Book 5
Siha: Rise of Rakhana
Part III
"Silver and Fire"
Tetonbaum opens the door and carries out Kasumi, once again wrapped in a blanket as she was when he rescued themselves from Chiata Sanctuary…
…And of Konis Traus's clutches.
Quoyle waits with Borhaus, the three other agents that accompanied them, Roun Kryos nowhere in sight.
"It is done, Sered?"
Tetonbaum need not answer. Instead, he hands Quoyle a pouch.
"Do not touch the shards," he instructs them severely, "…I will carry her to the water myself," his hand lays on the hump of the blanket hiding his wife's hip as he carries over his shoulder.
Through the hallway, he now follows Quoyle, and the four others—keeping an eye out for potential witnesses.
"Take this lift," Quoyle scans his ID over the hotel access panel and opens a door in the wall…Tetonbaum turns inward with the others and Quoyle quick-steps down the rest of the hall to the next junction to see if the passages are clear—then doubles back to join everyone inside the lift.
A tight squeeze, they take the platform to the lower levels.
Tetonbaum can smell leather, bedis with a citrus fragrance, the other drells, his wife's skin and her hair, her blood…
He looks dead ahead—at his opaque reflection in the golden door panels of the lift.
"Do you have your menjaga?" Tetonbaum gravely nods in answer to Quoyle's question. "He will expect to see her blood on it," Quoyle goes on softly, his reflection talking in the panels, "…It will be tasted for her blood and I'll confirm you did the deed when they interview me later..."
The silence thickens in the lift.
The platform stops. The doors slide apart with a low rumble, letting out Quoyle, his fellow Drugi, into the underground halls leading out of the hotel's basements…Tetonbaum dutifully follows, his feet feeling heavy, as though walking through a quagmire of mud with his burden there over his broad shoulder…
…I do this for us…
He turns with them through the hotel's transit-and-maintenance halls, the noise of the vents leading to and from air conditioners, dehumidifiers, through bacterial filters that have kept the hotel dry and stale for years…
The dampness is yet present.
Mold grows in corners, on ceilings, on floors where the walls join at the floorway's edges…
Borhaus looks at the high th'ane carrying his wife's body upon his shoulder. Tetonbaum's face is cold, composed…
…This is him…This is the one we can expect to rise…
"…She should survive…You gave her the poison?"
Tetonbaum dips his chin ever so slightly, "…I did…Thank you, Sered Aralaha, for providing it."
Down a short flight of stairs and up another, through a heavy door—into salty, open air…The hotel releases them to actual beaches outside the holosphere.
Tetonbaum comes to a stop on the rock-paved walk to black sands and boulders.
The waves can be heard, the wind can be felt and a slow rumble tumbles out of the eastern skies—thick with cloud moving fleetly over turbid waters.
A ligature of lightning draws all their eyes to the east's horizon.
He passes her body to Quoyle and Borhaus's agents, "…Take care with her…" Tetonbaum leaves a heavy hand on the blanket folds over where her stomach would be, "…I will come for her when I am finished..." His eyes blink—whether by wind, rain, or tears, they cannot tell from which.
Quoyle signs the Tierrea to him, the others mimicking the same solemn motion.
"Shall I pass your mother your greeting, Sered."
"Tell her…her only child still breathes…" Tetonbaum pauses in thought a moment, "…Is she well?"
Borhaus kisses his fingers in the polite Drugi way of saying Yes, "…Age does little to harvest her beauty, as it does for the rest…She is healthy...She misses you."
Tetonbaum can no longer suppress his smile…His sapphires reveal a former brilliance, "…Tell my mother I love her, and to help Kasumi settle in when she awakens and is healed…If I do not succeed," he presses his lips together, a determination in that expression, "…make sure Kasumi and Non'chalana receive all of my inheritance, equally divided..."
Quoyle nods, "…It will be done. We will see to it…if you fail…" He and Tetonbaum regard each other quietly as the rain beads on their crests and pataks. "The High Th'ane waits for you, Sered. Bring that menjaga of yours to him, show him her blood on it—he will reinstate you to the brotherhood, what with my confirmation of this night's sacrifice…"
Tetonbaum removes his hand from his wife's form, "…Keep her safe…Both of them…Keep them concealed where none may find them but myself and the Drugi."
He signs to them, and they back to him yet a second time.
Tetonbaum watches while they carry her away, towards the beach.
From the water six lights begin to glow a soft orange halo each, through the murky depths, and a black silhouette starts to emerge out from the ocean just offshore by a few hundred feet from the beach's drop-off.
Quoyle and the other Drugi carry Kasumi's body towards the approaching vessel as Tetonbaum turns and heads back inside the hotel's secret outlet.
Heavy in his heart, doubtful of his future, he follows the route they took back up the direction towards his and his wife's apartment…Instead of heading there, he turns another way—goes out into a lobby that allows him to pass through it to reach the northern branch of the hotel, which attaches to the city of the holosphere.
He enters a lift, takes this to another level at the upper-middle section, gets out and heads left down the new hallway to a set of doors that are guarded either side by three thick-necked drells in the snug wetsuits of the hanari forces…The first, who stands in the middle of the second and third, steps forward and makes the sign of the Terje Tierrea over his brow, "…Tetonbaum Soterios…Brother…" He does not grin in this greeting, but puts his big gloved-hand out, "…It has been a long time, Brother Soterios…I believe you have something for us…"
Tetonbaum, needing no other hint, places his menjaga's handle into the open palm, careful not to disturb the blood on the blade.
The th'ane sniffs the tip, erect before his lips, "…A fresh killing…I miss the smell of nondrell blood…Was she worth it, Tetonbaum," he whispers, lowering the knife.
