Laldasa (19 page)

“That won't happen,” said Jaya, side-stepping the issue. “Trust me. The arrangements for his well-being will be to your satisfaction. Can he be told that Ana needs the leaf without arousing suspicion?”

Pritam nodded. “There are ways. No one outside the family knows Anala is on Mehtar. Messages about her will not be expected to come from me.”

“Where is she, supposedly?”

“She went up to the camp at Tibi and took ill. As far as the KNC is concerned she is still there, fighting a case of vapor chill. She smuggled herself out of camp in a shipment of ore.” Pritam-sama's eyes glinted speculatively. “Perhaps we should not be so hasty to get Ana home.”

“Why not? Surely, Nadim-sama is worried.”

“Oh, yes. He is that. The whole family is frantic, but I can put their hearts at rest with my next trans-chat. Think, mahesa. On Avasa Ana is in danger. Here ... ?” He shrugged.

Jaya nodded. “She's anonymous and probably a good deal safer. Yes, I see your point.”

“But you, Nathu Rai. If you are afraid of being found out-“

“I'm afraid only of what might happen to Ana. If she's safer in the Sarojin Palace, then that's where she'll stay. Now, I'd better go.” He turned, then paused. “Be careful what you say over the trans-chat, Pritam-sama. Someone may be listening.”

The Avasan grinned mirthlessly. “Have no fear, mahesa. We Guilders have our own peculiar language. Peace to you. And may Tara-ji smile on all your undertakings.”

A most composed-looking Ravidas was enjoying his food when Jaya returned to the table. A quirked eyebrow formed a question mark.

Jaya smiled and tackled his own meal. “I feel much better, having satisfied my vanity,” he said. “You will note my Saroj is now delivered of that purple smudge.”

“Ah, yes,” replied Ravi, squinting at his Nathu Rai's forehead. “I am relieved.”

So was Jaya, and he settled back to enjoy his meal.

oOo

Ana's day had gone much less smoothly than Jaya's. Despite his concern about her being out on her own, she spent most of it wandering the Port Zone, following this new arrival or that. Jivinta knew what she was about, and had been surprisingly discouraging, but she had not tried to stop Ana from leaving the Saroj.

Ana saw a number of people from home, but the thieves never appeared to dog their tracks. She thought of approaching the Avasans herself, passing them notes asking them to contact her at the Sarojin Palace, but caution and courtesy got the better of her. The thieves might be watching. It would do her no good at all to be seen, perhaps even recognized by them. Besides, she thought, watching Mitras's orb slide, crimson, toward the skyline, she could hardly give away the Nathu Rai's address as if it were her own. The last thing he needed in his present circumstances was to have the Sarojin Palace turned into a camp for Avasan refugees.

In the sunset of a fruitless day, Ana mounted the horse she'd slipped from Kenadas's stable and rode slowly toward the Sun Crescent. She despised her black mood. Gloom did not come naturally to her.

Passing the Asra Complex, she felt a swift need for intimate conversation with Something beyond herself. She stopped the horse and studied the magnificent dome of the Asra where it sat jewel-like amid its ancillary buildings—the Council Hall, the Hall of Knowledge, the Hall of Records. Surely, she could manage to enter unseen. Her clothing was inconspicuous and dark. But what if she was noticed? The Sun Crescent was Sarojin home turf. The Dandin of the Sanctuary would certainly know every soul in their community. A stranger would stand out like ... like an Avasan on Mehtar.

In the end, she gave in to her inner need. It was dark when she entered beneath the lamplit archways and she tried to keep to the pools of shadow that eddied along the curving back wall of the Most Holy. There were few worshippers here at this time of day and most of those wore the silken robes of Orders. There were several older women in street clothes offering veneration at the feet of the Flower Altar, and a Dandin, still in the heavy chamber robes of the Vrinda Varma, knelt in a wall niche.

She surveyed the heart of the Asra. The circle of cushions around the Rama Fire was empty but for one very young bhakta whose half-shaved head and black robes marked him as one of the ascetic Asen.

