The Namura Stone (29 page)

This was true. Each step the sibyla took, each measured step, brought further joy to her face. She was transformed and seemed to be becoming freer with each movement.

Six had been watching her closely. “She is happy. We should let her be. We have no right to interfere.”

So they watched as the sibyla took Diva’s stone deep into the sacred marshes, her eyes fast shut but her feet sure. Without the benefit of sight, she seemed to know how to avoid the quickmire, moving slowly but surely away from the waiting clan.

All this time the watching Namuri had held their stones up above their heads. Now, on some invisible signal, they lowered them, placing them on the ground. Then they began to pound again with their hands on the beaten earth, first with one, and then with the other.

Far away from them now, the sibyla turned to face them. Her factions were illuminated with light, and she held the namura stone up above her head. Both the child’s and the woman’s voice lifted up again in a lament, and the Namuri started to hum in response.

The sibyla began to sink into the sacred marshes, still holding the namura stone above her head. The song, the humming, and the beating of the earth grew towards a crescendo. The sibyla felt the quickmire reach her chin, threw her head back to give one triumphant cry of great happiness, and then disappeared beneath the surface. Her hands remained above it, still encasing the stone with great care, slowly taking it down into the depths of the marshes. The humming peaked as the hands, with their fingertips still pointing straight to the sky, disappeared forever, carrying the stone inside the welcoming marsh, and then the Namuri fell silent.

Grace turned to Ledin. “I feel sick,” she confessed.

Tallen stood up. “We can go now.”

Arcan was flickering, but didn’t share his thoughts. He accompanied them back to the camp, where they found a thin, bent figure waiting for them.

“I am the sibyla,” she said. “Welcome back to our clan.”

She was younger than the previous sibyla, but not by very much. Her arms were thin, and she already seemed rather ethereal. Arcan flashed. He was not feeling particularly pleased with these people; he didn’t understand their customs. He hated to see death, especially when unnatural. He coloured.

“You do not approve of our customs,” said the new sibyla. “But you should remember that we have been living like this for thousands of years. This is part of our heritage. It is not for strangers to judge us.”

Arcan pulsed. “That is true. But I cannot like it.”

“The sibyla are here as custodians of the stones. We act as protectors of the blue light. These are our beliefs. You may not interfere; even the great voice in the wind may not interfere.”

Grace found her voice. “But why did she do that?”

“She took your friend’s place. It was necessary. It gave her great worth, and she will be honoured forever by our people. You should remember that your customs are not more worthy than ours. Humility should tell you that. Now; I think the voice in the wind wants to talk about the stones.”

Arcan coloured. “The stones have something that enables me to escape the quantum traps, some impurity which allows me to tunnel out.”

The old woman smiled. “I do not understand your words, but I know that you need part of our stones. We will provide you with that part; my predecessor left instructions for us. You require so much that we will have to work very hard, but we will save the dust for you when we polish the stones. You may only have what is left when we polish; we will not allow any stone to be destroyed, even for you, Voice in the wind.”

“I would not wish to compromise your beliefs, but it will mean that a great number of stones must be polished.”

The sibyla inclined her head. “That is true, and it will be a sacrifice to undertake so much work at once, but we can do it and, for you, we will.”

“Namura dust?” Ledin raised his eyebrows.

Arcan nodded. “The reason the escape was so difficult was that the stone was whole. I could only use the very edges – the impurities around the circumference of the stone. That made the whole process cumbersome and too violent. The acceleration was very strong, which is what caused the shock wave. I need namura stone, if I am to resist the pull of the Dessites, but it must be as a fine powder, as minute impurities that I can seed all over my whole body. That is the only way I shall be safe from their attack.”

“What do the Namuri usually do with the dust?” asked Grace.

“It is returned to the sacred marshes, of course.” The sibyla inclined her head. “But the voice in the wind is older than the papakura trees, older than our clan, older than the meritocrats. The stones will not begrudge their help to such a being. It is written. We ask nothing in return.”

“Thank you.” Arcan shimmered.