With a lethargic nod, Tetonbaum: "…She was the source of happiness, Brother Brinustilon," Tetonbaum's voice holds no quaver, "…The lifeblood of a dream."
The others look over from their stone-faced dispositions at the red and blue exiled th'ane.
"Pity." Brinustilon looks down upon the knife blade, and aims it at Tetonbaum's heart. "One should never waste a lover on false hope in the heart." He looks at the th'anes beside him, and at Tetonbaum, "…You remember Brothers Vr'iathe and Crindelann?…Walk between them, but behind me and keep your palms open…We will bring you and this menjaga to Master Grenald inside this suite…He has been looking forward to your return..." Tetonbaum holds his hands open at his sides.
The doors slide open and beyond Brinustilon's smooth brown and red crests, is a large figure in the cloth of the Merce'desan th'aneship, and Tetonbaum follows Brinustilon as he turns to head in.
The High Th'ane turns towards their arrival into that entry room of the suite, his black-brown eyes slitting with the pressure of a recognizing smile.
(: Let me see his blade… :)
Brinustilon turns the handle into the net of their master's fingers—Brother Grenald takes hold of the blade, bringing it to his black tongue…
…He tastes the blood of my wife…
The patak of red and opal orange cringes, (: …Still fresh…still sweet and wet…and human…It must have been difficult for you…to part with your wife, young one…I remember you suffered the death of your mother…by this same weapon…with great sorrow… :)
Tetonbaum bows as Brinustilon steps clear of their direct facing one and other. Vr'iathe and Crindelann have closed the doors and come to stand behind Tetonbaum, either side his shoulders.
His palms up, hands out to the sides, Tetonbaum kneels and supplicates himself to the master…His teacher…
(: …Brother Master, :) Tetonbaum waits for him to acknowledge what he has sung in Silent Song, (: …I return into the counsel of your wisdom, and ask your Grace's forgiveness… :)
(: You do, you do… :) Brother Grenald wipes the blade off with a dark cloth he removes from his inner cloak lining, and turns the blade, now handle-first, to Tetonbaum's bent red and blue nape, (: …and do you return with those lovely stones… :)
From the floor, Tetonbaum lifts his sapphire eyes to Brother Grenald's, (: …I have only one. :)
(: One is all we need… :)
Tetonbaum takes hold of the menjaga, replacing it into the fit of his waist-belt's metallic holder.
(: …Hold tight to it… :)
The old th'ane turns and opens a flask of syver on a table stretching away lengthwise behind him, part of a conference room, and pours the alcohol into a glass that has been set out beforehand.
He turns back to Tetonbaum, and passes him the glass, (: …Drink, young one, or do you not trust we who offer you forgiveness… :)
Tetonbaum accepts the proffered drink and takes down the fragile liquor quickly—lest it stale as would their offer if he were to have hesitated a blink, (: …My gratitude, Brother Master. :)
(: Gratitude… :) Brother Grenald sneers and strides surprisingly quick towards the far window that overlooks the city-holosphere of Sulinvia, (: …You…who left us for that woman for one day too many, child-murderer…Gratitude, :) the sagging tebris lifts to reveal bright lines of yellow amid the dark violet tissue, (: …After all we did…We took you in as family…raised you… :)
(: I am a fool, Brother Master— :)
The tebris rattles and the force of his communicated reprimand is emphasized further by the open mouth of the relic, (: …You should be cast out, never allowed even in our memories, spoiled seedling… :)
Brinustilon looks down at Tetonbaum on his knees, …His punishment will surely be that death he was promised…
(: …All for a pair of two-lidded eyes, breasts, a furry groin and a blushing skin—not anything like our own…Have you come to your senses, child?…Have you realized what you could have lost… :)
(: I have been wrong to seek that which I desired, Brother Master… :) Tetonbaum gazes downward, (: …The towers last forever…Flesh only decays… :)
…My love for thee, Kasumi, will never go away…
Brother Grenald closes his four eyelids, hanging his chin from side to side over his wrinkled tebral folds, protruding from his neck and cloak's underliner, (: …Speaking of decay, child of weakness…What has come of those years of training…Have your talents decayed too… :) He points his blunt nose at Brinustilon—who nods in reply to their master's signal…
Brothers Vr'iathe and Crindelann both remove their hands from their waists and strike at Tetonbaum…
They try to…
Experiencing only the buffing pass of their fists as he rolls between them both, Tetonbaum thumps both in their kidneys with his palms, catches Crindelann's arm and throws him into a chair—smashing it to bits under the weight suddenly overcome it.
He grabs the ankle-necks of Vr'iathe's boots—his menjaga misses Tetonbaum's neck—and wrenches upwards, flipping the th'ane off his feet.
Grenald lifts his tebris a little, issuing a non-vocalized command to Brinustilon.
The th'ane adds his own menjaga with an easy flick of the blade towards Tetonbaum's face—
Poisoned-tip held before his cornea, Tetonbaum lowers it, his grip on the leather-bound handle…He tosses it back to Brinustilon, who reaches for the knife as it juts out of the wall by his patak—
Tetonbaum's menjaga delays him, stopping his fingers short of the first knife standing end-out…Brinustilon looks sharply at Tetonbaum, who has gained both Vr'iathe and Crindelann's knives and is waiting for Brinustilon to re-engage…
…If he dares…
Taking a tired breath in through his nostrils, Brother Grenald nods a congratulatory Well-done to the exiled, (: …You are in possession of your speed, and more importantly, your instincts… :) Throwing a disdainful glare in Brinustilon's direction, (: …Retrieve him his knife, fool…He is one of us again… :) To which Tetonbaum bows and signs over his brow scales.