Balmythra

Chapter Ten

  A Traumatic Homecoming

  "You mean they're here?" Matt turned as if expecting some kind of killer droid to leap out at us. I felt a little uneasy, myself.

  "No," Jor said. "We'll have to psifly to Vannarius. Alleana, I'll need your help. He'll be dead weight."

  "Hope I can remember how to do this." My words clearly didn't comfort Matt. I reached for his hand; he stuck it behind his back.

  "I'm needing a little more info here. Explain how psiflying works. Is there a magic wand involved?"

  I thought of our shared coffin and grinned. "No, silly."

  "Is it anything like flying?"

  I exchanged a look with Jor. "Not exactly."

  "Then what?"

  "It's like thinking yourself from one place to another like in Harry Potter."

  Matt's eyes widened. Jor rested a hand on his shoulder. "Be prepared to psifly again quickly, if necessary."

  On hearing that, Matt caught my left hand and laced his fingers with mine. Jor gave him a look I couldn't read before turning his full attention to me. "I’m thinking of a ledge near the secret place where Rocc and I used to hike, not far from Vannarius. I believe you followed us there."

  My jaw dropped. "You knew that?"

  "Of course I did."

  That was news to me. I nodded agreement and closed my eyes, picturing that particular spot as it had been the last time I saw it. At once I felt light as a feather. I had just enough time to equate psiflying to weightlessness, a term Matt would understand, before I found my feet on firm ground again and opened my eyes.

  The three of us now stood on a rock ledge that overlooked the valley village of Vannarius. Without another word, Jor edged forward to gaze at the misty scene below. I turned my attention to Matt, who appeared a little the worse for wear. "Was that so bad?"

  He shook his head, but didn't let go of my hand. His eyes, darting from sky to boulder to valley said it all. I could imagine the mental overload he must be experiencing. All in all, Matt was having one heck of a day.

  "No wonder you don't have cars."

  I flashed a sympathetic smile. Things were happening too fast, but there wasn't anything I could do about it.

  At that moment, Jor stepped back. "I think we'll be able to see better from over there." He pointed to another ledge a little to the north. "We don't have far to walk."

  He motioned for us to follow and led the way through two boulders, a fairly tight squeeze that made the going single file and tricky. Glad for once that I qualified as petite, I had no trouble maneuvering the pass. Matt, behind me and still attached, struggled a bit, judging by his occasional grunts.

  Once we reached a wider break in the boulders, Jor turned and put a finger to his lips. He didn't have to warn me twice. Feeling decidedly spooked now, I resisted the urge to tiptoe, but did close the distance between myself and Jor. Matt stepped up behind, making me the middle of a man-wich. I didn't mind a bit since a rush of gloom and doom now threatened my composure. Ominous, foreign, it weighed me down like a soggy quilt. All at once chilled to the bone, I couldn't keep from slipping two fingers through a back belt loop of Jor's faded jeans.

  He stopped short and half turned, frowning as he visibly gauged my emotions. His gaze seemed to burn right through me. Guessing he could tell how very frightened I was, I blushed with embarrassment. I felt the equivalent of another Sairon hug, a mental energy boost that should've warmed my heart. This time it didn't.

  Guardians always rose above fear. When presented with a problem, my mother simply solved it. Emotions never overcame her; she used logic and the wisdom of centuries. Unable to do the same, I'd pretty much failed my first test. Had Jor picked up on that?

  Certain he had, I resisted meeting his gaze. I felt Matt behind me, so close his heart hammered against my back. He ducked his head and put his mouth to my ear. "What's up?"

  Without warning, Jor pivoted to give me a real hug, which meant Matt had to step back. Just as abruptly, Jor released me and turned away. He immediately continued down the path between the giant rocks. Absolutely stunned—Sairons rarely got that physical in public—I couldn't move a step.

  Matt urged me forward with a firm nudge. Loose pebbles skittered noisily down the path, which now sloped sharply downward. Unexpectedly, I stumbled. Matt caught me.