“We will begin the polishing process tomorrow,” she said. “It will take several months, perhaps half a year, for the first batch to be ready. Many preparations are necessary when we work the stone.”

“I shall come back in six months,” promised Arcan. Then he disappeared.

“Here, Arcan—” began Six, who was not looking forward to staying in this village. Then he realized he was talking to thin air and raised his eyes towards the sky.

The sibyla smiled. “The voice in the wind tells me that you can make your own way back to Mesteta. He has gone to find another space trader, he says.”

“Oh, right.” Six shuffled his feet restlessly. He wanted to get back to the canth farm, wanted to see Diva’s canth. Surely she would have made the transition by now?

Grace sensed what he was thinking. “We can’t be sure she will transform, you know,” she warned.

“Of course she will transform!” Six was shocked. “She would never leave me here all alone. And if she doesn’t get a move on, I shall take a trip over to Kwaide, to see some of my old friends there, like Kaileen. That’ll bring her over fast enough, if I know Diva!”

Grace wasn’t convinced. Six seemed to have no doubts at all that Diva would come back as a trimorph, but
she
wasn’t so sure.

THEY MET UP with Bennel again at the crossroads to Mount Palestron. The Coriolan companion was standing there, accompanied by a motherly looking woman, and two thin children. As Six approached, the woman dropped into a deep curtsey.

“
Valhai
Six, thank you for considering me for the position.”

Six opened his mouth. “Wha—”

Grace interrupted. “You’re more than welcome. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to cope without you.”

“Well, I shall make sure he doesn’t have to worry about anything domestic. And he needn’t be concerned about the children getting in the way.” The woman beamed and waved a dismissive hand to encompass both her children. “They won’t bother him at all!”

Her daughter made a small squeak, looking intimidated, and Six took Grace’s arm, leading her apart.

“Something you forgot to tell me, Grace?”

She brushed his hand away. “You needed somebody to look after Raven, and Bennel’s wife was available. It is the ideal solution; her children will help to keep Raven company. And, in any case, you should have looked into Bennel’s situation yourself. Did you know that he was expelled from the order of the companions for going to find Diva off-world, under his own steam? He hasn’t been paid since then!” She and Six fell behind, as she filled him in with all the details. His face got longer and longer as she told him about Lannie.

Finally he blew out air. “
Fine!
You are obviously right; let’s just leave it at that.” He walked faster, to catch Lannie and the two children up.

“I am glad you were able to come. We will talk about salary later.”

Lannie was shocked. “We want no salary, thank you very much. We have not sunk as low as that!”

Six’s eyes slid to Grace, who shrugged, and then Bennel.

Bennel grinned. “We are not used to such things,
Valhai
Six. We are used to working in exchange for food and a dwelling.”

“You shall have both,” he promised. “And an education for the children.”

“An education? What is that?” Lannie asked.

“We will teach them things.”

Lannie’s mouth formed a straight line, and she put both hands on her hips. “And I can’t, I suppose?”

Grace found herself grinning. Lannie would keep them all on their toes, she thought to herself. She hoped the plain-spoken woman would help Six to find some sort of transition from life with Diva to life without her. Because Grace was not at all sure that her friend would come back as a morphic. And even if she did, how would Six feel?

Bennel held out his arms for Raven to clamber up them. “This is my family, Raven,” he explained. “You met them before, remember? When we were here that time with your mother. They are going to come to live with us.”

Raven examined the three people in front of her dubiously.

“Family?”

“That’s right, family. They are going to be your family too, from now on. This is my wife, Lannie, who is going to look after you …” Lannie dipped in a small curtsey, which made Raven giggle, “… and this is my son, Sanjai, who is ten, and my daughter, Quenna, who is just eight now.” Sanjai grinned at Raven, who chortled, and Quenna bobbed a smaller version of her mother’s curtsey.

“’Enna?”

“That’s right. Quenna, and Sanjai.”

“S…s…” But the little girl wasn’t able to get her tongue around the first syllable. She gave up. “’Jai,” she baptised him. “’Jai!”

