot to me. I’ll see ya around.”

Tiva couldn’t believe it when she saw Sariya physically pull Farsa away toward the stream. What was even more unreal was that Farsa let her.

She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. Tiva turned and saw T’Qinna’s sad eyes. U’Sumi released the hilt of the short sword he had hidden under his cloak.

“Are you okay?” asked her sister-in-law’s musical accent.

Tiva nodded. “Farsa’s right. Let’s catch Tsuli up on the trail, so I can find out what’s happened here and put it to rest.”

They intercepted Tiva’s childhood friend just as they approached the gate to Q’Enukki’s Retreat.

Unlike Farsa, Tsulia was well-groomed, dressed in a racy blue serpent wrap that barely covered the essentials. Her eyes lit up at Tiva’s approach, as she spread her arms in a worldwide hug.

“Tiva-bell! How are you? What have you been doing with yourself?”

Tiva turned to U’Sumi and T’Qinna. “I want a few minutes alone with her, if that’s alright.”

U’Sumi shrugged. “Sure. We just came along for support.”

T’Qinna squeezed Tiva’s shoulder,
and then brushed past with her husband, into the monastery gate.

“Hi
, Tsuli.” Tiva allowed her old friend’s embrace to swallow her. “I’ve missed you.”

Tsulia nudged Tiva out to arms
’ length and looked her over. “We shouldn’t be such strangers—I mean we only live a short walk from each other! I know what happened the night you left was really bad—Moon’s felt awful about it for years. Oh—we’re finally getting married!”

Tiva didn’t know which of Tsuli’s announcements to respond to. She finally settled on saying, “Congratulations,” after an awkward pause.

“I’ve wanted to talk to you for a long time—really!” Tsuli said. “You’ll never guess what I do for a living these days… I can’t tell the others—not even Moon—but you’d understand.” She glanced around at the trees as if to make sure they wouldn’t overhear. “You’ve got to promise not to tell anybody though!”

“Who would I tell?” Tiva had figured that after seeing Farsa, talking to Tsuli again would be easy.

She was wrong.

Tsuli seemed confused by the question. “Just promise!”

“Okay, I promise. I won’t tell.”

A huge grin wrapped itself around Tsulia’s face. “I’m a spy for the Archon’s Intelligence Directorate!”

“A spy?”

“Absolutely go to
—with a secret contact and everything!”

Tiva could actually feel the surreality
sucking her into itself on a physical level, deep in the pit of her stomach. “Does it pay well?”

Tsuli flashed a hand full of sapphire rings.
“You would not believe!”

“Who do you spy on?”

“Oh! That’s the secret. Moon and the others—especially that Varkun—he is such a skunk turd!”

“I thought you loved Moon?”

“Go to, Tiva! It’s for their own vulpin’ good.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“It’s like this: Moon’s really in touch with the Helpers. But there’s Helpers and then there’s Helpers. Varkun is also in touch with them—but the Archon thinks that Moon’s Helpers are good Helpers, while Varkun’s are really just fallen Watchers in disguise.”

“So, where do you fit in?”

Tsulia pondered the question for a moment. “I guess I advise Moon-chaser, and my contact advises me. Let’s face it, Moon’s got a good heart, but he’s in way over his head. I’m just glad the Archon really cares about the younger generations the way he does. But Moon doesn’t trust the archonate all that much—which makes things hard. That’s why I think you and Khumi should come back to the Hollow. You two always had a good influence on him. Between the three of us, I know we could get Moon to see where the Helpers are really leading him.”

Tiva didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “I’m sorry, Tsuli, but I’m never coming back to the Hollow—no offense.”

Tsulia’s face dropped. “Oh. Well, that’s okay. The Directive is watching. They’ll step in if things get outa control. Moon’s expecting me, so I gotto go. It’s great to see you again—really. Say ‘hello’ to me when you bump into me at the marketplace from now on. Remember, don’t tell!”

“I won’t. Bye.”

Tiva watched her old friend bounce off into the greenery, and finally understood the loss that A’Nu-Ahki had felt in his own friendship with the Floodhaven elder. It seemed that the “point of no return” hid in the underbrush along the mundane trail of daily choices about the small things.

furious clanging of the bronze bell that hung outside the fortress-monastery’s gate disturbed the afternoon meditations at Q’Enukki’s Retreat.

Tiva and T’Qinna
remained to tend the Ancient and Lumekki while the others worked down at the shipyard. They both tried to race across the courtyard in time to keep the racket from waking up the “meditating” elders inside the common hall.

Tiva got to the gate first. “What is it?” she called through the great wooden doors.

A voice from the other side said, “We have an official delivery package for a woman by the name of Pyra. The chest has the seal of Mnemosynae of Aztlan upon its hasp and warranted an armed escort.”

Tiva said,
“We have no Pyra here. You have the wrong address!”

