Guardian of the Storm (16 page)

“That’s part of the prophesy, though, so it’s something we need to open a door. The part that worries me is that neither one of us understand the written language--I guess they hadn’t considered that possibility—but, even if we find our way to whatever place we were supposed to go to, I don’t know if we’ll be able to figure out what we’re supposed to do once we get in.”

Kiran thought about it for several moments. “We must return to the Keepers of the Memory. If there is anyone who would be able to tell us, it would be the Keepers.”

Tempest frowned. “Was that supposed to be part of the prophesy?” Kiran shook his head and she bit her lip thoughtfully. “We’re not going to have time to go back and still make it to the right place at the right time, are we?--Because I don’t think there would have been any mention of a planetary alignment if it hadn’t been significant.”

“We will ask the Mordune for their aid.” As little as Kiran liked the thought, particularly given their leader’s interest in her, he realized Tempest was right. If he accepted that Tempest had been fated for him, then he must also accept, however confusing it was, that everything that had happened was a part of the design,
meant
to happen. Just because the prophesy wasn’t unfolding as he’d envisioned it didn’t mean it wasn’t the prophesy or that it would not come to pass exactly as had been foretold if he completed his journey as he’d been destined to.

Tempest looked at him in surprise, but she didn’t argue, knowing he was right. Unless they could get an
aquestan
, there was no way they’d be able to learn what they could from the Keepers and still reach the sacred valley before the alignment.

* * * *

Tempest was glad she had something to focus on that took precedence over her personal concerns. She should have been relishing the memory of her sexual encounter with Kiran. He had been her first. It had been wonderful—though the first was generally not expected to be—but she knew it was because she had grown emotionally attached to Kiran.

The problem was, she was afraid she had misunderstood everything in her inexperience. She had gotten so caught up in the way he made her feel that she’d simply ‘assumed’ he was feeling the same things. Afterwards, when she’d been clear headed enough to think, it hadn’t taken long to realize that Kiran hadn’t said anything to indicate that it was more than lust—not that she would’ve objected to a purely lustful encounter under other circumstances—but the culmination had intensified her emotional attachment to him.

It would’ve been far wiser to have kept her distance.

It was too late to worry about that now. It was done. And she had no idea how to handle it.

She knew she was being cowardly. She should have just talked to Kiran about it, but she couldn’t bring herself to allow the possibility of having her pride further trampled. It would’ve been wonderful, of course, if he’d professed undying love or something like that, but nothing he’d said seemed to indicate the conversation might be going in that direction.

She was furious with herself. Why was it that it was never enough to
know
something was bad for you? Why was it that people always had to try it, just in case they were wrong? Kiran was a wonderful person. She couldn’t blame him. He’d made it clear she was in his way. He hadn’t tried to seduce her. He’d done his best to ignore his urges.

Knowing all of that, she’d worked hard to focus on the possibility of a future with people of her own kind, whom she understood and knew would understand her. She really had tried to ignore her growing attachment to him, and her urges to entice him. If she just hadn’t pushed it by giving in to the urge to get close to him physically, everything would’ve turned out all right. He wouldn’t have given in. She wouldn’t have experienced that oh-so-fleeting moment of triumph when she’d felt like she’d claimed him … and she wouldn’t be feeling sorry for herself now, wounded, lost.

She glanced up to discover that Ta-li was watching her. He was the leader of the group of men who’d captured her and Kiran, and it was he who’d volunteered to take her and Kiran wherever she needed to go.

It wasn’t too difficult to see he lusted for her. She knew without a doubt what that expression meant now. She wasn’t going to flatter herself that it was anything else. He’d been kind and helpful, but she couldn’t think of any logical reason why it might be more than that. She hadn’t even been able to speak to him—not directly, anyway. He didn’t know her language, and she certainly didn’t know his.

Not that it mattered.

She was still emotionally attached to Kiran and, in any case, she thought she’d learned her lesson. As she’d known, it would be far better to focus on her own kind … always assuming there were enough of them left that she had that option.