Sanjai, trying not to be intimidated by his first meeting with the heir to the meritocracy, gave a cheeky wave. From that moment on, Raven adopted him as her brother.

She waved her thin arms in the air. “’Jai! ’Enna!”

Bennel and Lannie smiled. Grace felt relieved. It seemed her idea was going to work out. She was glad.

Tallen glared around at them. “We have to make our way to the landing area,” he pointed out. “It will be nightfall in a few hours.”

ARCAN WAS SPEAKING to Aracely, Vion’s sister, back on Valhai.

“—So you see, I’m afraid I need another space trader.”

Aracely’s eyes widened. “Arcan! You have only had the last one for eighteen months. You have to be joking!”

Arcan shimmered, but didn’t answer.

“You aren’t? What happened? Was that how Diva …?” Aracely looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t ask.”

“There is no reason why you should not ask, but I am afraid that I cannot tell you. The trader exploded, and I need a new one.”

Aracely gave a business-like nod. “Then we will have to speak to Mandalon again. I suppose he will be able to sell you another one.”

“Are there funds for it, without affecting the projects we already have underway for the foundation?”

“I think so, though it may mean cutting back on the new plans we had to found a quantum physics department at the New Kwaide university.”

“That is unfortunate, but I am afraid that I must have a trader.”

Aracely was about to ask him something, then thought better of it.

It was none of her business; she was not one to pry. If Arcan thought she should know about his travels, he would tell her. Her teeth pressed against her lower lip. Sometimes it was hard to be so close, yet so far away.

She and Arcan transported across to Mandalon’s skyrise and found the young head of Sell trying to reason with his new Namuri guards.

“I tell you, I am your emptor, and I will go exactly where I want to!”

The sturdy guards were looking mulish. One, the largest, was speaking. “It is not our place to tell you where you can and can’t go, but it would be impossible to protect you adequately while on the Xianthes.”

Mandalon had raised his head. “I don’t care what you say; I am going.”

“Then we must all come with you.”

“You couldn’t all fit into the same cage on the dark Xianthe!”

When the leader of Sell saw Arcan appear, he hurried over to him.

“Arcan! Tell these squareheads that I would be quite safe to visit Xiantha! They seem to think I would be risking my life to go up the Xianthes! I am not a child! I want to travel away from Valhai! Tell them!”

Arcan rather liked Mandalon. He had a sneaking admiration for the young boy who, at only ten, had stepped forwards so resolutely to take charge of his world. He softened. “I can take you, if you like.”

“You!” Mandalon’s face brightened. “Would you? Really?”

“If you wish. I presume your guards would have no problem with that?” The orthogel entity darkened and looked around at the staring Namuri guards.

Their spokesman cleared his throat hastily. “No problem. If the voice in the wind is to accompany the emptor, then there could be no objection at all.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Xiantha, Cesis, maybe New Kwaide. I would like … what is it called?” —he appeared to be racking his brains— “Oh yes, I have it … a ‘holiday’.”

“All right, but that brings me to the reason for this visit. I need to acquire a new trader.”

Mandalon looked in surprise at Aracely, who spread her hands and gave an expressive shrug. “Already?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Mandalon was obviously wondering if the loss of the trader had anything to do with Diva’s death, but, unlike Aracely, decided to keep his speculations to himself. He frowned and thought for a moment.

“It doesn’t seem fair to ask you to transport me half-way around the binary system and back and then charge you full price for a trader. And I know you take my Namuri guards back and forth to Coriolis. In fact, you have done a huge amount for us, Arcan, and I think that perhaps it is time we did something for you. I will give you the trader at cost, this time.”

Aracely looked surprised. This was a huge concession from a Sellite, although for one glorious second she had thought that he was actually going to make Arcan a present of the whole thing. Even so, at cost price she might even be able to go ahead with the plans the foundation already had.

Arcan flashed with sudden colour. He realized that the leader of Sell had just made an important concession, though he personally couldn’t see why the race was fixated on material things and so found it difficult to value the gesture. “Thank you, Mandalon of Sell. I appreciate that.”