Then she saw T’Qinna grow deathly pale, as the side of her face that until recently
had drooped from her hand-cannon wound began to twitch. Her opposing arm and leg began to tremble violently. Tiva caught her as she dropped to the ground, convulsing all up one side of her body.

“There is no mistake!” called the Voice outside the gate. “This chest must be delivered by force of diplomatic treaty with Aztlan.”

Tiva didn’t know what to do. At the mention of “Aztlan,” she instantly understood her sister-in-law’s nervous reaction. She knew that T’Qinna must have once been this “Pyra,” and had changed her name before arriving in Akh’Uzan, or had it changed for her by A’Nu-Ahki.

The men outside began to pound the door.

Tiva cradled T’Qinna’s head in her arms, while her own eyes began to tear up. “Wait!” she called to the men outside, “The bar is heavy…and…I always have trouble lifting it…alone!”

“What is the infernal racket?” demanded the voice of Muhet’Usalaq, who Tiva now heard shuffling up behind her.

T’Qinna stopped convulsing and looked up at her. “Tiivva,” she slurred, “You musth let them in. There’th nothing you can do.”

“No! I won’t let them take you back to…to that!”

The Voice outside the door said, “I’m instructed to reassure Pyra that no action will be taken against her. We just want to deliver the chest. We’ve been told that everything will be explained by its contents.”

Tiva looked up at
Muhet’Usalaq and then back down to T’Qinna, who was rapidly regaining her strength. When T’Qinna nodded that she was ready, Tiva helped her back to her feet.

“Open the door,” commanded Muhet’Usalaq.

After Tiva muscled the bar off—which wasn’t really so heavy—three men entered the keep. The largest carried a wooden box about a cubit long and tall, but slightly less wide, up against his pectorals. The other two were armed with ceremonial spears, and stayed at the gate while the larger man carried the chest into the common hall, where Muhet’Usalaq motioned him left of the mantle. Tiva and T’Qinna followed him in, arm in arm.

He placed the
chest on a stone pedestal by the fireplace, and asked T’Qinna to sign a tiny finger-scroll to show receipt of delivery.

After the men left
, and Tiva re-barred the gate, she rejoined T’Qinna in the common hall. Muhet’Usalaq had disappeared back into the library, apparently disinterested in the contents of the box.

T’Qinna stood before the thing with tears running down her cheeks.

Tiva said, “Aren’t you going to open it?”

“I’m afraid.”

“You’ve never been afraid of anything since the day I met you.”

“You didn’t know me before.”

Tiva touched her shoulder. “So the sandal is on the other foot today. ‘Bout time! It was bound to happen sooner or later with us two.”

“Not like this.”

“We’ll open it together, and face whatever’s inside together.”

T’Qinna nodded and handed Tiva the disk-key the messenger had given her with the box. “Just fit it into the identical indentation on the hasp.”

Tiva inserted the strangely ornamented metal device into its resting place. Gears whirred inside the hasp, until a series of clicks caused the chest to open on three sides. Inside, was a glass and metal object on a polished stone base. On either side of it, in cushioned slots, were a series of crystals, all clear as diamond—except for one, which had a milky pearl-like quality.

Tiva said,
“It looks like the village orb in the Immigrant’s Quarter, only smaller.”

“It is a similar device. But it can’t send images over the spiritual ether—only recall the images and information contained on these crystals, or record any new images I might want to make.” T’Qinna reached for the milky crystal, ignoring the others. “Only this one has images on it—you can tell because of its mother-of-pearl color. The others are blank.”

“What images do you suppose your people have sent you?”

“I’m afraid to find out.”

“What’s the worst it could be?”

T’Qinna turned
to her. “They hid things in my mind—terrible things! It could contain a word or an image designed to pull those things to the surface! It could even change my entire personality!”

Tiva had never seen such fear in anyone’s eyes except her own. “No,” she said. “Because if I see demons coming out at you, I’ll push the device over and smash it!”

T’Qinna shook her head. “You might not see it. It would be a subtle thing—not something that an onlooker could notice without knowing what to look for. Yet, I still have to know! It may be to announce that they are on their way here, now that they’ve found me!”

Tiva looked carefully at the malevolent thing.
If even the strong ones like T’Qinna are so vulnerable, how shall I fare when my demons return—they always do. They always have…
A tiny scroll slip she noticed tucked behind the small orb display broke her thought.

“What’s this?” Tiva said, as she pulled the slip free.

T’Qinna averted her eyes. “Don’t let me read it!”

Tiva laughed. “What! It’s just a little note somebody’s written you. If you want, I’ll read it to you.”

“Does it contain any unusual words?”

Tiva couldn’t understand T’Qinna’s panic and the role-reversal was beginning to wear thin. “It’s written in the Aztlan dialect, so I’m not sure—I don’t use some of these words, but they might be natural enough in Aztlan.”

“Read it to me out loud—slowly—and in your own voice.”