  Jor stopped and turned again, studying me for a second. He pointed to his right before squeezing himself through a crevice in the relentless wall of rock. I followed without a word, as did Matt. Just when I thought I would surely get stuck there, Jor stepped free. Matt and I did the same seconds later. My knees immediately buckled. Jor caught me before I hit the ground.

  "This may be a bad idea," he said even as pain pierced my body, and I went down again. This time no one was fast enough to catch me. I landed on all fours on the rock. When both males set me upright, my legs shook and my scratched hands stung.

  "I'm okay." I blinked against a blinding headache. Sudden nausea made me wish I hadn't eaten that late lunch. I tried to focus on the scene before us. It wasn't easy. Vague memories of a frightening figure distracted me. My stomach churned big time. I struggled to ignore it, to regroup and focus again.

  Shrouded in the unnaturally heavy mist lay Vannarius, my beloved home. It could've been midnight instead of early afternoon. At first everything appeared just the same. Then the mist vanished, and I understood my intense feelings of fear and dread. I saw a war zone with tanks and cannons, barbed wire and devastation. What used to be a thriving village lay in ruins, nothing more than a charred shadow of the beauty that was Vannarius.

  Though I couldn't actually see my childhood home, a beautiful stone castle complete with tall towers, a moat, and a drawbridge, I could sense the structural damage to it and knew that evil dwelled there now. A sort of ash covered everything. The sky, more black than blue here, served as backdrop to what appeared to be a smoldering volcano. I immediately gagged and then leaned over the edge of a rock, retching until my insides burned. Humiliated, I wiped my mouth on my sleeve. Jor started towards me.

  Matt shoved him aside. "Back off. You knew this would happen, and you brought her here anyway." He scooped me up in his arms. After turning completely around to study the landscape from all angles, Matt began walking toward the cliff to our right.

  I twisted to see Jor, who trailed us, shoulders slumped. "You have to tell me. When did this happen? And how?"

  He turned back toward Vannarius and wordlessly pointed out some structures I hadn’t noticed before. Long and narrow, decidedly twenty-first century earth in design, they stood in rows like barracks.

  Belatedly, I realized that's exactly what they were. Hundreds of them. Once more I sensed evil. When Jor pushed some explanatory images into my head, everything went sort of gray. I heard someone moan and realized it was me.

  Matt zoned in on Jor. "Whatever you're doing, stop it now."

  Jor didn’t argue. "I promise I'll tell you everything after you've had something to drink, Alleana. He's right. I shouldn't have brought you here...."

  I gave in and wrapped my arms around Matt, burying my face in his neck. I wondered what he made of all this, but found his expression stony when I tried to read his expression. Jor led us down a grassy slope to another break in the rocks, this one wider. He ducked into the crevice, which wasn't that at all, I quickly discovered, but a cave.

  Dark and damp, it didn't welcome us until Jor gathered some sticks from outside. He laid them on the ashes of a previous fire, placed his hands on them, and closed his eyes, clearly concentrating on the task at hand. In seconds, the sticks burst into flames that danced around his fingers, but did not hurt him. This amazed me, as always.

  Matt set me on my feet. Since I didn’t trust my legs, I immediately sank to the cold rock floor of the cave near the fire. At that moment, I doubted I'd ever feel warm again. To my surprise, Matt settled himself right behind me, and we sat just as we'd sat on the tiny balcony at Pringle's only one day ago. He wrapped his a
rms tightly around me, which felt like heaven. I leaned back against his chest with a sigh of relief. Matt rested his chin on my head.

  Jor watched through half-closed lids, his expression blank. When his mind silently probed mine, I reluctantly allowed him to experience the warmth of friendship that Matt provided, but nothing more. Our gazes locked. Jor turned away and sat down opposite us, his face now eerily shadowed by the flickering flames.

  He picked up a good-sized rock and stroked it, mumbling words I couldn’t hear. Before my eyes, it took on the shape of a kettle, which he soon set on the flames. I heard Matt's soft intake of breath, but he said nothing.