Smiling at him a little vaguely, Tempest returned her attention to the distant range of mountains that was their destination.

Kiran, accepting her determination to pretend nothing had ever passed between them, had gone back to being withdrawn. Except for necessary conversation, they’d hardly spoken since they had left the mountain and headed for the Mordune encampment. Once they’d reached it, they had made arrangements to leave immediately, and they’d scarcely left the backs of the
aquestans
since.

They were loathsome beasts. They stank for one thing. Otherwise, they were temperamental and stupid. The one she rode tried to stomp poor Kirry any time the poor little thing came anywhere near it.

If they weren’t running out of time, she would’ve preferred walking.

If, she amended, they weren’t running out of time
and
things weren’t so uncomfortable between her and Kiran now. Being alone and on foot had only seemed to add to the strain between them. At least now they had a physical buffer between them that made the emotional one seemed less noticeable as a barrier.

The sun was low on the horizon by the time they drew near enough to see the city of tents dotting the sand below the mountain. Despite everything, Tempest felt her spirits lift. Kiran had said there were Earthlings among them. Maybe she would at least have the chance to see them and find out if it was anyone she knew.

She was dismayed, however, when chaos suddenly broke out in the encampment and men surged forward, bristling with spears and swords. Kiran spoke to Ta-li and then, when Ta-li nodded, guided his beast alongside hers. Taking the leading ropes from Ta-li’s grip, he urged both
aquestans
to take the lead while the Mordunes fell back a few paces.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Kiran’s expression was grim. “We are enemies of the Mordune.”

“Oh.” Tempest felt stupid. Between her own emotional problems and the task she was trying to help Kiran complete, she hadn’t given much thought to the possibility that they might find a poor welcome when they arrived at the Zoean encampment with a party of Mordune.

Kiran glanced at her. “There are many here who know your language. Guard your tongue. It would be … dangerous to say anything that might call our religion into question.”

Tempest felt a coldness wash over her. She hadn’t thought of that either … now she was going to be fearful of even opening her mouth.

Her heart was still fluttering with fear when Kiran drew the
aquestans
to a halt a short distance from the men who’d come to ‘greet’ them.

They might know her language, but it was their language they used in the ensuing, somewhat heated, discussion. Finally, with obvious reluctance, they were allowed to proceed with their escort.

Despite her nervousness, Tempest glanced around with some interest as they rode between the tents. Many of the Zoeans, like Kiran, were dressed in loincloths of animal hide, though here and there she saw women wearing woven robes very similar to the robes the Mordune wore. The ‘star children’ weren’t hard to pick out among the Zoeans.

As Kiran had pointed out, they were far smaller in stature. Beyond that, the Zoeans were almost universally dark haired, ranging from blue black hair to a medium brown. Five of the half dozen humans she saw had varying shades of blond hair, from barely brown to an almost colorless white.

The oldest she saw was a boy who looked to be about fifteen Earth years.

She didn’t recognize any of them and disappointment filled her.

The older boy looked her over with interest and she smiled at him, realizing that he seemed vaguely familiar. He was younger than her several years, and it had been nearly two since the disaster. He couldn’t have been one of her classmates, but she decided she must have seen him—or perhaps she’d known an older sibling?

Dimly, Kiran realized even as he urged his beast alongside hers and glared at her that his animosity toward the Earthling youth was way out of proportion to what had passed between the boy and Tempest. Yet there’d been no reasoning with the powerful sense of possessiveness that flooded him when he’d seen Tempest’s interest in the Star Children in general and the youth in particular. He understood her need for others of her kind. He wasn’t sorry that he’d been able to banish the look of desolation in her eyes with the news that she wasn’t alone, that there
were
other Star Children. He was glad that he’d been able to give her that sense of peace and disturbed at the same time that it made him feel threatened in some vague, excruciatingly uncomfortable way.

