The water rippled softly in the pre-dawn light, as Na'dia danced her katas by the bank of the river. She loved this time of day, for its quiet and tranquillity.
Today, as she had not done for many months, she danced with her bare swords, the orange and pink of the sky reflected in the smooth surfaces of the blades. Here, like almost nowhere else, she could almost forget the turmoil of her spirit, of its unceasing demands for blood, and rejoice in the purity of movement.
So engrossed in the katas was she, that Txep'ean and Tat'yana managed to creep up to the edge of the clearing to watch her dance to greet the sun. It was not until she sheathed her blades that Na'dia realised she had an audience.
"This is how I first Saw your mother," said Txep'ean, as she walked over to them. "I skulked in the bushes, amazed at her grace and beauty, while she danced, oblivious to the world."
"Did you know she was tawtute? A dreamwalker?" asked Tat'yana.
"Yes," he replied to his daughter. "I knew, and I hated her for it – although it was too late for me. Eywa turned my hate aside, and I had no choice but to grow to love her."
"I did happen to save your life," said Na'dia reprovingly.
He shrugged good-naturedly. "So you did," he said. "And I saved yours."
"Sa'nu," asked Tat'yana, "What was it like being tawtute?" Her daughter had never asked her this before.
"That's a very big question for so early in the morning," replied Na'dia. When she saw that her daughter would not accept this evasion for an answer, she said reluctantly, "It was hard, and unhappy, mostly – although there were brief moments of joy. The tawtute do not hear Eywa, and this is the source of both their sorrow, and their terrible strength. They can do marvellous things beyond our conception, like travel between the stars, and walk in our forest as uniltìranyu, but they spend their lives seeking, ever restless, ever alone, and most never find what they truly seek."
"But you found sempu, and Ninat, and the People," stated her daughter. "So you really found what you were seeking."
"Most importantly I found you," finished Na'dia with a smile. There were other things that she had found that she wished she had not. "Come, let us go eat," she said, adding, "And wake up Ninat and Hukato before all the food is gone."
Tat'yana took a hand from each of her parents, and they walked together back to the new Kelutrel, the young girl swinging from time to time between them.
It was almost midday before Na'dia and Ninat left. Ninat said, "I don't see why you insisted on bringing the pe'efzhe with us. It weighs almost as much as a young 'angitsa, and its not like we'll be doing any shooting. We only have two belts of ammo left."
Na'dia retorted, "If I remember rightly, I am the one who loads the pe'efzhe on to the stupid pa'li. I don't see why you are complaining – you only have to carry the spotting scope."
"I'm sorry," said Ninat, uncharacteristically. "I didn't mean to make you angry."
"Apology accepted," said Na'dia shortly, and they rode in silence for some minutes. Na'dia had wished to travel via the Tree of Souls, so that she could seek guidance from the ancestor spirits within Eywa – she sorely felt the need of some reassurance, after her discussion with Mo'at. It should only take a couple of hours to get there, but if Ninat continued in her bad mood, it would seem like a journey of days, or even weeks. Finally, to break the deathly silence, Na'dia asked, "What's wrong, my love?"
She was surprised when she heard Ninat sniff back some tears, and reined in her pa'li, to stop alongside her lover's, to see her face twisted in anguish. Na'dia reached out a hand to touch her life-mate, and asked, "Please tell me."
"It's Peyral," admitted Ninat, "Seeing her with all her children, and about to have another. I was so jealous. I want to have another baby too."
"Well, why don't we?" answered Na'dia calmly. "When we get back, you can stop Uniluke and we can have another child. There are only two between the three of us, after all."
"I can't," said Ninat. "It's not fair to you. I know how much you wanted another child, and how upset you were when Mo'at and the toktors told you not to. I didn't want to make you jealous."
An old ache awoke in Na'dia's heart that she thought had gone, years ago. "I want you to have another child with Txep'ean," she told her lover, despite the empty place in her soul. "Not having a baby because you are worrying about me is no reason. Any child we bring into being between the three of us I will love, whether or not I carried her to term. Do you think I don't love Hukato?"
"No, but...," said Ninat.
"You are right," interrupted Na'dia, knowing exactly what Ninat was about to say. After all, they had been life-mates of most of a decade. "I have a special place in my heart for Tat'yana, because I carried her in my body, just as you do for Hukato. That does not mean I love him any the less, and it will be the same for any baby that Eywa grants to us. I love you, I love Txep'ean, and I love our children. That is all you need to know."
In a very small voice, Ninat said, "I don't deserve you."
"No, you don't," agreed Na'dia, in the most arrogant voice she could muster, using the tone she had used to make graduate students quail before her at Stanford. "I am the palulukan girl from beyond the stars, and I am far above mere mortals. You should count yourself lucky."
A look of outrage appeared on Ninat's face, and she was about to vehemently object to this bare-faced assertion of superiority, when Na'dia added carelessly, "I don't see what you have to complain about. You were the one who sang those words to the song, and spread it amongst all the clans. I have to listen to the damn silly tune everytime I go to visit another clan."
"It's a good song," said Ninat proudly. "The best song I have ever sung."
"I know," said Na'dia softly. "That is because you sing it with love."
Ninat smiled sweetly at her lover, as she had not for many months, and Na'dia felt a great wave of relief spread through her entire soul. She had finally managed to discover what had been eating at her life-mate, and heal the deep wound she had been nurturing. Soon they were chattering together like the best of friends and lovers, all the way to the Tree of Souls. After all, that was exactly what they were.
After they had made camp at the Vitraya Ramunong, Na'dia did not go directly to commune with the Tree of Souls. Instead, she stopped at a rather scruffy looking pamtseowll plant, before which was a small mound covered with short grass. She knelt there, placed her left hand flat on the earth and felt for the life energy around the grave, the soft music of the pamtseowll filling her sensitive ears. She sighed, remembering the pain she had endured in the shell that lay in this grave, for all the years after she was burnt by nuclear fire.
Ninat knew whose body was in that grave. She had been there the night that Na'dia had passed through the Eye of Eywa, and had seen Txep'ean lay the tiny, twisted human in the earth.
"Do you ever miss it?" she asked quietly. Ninat had never seen a body – human or Na'vi – that had been as scarred and damaged and tortured as the tawtute body that had been Na'dia's.
"I fear few things in my life," answered Na'dia. "But my greatest fear is that all my life on Pandora has been but a dream, and that I am about to wake up." She stood up slowly, and hugged her lover tightly.
As she returned the embrace, Ninat reflected that no-one could have given a more clear-cut answer.