AN: Dear Readers, one of the "rules" that writers are supposed to follow is to never introduce a "gun" into a story unless you intend to pull the trigger. Thank you to the reviewers who recognized that the sand cats introduced in the last chapter are indeed a "gun" that will be "fired" in a later chapter. In fact, the male cub, whose name just might begin with the letter "J" will be very important to one of the characters in this story. Real life is very busy for me right now, so if I didn't respond to your review, please know that I read and appreciate all of them. Thank you, everyone, for reading. Your kind words of support mean everything. Sally corrected my mistakes. If you find any, it's because I messed around with the chapter.

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Daughter of Three Suns

Chapter 16

Grandmother's breath greeted me when I left the island's entrance. Her face was before me, and the doorway I sought was just to her left. Breaking into a slow run, I loped across the sands, making my way to the place that tugged and pulled at me.

I walked. I ran. I rested. I ate. Gradually, Grandmother circled around me, first to my right, then behind me. Her breath blew me onward. Although I knew it was time for sleep, I could not stop. When she had made a complete circle around our world, I stood before my goal.

The glowing arch was situated between two tall boulders. I could clearly see desert on the other side. Picking up a small stone, I tossed it through, only to see it land in the sand beyond. So, I thought, the door only opens for living things.

Someone had piled more stones in a line leading to the arch. I wondered if Rosalie had done so to mark its location. I moved closer. There were pictures and symbols carved into the upright boulders. Some appeared to be very old and some seemed newer. My finger traced over the symbol for danger and a warning not to enter. Images of flying basherti were carved around the tops.

A large figure that vaguely resembled Emmett covered most of one boulder. It was strangely misshaped. Its head hung forward from massive shoulders, and its arms reached almost to its knees. Something spilled from its mouth. Were these the mindless monsters Irina had described as the servants of the more intelligent grays? The ones Laurent had called drudges?

A sharper, newer carving caught my attention, I crouched to examine it more closely. There, etched deeply into the rock, was an image of the shackle Irina had worn and given to me before I left. I reached into the bag I wore around my waist and pulled it out. It matched exactly. Using the edge of the metal, I drew it across the rock. It left a deep, clear line. Someone, probably Rosalie, had returned here and marked the rock with its likeness.

But who had drawn all these images and warnings? Had they been left here by other women who had gone to that bad world and managed to escape? How many of those who had been lost on their journeys had passed through this doorway, never to be seen again?

Tired from my long journey, I plopped down on the sand and dug through my pack for any remaining food. There was a small packet of dried fish, a couple ripe appa, and a small cake of fanio meal. I washed it down with the water that remained in my gourd. It did little to satisfy my hunger or thirst. Although I wanted to step through the arch, I knew I should rest and renew my strength before doing so. Both Irina and my sister had warned me to be sure I was rested and well fed before attempting the rescue.

Off to my left a little way was what appeared to be a small island. Not very big, more a jumble of tumbled rocks and boulders. But the scent of water and plants drifted to me, and I knew I could find what I needed there. Rising on trembling legs, I started toward it.

It might not have been big enough for people to live there, but judging from the numerous footprints around the opening, it was used by many different animals as their source of water. The entrance was little more than a slit between boulders. Inside, a spring bubbled up from a pile of rocks before spilling over to create a small center pool. The spring was surprisingly clean, I only had to clear out some fallen leaves before I could quench my thirst. The water was good—very cold, and slightly sweet.

A few fish were swimming in the pool, but I decided I didn't want to start a fire to cook them, so I gorged on ripe appa and rubus berries. I stripped fanio seeds from their stalks and chewed them while I studied the small enclosure. There were no caves, just some shaded ledges created by the jumble of boulders. I selected one that was slightly higher than the others. It was deeper, longer, and faced the entrance.

My sleep was fitful at best. Every noise woke me, and there were many noises. Animals of all shapes and sizes visited the spring to drink. I heard every footstep and every gulp. Each time I woke, the doorway pulled and called to me. It was an insistent need that demanded I come. I tried to ignore it by watching the constant stream of animals, most of which I had never seen or had only been told about. The desert was more alive than I had ever imagined.

With a sigh, I finally sat up. Although I didn't feel entirely rested, I was ready to face what waited for me beyond the doorway. As I shifted around to gather my things, I noticed letters carved into the stone beside me. It was Rosalie's name. She had rested here on at least one of her journeys. I remembered the claw marks on her thigh and wondered if the sand cat I had fed was the one she had surprised. Taking the shackle from my bag, I used it to trace her letters deeper into the rock. Then I wrote my name beneath it. Someday, if I did not return, she might come looking for me and find my name here. At least she would know I had found the doorway.

Later, after eating and drinking, I stood in front of the glowing arch. The sheaths with my throwing knives and disks were across my chest. The storage bag hung from my belt. At the last moment, I shifted the knife from the outside of my thigh to the inside and made sure it was hidden by my shift. My fingers rose to trace the scarlet circle imbedded in my skin. "Guide me, Grandmother Spirit," I whispered. Holding my staff tightly, I stepped through.

…..

It was just as Rosalie and Irina had described to me. A rushing noise, a sudden blackness, and then I stood on the top of a tall building beneath an unfamiliar sun on a completely different world. The abrupt change made me dizzy for a moment, and I crouched to regain my balance. The ground looked very far away, and there was only a short wall to prevent someone from falling. Carefully, I edged away from it.