  Jor next filled the pot with water, a feat accomplished with a simple gesture. He produced bagowan leaves seemingly from thin air, but I knew they came about through a Sairon psychic gathering technique that could be utilized if trees and water were nearby. In no time smaller rocks became cups through molecular manipulation, a Sairon skill I'd always envied, and Jor soon handed me refreshment in the form of steaming hot bagowan tea. He handed Matt a cup, as well.

  Matt kept one arm around my waist as he sipped his drink. I heard his soft chuckle. "Tastes just like that coffee concoction of yours, Leah."

  Jor didn't crack a smile. "Bagowan tea has great healing properties."

  "Well, it always made this girl feel better." Matt playfully pulled my hair with his free hand.

  We sat in silence for a moment as my strength slowly returned. I felt Jor's mental inquiry as to whether or not the tea had helped. I let him know that it had, but again hid my other emotions from him. More than ever I sensed a difference in Jor—a difference I didn’t trust.

  "Why have the Sairons allowed such destruction?" I asked. "Your psychic powers must be superior to those of our enemy."

  Jor nodded. "True enough. Unfortunately, we're helpless against their weapons, which are not from Balmythra." He sighed. "The Dagonel immigrated a few at a time from Nodyra." Jor's voice sounded gruff in the heavy silence. "We welcomed them as we welcome any visitor, though we sensed from the beginning that they were different from the usual Nodyran tourist."

  "So they look like everyone else here?" Matt asked.

  Jor nodded. "On the outside they appear to be normal men, women, and children. But their mental powers—which we Sairons instinctively assess—can only be called primitive. They thirst for technology and power, which clashes with our ways. We knew this from the beginning, but Balmythra's positive energy makes it hard to feel threatened."

  "When did you realize they were trouble?" asked Matt.

  "Ceedrill was the first to question their motives. She felt their hatred, probably because so much of it was directed at her, and she sensed that they meant harm. I was with her when she realized she was in danger. She gave me her ring and told me to run for help."

  "She gave a child something that important?" I couldn't believe it.

  "She had no choice. The Dagonel took her captive before I could get to Koann. He sent us to find you while he tried to rescue Ceedrill." Jor stopped talking for a moment as if lost in dark memories. "Everyone soon felt the aftershock of your mother's capture. Chaos resulted."

  "Where did that volcano come from?" I asked. "Vannarius never had one before."

  "A result of the corruption, I think. Like an infection."

  "When did you decide to take my memories?" I asked.

  "It was a last-minute choice, as impulsive as throwing you in the Stream. Rocc had nothing to do with that, either. We actually didn’t have a plan beyond finding you when we started looking.”

  In a flash, I recalled every single detail of that awful day, from hearing an algoran singing in the bushes to being stalked by a monster I'd dreamed about so many times I'd actually given it a name: gorgol. Its features had morphed horrifically before my eyes. I'd thought I was dead...until Jor, who was eight at the time, showed up. "So you didn't mean to push me toward the gorgol?"

  Jor frowned. "What are you talking about?"

  "The gorgol that was about to eat me alive." A glance at Jor, showed me his frown had deepened. "Oh come on. You couldn't have missed something that big and scary. It was standing in the middle of the path and had awful claws just waiting to grab me. You pushed me right toward it." I couldn't help but accuse him.

  Jor shook his head. "I pushed you into the Stream. There was no one there but the two of us. When Rocc caught up you were already gone." He thought for a moment. "Maybe your hallucination had something to do with your mother's kidnapping. Maybe her terror transmitted itself to you in visual form."

  "Whatever." I mentally put another x in the reasons-not-to-trust-Jor column. "How did Rocc react when you told him what you’d done to me?"

  “His heart broke. He eventually agreed that the Stream was the safest place for you, of course."

  How could he? I wondered.

  Jor seemed to read my thoughts. "Rocc adores you and hated what happened."

  "I adore my brother right back, which is the reason I'm going to Pringle's to find him."

  Once again I felt the Sairon’s mental questioning. I revealed to him the full extent of my determination and felt him give in even before I heard his response.

  "All right. You win. We'll go get him."