Tiva looked at her sideways. “Well, what other voice would I use?
Go to, T’Qinna, You’re acting spookier than one of the Witchy-girls!”

“I’m sorry, Tiva. I know I must sound insane to you. But you have no idea what these people are capable of!”

“No. You’re wrong! I lived at Grove Hollow! Remember?”

T’Qinna hung her head. “Please don’t be offended. You’re right, of course. If anyone could understand, it would be you. But Tiva, you’ve got to realize that the capabilities for manipulation at the Hollow are primitive compared to what they can do in Aztlan!”

Tiva paused. Grove Hollow was not capable of world conquest. Aztlan had nearly accomplished that and still could. “You’re probably right, as usual! I’ll just read it in my own voice.”

T’Qinna nodded.

Tiva turned the note away, so that her sister-in-law would not accidentally see any of the syllabic ideogram writing. “The note says only this; ‘I’m sorry, Pyra darling. I do not ask forgiveness; that is too much for me to expect. I give you back the lost memories I stole from you. You were right to go with the Seer. You do me proud. With affection, Mnemosynae.’”

T’Qinna broke out into body-wrenching sobs. Tiva dropped the note and held her there for a long time.

When her tears began to subside, T’Qinna took the milky-looking crystal and placed it into an identically-shaped slot in the miniature orb’s base. They both watched as the glassy spheroid lit up, first with an ethereal blue light and then with the face of a late-middle-aged woman.

Tiva had never seen such deep violet eyes,
or a woman who held herself with such poise and command as the one in the orb. Her gray-streaked dark hair flowed around her face, and seemed to mold itself into the wood grain of the box lid behind the odd device.

The Woman, whom Tiva supposed was the Mnemosynae that had written the note, spoke with the same musical accent as T’Qinna. “Pyra darling, I am deeply sorry for the pain I caused you—that I allowed to be caused in you. I offer no excuses, only that I will say a word at the end of this communing that will release any memories I had taken from you, or falsely implanted. I can only say how sorry I am again, since most of them pertain to events that happened around the death of your mother.

“I beg you, learn from these memories, darling, and do not repeat our mistakes. I have only ten—at most—twenty years left to live. It is a disease born in our own Temple—I won’t bore you with the details.

“Over the course of the past few decades, our magi and those of Lumekkor and its Alliance have met regularly at a place called Sa-Utar. While there, I made a series of discreet inquiries regarding the Clan of the Seer. Pandura knows nothing of this
; otherwise, I would already be dead, and you, on your way back to Aztlan. That would be disastrous, since I’ve come to the realization that our civilization cannot possibly last much longer—though it will doubtless last just a little longer than I will.

“For that reason I am remaining where I am. I will quietly try to hamper Pandura and the Titans in as much of their mischief as I can, as opportunities arise. I will also mislead Pandura as to your whereabouts, should she ever show a mind to want to find you. Thus far, the only reason she has for doing so is spite. Since she is usually smart enough not to let that motivate her major decisions
, and other things currently distract her mind greatly, you should be reasonably safe where you are.

“I arranged this delivery through diplomatic channels at Sa-Utar
, and then erased the memories of each official I used when their guard was down. Even the delivery men will not recall anything, as I programmed each to forget everything once they are on the main road back to Sa-Utar. The one with the receipt scroll will deliver it directly to me and then forget that he did so. My skill has not lessened, though its only use now is to keep you safe. Had Prometu lived and known you; he would have warned you to go with the Seer. He saw much that I was too afraid to act on at the time. That is why he is dead and I soon will be.

“I now give you the implanted word to release all your lost memories. It is a nonsensical random set of syllables combined from the words
new-wine
, and
sailor
. Actually, not totally random. I thought the Seer’s son that you ran off with looked like a dashing sailor. Farewell, Pyra. This communing will end after I say the release word:
Deukal’Uinne
!”

Tiva felt T’Qinna buckle as she saw the orb go dim.

“Are you alright?”

T’Qinna lowered herself into a floor cushion. “The details are a bit clearer—and terrible. But the worst of it had already come back to me during my journey with A’Nu-Ahki and U’Sumi.
E’Yahavah had already revealed the truth, so I’m done with it.”

“Who was she?”

“Mnemosynae was my mentor at the Temple Academy. I once loved her greatly. I suppose I still do, even after her betrayal—especially now that I know she’s sorry. And I do forgive you, Mnemosynae. I wish I could tell you somehow.”

“I don’t think that would be a very good idea,” Tiva said. “She wouldn’t want you to anyway—she’s risked a lot to keep your whereabouts hidden. I think that
, deep down inside, she knows you forgive her.”

T’Qinna wiped her tears on her wrap. “I suppose you’re right. This reader-writer orb might even come in handy someday—look at all the blank crystals she sent with it!”

“You think she’s trying to tell you something?”

T’Qinna closed the box and locked it. “
Yes; to remember and to see that others do not forget the terrible choices our generation has made.”