In time, she could seek them for the comfort of companionship they had to offer with his blessing, but he was of no mind to yield his place for one of them.

Tempest gaped at him in surprise.

He ignored the look, focusing his attention straight ahead.

As if he didn’t
know
he’d blocked her view, Tempest thought indignantly!

After a moment, she dismissed it. She didn’t have time, now, to try to get to know any of her fellow survivors. Later, when they’d done all that they could to unravel the mystery and whatever it was that was expected of them, then, when Kiran brought her back to his tribe she could rejoin her own people.

They stopped at last before the largest tent, which stood in the center, just as it had been in the Mordune encampment. An old man emerged. Kiran dismounted and moved to help her down. Grasping her around the waist and setting her lightly on her feet, he released her almost immediately, turning and kneeling before the man.

Tempest looked down at him a little nervously, wondering if she was supposed to kneel, too. He hadn’t said she should. Surely he would’ve told her, she thought a little frantically?

She relaxed a fraction when Kiran rose once more, allowing her attention to wander while the two men talked. Occasionally, she would hear a word that she recognized, but she wasn’t even close to understanding their language. The tone, she understood, and anger was universal. Finally, Kiran bowed once more and grasped her wrist, leading her back to the aquestan and helping her to mount.

Tempest was confused. She waited until they had ridden through the encampment and dismounted at the foot of the mountain before she asked him what had happened, however.

He was obviously controlling his temper with an effort. “Mikissi will not intervene on our behalf.”

“I don’t understand. Why would we need him to?”

Grasping her around the waist, Kiran helped her down from her saddle. “The priests will allow no one to enter the temple.”

Tempest stared at him. “What temple?”

“The Temple where the Keepers of the Memory live.”

“You mean to say we rode all this way and we aren’t even going to get to talk to them?”

Kiran’s expression was grim. “We can speak through the priests. It has always been the way of things. The priests present the problem to the Keepers and give us the answer once they have consulted them.”

Tempest looked at him doubtfully. It didn’t seem to her that they would make much progress that way, particularly when they wouldn’t be able to ask straightforward questions to begin with. They were going to have to think of some way to find the answers without seeming sacrilegious. “Do you think they’ll help us?”

“We will find the answers we need,” Kiran said grimly.

He strode away then, spoke to Ta-li for some time and apparently came to an agreement. Ta-li and his men mounted the
aquestans
and, tugging the two Kiran and Tempest had been riding behind them, rode off.

“They will circle the mountain and climb the northern pass. They will meet us at the Temple by mid-day tomorrow.”

Tempest felt a touch of alarm. “What are we going to do?”

“We will seize the temple.”

“We’re going to kill the priests?” Tempest exclaimed, horrified.

A faint smile curled Kiran’s lips. “We will hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Tempest wasn’t terribly reassured, but she kept her thoughts to herself. It was easy enough once they began to climb. The path was steep enough to require most of her focus. They hadn’t been trekking much more than an hour when dusk began to settle around them. Kiran scanned the landscape through narrowed eyes and finally chose a place to make an encampment for the night.

Gathering dried brush together, he left her to build a fire and disappeared in search of food. She’d straightened the bedding on as level a spot as she could find and settled on it, staring musingly at the flames when he returned a little later and formed a spit over the flames to roast the small game animal he’d caught and cleaned.

“There is a small pool there,” he murmured, gesturing in the direction.

Tempest nodded in acknowledgement but didn’t move, her thoughts on the handful of her fellow Earthlings she’d seen among Kiran’s tribe. Except for the boy she’d spied, it seemed to her that most of them were too young to be without parents of any kind, which had pretty well quashed her grandiose plans of leading everyone back to the colony. She could barely take care of herself. She didn’t feel confident that she could take care of all the little ones.

And, if she waited until they were older, what then? They’d already spent nearly two years living among the Zoeans. They were bound to grow attached, to begin to relate to their adoptive family if they hadn’t already. She doubted they’d want to leave now. In a few years that seemed even less likely to be the case.