Taking a deep breath, she moved silently to sit as nearly opposite the youth as she could, figuring that the Rama Flame itself would seclude her from him. Once cross-legged on her cushion, she pulled her prayer beads from around her neck and draped them over her head, pressing the large, faceted central crystal between her brows before allowing it to dangle there.

The firelight pierced the facets in a dizzying spray of hues. She followed them for a moment, allowing her eyes to play, unfocused, in the swirl and dance of colored lights. Her mind began to calm. She gazed past the crystal to the Flame that danced in its silver bowl. Light and heat ... life of souls and planets.

She began a soft chant, her body rocking to an internal rhythm. The tension and frustration flowed out, light and heat flowed in. Time was meaningless here. It melted upward with the tongues of flame, curled toward the vaulted ceiling, and dissolved in tiny wisps of scented smoke. Deep in the spiral weave of meditation, Ana confronted the shame of being yevetha and was solaced: There is no shame save in breaking faith.

She had begun to swim toward outer consciousness, clutching that thought as if it was a Sagaran pearl, when she knew she was being watched. She opened her eyes and removed the beads from her head. Across from her—or nearly so, for he had moved—the young bhakta stared at her gravely. Seated on the cushion next to her, sat a Deva of the Cloud Order, arrayed in silver and white. Her waist-length hair was so close in color and sheen to her robes, it seemed to melt into them.

Ana bowed her head and quickly gave the respectful greeting. “Deva,” she said.

The other woman nodded in return, her dark, colorless eyes searching. “You have agitated my young associate,” she said. “He is not used to having young women appear suddenly at the Rama Fire and perform devotions ... least of all if they are not in Orders.”

Ana couldn't help throwing the bhakta a slightly pointed glance. “I am Rohin, Deva,” she said respectfully. “I wasn't aware that this Asra was reserved for the Orders.”

“It isn't, but ... ” The Deva's mouth twisted wryly. “Mehtaran custom does not make your actions ... common.”

“Is my devotion not acceptable to Tara-ji?”

“I am sure it is more than acceptable to Her.”

“Then, may I not offer it here?”

“You may offer it wherever you are called to offer it. I speak only of custom, not of Law.” The Deva's eyes glided to the young ascetic's face, then back to Ana's. “You're Avasan, are you not?”

“Yes, Deva.”

“Yet, you wear the Saroj on your brow. I know the Sarojin clan very well. I was not aware of an Avasan branch.”

“A remote branch, Deva. We are called Sadira. We have been two generations on Avasa, now.”

The Deva nodded, making an “ah!” with her mouth. “Am I correct in assuming that on Avasa no one would blink at a young female Rohin offering bhakti at the shrines?”

“You are correct, Deva.” Ana's eyes found the bhakta's face again.

Again, the Deva nodded. This time, she also smiled. The bottomless, black eyes came to life. “I shall inform Brother Dru of this fact.”

Ana dared an answering smile. “I am sorry to have disturbed his devotions.”

“Dru-sama disturbed his own devotions, Rohina. I will suggest to him that a slight difference in custom should not be allowed to spook the steed of contemplation and unseat the Rider.”

“If I might be so bold, Deva—I have found recitation and contemplation of the Seven Vales to be most helpful in learning to keep one's seat.”

The Seven Vales was a highly mystical allegory of the soul's quest for meaning revealed by the Kalki Avatar. It gave novice bhakta fits until they found the comprehension that came only through experience. Ana somehow doubted the unfriendly bhakta's life in a Mehtaran Order had run to that experience ... yet.

She knew there was a red gleam in her eyes. Her mother had always called it her demon. Oh, but it couldn't be a demon, because there it was, echoed, in the Deva's eyes and then, in her smoky, incense-scented laughter.

“That is an excellent suggestion, Rohina Sadira. May I assume you are able to perform such a recitation, yourself?”