The two doors Irina warned me about were in front of me. The bigger one that led to the stairways and the flat one to the elevator shaft. I didn't feel a pull to either one, so I knew my basherter must not be near. I had just started to open the flat door when I felt a wrenching deep within me. It was as if I were being torn apart. Sudden pain swept over me, and I fell onto my back, gasping at the sky above.

Then, I was in that sky, sailing above a ruined world. I beat my strong wings and rose higher. Far in the distance, I could see a line of green, and beyond that were towering mounds of land and rock. "Mountains" and "trees"—the names came unbidden. There was a feeling of joy when I saw them.

A yellow sun hung just above the tops of the mountains. It was bigger than Grandmother Sun but much smaller than Mother Sun. Even as I watched, it seemed to slide behind the peaks, and the sky darkened. Night, I thought to myself. This is what Irina had called night.

Glancing at the powerful wings that supported me, I marveled at their beauty and strength. The feathers were golden, shot through with ochre, amber, and scarlet. The tips and ribs were dark brown. Colors of the desert, I thought to myself. I could see my beak, and it was dark red. Grandmother, I thought again.

Tilting my head, I studied the crumbling city below. The buildings were abandoned piles of twisted metal and stone. Many were blackened, and ashes marked the remains of others. It stretched for a long way on either side of me. I marveled that so many people could live in one place.

Ahead was the only remaining tall building. I knew it was called The Tower, and I knew that was where I was supposed to be going. As I flew toward it, I gradually became aware of another being, another consciousness, sharing this body with me. "Basherter?" I whispered to it. Anger, resentment, and rage answered me. It was not happy I was here.

We flew over the roof of the building, and I could see my body lying there. A feeling of satisfaction swept over me and then I felt that horrible wrenching again. With a gasp, I sat up. I was back in my body. Above me, the basherter shrieked and screamed. It dove toward me, talons extended. I ducked quickly, and its feathers brushed my head. I did not understand its behavior. Standing, I called to it. "Basherter, basherter."

It circled again, and then plummeted below the roof. I ran to the wall and peered over to see it fly into an opening on the side of the building. The opening appeared to be about five levels below me, and I could see no way to reach it. I would have to use the elevator shaft. Now that it was much closer, I could feel the pull to find it, to join with it. I returned to the flat door and pulled it open.

A foul smell welled up from the opening, making me cough and gag. My eyes watered from the stench. The open door allowed the remaining sunlight to stream into the shaft, and I could hear grunts and shuffling below. The ones Irina called drudges must be down there somewhere. The noises eventually quieted, and the smell seemed to lessen. Securing my staff to my back, I quietly slipped over the edge, grabbed the rungs of the ladder, and started descending.

The ladder seemed old and weak. I held on tightly, testing each step before putting my weight on it. Several broke, the metal pieces clanging against the sides of the shaft as they fell into the darkness below. Each time, I stayed still and listened for any sounds beneath me. I heard nothing, and the odor didn't worsen.

The attraction to my basherter continued to grow stronger. It was an ache in my chest, a fire in my belly. My fingers itched to touch it. I tried to stay calm, tried to stay safe, but when I finally reached what I thought was the level where it would be, I jumped from the ladder to a wide opening and hurried down a walkway toward the room where it called to me.

I pushed the door open and rushed into the room. There was a man standing there. It looked very much like Emmett, but it wore strange-looking clothing. It smiled and took a step forward. "Welcome, woman from another world," it said.

"Basherter?" I could feel the draw, but there was something wrong. The being in front of me was not the one I was seeking. "You're not …" I started to turn away, but before I could, a strong arm wrapped around my chest, trapping my arms, and pulling me up against a body behind me. A sharp point nicked the skin of my neck.

"Feel that?" a voice growled into my ear. "It's my knife against your skin, bitch. Make one move and I'll slit your throat. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I whispered. The feel of its skin against mine only increased my desire. I felt a rush of heat wash over me. "Basherter, why are you doing this?"

"Shut up!" the voice growled again. The knife slipped and cut a thin line in my skin. I could feel a trickle of blood drip down my neck. "I'm not a basherter or whatever it is your kind calls us, and I'm certainly not anyone's pet bird. You won't fool me like you have the others."

The first man had reached us by now. "Get its weapons first, James," the one behind me said. James reached over my shoulder and removed my staff, then pulled the sheaths over my head. It had to free one of my arms to remove them. I tensed but the knife dug into my skin again. "Don't even think about it." I was warned. My belt with its bag was removed and the sheaths stuffed into it.

James began running its hands over my body. They slid down my sides, across my stomach, and around my hips. Then it knelt in front of me and slipped its hands up along my legs and under my shift.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" the one behind me spoke again. "Quit fooling around and get the restraints put on it. We need to get this over with."

James laughed. "Just having a little fun, brother," it said. Then it started attaching a set of shackles to my ankles. I knew it must have felt the straps of my knife sheath and wondered why it had not said anything. I tensed, preparing to lash out with the claws on my feet, but the knife cut another warning.

James grabbed my hands and fastened another set of shackles to my wrists. Then it stepped back and, after inspecting me up and down, spoke to the one behind me. "Good job, Edward. I think Aro is going to be very happy with this one."