“I am able, Deva. And to provide commentary.”

“I would like to hear that commentary someday,” said the Deva, “but now I feel the need to be expedient in giving my young associate his lessons.”

She rose with fluid grace, the yards of silver-silk hair billowing with the movement.

Ana looked up and smiled beatifically. “I'm sure he'll feel well-rewarded by such great bounty.”

The Deva nearly grinned. “Oh, most certainly.” She moved a few steps away, then turned. “You will visit us again, Rohina?”

Ana bowed her head deeply. When she raised it, the Deva was already taking the bhakta aside, her face as unreadable as a festival mask.

Ana chuckled inwardly, feeling much better about everything ... except ...
 
She glanced up into the capacious rotunda above the Asra's Heart of Flame. “Forgive me, Sanat-ji, for judging the bhakta, Dru. And for crediting him with so little inner sight. I pray he is at least as enriched by the Journey through the Vales as I was.”

Her conscience somewhat appeased, she left the Asra and returned to the Sarojin Palace.

When she entered the Evening Room, some twenty minutes later, Kenadas was receiving a heated lecture on responsibility. It took her a moment to realize that she was the cause of the lecture, only a second more to feel profoundly guilty.

“Nathu Rai,” she said.

His head whipped about so briskly, she imagined she heard his neck snap.

“Please, Nathu Rai. Don't take Kena to task on my account.”

Jaya obliged. He dismissed Kenadas, then turned to toss his ire in her direction. “Where were you?”

“I borrowed a horse and went for a ride,” she returned demurely. “I ... needed to clear my head. Sort things through. I told Hadas and Jivinta Mina where I had gone.” It was not quite a lie; she merely omitted where she had ridden. “Ram-ji has always seen to my safety quite well,” she added.

“Ram-ji is, in all likelihood, a mass illusion incapable of protecting a dust mote. You need to look after yourself.”

Her cheeks felt scorched, but she chose not to answer his disbelief.

He changed the subject abruptly. “I saw Taffik Pritam this evening.”

Ana's stomach did a somersault. “You gave him the message?”

Jaya nodded. “He promised to pass it on to your family at the earliest opportunity.”

“Then I will soon be leaving Mehtar.”

Jaya hesitated just enough to make Ana squirm, then he said: “Pritam-sama and I discussed that. We agreed you would be safer here.”

Anala's ire kindled. “You agreed?”

“He brought to my attention that as long as your father's enemies suppose you're on Avasa, they won't be looking for you here.”

“Then you needn't be so concerned about my comings and goings.”

“Don't be smug, Nadim-sa. I'm not worried about the KNC recognizing you and you know it. They're not interested in what happens in the streets of Kasi, but Parva Rishi is. Neither of us knows to what lengths he would go to protect those interests.”

Anala blushed. “I didn't mean to be smug, Jaya Rai. Forgive me.”

Jaya motioned at the chairs by the nearest hearth. “Will you sit down and have some tea with me?”

“Thank you, I could use some.”

Ana made herself comfortable in one curving cup, then watched the leap of flame as Jaya seat himself and used the chair-side com unit to ring Heli for tea.

“Did you inform Cousin Taffik of my status in your household?” She felt his gaze on her and decided she would never get used to that sensation.

“I told your cousin your id was stolen. I told him you were masquerading as the Rani Ana Sadira—my cousin.”

Ana picked at a stray thread on her seat cushion. “Then you didn't tell him I was your dasa?”

“I value my life, Anala. I don't think Pritam-sama would have reacted well to such news. And you are not my dasa. You were fortunate to have been stumbled upon by someone who doesn't believe in slavery. Why do you persist in provoking him?”

Well, that was an honest enough question. “I don't know. I suppose it's my nature. I am trying to overcome it,” she added.

“Are you, indeed?”

“I went to Asra tonight.”

Jaya laughed at her. “To pray for forgiveness?”

“I always pray for forgiveness,” she told him. “I went ... to sort things out. To get a different perspective.”